Hong Kong protests: labour rights advocates lament uncertain future 10 years after dockworkers’ strike

Ten years after a strike by workers at a container port in Hong Kong, labour rights advocates have said they are still struggling to chart the way forward for their cause amid an uncertain political climate and a fear of crossing political red lines.

Former union members lamented the demise of workers’ groups in Hong Kong following a clampdown by authorities in the aftermath of the 2019 anti-government protests, but others argued there was still leeway in society for employees to exercise their rights.

The comments followed an exhibition hosted at a Sham Shui Po restaurant, marking the 10th anniversary of the dock strike.

“There was a heavy downpour outside, and yet they were sitting out there protesting,” said university lecturer Leung Chi-yuen, 56, who viewed the exhibition, recounting the most memorable scene from the industrial action that rocked the city in 2013.

The strike, which spread from the container port in Kwai Chung to the heart of the financial hub, lasted 40 days. The bulk of the dockworkers’ demands, including a 20 per cent wage rise to make up for pay cuts in previous years, were later met.

“It mentioned that the strike was led by the Hong Kong Confederation of Trade Unions. Without such organisations, it’s worrying what the future holds for union movements,” said Leung, who teaches subjects centred on community work.

The pro-democratic Confederation of Trade Unions dissolved in 2021, about a year after Hong Kong’s national security law came into effect. Some of its key members have left the city for Britain, including Stanley Ho Wai-hong, who was at the forefront of the 2013 strike as a coordinator.

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Noting the significance of the confederation’s backing, Ho recalled: “Dock workers were in a relatively disadvantaged position. Our role was to organise a union with them, and share our knowledge, resources and network to enable dock workers to fight for their rights.”

The demise of the opposition-leaning union giant was followed by a string of de-registrations of similar groups in Hong Kong. The city in 2022 recorded a net loss of 74 unions after years of growth, bringing the tally of such registered groups to 1,398.

The figure stood in stark contrast with that of just a few years ago, when 100 new trade unions sprung up in 15 months at the height of the 2019 protests as Hongkongers at the time looked for ways to sustain the movement, sparked by a now-shelved extradition bill.

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Among the groups that folded last year was the opposition Neighbourhood and Worker’s Service Centre Staff Union, which was helmed by former legislator Leung Yiu-chung.

The neighbourhood union left behind a number of orphan affiliates. One of which, the Food and Environmental Hygiene Department Staff Rights Union, has since sought shelter with the pro-establishment Federation of Hong Kong and Kowloon Labour Unions.

Li Mei-siu, vice-chairwoman of the union, said while there were operational perks of being under a bigger organisation, it was most important to maintain access to lawmakers who had the privilege to speak directly to their employer – the government.

But with the Legislative Council devoid of opposition politicians, Li said lawmakers without union backgrounds were no longer interested in hearing from them.

“Now there’s no competition among lawmakers … before they knew that if they did not offer help, we’d reach out to someone from the other side,” she said.

While there are 90 seats in Hong Kong’s legislature, up from 70 before the 2021 “patriots-only” election overhaul, 40 legislators are chosen by a 1,500-strong Election Committee. All but one of the members are considered pro-establishment.

Lam Chun-sing, a lawmaker from the Hong Kong and Kowloon Labour Unions, agreed that the voice for labour rights was louder with opposition parties in the chamber, even though they also brought about filibusters.

He said in the current legislature, unless the agenda was actively advanced by the government, “other lawmakers who don’t particularly care about labour issues would stay neutral and not speak out to avoid offending employers and workers”.

His group has so far been the only major union that has applied to hold a rally to mark Labour Day, apart from a separate application made by two former members of the now disbanded Hong Kong Confederation of Trade Unions. The larger Hong Kong Federation of Trade Unions might skip the ritual this year.

Lam expressed understanding for police restrictions, such as requiring participants to wear numbered lanyards, a move the force said was meant to “prevent criminals from mixing” into rallies. But he conceded some workers became hesitant to sign up as the plan gained attention from the force and media.

“With every additional requirement, or as police raise more concerns, the workers would think ‘oh no, what will my employer think of me if they see me taking part, wearing a lanyard?’” Lam noted.

Ho said labour rights advocates remaining in Hong Kong faced a gloomy future as labour issues were still overshadowed by what was seen as Beijing’s tightening grip following the 2019 social unrest, and civil society remained paralysed by a “depressed political climate”.

“With the HKCTU disbanded and many civil society groups coming apart, it would take a very long time to bring them back together,” he added.

But Mak Tak-ching, a former HKCTU activist involved in the 2007 construction steel benders’ strike, argued that the Foodpanda couriers’ protest in the past two years proved that industrial action could still happen as long as the workers were squeezed and cornered.

“What does this have to do with the national security law? All you need to do for a strike is to stay out of work. You don’t need to attend a demonstration or rally,” said Mak, who is now a programme officer at Hong Kong Christian Industrial Committee, a labour concern group.

He expressed belief that as the city emerged from the pandemic and businesses thrived once more, some workers would fight for their fair share of the pie, though they might prefer to avoid the media spotlight.

“The most important thing is to master a way ... There has got to be a process of trial and error, and I’m curious what I can learn from it and what new ways people will choose,” he added.

Also charting their way through the new political reality is the Union of Hong Kong Dockers, which put together the exhibition in Sham Shui Po.

Chairman Ken Lai Ma-kin said while workplace safety at the dock had improved, staff still endured stagnated wages in recent years despite the heavy workload brought on by the global supply chain crisis. They plan to demand a bigger pay rise to make up for it, according to him.

While one of the exhibition’s purposes was to remind fellow dock workers “we are not dead yet”, Lai said the primary goal was to inspire a broader audience – many of whom he found were students – on action that could be taken.

“Our thinking is to tell people how they should think about the next decade, as the previous decade is now history,” Lai said.

“In the last 10 years, have you fought for something and has anything changed? Has there been any change in labour issues? If not, are you going to not care about anything again in the next decade?”