The 2019 protests, originally sparked by opposition to an extradition bill, evolved into a broader pro-democracy movement that brought millions into the streets of Hong Kong. In response, the Chinese government imposed the National Security Law in 2020, criminalizing dissent and accelerating the dismantling of Hong Kong’s civil liberties. Still, protests continued into 2020, with demonstrators resisting Beijing’s growing control over the city. Under the pretext of enforcing pandemic restrictions, authorities cracked down on activists, arrested opposition figures, and shut down independent media outlets. Among those targeted was Jimmy Lai, founder of Apple Daily, who was charged under the National Security Law and remains on trial for colluding with foreign forces and publishing seditious materials.
Though the protests have largely been extinguished, their impact continues to shape Hong Kong’s political and economic landscape. The city, once seen as a city of free speech and financial independence, has been transformed by Beijing’s campaign to crush opposition. The crackdown has not only silenced pro-democracy activists but also fractured Hong Kong’s connection to the outside world, as new laws criminalize collaboration with foreign organizations. At the same time, an exodus of Hong Kongers—many of them young, politically active, or professionals seeking stability abroad—has changed the composition of the city’s population. While some who remain have chosen quiet survival over confrontation, others continue to resist in exile, lobbying foreign governments and building activist networks overseas.
The Monitor spoke with Dr. Victoria Hui about these shifts in Hong Kong’s political climate. Hui, a scholar of contentious politics and authoritarian repression, places Hong Kong’s struggle in a broader historical and global context. In our conversation, she discussed the cycles of protest and crackdown that have shaped the city’s past, the role of fear in suppressing dissent, the challenges of sustaining activism from exile, and the determination of those who continue to fight for and believe in the possibility of freedom.
Victoria Tin-bor Hui is an Associate Professor in the Department of Political Science at the University of Notre Dame. A first-generation college student, she studied Journalism at the Chinese University of Hong Kong before earning her Ph.D. in Political Science from Columbia University. Her research spans state formation, state-society relations, and global struggles for freedom, with a focus on both historical China and contemporary contentious politics. A scholar-activist, she has written extensively on Hong Kong’s pro-democracy movement, testified before Congress, and co-founded the Hong Kong Democracy Council to advocate for Hongkongers in the U.S. She has also served as a fellow with the Congressional-Executive Commission on China supported by the Council on Foreign Relations.
Kelly Zhuang: You have examined how the National Security Law (2020) and the Safeguarding National Security Ordinance (2024) have severely impacted civil society. What do these laws mean for those living in Hong Kong?
Victoria Hui: The passage of the National Security Law and the Safeguarding National Security Ordinance has profoundly reshaped life in Hong Kong, making it increasingly difficult for people outside the region to understand what is happening inside. In 2019, international mobilization was easier—activists could travel freely and speak on international platforms. The new laws, however, were designed not only to suppress activities within Hong Kong but also to control the flow of information externally. A clear example is the case of the 47, where participation in elections, one of the most legal and nonviolent forms of political engagement outlined in the Basic Law, was criminalized, leading to long prison sentences.
Independent media has been among the hardest hit. While prominent outlets like Apple Daily and Stand News have been shuttered, smaller journalistic organizations still attempt to operate under extreme constraints. For instance, students at the journalism school of the Chinese University of Hong Kong investigated a government-funded welfare program and uncovered fraudulent practices. Their reporting led to backlash, calls for resignations, and further intimidation, demonstrating how even non-political issues can be deemed sensitive under the current climate.
Protests, once a hallmark of Hong Kong’s civil society, have been effectively eliminated through bureaucratic barriers like the "No Objection Permit." Even when approved, heavy restrictions, such as requiring identification tags for every participant, deter people from attending. Since the passage of the 2024 version of the law, repression has only intensified. Authorities have shown zero tolerance for dissent, as evidenced by arrests for displaying banned slogans. Surveillance has become omnipresent, with even minor acts of defiance leading to swift identification and punishment. This pervasive fear has resulted in a growing disconnect between those inside Hong Kong and the outside world. While some people still travel, many choose to remain silent due to family obligations or financial reasons, adopting a survival mindset that discourages open discussions about politics.
