Deng Ziwen had imagined the scenario countless times in her head before the day the police charged into the newspaper office. They thought about what questions she should ask them and how she should preserve her interview data. But when it actually happened, she watched her colleagues via a livestream, as team after team of police entered the company, forming an orange blockade between the rows of desks. She watched the head of the newspaper company, Jimmy Lai, being taken to the back of the office, while Editor-in-Chief Luo Weiguang angrily argued with the police. “It was so emotional, so nerve-wracking that my whole body was shaking, especially when I saw the police looking through the documents on the desks of colleagues. How much information was there? Do the police have a search warrant?” On that day, Deng Ziwen was on vacation. She had planned a restful day at home, but when she saw the live broadcast after waking up, she thought “this is a huge mess,” and immediately changed clothes, went downstairs, flagged a taxi, and flew back to the office. On the morning of Aug. 10, Jimmy Lai, the founder of Apple Daily, was arrested on suspicion of violating the Law of the People's Republic of China on Safeguarding National Security in the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region (SAR). Soon after, about 200 Hong Kong police officers entered the Apple Daily building and conducted an 8-hour search. By the time Deng Ziwen arrived at the newspaper office in Tseung Kwan O Industrial Estate, the building was already blocked off. She found some colleagues who were supposed to be on vacation but already returned. They had to show the police officers their press cards, staff cards, and register their IDs, phone numbers, and addresses before they could enter the editorial department on the second floor. “The National Security Law crashed into me, it became a reality," Deng Ziwen said, recalling that day. For many years, Hong Kong has enjoyed relatively high press freedom. Many international media organizations have established branches in Hong Kong and regard it as a springboard for reporting Chinese news. Reporters in Hong Kong did not need to worry about government officials stalking them or being harassed. The implementation of the National Security Law in Hong Kong, however, has generated considerable worry among press circles. Some provisions of the National Security Law directly involve the media. Article 9 states that the Hong Kong government needs to strengthen supervision and management of the media. Many journalists worry that monitoring government reports will be regarded as endangering national security, making them “incriminated by their words.” Or that their work will be monitored by the police and they will be forced to hand over their interview materials, etc. Not knowing what to write and writing it poorly Deng Ziwen has been in the industry for seven years, writing on feature topics. In terms of qualifications, she is a senior reporter and has weathered her share of storms. But when she talked with colleagues recently, the built-up exhaustion and depression since the anti-amendment movement last year was hard to hide. “It's getting darker day by day, and there doesn’t seem to be a way out. The media environment in the future is only going to get grimmer.” During those few days, Deng Ziwen’s mind was a swirl of chaos and she either couldn't write well or didn’t know what to write. Many past interviewees sent texts asking if she could take their interviews down from the website. Some previously scheduled interviews were cancelled because the interviewees were worried about their safety. “The feeling this year is that interviews are getting harder and harder to do. During the anti-amendment movement last year, everyone was still willing to share ideas with reporters. At most, they requested not to have their pictures taken or to use a pseudonym, but with the implementation of the National Security Law, even those kinds of interviews are becoming more difficult to do.” Although there are already specific provisions laid out in the National Security Law, as for what will be considered a violation of “subversion of state power,” “splitting of the country,” “terrorist activities,” or “intervention by external forces,” everyone has only vague impressions. Deng Ziwen said that it was not possible not to be afraid of being arrested and imprisoned. But what worries her even more is the self-censorship of her work she felt immediately following the passage of the National Security Law. “As a feature reporter, we often need to think about what issues need to be addressed and can be done. We don’t censor ourselves at Apple Daily, and we can cover anything we want, but after the implementation of the National Security Law, an invisible red line appeared,” she said. “When you don't know where the red line is and what you write will touch it, it is easier to draw boundaries for yourself. This may be the reason why the National Security Law is so vague.” “After the National Security Law passed, there was a voice in my mind asking, can this topic be covered? Will I be safe after writing it? Will I be arrested?” She thinks this is the greatest fear in the media industry. “Once the news starts to self-censor, the values held by the entire industry will