A legislatura ungida de Macau

Macau's Anointed Legislature

A race that's over before it's even begun

The Wall Street Journal

September 3, 2009

Macau is gearing up for legislative elections this month, and democrats are trying to gain more seats. It's an uphill battle—not because support for democracy is low, but because the system is rigged against them.

Like July's chief executive election, the Sept. 20 legislative elections will produce a pro-Beijing result. Macau's unicameral legislature has 29 seats elected every four years. Of that number, seven legislators are directly appointed by the Beijing-appointed chief executive, and 10 are chosen by four "special sectors" that group together certain political interest groups. Only 12 legislators are chosen by direct vote. So democrats can never win an outright majority, so long as the appointed candidates tow the Beijing line.

They clearly do so. This year, the special sectors nominated 10 candidates for 10 seats—who were then, by default, elected. Furthermore, a new rule implemented last year by the chief executive effectively bars new groups in the special sectors from voting in the elections, giving outsize power to a few special sector leaders to choose legislators.

Even the direct elections don't represent the will of the people. Macau uses a proportional representation system that makes it almost impossible for any political group to win more than two seats in the legislature. In the 2005 election, the pro-democracy New Democratic Macau Association received the most votes of any group but received only two seats—as many as another association that won half the votes.

Democrats are splitting into two political associations, the Democratic Prosperous Macau Association and the New Democratic Macau Association, to capture more votes. This strategy will probably maintain their two seats and make them competitive for a third or fourth seat, too, because Macau's democracy movement is gaining momentum. Recent corruption scandals have stirred popular discontent. Surveys show that the majority of Macanese support democracy—especially young people.

Macau's legislative elections are one of the few outlets Macanese have to exert choice—even if it's very little—over their political destiny. China may control Macau, but voters can still send a strong signal that they value their freedoms.

O líder abençoado

Macau's Anointed Leader

The territory doesn't even pretend to have a real election

The Wall Street Journal Asia (*)
Thursday, June 18

While students protest vote-rigging in Iran, in Macau, there's no such democracy fight. In China's special administrative region, there isn't even the pretense of an election.

This week Fernando Chui Sai-on declared himself the sole candidate for Macau's chief executive election. China's state-run news agency confirmed that the former culture minister received 286 nominations from Macau's 300-member election committee, most of whom are either directly appointed by Beijing or have significant ties to it through family or business. A minimum of 50 votes are needed to run for office. So come July 26, the official "election day," the 300 committee members will "vote" with only one name on the ballot.

We have no reason to doubt Mr. Chiu's good intentions. He told a local newspaper Tuesday that "I'll use different channels to listen to people's views and hopefully achieve consensus with Macau residents to ensure Macau's long-term prosperity and stability."

But Mr. Chiu's incentive isn't to listen to the Macanese people because he isn't accountable to them. Macau's chief executive answers primarily to Beijing, operating with few checks or balances from the legislative and judicial branches. The fourth estate, the press, self censors; antidefamation laws discourage citizens from speaking out. The bloggers who ventured to criticize Mr. Chiu when there was still the prospect of other contenders have now fallen silent.

In the past, citizens have made their views heard by heading onto the streets. In 2007 2,000 Macanese deviated from a May Day parade route and protested against illegal workers and corruption. The government sent in riot police, but officials also promised to revise laws and decrease the influx of illegal workers. There is no "mechanism" that Mr. Chiu can "construct" to substitute for free speech and accountable government.

Macau is a far freer place than Iran, and its citizens have more rights. But like Iran, free and fair elections is not one of them.

(*) Os negritos são, naturalmente, da minha responsabilidade.

A podridão do sistema

Macau's Rotten Borough
The future of Hong Kong?

Wall Street Journal Asia (*)
June 12, 2009

When Hong Kong was returned to China in 1997, Beijing promised the territory that its "ultimate aim" would be to select Hong Kong's chief executive through "universal suffrage." Since then, the Hong Kong government has dragged its feet on pushing China to implement this promise. The territory's residents need only to look to nearby Macau to see what could happen if this democratic stall continues.

Macau's "election" for chief executive kicked off last month when Fernando Chui Sai-on, a former culture minister, announced his candidacy. The mainland's official Xinhua News Agency reported in May that the Chinese central government approved Mr. Chui's decision to resign as culture minister, clearing him to seek the chief executive position.

A few fringe candidates, including a practicioner of Chinese medicine and a casino card dealer also collected forms to register for the election, but they are not expected to get the 50 Election Committee nominations needed to become official. The only other politically viable candidate mentioned in the Macanese press is Ho Chio-meng, a prosecutor who recently handled a big graft scandal. Under Macau's election rules, Mr. Ho has until today to throw his hat in the ring. If he doesn't, it will be a one-horse race.