However, some still downplay the impact, insisting that as long as they can maintain their jobs and daily routines, life remains manageable. Professionals who continue working in Hong Kong often discourage others from making a fuss, reinforcing a climate of passivity. Yet, the true aim of these laws is clear—to criminalize collusion with foreign forces and sever ties between activists inside and outside Hong Kong. This deliberate isolation ensures that information about Hong Kong’s reality is harder to access, reinforcing a divided society where fear silences opposition. Ultimately, most people choose endurance over resistance, as the cost of dissent has become too high for many to bear.
KZ: You have written that when activism at home inevitably leads to arrest, “exit” becomes the only option. What does this “exit” entail, and how are those who leave able to remain engaged with Hong Kong?
VH: People feel loyalty to their home, so their first instinct is to exercise their voice—to protest, organize, and demand change. However, when resistance seems hopeless, and individuals face arrest or suffocating restrictions, they take the exit option.
Interestingly, those who leave are often the ones most committed to speaking out. For them, moving to Taiwan, the UK, or elsewhere is not just about a better life—life in Hong Kong remains comfortable for many professionals—but about the ability to continue advocating for Hong Kong. As a result, Hong Kong communities have emerged across the world, organizing protests and commemorating key anniversaries. For example, a recent protest in London against Beijing’s plan to convert a historic Mint building into a Chinese embassy drew 4,000 demonstrators, showing that even in exile, people continue to exercise their voice.
Another major reason for leaving is education. Authorities have introduced patriotic education to instill loyalty to the state, which many pro-democracy parents find intolerable. They fear that even private discussions at home may put their children at risk if repeated at school. For them, the opportunity to raise children in an environment that encourages critical thinking outweighs financial stability. Others, however, stay because of family ties, financial constraints, or the uncertainty of starting over abroad. Many professionals—teachers, nurses, doctors, lawyers—know they will face economic hardship in the UK, often working minimum-wage jobs. Yet, for those with children, access to better schools is worth the sacrifice.
Despite being scattered across different countries, Hong Kongers abroad continue to support one another. Some events draw large crowds, while others are smaller, but the dedication remains strong. Many travel great distances and make financial sacrifices to attend protests, seeing it as their only way to make their voices heard. However, Beijing views this activism as a threat and has intensified its crackdown. The 2024 Article 23 legislation seeks to sever ties between overseas activists and those still in Hong Kong, with authorities even placing bounties on key activists to deter support from within the city.
Sustaining activism abroad requires financial support, often through crowdfunding, Patreon accounts, and donations—another area Beijing seeks to suppress. By cutting off financial networks, they aim to weaken overseas resistance. Ultimately, Hong Kong’s struggle has become one where those who remain are forced into silence, while those who leave strive to keep the movement alive. The choice between voice and exit is not just theoretical—it is the lived reality for thousands of Hong Kongers today.
KZ: You’ve written extensively about the cycles of repression and resistance in Hong Kong. Could you elaborate on what these cycles look like? At this current moment, would you say the struggle has entered a new phase, or is it part of a long-term historical pattern?
VH: Essentially, when I teach contentious politics, the framework I often use highlights how movements are typically sparked by repressive policies, which then provoke a reaction from the people. When it comes to repression and protest, it's like a chess game—the regime makes the first move, and the opposition must decide how to respond. If the authorities double down on repression, it often leads to further escalation by the opposition. Over time, this cycle repeats, with waves of mobilization and suppression shaping the political landscape. However, most people simply want to live their daily lives, and the challenge for any movement is maintaining broad participation over time.
Fear plays a crucial role in this cycle. When repression increases, many people, even those with grievances, choose silence over risk. This phenomenon is not unique to Hong Kong; history has shown similar patterns during the Great Leap Forward, the Cultural Revolution, and Tiananmen Square. While resistance once carried little cost, Hong Kongers now face severe consequences for dissent, making public mobilization difficult. However, fear does not erase discontent—it only buries it. When repression intensifies beyond a tolerable threshold, grievances that have long been suppressed can erupt suddenly, as seen in past movements. Individuals who once believed they were alone in their frustrations may realize their shared struggle, transforming fear into collective action. This is why, despite prolonged suppression, sudden explosions of unrest remain possible in Hong Kong.
Hong Kong, Beijing, and the World
KZ: In your work, you mention that Hong Kong’s fall has reshaped global perceptions of China. How has this affected smaller countries’ trading relationships with China through Hong Kong? How has it influenced China’s soft power efforts, particularly in Southeast Asia, Europe, and the Global South?
