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Eerie Quiet Settles on Hong Kong as Face Mask Ban Takes Effect An Eerie Quiet and Dread as Hong Kong Face-Mask Ban Takes Effect
(about 3 hours later)
HONG KONG — With its subway system paralyzed and its shopping malls shuttered during a prime holiday weekend, Hong Kong was eerily quiet on Saturday as the city and its seven million residents took a breather from a night of unrest that erupted after the authorities imposed a ban on face masks during protests. HONG KONG — With its subways paralyzed and its shopping malls shuttered, Hong Kong was anxious and eerily quiet on Saturday.
Although a few hundred protesters gathered in central Hong Kong, most of the city was calm. People remained close to home, and an earlier call for mass gatherings evaporated after it became apparent that moving about the city would be difficult. The city was taking a breather from a night of unrest that erupted after Hong Kong’s chief executive, Carrie Lam, invoked emergency powers to quell antigovernment protests that have grown increasingly violent.
But the unexpected tranquillity masked a palpable sense of dread following the decision on Friday by Hong Kong’s chief executive, Carrie Lam, to invoke colonial-era emergency powers to bar protesters from concealing their identities with masks. The unexpected tranquillity masked a palpable sense of anger and dread that has swept the city since Mrs. Lam announced on Friday that she would draw on a colonial-era law to ban face masks during street rallies.
Many people derided the measure as misguided and said it would be ineffective, but they also viewed it as another step in the erosion of the civil liberties that have differentiated this semiautonomous territory from the rest of China. The government's decision was ostensibly designed to dissuade moderate Hong Kongers from joining the demonstrations roiling this semiautonomous Chinese territory. But the turn to emergency powers that allow Mrs. Lam to pass rules without having to go through the legislature immediately unleashed some of the most violent protests the city has seen in recent months.
Like many of those marching through the streets of the city’s Wan Chai neighborhood on Saturday afternoon, Clare Fok, a 43-year-old cosmetics sales clerk, made a point of concealing her face. The clashes raised the prospect that the unrest might further escalate in the coming days, testing the limits of the territory’s already strained economy and the patience of the ruling Communist Party in China.
“I’ve never worn masks to marches before because they’re stuffy and I look good,” Ms. Fok said through a gray face mask, with a pair of aviator sunglasses hiding her eyes. “We are deliberately wearing masks today because we can’t accept the ban. They’re taking away our freedoms and we won’t just obey because they’re telling us to.” On a deeper level, the move has triggered concerns that the government would take further steps to erode the civil liberties that have long differentiated Hong Kong from the rest of China and helped turn the city into an international trade and finance powerhouse. The government hopes the ban will deter the protesters from resorting to violence, but to many it represents a turning point that could fundamentally change the city’s identity and would only inflame tensions more.
During the monthslong protests, street clashes between antigovernment protesters and the police have steadily grown more combative and dangerous. In announcing the ban on masks on Friday, Mrs. Lam said her government had a duty to stop the escalating violence and restore order. “How can we move on when there are such intense and deep-rooted divisions within our society?” said Wendy Ng, a 44-year-old part-time cooking instructor who was staying home on Saturday because the authorities had shut down the subway network. “The mask ban is making it worse, can’t they see?”
But the move, which took effect one minute after midnight on Saturday, quickly became a new rallying point for the protesters and set off an especially violent wave of demonstrations across the city. “If the government does not make further concessions,” she added, “it’s over for this city, both for us and for those government officials who think of themselves as all-powerful.”
On Friday night, the protesters smashed windows and set fires at subway stations and at stores they considered to be supportive of the government. A 14-year-old boy was hit in the leg by a gunshot and the authorities said on Saturday that his condition was stable. The ban announced Friday targets the face masks that protesters use to conceal their identities, but Mrs. Lam could, if she deemed necessary later, use the emergency powers to impose a curfew or empower the police to search phones more easily without warrants, among other measures.
The police said separately that a plainclothes officer had fired a shot in self-defense on Friday. But as of Saturday afternoon, it was unclear whether the officer had shot the boy, as many protesters assumed. Many in the protest movement see the move against face masks as a de facto ban on their right to protest and believe it would antagonize those already enraged by the leadership’s refusal to grant them the free elections and other demands they have been pressing since the protests began in June.
In a televised statement on Saturday, Mrs. Lam asserted again that invoking emergency powers was necessary because the territory was facing an unprecedented level of violence, and pointed to the protesters who had thrown gasoline bombs at police officers on Friday night as evidence of that threat. “It will only make people more furious with the government,” said Lam Cheuk-ting, a pro-democracy lawmaker in Hong Kong’s legislative body. The ban, he said, would have little impact on the growing number of young protesters willing — and often eager — to confront the armed riot police.
“The rioters’ extreme acts have led to a very dark night, half-paralyzing Hong Kong society today,” Mrs. Lam said in a videotaped recording that showed her standing with a group of officials. “Everyone is very worried, concerned and even horrified.” “I fear that Hong Kong’s situation will only go from bad to worse,” he said.
Mrs. Lam’s government hopes that invoking its emergency powers to enact the ban — which can be enforced by fines and jail time — will dampen turnout at pro-democracy street demonstrations where protesters typically wear masks to hide their identities and guard against tear gas. On Saturday afternoon, several hundred demonstrators gathered in central Hong Kong, but most of the city was calm as people remained close to home and an earlier call for mass gatherings evaporated when it became apparent that moving about the city would be difficult.