But regardless of the number of candidates, the process is not democratic. Under the territory's mini-constitution, the chief executive is chosen by the 300-member Electoral Committee composed of 24 Beijing appointees, six religious leaders, 16 legislators and 254 members chosen by "special sectors" that represent business interests.

The vote is rigged in favor of Beijing, like the rotten borough system of Great Britain in the 1800s. The 24 China-appointed members tend to vote in line with the wishes of their mainland bosses. The 16 legislators this year don't include either of Macau's two pro-democracy legislators, who are boycotting the vote, saying they will not help legitimize an undemocratic system. That leaves the 254 special-sector appointees, many of whom have business or family ties to Beijing. Macau's 559,846 people have no direct say.

It's hard to know what Macau's citizens think of all this, given that they have almost no public space in which to voice their opinions. Macau's press self-censors in part because a hefty portion of its advertising money comes from the government. The local blogosphere is lighting up with protest, but the territory's anti-defamation law, Article 23, which passed earlier this year, appears to be intimidating many to keep their protests confined to the relative anonymity of cyberspace.

Macau's economy is closely tied to China. The mainland provides the territory with food, water, energy and the flood of tourists it needs to keep its core industry -- gambling -- afloat. Macau's citizens, like Hong Kongers, were promised freedom of speech, association and religion when the territory was handed back to China in 1999.

But Macau wasn't promised one thing that Hong Kong was: universal suffrage. Macau's chief executive election suggests that China has no intention of experimenting with democracy if it isn't bound by law to do so. That is why it is so crucial that Hong Kong take advantage of its legal rights sooner rather than later.

(*) Os negritos são da minha responsabilidade.

The Macau precedent

The Wall Street Journal Asia (*)
March 16, 2009

Macau is a tiny place, but like Hong Kong, another special administrative region of China, it can be a bellwether for how much freedom Beijing will tolerate within its own borders. With the passage of national security legislation last month, Macau's authorities have set a dangerous precedent for Hong Kong -- and a damning example of China's broader intolerance for basic civil liberties.

The issue at hand is Article 23, a section of Macau's mini-constitution that requires the legislature to enact a law to "to prohibit any act of treason, secession, sedition, subversion against the Central People's Government, or theft of state secrets." Hong Kongers erupted into protest over Article 23 in 2003 and the government backed down. Macau's authorities waited until the furor passed and then late last month put the enabling legislation through the rubber-stamp parliament.

Beijing-appointed Chief Executive Edmund Ho, whose term expires this year, calls Article 23 a "constitutional responsibility." A more honest assessment would call Article 23 what it is -- a provision that protects a dictatorial government from criticism. According to the new law, Macau's citizens can now be prosecuted for possessing "state secrets." Hong Kong resident and journalist Ching Cheong, who worked in China, spent nearly three years in jail after a sham trial centered on such a "crime." It's now possible that journalists in Macau will face a similar threat.

Just as seriously, Macau's residents are also subject to prosecution for "sedition," or the act of inciting treason, secession and subversion. The law vaguely defines these activities as "public and direct incitement." Would posting a news story on the Internet on Tibet or the Falun Gong be considered sedition? How will Article 23 jibe with Macau's Article 27, which protects "freedom of speech, of the press and of publication; freedom of association, of assembly, of procession and of demonstration"?

The answer is that in a one-party state, it's the authorities who make the rules. Yesterday Macau immigration officials barred two Hong Kong legislators from entering Macau, along with three other democracy advocates. Earlier this month Macau also banned a former Hong Kong Bar Association president, Johannes Chan, from entering the territory, citing "internal security." Macau denies the rejections are related to Article 23, even though yesterday's group was traveling to Macau specifically to protest the law and Mr. Chan lobbied against Article 23 in Hong Kong.

Hong Kong lodged weak protests with Macau and China over both incidents, explaining in a press statement that Macau "has its own immigration control." Western democracies have been largely silent on the incidents and the passage of Article 23. The local U.S. consulate didn't even issue a statement. A spokesman told us that the Macau government conducted a "public consultation" on the law before it was passed. Forget that Macau isn't a real democracy and the Beijing-influenced legislature tweaked the bill only slightly in response to local concerns.

Macau doesn't boast as robust a democratic movement as Hong Kong enjoys. That's partly the fault of Macau's former Portuguese masters, who tried to hand the territory back to Beijing as early as 1974. It's also due to a limp press and the overwhelming influence China exerts over the territory's tiny economy. The Macau Article 23 precedent shows how fragile the protection of civil liberties is in today's China. Hong Kongers should beware.

(*) Os negritos são da minha responsabilidade.