Not just the lyrics but also the melody. Under the government’s sweeping request, even humming it on the subway or street could violate the city’s draconian national security law.
“Glory to Hong Kong” was written in Cantonese chiefly by a local composer known as Thomas dgx yhl. It emerged during the 2019 anti-government protests and became the ubiquitous unofficial anthem of the movement. Its most provocative lyrics? “Liberate our Hong Kong, in common breath; Revolution of our times!”
In Hong Kong today, those are dangerous words, promoting secession — one of China’s “red lines.”
When Beijing imposed its national security law on this restive city in 2020, officials declared that anyone who used the slogan “Liberate Hong Kong, revolution of our time” would be prosecuted. The very first conviction under the new law was of a young activist, Tong Ying-kit, who had the slogan emblazoned on a flag affixed to his motorcycle as he rode toward a phalanx of police officers during a mass demonstration. He was sentenced to nine years in prison for terrorism and inciting secession.
The far-reaching law has succeeded in stamping out protests. The scenes of tens of thousands of people in black T-shirts gathering to defiantly sing in shopping malls and busy thoroughfares are a receding memory. But much to the city leadership’s embarrassment, the song has continued to pop up at unexpected times.
The first high-profile incident came in November 2022 at a rugby match in South Korea, where “Glory to Hong Kong” was played instead of the Chinese national anthem, “March of the Volunteers.” The organizers called the mistake “simple human error,” but Beijing loyalists suspected more nefarious intentions.
Several other mix-ups at sporting events followed. In some instances, “March of the Volunteers” was played but was mislabeled on television broadcasts as “Glory to Hong Kong.” The mistakes stoked officials’ ire, culminating in the government’s motion to have the protest song banned.
But the government’s true target appears to be the internet. Type “Hong Kong anthem” into Google, and “Glory to Hong Kong” comes up prominently. Likewise on YouTube, various renditions of “Glory to Hong Kong” top the English-language search results.
The government’s court request is less about silencing the person on the street than forcing tech giants to remove the offending song from their platforms. There were concerns that musical censorship had already started when the protest song briefly disappeared from some music streaming sites last month, before reappearing, sometimes relisted as a “2023 edition.” The Hong Kong government reportedly asked Google last year to pin the correct anthem to the top of searches but was rebuffed, with the company saying it does not manipulate search results and algorithms. Security minister Chris Tang chastised Google and said having the wrong song so prominent in search results “hurt the feelings” of Hong Kong’s people.
A judge has asked for input on the government’s request. So far, more than two dozen human rights groups and overseas organizations of exiled Hong Kong activists have written to the heads of Apple, Meta, Spotify and Twitter asking them to oppose the injunction. The Hong Kong Journalists Association — effectively the trade union for local journalists — said it has received assurances the government would include an exemption for media reporting if the song is banned. The next hearing is scheduled for July 21.
If Hong Kong bans the song, it would be only the latest example of government efforts to snuff out any embers of dissent and enforce a sense of “patriotism” toward the Chinese “motherland” on an increasingly cowed population. Books dealing with supposedly sensitive topics have been pulled from library shelves. Films are subject to political censorship. Even wearing a black T-shirt — long a symbol of opposition in Hong Kong — or carrying a yellow flower might get you detained by police.
There seems to be no limit to the Hong Kong government’s efforts to suppress free expression. If tech giants remove “Glory to Hong Kong” from their platforms, will the next demand be to erase all references to the massive anti-government protests of 2019? Or to scrub the history of the Tiananmen Square massacre, which is already censored in mainland China?
Of course, tech companies could refuse to comply with an injunction. But then they might find themselves blocked in Hong Kong, like how some Google and Meta products are banned in mainland China.
Hong Kong became an international financial center through its openness, independent judiciary and free flow of information. All that could be in jeopardy if “Glory to Hong Kong” is banned. Broadly, Hong Kong risks becoming like every mainland Chinese city. Which might be exactly what Beijing wants.