VH: Let me start with an example. China has been highly effective at gaining support from the Global South. Recently, at a campus workshop, a man—likely from Africa—spoke to me in Mandarin, eager to show off his skills. When I replied, "I speak Cantonese. I'm from Hong Kong," he reacted, "Oh my God, you're from Hong Kong! Why do Hong Kong people always want to cause trouble for Beijing?" He then shared his experiences in Jiangsu and Guangdong, enthusiastically declaring, "China is living in the year 2060! The U.S. is completely backward!"
This reaction didn’t surprise me. Many of my students, friends, and acquaintances from Africa, the Middle East, and Latin America admire China’s economic power and see it as the future, while viewing the United States as imperialistic and exploitative. When I asked, "Don’t you think Chinese investments are also exploitative?" his response was striking: "Yes, but at least they don’t hide it."
I pressed further: "What do you mean by that?" He explained, "The Americans talk about 'freedom promotion,' but they still exploit us. China does the same, but under the 'common humanity of all mankind' narrative. They invest in infrastructure but bring in Chinese workers instead of hiring locals, extract our minerals, and sell us cheap, fully manufactured products. But despite all this, we still see China as the future."
China has long worked to challenge the U.S.-led international order by creating parallel systems. Just as Beijing couldn’t fully take over Hong Kong politically, it established a pro-Beijing faction to exert influence. Similarly, China has infiltrated or taken over key international institutions, such as U.N. agencies and human rights commissions, extending its global reach.
Now, however, the United States is actively undermining its own influence, allowing China to benefit immensely. Unlike the United States, China does not rely on foreign aid as a primary tool of influence. Instead, it profits enormously from investments and loan programs in Global South countries, securing economic leverage while expanding its soft power.
This struggle for influence has become even more lopsided due to deep-seated anti-American sentiment in many regions. Even when the United States spends vast sums on aid and diplomacy, it often struggles to gain favor. A prime example is the COVID-19 vaccine distribution. The United States was criticized for being relatively stingy in providing free vaccines, whereas China actively sold vaccines to many developing countries. Yet, despite this, China remained more favorable in the eyes of many.
It seems almost unfathomable. Even when the United States offered aid for free while China was selling it, many countries still preferred China. Now, with the United States pulling back further, China has a completely open playing field. Beijing can continue expanding its influence, and many in the Global South will likely keep saying, "I don’t care—I still support China."
KZ: How does Hong Kong’s economic and political transformation fit into China’s broader international strategy?
VH: There are multiple issues when analyzing Hong Kong and China’s global role. One misconception is that Hong Kong has faded from international attention. However, the media still closely covers Jimmy Lai’s trials, and European embassies continue to observe them. The global focus has shifted to repression and economic decline.
Beijing’s One Country, Two Systems aimed to preserve economic freedom while removing political rights. After the National Security Law, this could have worked—multinational corporations already operate in politically restricted China. If Hong Kong functioned the same way, businesses wouldn’t care. But Beijing undermined its own strategy.
The real damage came from COVID-19. China’s extreme, unscientific restrictions devastated both its own economy and Hong Kong’s. Once investors leave, they rarely return. A few years ago, a massive budget deficit in Hong Kong was unimaginable—yet here we are. Instead of addressing economic issues, Beijing is doubling down, pressuring business tycoons to reinvest by calling them into meetings and forcing them to pledge financial support.
These tycoons didn’t become rich by accident—they invest where money grows. If Hong Kong is no longer profitable, no amount of pressure will force them to reinvest. The economy will likely sink further. Losing both political and economic freedom would leave private businesses under Beijing’s control, like Alibaba, where success or independence risks being crushed.
This raises the question: Is China’s economic model sustainable? Many argue it is not. However, an economic collapse is unlikely before Beijing attempts to take Taiwan. Controlling Taiwan’s semiconductor industry could buy China time, helping offset the economic fallout of its policies.
KZ: How does Beijing view Taiwan’s current political instability, and what factors could influence its strategy for unification?
VH: For Xi Jinping, the long-standing narrative that democracies are chaotic and dysfunctional now seems to be materializing as reality. His misinformation campaign is no longer just propaganda—it’s aligning with actual global developments. Taiwan, after years of infiltration and influence, has become highly polarized and is now facing a constitutional crisis. Meanwhile, the United States itself is struggling with political instability, undergoing internal purges and investigations, even within the Department of Defense. Public morale is at an all-time low, creating an ideal window—what Beijing might see as a "golden opportunity"—to push for the so-called "restoration" of Taiwan to the motherland.
