In Hong Kong, a Family Divided
After Pro-Democracy Protests, a Son Faces Arguments at Home
HONG KONG—Late one night, 23-year-old Near Chiu came back to his family’s apartment, tired and needing a shower after days on the streets with pro-democracy protesters who have occupied parts of the city this past week.
His father’s first words, Near recalled, were: “So, did you get a taste of the tear gas?” Angered by the derisive tone, Near retreated to his tiny bedroom, set off from the living room with a curtain, and followed news about the protests on his computer.
Such confrontations between young and old have been playing out in crowded, shoe-box apartments and on the streets across this teeming city.
The generational divide was evident Friday when crowds of mostly middle-aged men confronted the demonstrators in one busy shopping area, leading to clashes. Many counter-demonstrators appeared to be shopkeepers and street vendors, who complained that their businesses are suffering as a result of the chaos.
Student leaders, accusing the police of failing to do their job, pulled back from proposed talks with the local government.
Many of the teenagers and young adults who form the core of the protests have an aspirational vision for Hong Kong as a Western-style democracy in which the public has a say in politics. Many elders feel lucky to have climbed out of poverty to make a decent living on mainland China’s doorstep and don’t want to put their gains at risk by upending the status quo with Beijing.
Near’s father, Chiu Kin Ming, said he felt the protests—which swelled dramatically after the police tear-gassed demonstrators on Sept. 28—were harmful to the city, hurting his and other businesses. “There will be problems,” he said.
The dispute centers on the election of Hong Kong’s top leader, who has the title chief executive. Under a new plan, Hong Kong residents would be allowed to vote for chief executive for the first time—but only from candidates approved by a nominating committee that Beijing largely controls.
A poll last month by the Chinese University of Hong Kong showed that three-fourths of people age 15 to 24 opposed the plan, compared with less than half of people aged 40-59.
The poll also found that the city’s best-known pro-democracy group, Occupy Central, had more support among the young: 47% of people under 24 said they backed it, compared with about 21% of those ages 40-59.
The generation gap is a byproduct of Hong Kong’s ascendance from developing-world status to a sleek, wealthy financial hub.
Though there is wide income disparity—most Hong Kongers live far from the skyscrapers overlooking Victoria Harbour—the city’s rise has created expectations among the young for possibilities that would have been unimaginable for their parents.
Near’s father—a stocky man in his 50s with receding hair—would like his son to take over his jade shop. He said he is proud that he has earned enough through his business to raise two children and buy a home.
Near, who wears his hair in a long black fringe, would like to become a commercial photographer, like one of his heroes Steven Meisel, an American fashion photographer. He wears a black shirt that reads, “I shoot people” with the image of a camera on it. But he doesn’t want to look for a job right now because he wants to keep protesting.
“I will not do sales,” Near said in a recent interview before preparing to go back to the protests. “That’s not the world that belongs to me.”
The differences are intensified by another prevalent factor of Hong Kong life: entire families live together, even when the children are well into adulthood. That is partly out of custom and partly because real-estate prices in this densely populated city of seven million are among the highest in the world.
Many young protesters said they were sneaking out of their houses to join rallies without telling their parents, hoping they wouldn’t find out.
A day earlier, in their cramped apartment in the Fanling area, near the border with the mainland, Near and his sister and parents watched TV. Images of protests flashed on; the conversation turned to politics.
“Before, the Communist Party wasn’t democratic,” the father said. “But in recent years, from being not very democratic at all, it’s improved,” he said.
“The Communist Party hasn’t changed,” his son responded.
“The economy has improved,” his father said. “The mainland in a lot of ways has gotten really developed. Not like before, when life was harsh and bitter.”
Mr. Chiu grew up in the poverty-stricken northern countryside of Guangdong province, where the family farmed corn. During the turmoil of the Mao Zedong era, Mr. Chiu’s father left for Hong Kong and started Tak Lee Jade & Jewelry, on busy Canton Road.
In 1978, in his 20s, Mr. Chiu followed. At the time, China’s per capita gross domestic product was only about $200. He said he was impressed by Hong Kong’s shopping malls and eager to enjoy the more-modern ways of life in the flourishing British colony.
For years, the family lived in a space where they had just one bed and shared a toilet and kitchen with other families. But the jade shop did well, especially after Beijing loosened rules on mainlanders traveling to Hong Kong to shop. Mr. Chiu was able to buy an apartment—now the family home—as a government-subsidized rate in 1994 for 300,000 Hong Kong dollars ($38,700).
The family started to use air conditioning, a big luxury. Mr. Chiu bought Near his first camera when his son was 16. The son spent hours wandering through the city taking photographs. But his father hammered home a simple message: “You need to be a useful person,” he said. “You need to make money. More, more money.”
The son, whose birth name is Chiu Sung Tat, began calling himself Near after a Japanese cartoon character. He said that as he got older, he became more interested in politics and civic society than in earning money.
He started watching Hong Kong’s legislative sessions online. He felt drawn to a legislator known as Long Hair (because he vowed never to cut his hair unless the Communist Party was overthrown) and Wong Yuk-ming, who is nicknamed Mad Dog for his fiery speeches on behalf of the city’s pro-democracy movement and its working class.
“I started to see the real problem is that people in government don’t have the peoples’ votes. They don’t need the support of the local people,” Near said. About half of the city’s legislature is now directly elected; the other half is voted in by broad constituencies such as the commercial and legal sectors.
Near began turning up at rallies. He also enrolled at City University of Hong Kong to study creative media. His family’s apartment was so crowded that he worked with the lights off so others could sleep. His father still held out hope his son would follow him into the jade trade.
His son replied: “I think this generation wants to chase their dreams rather than just using traditional methods to follow their ancestors.”
Near joined the current protests early, hanging out on Sept. 26 near a government square that had been sealed off with a 10-foot fence. Some students scaled the fence but were then corralled by police.
Near said he and other students grabbed barricades and started setting up roadblocks to prevent more police from rushing in. He slept outside that night and spent long hours at the protests over the following days, taking pictures.
Later at home, he and his father quarreled over the impact of the protests, which have kept major thoroughfares paralyzed.
Mr. Chiu complained business was slow at his jade store, saying it hadn’t made a single sale for weeks. Father and son sparred over whether the protest activity—or China’s recent anticorruption crackdown, which has dented sales of luxury goods—was to blame.
Talk shifted to his son’s career. Since graduating in June, Near said he has focused on protests, though he mused that someday he could become an assistant to a famous photographer, making perhaps HK$13,000 ($1,675) a month.
“So low,” his mother said. “I can’t believe it,” added his father.
After sleeping a few hours, Near stayed up until the early morning, processing photos from the protest. The next day, he returned to the streets.
—Chester Yung contributed to this article.
As I understand he was widely unpopular with the majority of the Hongkongese even amongst those outside of the OC movement. Now because of the behaviour of the OC crowd people are starting to rally around him and the HK goverment just to oppose the OC guys. There is now even a pro-government blue ribbon movement in Hong Kong. Lets hope HK doesn't turn into another Thailand.
