A familiar stand-off is on, this time in Hong Kong, between a large-scale student protest and the government. Demands are made, deadlines set, and violent escalations palpable in the air. Except for a few in the media who hunt for theatre and entertainment, many of us on the sidelines are concerned. Our first worry is the safety of the young people in the street. Tragic bloodshed similar to that in 1989’s Tiananmen Square protests should be avoided at all cost.
Had he lived to this day, I wonder, what Professor Fang Lizhi, a beloved sage of China’s pro-democracy movement, would say. Accused by the government of being a “black hand”, Fang was one of the intellectuals whose initial call for democracy helped trigger the 1989 student movement. Yet at the height of the government-student face-off, he strongly counselled compromise and reconciliation. He later told historian Timothy Brook: “The students loved that line in The Internationale about this being the final struggle, but I told those who came to my home that this was most definitely not the final struggle. … They felt that if they just carried this struggle through, they would be victorious. I did not think so.”
Professor Fang’s was a call to resist the temptation for an immediate victory and to recognise potential success in the long run. This wisdom is consistent with research findings about the outcome of social protest. It is very rare for any protest to have its demand immediately met – an unjust law changed, or a targeted official removed. In most examples, even defeated protests would surely help bring about the social changes the protestors fought for. The imprint of even the Tiananmen Square Movement that ended so tragically is evident from the past two decades of further opening up in China.
Take anti-war protests in the United States as another example. In the ten years between 1964 and 1973, American youths waged wave after wave of protest to stop the Vietnam War, each more disruptive, even violent, than the last. In the short term, they seemed to make not a dent on the policy-making machine, and many students became frustrated and disillusioned. Some resorted to countercultural escapades. Indeed, in a study Doug McAdam and I show that anti-war protest did not have a significant effect on how war-related bills were voted on by lawmakers in Congress.
But the Vietnam War was ended by a landmark piece of legislation after all. How did that happen? According to a study by Paul Burstein and William Frudenburg, the majority vote for the 1973 Senate bill was possible not because the “hawks” changed their mind, but because some of them were replaced by incoming “doves”. This replacement effect was ten years in the making, a result of later campaigns in which candidates were more likely to win a seat on a peace platform. The new political climate, for peace rather than war, was constructed through many factors including the casualties of US soldiers, and, as importantly, the student demonstrations.
The possibility of Beijing’s crackdown on the protests in Hong Kong is real. Reaching a peaceful and timely compromise with the authorities is not only wise but necessary, and much more achievable today than it was 25 years ago in Beijing. The demonstrations thus far will not fade in vain; indeed, the leadership, organisation and good will (if preserved), will be vital for future efforts. Unconditional universal suffrage in Hong Kong will remain a work in progress for a long while given the geopolitical situation. It is more important to preserve Hong Hong’s rule of law and broad range of freedoms, and gradually expand Hong Kong’s political flexibility with Beijing. Stability and prosperity will help reach the goal faster, not slower.
This is not a final struggle. No one should die for it.