Many believe that Beijing would not risk war to take Taiwan. But if the situation continues to deteriorate—if the U.S. government fails to show a firm commitment to Taiwan—then Taiwan will not be able to defend itself. Increasingly, Taiwanese military officers and generals from the Kuomintang (KMT) are being indicted for espionage on behalf of Beijing. The question is: How many more are still undiscovered? A growing number of people in Taiwan have begun to feel that resistance is futile if the United States does not intervene. Given these circumstances, I don’t think Beijing would even need to resort to actual war to take control of Taiwan.
Jimmy Lai’s Trial
KZ: For those unfamiliar, could you provide a brief explanation of who Jimmy Lai is and why his trial is significant?
VH: Jimmy Lai embodies the Hong Kong dream: starting with nothing, working hard, building a business, and achieving wealth. In 1989, while running Giordano, he questioned, What is the purpose of life? Some turn to philanthropy—like Bill Gates—but Lai chose to challenge authority despite the consequences.
That year, he supported the democracy movement by printing and selling t-shirts featuring student leaders like Wang Dan, using the proceeds to fund the movement. He asked himself, What truly defines Hong Kong? His answer: freedom, especially freedom of speech and the press. Even before Tiananmen, Beijing sought to control Hong Kong’s media. Since the 1984 Sino-British Joint Declaration, it had steadily exerted influence over the press, co-opting newspaper owners with lavish trips and gestures of goodwill. Many saw this as harmless—until 1989.
Following the Tiananmen massacre, 1.5 million Hong Kongers protested. But as reality set in—The CCP is still here. We can’t fight them—many fell silent. Lai, however, took action, launching Next Magazine and later Apple Daily in 1995. Over the years, attendance at June 4th vigils in Victoria Park declined, but Apple Daily kept the movement alive, mobilizing protests on key dates like July 1st. It provided Hong Kongers with news, entertainment, and a platform for activism. Readers could buy the paper for sports or celebrity gossip, while activists used its center spread as a protest sign.
This ability to mobilize is why Beijing hated Lai. It tolerates criticism of policies but draws a red line at collective action. Even when people weren’t actively protesting, they weren’t content—they felt isolated. Apple Daily shattered that illusion, sending the message: We are here. We all care. We are in this together. That’s why Jimmy Lai became a prime target.
Beijing understands that collective action threatens its rule, so it cracks down aggressively on any force capable of rallying people. Hong Kong was not always a “city of protest.” After 1989, most people, including artists and celebrities, went silent, prioritizing financial success in China. Even former reform advocates gave up, believing resistance was futile. But Lai refused to follow that path. It was Apple Daily that transformed Hong Kong into the “city of protest” the world recognized for decades.
KZ: What do Jimmy Lai’s trial and its aftermath reveal about the state of pro-democracy activism and survival in Hong Kong?
VH: Long before Jimmy Lai’s latest trial, his conviction was already certain, with nearly 10 years in prison. Given his age, this is effectively a life sentence. This is why Hong Kongers and activists around the world have been lobbying foreign governments to raise Jimmy Lai’s case whenever they meet with Chinese officials. This campaign has been somewhat successful—whether or not Lai will ever be freed is another matter, but his case remains a high-priority issue on the international stage, and his name remains on everyone’s mind.
Life in Hong Kong now reflects a quiet survival. Those most desperate to leave have gone, while those who stay do so for family, jobs, or financial security, keeping a low profile. Many avoid politics entirely, exchanging only routine greetings in group chats. Despite repression, pro-democracy Hong Kongers reject the idea that "Hong Kong is dead.”. After all, they are still there. They are still living, still trying to survive, still trying to carve out whatever space they can. Many continue striving to maintain professionalism in their respective fields, doing what they can within the constraints they face.
So, where is the hope? It’s incredibly difficult to say. Especially when we look at the state of the world—the United States, Ukraine, Taiwan, Palestine, Gaza—it feels as though everything is unraveling. It seems like there is no hope anywhere. Many Hong Kongers cling to one belief: You don’t fight because you are hopeful; you become hopeful because you persist. But now, with the United States actively dismantling the very international order it once upheld, that belief is being shaken. Many who have fled repression and sought support from the international community now find themselves questioning whether Western democracies can still offer any meaningful help. If even these last sources of hope are collapsing, then what remains?
Kelly Zhuang is an intern at The Carter Center’s China Focus initiative.
The views expressed in this article represent those of the author(s) and not those of The Carter Center.
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