Mrs. Lam said that her government had the “greatest determination to put a stop to the violence” and urged the public to condemn the unrest. “We cannot tolerate rioters destroying the Hong Kong we cherish.” Nearly all of the city’s subway lines have been closed since Friday evening after the protesters smashed windows and set fires at subway stations. Transit officials blamed the move on the need to repair damage by vandals but it was seen by some as at least in part aimed at heading off large protests.
Friday’s violence and chaos prompted the authorities to shut down the entire subway system two hours earlier than normal. That the system was still closed as of early Saturday afternoon marked an exceedingly rare development in a global financial hub known for its efficient public transportation. Like many of those who marched through the streets of the city’s Wan Chai neighborhood on Saturday, Clare Fok, 43, a cosmetics sales clerk, made a point of concealing her face.
Many businesses were also closed across the city on Saturday, including several major malls and all but one branch of Bank of China. The Hong Kong Monetary Authority said that some bank branches had closed on account of vandalism and arson, and the police warned the public in a text message that “unauthorized public events expected in coming days may cause severe disruptions.” “I’ve never worn masks to marches before because they’re stuffy and I’m beautiful,” Ms. Fok said cheekily through a swatch of gray fabric, a pair of aviator sunglasses hiding her eyes. “We are deliberately wearing masks today because we can’t accept the ban. They’re taking away our freedoms, and we won’t just obey because they tell us to.”
Some protesters were planning to defy the new ban by gathering with masks in the streets over the weekend, although their exact plans were unclear as of early Saturday afternoon. In a televised speech Saturday, Mrs. Lam condemned the protesters who rampaged through neighborhoods across the city on Friday night, destroying traffic lights, spray-painting ATMs and damaging state-owned Chinese businesses — or those whose owners are widely seen as hostile to the protest movement.
“The ban is not addressing the problem; it’s trying to get rid of the people who are trying to speak out about it,” said Castor Lau, 29, who joined a protest on Friday in the Causeway Bay shopping district. “But Hong Kongers won’t be deterred from protests. We can’t let oppression govern our behavior.” The violence and destruction, she said, only reinforced her decision to invoke the emergency ordinance.
On Friday, Mrs. Lam said she was acting under a rarely used provision in the territory’s colonial-era law that allows the issuance of regulations in response to “a state of serious danger.” She emphasized repeatedly at a news conference that she was not declaring an emergency. “The extreme acts of the rioters brought dark hours to Hong Kong last night and half paralyzed society today,” she said grimly. “Everyone is worried, anxious and even in fear.”
But by any measure, her decision to invoke the so-called Emergency Regulations Ordinance is rare and unusual. The law was last used during the pro-Communist riots that broke out in British-ruled Hong Kong in 1967, leaving more than 50 people dead. The face-mask ban, which went into effect early Saturday, carries a maximum jail sentence of one year and a $3,200 fine. So far, the police appear to have largely taken a hands-off approach to those defying the measure.
So far, no one has died on the streets since the latest protests started in early June. But flashing ambulance lights have become a common sight on the fringes of street clashes between protesters and police officers in riot gear. Samson Yuen, a political scientist at Lingnan University, said he thought the measure would be counterproductive.
During a violent round of protests across the city on Tuesday, a protester was shot by a police officer for the first time since the protests began and taken to a hospital in critical condition. His condition later stabilized after emergency surgery. “The government has turned the simple face mask into a protest symbol,” he said. “By using the emergency laws, they are pouring fuel on the fire.”
Ezra Cheung, Keith Bradsher and Andrew Jacobs contributed reporting. The protests began four months ago in opposition to a now-abandoned bill that would have allowed the extradition of criminal suspects to the mainland, but they have steadily grown more combative and dangerous. On Friday night, a 14-year-old boy was hit in the leg by a gunshot. His condition was later changed from serious to stable.
Earlier in the week, a police officer shot and critically wounded an 18-year-old student who had charged at him. It was the first time the police used live fire to subdue a protester.
The shooting added to the sense of urgency among Hong Kong’s leaders, prompting them to embrace the contentious face-mask ban.
Nearly everyone in this city of seven million was affected by the transit shutdown that has marred what is a three-day holiday weekend. Many shops, banks and restaurants were also closed, and nearly all the city’s ubiquitous 7-Eleven convenience stores pulled down their gates at 5 p.m. When the city’s high-speed train to the airport was briefly suspended, anxious tourists scrambled to find scarce taxis and Ubers.
Some blamed the protesters themselves for the inconveniences.
Joining a crush of hundreds awaiting buses, Sarah Wong, who works in sales, said she was generally sympathetic to the protesters’ demands but was upset by their use of vandalism and violence.
“They can ask for freedom, but they shouldn’t inconvenience other people,” said Ms. Wong, who complained about being forced to cancel an appointment with her hair dresser.
With more protests scheduled for Sunday, the sense of foreboding was inescapable across much of the city.
In Statue Square, a plaza in the historic heart of Hong Kong, Alice Ng, 31, joined other masked protesters who laughed and cheered as a man climbed on a bronze figure of Sir Thomas Jackson, a 19th-century British banker, and covered his head with one of the plastic helmets that have become indispensable for those who audaciously confront the police and their tear-gas canisters.
A few minutes later, the mood changed when riot police officers charged into the plaza, briefly detained two people who wore masks and searched their backpacks. They also took a man who was wearing a bandanna over his face to a police vehicle.
“Daytime protests are peaceful,” Ms. Ng said as the sun began to set. “But at night, it's a different story.”
Reporting was contributed by Ezra Cheung, Keith Bradsher, Katherine Li and Edward Wong.