On Coastal Defense

As residents of a plucky little colony/administrative region, Hong Kongers do not have much to show for "military prowess," needing to latch onto the martial patriotism of the larger, more powerful nation-states of which their city has always been a part. Recent sentiments of independence aside, the SAR has always been either geo-politically British or Chinese. For instance, the South China Sea dispute has been covered objectively by the Hong Kong press, but if push came to shove, Hong Kongers would probably side with China's claim, just as Taiwanese government did. This highlights the peculiar position the PRC and its wayward "provinces" are in: Each seem proud to be Chinese, just not according to the same historical and political point-of-view. In Hong Kong's case, its colonial legacy further complicates its modern political and ethnic identity, as there will always be something distinctly "British" about the place.

The Museum of Coastal Defense is a wonderful example of this. Tucked away in the eastern corner of the Island, this lonely museum rests atop an old British fort that once defended the entrance to Victoria Harbor. It's a wonderfully-designed museum in a hilly campus which includes a number of vehicles, recovered artillery pieces and the excavated magazines of the original batteries. The main building itself is built upon the original fort, letting you walk around the original fortifications.

Perhaps most pertinent to Hong Kong's complicated national history are the exhibits of the sovereign empires and nations that have been responsible for its protection. The Ming and Qing displays were closed, but I expected these would have discussed Chinese naval power in southern Guangdong prior to Hong Kong's founding. Much of the museum is obviously dedicated to the colonial period, highlighting the difficult conditions endured by the British troops stationed there. Discomfort, disease, and mortality were startlingly high for a garrison that didn't do all that much until they had the stuffing kicked out of them by the Japanese in 1941, shortly after Pearl Harbor. The fort's guns were already obsolete by the time they were needed, though this is an irony common to warfare (Maginot Line, anyone?).

The final little exhibit is the obligatory shout-out to the People's Liberation Army garrison stationed in the city, focusing on the peaceful transition of power in 1997. Surprising, this display is tucked away in a little corner of the museum. While this is probably because the PLA and PLA Navy haven't had the chance to prove their gallantry, unlike the British in their malarial conditions, it's still a testament to just how much Hong Kong owes the British for its historical legacy and territorial contours, an inconvenient truth for those trying to make the former colony more Chinese. Had the museum been more centrally-located and more frequently-visited, I would expect the Chinese angle to more played up. However the museum's Ming and Qing exhibits are already a bit of a stretch in an attempt to reclaim HK for the China, given that these dynasties were sovereign over the area at time when Hong Kong did not actually exist. Instead Kowloon peninsula was governed by a few rural clans.  Despite any embarrassment it may cause (perhaps valid given the "unequal treaties"), the museum is a repository of the SAR's colonial history, leading to the question of how Hong Kongers can embrace their Chinese future without forgetting their non-Chinese past.