Wednesday, November 21, 2012 A15
A clean slate
Shifting ground
Frank Ching says it’s clear
from Beijing’s changes in
emphasis that our high
degree of autonomy isn’t set
in stone and can always be narrowed
Heather Du Quesnay says that, above all, the ESF needs
clarity on its financial future, to allow it to move on and
bring to an end the debilitating subvention debate that
has been clouded by half-truths and misunderstandings
I
t’s that time of year again. The English Schools Foundation subvention
is on the Education Bureau’s agenda
and there is a media feeding frenzy.
We welcome the debate because our
13,000 students are important to Hong
Kong’s future.
Nearly a quarter of last summer’s university entrants, including some of our IB
diploma 45-point scorers, entered Hong
Kong universities. They, together with
their peers who have gone overseas for
higher education but will in many cases
return, are the future movers and shakers
of Hong Kong, as their predecessors have
been. Ageing Hong Kong needs its youth
talent pool and ESF students are an important part of it.
But the debate, if it is to be useful, must
be based on facts and not on the halftruths and misunderstandings that have
taken on a life of their own in a decade of
argument. We have to debunk some of
these myths.
Let’s start with the notion that ESF
exists only to educate the children of rich
expatriates. The ESF Ordinance says noth-
The subvention has
become the lightning
rod for the confused
feelings in this city
about its colonial past
ing about expatriates; it talks only about
children who can benefit from an Englishmedium education. Today, we have
students of more than 50 different nationalities: 74 per cent are Asian or Eurasian by
ethnicity (44 per cent are Chinese) and
nearly 70 per cent are from permanent
resident families. These are all “local” children in the sense that they are growing up
here and most of them stay throughout
their schooling. Some of their parents have
to scrimp and save to keep them in our
schools. In modern Hong Kong, the term
“expatriate” is an anachronism that defies
definition and certainly does not tell us
anything meaningful about the ESF
student body.
The second myth is that the ESF Ordinance in some way entitles us to government funding. In fact, the ordinance is
silent on finance. The original funding
practice was that the government paid an
amount equivalent to that spent on local
children’s education and parents made up
the rest of the costs of an international
curriculum. But that so-called “parity
principle” was unilaterally abandoned by
the government 12 years ago and repeated
arguments by the champions of ESF have
failed to move three governments since
then. So we have a subvention calculated
by reference to an outdated formula,
frozen in cash terms and constantly
subjected to question and challenge. The
resulting uncertainty has led inexorably to
the kind of media debate we are now experiencing, healthy if it happened once and
led to a resolution, but debilitating for parents, students and staff alike when it is
repeatedly linked to ill-informed criticism
and offensive comments that rich Western
expats are getting something they have no
right to. The ESF needs, above all, an end to
this uncertainty and strife so that the board
can plan confidently for a sustainable
financial future and the professionals can
concentrate their energy on educating the
children in our schools rather than
dodging brickbats.
Then there is the myth of mismanagement. In 2004, the ESF became a pariah
organisation after the Director of Audit’s
review. The audit report was debated
brutally in the Legislative Council’s Public
Accounts Committee. But once it was published, the ESF did not challenge it. We put
our house in order, painfully and publicly,
and it took four years before our completed action plan was signed off by the committee. Only then did the Education Bureau allow us to discuss the subvention.
Myth number four is that we missed an
easy win by failing to seek Direct Subsidy
Scheme status. The proponents of this line
have simply not done their homework.
Apart from the fact the government has
categorically ruled out DSS status for the
ESF, the current DSS funding formula just
would not fit ESF schools without considerable revision and we would lose much
freedom and control over our own affairs.
What of the myth of the ESF’s vast cash
reserves? The accounts show reserves of
more than HK$900 million last year, but
this is not money waiting to be spent. The
rules of accounting require an organisation to show the profit and loss accumulated since its inception. This is all money
which has already been spent on building
improvements, equipment and other
capital items. On the balance sheet, the
reserves are matched by the assets which
they were used to buy.
More than anything, the ESF needs
clarity about its financial future. With the
present government, we have at least
some signs of a will to bring this protracted
C
public wrangle to an end. After much pressure from the ESF Board, the government
seems willing to protect the subvention of
all the children currently in the system and
we are urging them to go a step further to
protect their siblings.
