Hong Kong Democracy Supporters Lead Last Resistance: Shop From Like-Minded Businesses
HONG KONG—With street protests and opposition groups silenced by China’s enforcement of its national-security law, democracy supporters in Hong Kong are pursuing one of the last avenues available for resistance: their pocketbooks.
Some are choosing to spend money at like-minded local businesses, including restaurants, yoga studios and even a sex-toy shop, while boycotting companies that align with Beijing.
The network of vendors gives pro-democracy consumers a way to express their beliefs in a largely symbolic act of defiance, but also exposes those involved to risks. Hong Kong people risk long jail terms if they take to the streets in protest or speak out on social media.
“Where you choose to spend your money is a decision you make, and that will have an impact on society,” said Cynthia Wong, a university employee who frequents a pro-democracy market. “I want my money to go directly to the people I support,” she said, adding that she hopes her patronage will help keep the movement going.
There are several apps that help users locate yellow businesses, or those that are pro-democracy. Mee—Punish Club is one of the most recent. Since launching in May, it has passed 134,000 downloads globally from the App Store and Google Play, according to analytics firm Sensor Tower.
The app, which offers perks and discounts to members, maps nearby participating shops and businesses, and enables users to exchange real-time information, such as newsstands where final editions of Apple Daily were available. One of the app’s developers told a local media outlet that it has 4,000 shops registered on its platform, with 170,000 member customers.
Businesses that support protesters are getting the attention of authorities, who have pressured more overtly political business owners in recent months.
In early May, clothing entrepreneur Herbert Chow opened a small store selling pro-democracy T-shirts, puzzles, posters and other souvenirs that recalled the mass protests of 2019.
Not long after, the store was searched by a large group of national-security police, who showed him a search warrant. The police crowded into the narrow store, recorded the ID numbers of customers and staff, and filmed his merchandise, he said.
After several hours, the police left without making arrests, and Mr. Chow reopened the next day, though he said he thinks he is under investigation by the unit.
“It felt more like intimidation than an investigation,” said Mr. Chow, a longtime fashion entrepreneur in Hong Kong best known for his children’s clothing line, speaking on May 7, the day after the search. He said he had opened the store hoping to use his status as a businessman to protect basic rights like speech. “I just want to protect my little space of freedom.”
Chickeeduck, Mr. Chow’s chain of children’s clothing stores, has been at the forefront of the wider protest movement. At the entrance of its latest shop stood a giant torso of Hong Kong’s Lady Liberty statue, a likeness of a female protester wearing a construction hard hat and a 3M gas mask, symbolic attire from the 2019 protests. On the wall hung a sign reading “Fight For Freedom, Stand With Hong Kong.”
The Hong Kong Police Force declined to comment on Mr. Chow’s case, and it wouldn’t specify any acts deemed national-security violations. “It depends on the relevant circumstances, including facts, behaviors, intentions, evidence and other factors, and it will be dealt with in accordance with relevant laws,” an information officer said in a written response.
Hong Kong is still divided by a yearlong protest movement, which was sparked by a since-withdrawn extradition bill that would have allowed people to be sent to mainland China for trial. Many identify as either yellow, the pro-protester color, or blue, the pro-Beijing color. Businesses that cater to one side risk alienating the other, so most remain outwardly neutral.
Yellow supporters, however, remain a sizable swath of society. When Apple Daily published its final edition last week after it was forced to close under pressure from authorities, customers formed long lines across the city to buy one of the one million copies available. Shopper Ms. Wong was among them, braving the rain to run to a few newsstands to grab a copy.
Teddy Ku, a noodle-shop owner who distributes pro-democracy fliers with takeout, said the coronavirus pandemic and pressure from authorities had made it tough for his business to do more than break even.
Since police ordered him to remove sticky notes with some now banned slogans from his walls last year, his shop displays protest-inspired artwork and photography. He is heartened by customers who leave supportive messages on the shop’s social-media pages in return.
“We’re striving to survive,” he said. “Being a yellow shop doesn’t mean you don’t have to work hard. Instead, we have to work even harder for survival.”
In the Causeway Bay district, one center of 2019 protests, an indoor marketplace brings together mostly local products including handicrafts, farm goods, Hong Kong-style milk tea and artisanal craft beer. The trade-fair-style venue known as “We Connect Mall” accommodates about 60 booths for its more than 80,000 member customers, according to co-founder Ken Leung. It has grown out of a festival event and later a weekend market to operate daily.
With no overt protest messages in sight, support is subtly evident in decorations across the roughly 9,000-square-foot space, such as sketches of the city’s landmark Lion Rock that is known locally as a metaphor for the indomitable spirit of Hong Kong people.
Such places are needed for people to preserve their belief in democracy and freedom, according to Mr. Leung. “We have a long way to go. Democracy doesn’t happen suddenly,” he said.
Chickeeduck’s Mr. Chow said that during the raid on his shop in May, he asked the senior official on the scene whether anything he was selling might constitute a breach of national security. The official responded, “I’m not obliged to tell you,” Mr. Chow recalled.
As he spoke a day after the police swoop, customers lined up outside the brightly lit storefront and around the block. For sale were items including a T-shirt with the words “Freedom Fighters,” surrealist prints with protest- and anti-brainwashing imagery, such as a sick-looking person with a DVDplayer inserted into her forehead. Many customers stopped to thank Mr. Chow as they departed.
“You see what Hong Kong people are made of,” he said. “It almost brings me to tears.”
