Like many Thais, I have always considered Hong Kong my favourite destination. Perhaps it's because I've long been a big fan of the soap operas and martial arts films from Shaw Brothers Film Studio that dominated our television sets and cinemas during the 1970s and '80s. Hong Kong in those days was the epitome of glitz, a unique, vibrant and advanced Asian city where Eastern and Western cultures melted together into an exciting blend.
Since 1997, when the former British colony was returned to the Chinese "motherland", I have continued to visit Hong Kong regularly for work and holidays. My jaw still drops every time I make a night-time crossing on the ferry from Kowloon to Hong Kong, looking at the rows of skyscrapers that ring the bay. I still enjoy the food -- goose noodles and egg tarts, the latter from the same shop that former governor Chris Patten often visited.
These days the city does not look very different but it is not the same. As the mainland government tightens its grip, the proclaimed autonomy that Beijing promised to guarantee Hong Kong has been disappearing. Booksellers and publishers criticising the Communist Party of China had been abducted. Pro-independence activists have been subdued by criminal charges. The last time I read a once-lively English-language newspaper I found it boring, toeing the Beijing line and reading more like the China Daily, a Party mouthpiece.
The Hong Kong Special Administrative Region (SAR) itself is getting more authoritarian. A few months ago, university students were prosecuted for putting up posters with anti-China messages after a clash between local and mainland students. The screws tightened last week when Hong Kong denied entry to Benedict Rogers, a British activist with a track record of criticising Chinese rule of the territory. He was put onto a flight back to Bangkok.
Yes, Hong Kong may still be a great place for business, but it is no longer the free society it was.
The SAR is playing to the territory's business strengths by asserting itself as an intermediary -- a comprador if you like -- for President Xi Jinping's Belt and Road initiative. SAR executives point to the "unique advantage" that "One Country, Two Systems" offers. Hong Kong can offer expertise in trade-related services such as financing, law, accounting, risk assessment and arbitration. The rule of law, fair play and (relatively) clean government prevail. Look at the economic figures: GDP has doubled in the past two decades. At this point, you may wonder, why should we be bothered?
I once stated in this column that the way China treats Hong Kong reflects the way it deals with other countries. The erosion of freedom of speech and democracy in a once-open society like Hong Kong will serve as a playbook for authoritarian countries elsewhere. It sends a message that rights violations and suppression are acceptable as long as the economy is growing.
Yet Hong Kong's wealth gap has widened to the highest in the 46 years since officials first started tracking the figures. The richest household now earns about 44 times what the poorest family scrapes together, despite government efforts to alleviate poverty. Housing is unaffordable for the vast majority in the world's most expensive real estate market. A modest apartment of less than 60 square metres can set you back US$500,000 or over 16 million baht.
Hong Kong leaders seem to be acknowledging the problem. Inequality breeds public discontent, manifested in the non-violent political protests of the Umbrella Movement in 2014.
Last week, new Chief Executive Carrie Lam, perceived as a more socially engaged leader, announced new policies -- among them to build more subsidised housing -- alongside cutting corporate taxes to boost competitiveness and innovation. It remains to be seen whether the administration can meet the challenge of inequality by using only economic measures.
Last month, I went to Hong Kong again. The city was busy as usual. Tourists -- many of them mainlanders -- are ubiquitous. Construction cranes dot the skyline. My favourite goose noodle shop remains packed as does the egg tart shop on Lyndhurst Terrace. On a quiet staircase on Aberdeen Street, an illustration on a wall caught my attention.
The painting -- in vivid red -- was of a soldier carrying a machine gun and carrying a poster bearing the image of a Chinese mask as the solider ran down the stairs. The caption read: "Visual Disobedience". Finally, I learned that truth that Hong Kong had firmly fallen into the embrace of the motherland.