We are also negotiating for a new subvention which would include funding for
the teaching of Chinese to non-Chinese
speakers and the education of children
with special educational needs. The latter
is more than overdue because over many
years and by default, the ESF has become
the government’s proxy in the delivery of
its statutory and humanitarian responsibilities for the education of English-speaking children with special educational
needs. Yet we are woefully underfunded
even for our special school, Jockey Club
Sarah Roe, the only one of its kind in Hong
Kong, which receives far less than if it were
a local school.
Given the age and condition of some of
our buildings, like Island School, we will
also need government support for capital
expenditure if we are to keep the facilities
in schools up to scratch without imposing
an impossible burden on parents’ fees.
The ESF subvention has become the
lightning rod for the confused and contradictory feelings in this city about its colonial past. That such feelings exist is understandable and they may take many more
years to work through. But the ESF must be
freed from that vortex of emotion and
allowed to take its place in Hong Kong as a
modern organisation, educating young
Hongkongers for whom the British colonial past will take its place in the history
books alongside the Treaty of Nanking and
the demise of the Qing dynasty. The subvention debate needs to be concluded
once and for all.
Heather Du Quesnay is chief executive
officer of the ESF
hina unveiled its basic policies regarding Hong
Kong in 1984 when the Sino-British Joint
Declaration was initialled. Those policies, the
Chinese government stressed, would remain
unchanged for 50 years.
On July 1, 1997, when the Chinese flag was raised
over the former British colony, then president Jiang
Zemin
declared: “I would like to reaffirm that
‘one country, two systems’, ‘Hong Kong people
administering Hong Kong’ and ‘a high degree of
autonomy’ will remain unchanged for 50 years.”
These three phrases have come to represent Beijing’s
policies towards Hong Kong. Today, they are still in
place, but have been redefined over the past 15 years.
On the 10th anniversary of the Hong Kong Special
Administrative Region, President Hu Jintao
told us that “one country is the prerequisite of two
systems”, and that “without one country, there will be
no two systems”. Evidently, Beijing felt the need to
assert to those clamouring for greater autonomy that
“one country” trumps “two systems”.
Just this July – months after a highly publicised
survey revealed more people identified themselves as
Hongkongers than Chinese, Hu, in Hong Kong to
mark the 15th anniversary, said: “Our compatriots in
Hong Kong enjoy a growing sense of identity and
closeness with the country and the nation.” The
assertion, in the face of contrary data, was
presumably meant as a gentle admonition.
This month, Hu delivered a report to the 18th
party congress which included a section on Hong
Kong. This time, his words went beyond just putting
“one country” ahead of “two systems”. While Beijing
previously said its policies were to ensure stability
and prosperity, now we were told “the underlying
goal of the principles and policies adopted by the
central government concerning Hong Kong and
Macau is to uphold China’s sovereignty, security and
development interests” as well as to maintain longterm prosperity and stability of the two regions. And,
he added: “We must both uphold the power of the
central government and ensure a high degree of
autonomy in the special administrative regions.”
So China has shifted from stressing a “high degree
of autonomy” to emphasising the sovereignty,
security and power of the central government.
Hu ended by saying Hong Kong people can
“definitely play an active role in national affairs and
share with other people of all ethnic groups in China
the dignity and glory of being Chinese”. Surely, this
was a not-so-subtle hint of Beijing’s displeasure over
growing pro-independence sentiment in Hong Kong.
Beijing’s shifts in emphasis are a sober reminder
that the degree of autonomy our city enjoys can
always be narrowed. In the coming years, as Hong
Kong discusses universal suffrage, Beijing will no
doubt respond to proposals thrown up in the debate.
Hong Kong should be prepared for fireworks,
especially over the role of the nominating committee.
But it is certain that whatever Beijing does, it will
continue to insist its policies towards Hong Kong
have not changed and that the “one country, two
systems” is still being successfully implemented.
Frank Ching is a Hong Kong-based writer and
commentator. frank.ching@scmp.com.
