Deals within deals
Robin Harris
THE LAST GOVERNOR by Jonathan Dimbleby Little, Brown, £25, pp. 480 Television has recently made Chris Patten a household name with a touch of glamour. But this book can only harm his reputation, which in many ways is a pity because he spent his time in Hong Kong trying to do the right thing, behaving with a dignity many had not expected and per- haps even achieving more than the gushing Jonathan Dimbleby, his apologist in The Last Governor, understands. We do not know how many of the book's judgments are Patten's as well, but it is clear that Dimbleby was given unprecedented access from the very start of Patten's tenure. So the latter has only himself to blame for the damage done.
No one will read The Last Governor in order to appreciate its style, which is bland,. or its tone, which is alternately prig- gish and mean-spirited. Patten is ever the hero, 'a thoughtful and fastidious politi- cian', possessing a
beguiling persona in which high seriousness
Moses will have to realise they are quite unacceptable as they stand. They need definition, clarification and amendment.'
and dry humour were, in that grey age [the vulgar Thatcherite Eighties] refreshingly entwined,
`blessed with an easy authority', and so on. By contrast, Lady Thatcher (who went to Hong Kong to support Patten as governor, intervened twice on his behalf in speeches in the House of Lords and defended his proposals to the Chinese in person in Beijing) is described in thoughtful and fastidious fashion as 'off her trolley'. Lord Howe, who as foreign secretary negotiated the terms of the Sino-British Joint Declara- tion, which was the framework within which Patten operated and which remains the best hope for Hong Kong's continued existence as a free society, is accused of appeasement. Sir Percy Cradock, who after the Tiananmen Square massacre of 1989 managed to negotiate an increase in the number of directly elected seats to Hong Kong's Legislative Council (LegCo), is portrayed as viscerally opposed to demo- cratic development in Hong Kong. Many of Patten's critics are also accused none too subtly of what amounts to venality.
The Dimbleby-Patten conspiracy theory essentially comes down to two allegations: first, that in the late 1980s Britain deliber- ately manipulated its consultation exercise with the people of Hong Kong so as to minimise demands for democracy; second, that a secret understanding had been reached between the British and the Chinese, which was unknown to Patten when he formulated his proposals. That understanding allegedly gave the Chinese what Dimbleby describes as 'an armlock over all major political developments relat- ing to Hong Kong for the next decade'.
The exact contents of the discussions between Britain and China in these years are likely to remain obscure, unless the Dimbleby-Patten allegations provoke an inquiry. But three points are sufficiently clear to put the whole of this overwrought discussion into a proper perspective and indeed to provide the background for an assessment of Patten's governorship.
In the first place, the events in Tianan- men Square dramatically and irrevocably altered both perceptions and realities. Whereas there had been little demand for democratic structures in Hong Kong before that date, it was suddenly clear to the Hong Kong people that democratic reforms were needed in advance of Chinese rule in 1997. The problem for the British politicians and diplomats was that while they understood and sympathised with this demand they were faced with a China which had turned in on itself and whose ruling clique were gripped with paranoia. Geoffrey Howe, Percy Cradock, Douglas Hurd and Chris Patten were all seeking the same ultimate objective. And the main reason why policy changed — and why Patten was appointed — was because circumstances had changed, not because one white knight had put the forces of the Sinologists to rout.
Secondly, the crucial decisions relating to Hong Kong were not made where Dimble- by picturesquely locates them — in cabinet committees, in the Foreign Office or even in Hong Kong's Government House (newly furnished by the Pattens to combine `occidental taste with oriental colours') but in China. As Cradock immediately recognised, as Thatcher reluctantly came to accept and as Patten discovered all too painfully, the Chinese were always able to do whatever they liked with Hong Kong. Of course, other things being equal, the Chinese preferred to have Hong Kong prosperous; and as the terms of the Joint Declaration and last month's relatively smooth handover both demonstrate, they understand that to enjoy Hong Kong's economic benefits they have to guarantee certain legal and political conditions for the inhabitants. But they were never going to smile inscrutably while watching Hong Kong become a potential vehicle for democracy in China.
Thirdly, however, this does not mean that Patten was wrong to introduce his reforms — which included not just the changes to LegCo but the institution of a court of final appeal and more sensitive treatment for Hong Kong citizens wishing to enter Britain. Nor does it mean that Howe and Cradock are right to suggest that the prospects for democracy and stability in Hong Kong under Chinese rule would be better if Patten had not been so provocatively reform-minded. As a result of the last governor's actions, a vigorous and self-confident public opinion has had the opportunity to develop in Hong Kong before the Chinese moved in. Moreover, the high-profile political stance which Patten adopted has effectively 'internation- alised' Hong Kong — something that the Chinese had long struggled to avoid. Above all, the United States has let the Chinese know that it takes a close interest in Hong Kong's future.
The great game which the British and Chinese have been playing for the future of Hong Kong will in the end be won or lost in China itself. At present, much of China's economic success comes from a particularly fiendish combination of slave labour, organised crime and market forces. Some- how to conjure political freedom out of economic advance in China is perhaps the West's single greatest global challenge. If the long-term result of the return of Hong Kong to China is paradoxically a reverse take-over by democracy, Patten must take much of the credit.
And that, of course, is why The Last Governor is such a mistake. Patten has no need of scapegoats: he should look to the future — if not his own on what (according to Dimbleby) he considers the 'tawdry and parochial stage' of Westminster, then at least to the future of Asia, where economic and political freedom are so out of joint, and about which Patten has certainly much to say and write.
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