Follow him on Twitter: @FrankChing1
Separate territorial disputes from
maritime safety, for the good of all
Political reform must combine
modern ideals and tradition
Andrew Leung says a code of conduct to avoid hostilities will help region refocus on growth
Lanxin Xiang says China’s leaders have to overcome crisis of legitimacy
T
he way a party presents
itself can either enhance
or undermine a regime’s
legitimacy, and China is no
exception. The regime currently
faces a legitimacy crisis, partly
because the Communist Party
presents itself in such an ugly
way that it has eroded the
traditional Confucian moral
basis of the state.
There is no doubt the oneparty system is responsible for
China’s economic success, and
that it will remain the dominant
force for years to come.
But the topic of
republicanism remains relevant
today, even for maintaining the
legitimacy of one-party rule. The
party faces growing public
dissatisfaction over rampant
corruption among its political
elites, and the seven new leaders
presented at the just concluded
18th party congress do not have
a convincing mandate to rule.
Constitutionally, China is a
“people’s republic”, but it
resembles neither a republic nor
a traditional dynasty; it is an
unnatural hybrid of a Chinese
political body dominated by an
alien political organ, the
politburo.
The politburo system was
abandoned in most parts of the
communist world after the end
of the cold war, so why does
China insist on keeping this ugly
relic of the Russian revolution?
The party also performs
poorly in presenting itself on the
issue of political reform. While
the new leaders appear to agree
that the party’s badly damaged
image is in urgent need of a
makeover, no concrete ideas
have yet been put forth.
he curtains of domestic
politics have barely come
down and the United
States and China have already
shifted their attention back to
the Asean geopolitical
chessboard in their battle for
influence over the Asia-Pacific.
US President Barack
Obama’s first trip overseas after
his re-election victory and Wen
Jiabao’s
probable last
visit to the region as premier
underscore just how much is at
stake for both countries.
The Association of Southeast
Asian Nations has always been
important to Beijing: it is at the
heart of China’s regional supply
and production chain,
straddling vital sea lanes for
merchandise trade on which
China relies for some 50 per cent
of its gross domestic product,
double the US’ proportion.
The South China Sea lanes
are also critical conduits for
transporting fuel. The region is a
treasure trove of energy and
valuable resources waiting to be
exploited. Strategically, it is also
where the “first island chain”,
China’s Pacific coastal maritime
defence perimeter, is situated.
Until recently, long-standing
territorial disputes in these
waters were largely left on the
back burner as China carefully
built harmonious relations
around its periphery.
But the calm was disrupted
after the US began its Asia pivot.
While it repeatedly assured
China it was merely rebalancing
forces in the region rather than
embarking on an anti-China
containment policy, China’s
neighbours with rival maritime
claims have become
emboldened. Rising nationalism
in emerging South Asian
economies also means they are
less receptive to the overarching
economic weight of the 800pound panda. So the US pivot
has become a useful geopolitical
and military counterweight for
China’s neighbours, even if none
of them want to be corralled into
an anti-China bloc.
It was hence no surprise that
Wen, at the Asean and East
A binding code
stands a good
chance of
defusing
growing tensions
Asian summits in Phnom Penh,
tried hard to steer the focus away
from the South China Sea
disputes to the mutual
economic benefits in the soonto-be-launched Regional
Comprehensive Economic
Partnership. The initiative is
expected to incorporate 16
nations: the 10 Asean states,
China, Japan, South Korea,
India, Australia and New
Zealand.
Not to be outdone by China,
the US is pushing for a US-Asean
free trade agreement, through
accelerated efforts to get the
Trans-Pacific Partnership off the
ground. The TPP presently
includes the US, Vietnam,
Malaysia, Singapore, Brunei,
Mexico, Canada, Australia and
New Zealand, with others still in
negotiations. The elephant in
the TPP room is, of course,
China. The US is also likely to
want a seat in the Regional
Comprehensive Economic
Partnership.
But trade is not everything in
the South China Sea. Asean
members have grown
increasingly anxious that any
belligerent misfiring over the
territorial disputes in the area
may escalate to a full-scale war
with unpredictable and
uncontrollable consequences.
It was with this concern in
mind that in Phnom Penh,
Southeast Asian leaders asked
China to begin formal talks “as
soon as possible” to craft a
legally binding accord aimed at
preventing an outbreak of
violence over the disputed
maritime territories. A war in the
South China Sea would be
anathema to the US as much as
it would be to China, its
neighbours and the rest of the
world.
Strategically, of course, it
would be advantageous for
China to negotiate bilaterally in
its territorial disputes. But in
light of the increasing
nationalism among its rival
claimants, it would be
somewhat naïve to hope for an
early settlement.
Now, with the added
assurance of the US pivot, these
nations are even less likely to
succumb to pressure from China
for one-on-one negotiation,
even if, strictly speaking,
territorial disputes are
essentially bilateral issues.
For China to attempt to
throw its weight around would
be counter-intuitive.
There is no reason the
territorial disputes cannot be
separated from safe maritime
conduct. The disputes can be
put aside to be dealt with later
while genuine efforts are made
to reach an internationally
binding code of conduct. This
can be aimed exclusively at
preventing military mishaps and
avoiding escalation of conflict
without compromising each
side’s claim to territory.
Such a code of conduct
would help defuse the ticking
time bomb in the region. For the
US, it would help to anchor its
rebalancing as part of an
American global “grand
strategy” as expounded by
American foreign-policy doyen
Zbigniew Brzezinski. For China,
it would help redirect focus in
Asean and regional relations
back to economic co-operation
and mutual benefits. It would
also set at ease the minds of the
Asean nations and others in the
region, so they could turn their
attention back to growth.
With mounting stand-offs in
the South China Sea, a binding
code of red lines stands a good
chance of defusing growing
tensions, regardless of territorial
disputes. My bet is that what is of
benefit to all is bound to happen,
sooner rather than later.
Andrew K. P. Leung is an
international and independent
China specialist based in Hong Kong
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T
So how can things be
improved? In seeking to
redesign China’s political
system, analysts tend to look
towards Western democracy
while neglecting to consider
modern China’s republicanism.
It is easy to see why it is often
overlooked: the term “People’s
Republic of China” suggests that
the nature of the Chinese
political system has long been
defined.
But that is not true; on the
contrary, exactly what type of
republic China needs remains
far from settled.
In its narrowest sense, a
republic refers to a political
order in which the head of state
is not a monarch. In its broadest
sense, it is a political order in
which the supreme power lies in
a body of citizens entitled to vote
for representatives who will be
accountable to them. Thus,
republicanism stresses politics
by representation.
Confucianism, on the other
hand, stresses that a strong
moral centre – that is,
governance based on ethics
acceptable to the majority – is
the ultimate source of
legitimacy, not imperial power.
So the debate about republican
ideals in modern China centres
on who should represent the
moral centre and what kind of
qualifications they should
possess.
In traditional China, the
scholar-gentry class, through a
rigorous recruitment process in
the form of imperial exams,
automatically had a mandate to
perform administrative duties
on behalf of the emperor. At the
same time, they also served as a
barometer of public opinion.
The 1911 revolution ended this
dynastic system. Modern
republicanism took over, but the
state failed to maintain internal
political stability. Compared
with the dynastic system, the
modern Chinese version of
republicanism seems inferior.
Crucially, the republican
period has failed to produce a
new and coherent argument for
the legitimacy of the regime.
Doing away with the role of the
emperor – who was seen as the
only legitimate interlocutor
between heaven and earth –
meant that political continuity
could no longer be justified by
hereditary order. The postrevolutionary regimes had
therefore to maintain legitimacy
via coercive power alone.
The problem lies in the
tension between modern
Chinese republicanism and the
traditional political culture that
persists. To begin political
reform while avoiding social
upheaval, a firm foundation has
to be constructed based on a
system in which republican
ideals and Confucian moral
traditions can co-exist in
harmony.
Thus, republicanism needs
to be part of the political
discourse. Only then can a
constitutional order be created
in which the worst and most
destructive features of the
current system can be smoothly
and peacefully phased out.
Lanxin Xiang is professor of
international history and politics
at the Graduate Institute of
International and Development
Studies in Geneva