collapse in tandem.” She said that she can only do her best to resist living in this kind of fear. Leave, go to jail, or become a mouthpiece: you must choose one On the day the Apple Daily building was raided, Jack, a freelance journalist working on foreign media, finally paid to download a VPN, moved all his work conversations to Signal [an encrypted messaging app], and set up a new encrypted email mailbox. He also sorted through past interview recordings, verbatim transcripts, and notes. “The worst-case scenario is that one day in Hong Kong you can no longer keep these materials, so I sent them all abroad.” Jack entered the business about five years ago and has been a freelance journalist mainly helping with foreign media feeds and photography for nearly two years. How he should protect interviewee information in an unknown political environment was the first thing Jack thought of. In the past, he always heard about how journalist friends working in totalitarian countries must fight against the regimes to pass interview information back to their companies. He never expected that one day he would need to make similar psychological preparations. Jack can only make light of himself and his situation: "Fortunately, my writing is very ugly. I haven't gone through it in a few days, and even I can't understand it. No software at all, just natural encryption.” However, in addition to ensuring the safety of his interviewees, Jack is also concerned for his own safety. The Hong Kong SAR National Security Law contains a provision on “foreign influence,” which experts speculate whether foreign media with offices in Hong Kong and Hong Kong reporters hired by foreign media will become targets. There are a large number of foreign media organizations that have their Asia Pacific headquarters in Hong Kong. Jack recently heard that the visas of some reporters in Hong Kong have not been approved. So many of these factors have made Jack feel that he should be remain cautious. “I often think about it, and I feel like there is no other place to be really careful except to protect information security,” Jack expressed helplessly. Referring to the experience of mainland China, Jack believes that the police will not directly arrest reporters, but the resistance faced by foreign media reporters in interviews may increase greatly in the future. “They may harass you and the people around you, find ways to interfere with your communication with the interviewees, intercept you at the location you visit, monitor your phone calls, or hack into your social media accounts, etc.” The situation facing freelance journalists is even more complicated. Without the backing of a company, if something goes wrong, you may have to carry the burden alone. There will be no protection provided by an organization. Because of this, Jack has been trying to find a full-time job in the past few months. However, due to the impact of the epidemic, many companies have frozen their hiring, making finding a new job difficult. Many foreign media organizations offer staff security training and legal consultation. As a freelance journalist, Jack is not considered a full-time employee and cannot access these resources. “Maybe it’s the reality of being a freelance journalist in Hong Kong in this era. Often, I’ll have a sudden surge of hope and think, ‘what am I afraid of?’ But then, other times, I am inexplicably afraid.” “The regulations are determined by them. Even if you think you made a fair, objective, and neutral report, and they think you have a problem, there may be a problem.” But Jack also said that it is impossible to stop writing reports because of this. “So I think the final choice left to reporters may be to leave the media industry, become a mouthpiece of the regime, or go to jail. Choose one of the three.” Jack said that if that day comes, and these three options are in front of him, he hasn't decided yet which one he would choose. Envision the scene of your own arrest in your head Li Wanting, who has worked in Hong Kong cable television for more than two years, knows very well that she absolutely cannot become a mouthpiece of the regime. Having been in the industry for more than five years, she has worked in newspapers, radio, and television. No matter where she has been, she has encountered veteran journalists who told her that journalism is not merely a profession, and that before becoming a journalist, she must also be a good person. “So, there is no reason to think that if I see injustice happening before my eyes, that I won't make a sound.” After the implementation of the National Security Law, there have been personnel changes at the highest levels of cable television: recently, the television station fired three senior employees in the engineering department. The incident caused an uproar among many employees who then signed a petition calling for management to explain the reasons for the personnel changes and disclose whether there will be further layoffs. Li Wanting was among the staff members who signed. "Is there going to be a review?” was her first thought when she heard the news. Li Wanting has many experienced colleagues, many of whom are familiar with China's political operations and media ecology. They estimate that after the National Security Law, Hong Kong journalists are likely not at risk of being arrested directly, but they may draw the “close scrutiny" of the police or have requests for assistance in investigations. Li Wanting also has gone to China for interviews. In a small village in the southwest interior, she and her colleagues were followed by the Public Security Bureau the moment they entered the village. “They said, ‘Teacher, the weather is too hot, you can come back again later, and we’ll go to a place outside the village office.’ They cut watermelon for us to eat, and immediately drove us to a high-end hotel in the city.” She remembered that the hotel was so high-end that she and her colleagues suspected this was a scam. They felt around the cabinets, the bottom of the table, and the lampshade like the plot of some movie, but found no listening devices. Because of their experiences in China, Li Wanting and her colleagues know that after the red line is drawn, all the media can do is to find the space to continue reporting. “The same goes for reporters in the mainland,” she said. “Is it ambitious? Possibly. Will this red line move? Absolutely. But do you have any reason not to keep reporting? Of course not.” Even though her editor and senior colleagues advised her that it is unlikely to happen, every once in a while, she should envision her arrest and ways to respond. “Go over the scenario a few times just in case it really happens, then at least you won't be left unprepared.” That includes remembering a lawyer's phone number, identifying a trusted friend, and if arrested, how to deal with your interview materials on your own. It also means mentally preparing your family members. Li Wanting recently had this conversation with her mother. “My mom was crying; she told me not to fight with others and that I need to protect myself.” But Li Wanting is not certain she is in the clear. In today’s Hong Kong, if she doesn't say or do anything, will it ensure safety for her and her family? Recently, she placed a bug out bag which contained her and mother's passports, a spare phone, and cash in a conspicuous place at home. “In case something really happens, I can grab it and go.” She doesn’t know where she would go, but Li Wanting hopes that she never has the need to use it. It’s as though someone is pressing the delete key from a distance Aren recently felt that everything in Hong Kong was fading away, and he was a bystander, witnessing some grand memory-erasing project. “It seems like someone was pressing a delete button from a distance to delete this person and this person no longer exists; delete this thing and this thing no longer exists.” Aren is a reporter for local news in Hong Kong. After six years in the industry, his life has been intertwined with political events, elections, and demonstrations, one after another. He said that since the Umbrella Movement, the most important year for him, both in his professional and personal lives, was last year with the anti-amendment campaign that came in like a storm. Such an important year, however, is fading away At 11 p.m. on Jun. 30, the Hong Kong SAR National Security Law was passed and immediately went into effect. Aren clicked on the Telegram app on his cell phone and scrolled through his chat history. Except for a few familiar friends who were still online, all that was left was a vast space stating “Deleted Account.” “The rows of user avatars had turned into gray cartoon ghost patterns.” Aren counted for a while, and there were almost 50 of these ghosts. Aren downloaded the Telegram app last year in order to easily interview members of the anti-amendment movement. This was the most commonly used contact method among demonstrators, but “the National Security Law came crashing down and they all retreated.” He didn't know it was just the beginning. Within the next two months, Aren watched past interviewees leave Hong Kong forever, become imprisoned, or just disappear. Every time Aren opened his phone contacts, he was stunned. “Recently, I tried very hard to think about the anti-amendment movement last year, on what day and where did I meet someone, and what they said to me. Sometimes I really can’t recall. As the record of contacts disappeared until there was nothing left, it seemed that my memories were slowly disappearing as well.” “News is the first draft of history.” In the past, every time he wrote a draft in the office and felt discouraged, a colleague would say this to boost his morale. Aren would always reply half-jokingly, “What good does saying these clichés do?” In the past few months, he seemed to finally understand the weight of this sentence. On Jul. 21, Aren visited those injured in last year’s 721 Yuen Long Station attack. Some people still suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. He still deliberately avoids the Yuen Long MTR [Hong Kong’s Mass Transit Railway] station. More than a month later, Chen Tianzhu, the senior superintendent of the Criminal Headquarters of the New Territories North, pointed out that the incident at the 721 Yuen Long Station was no different than an “indiscriminate attack.” He also described the two sides who confronted each other in the station lobby as being “evenly matched.” After watching the live broadcast, those interviewed at the incident were discouraged and sent a message to Aren, calling the statement “lies.” Aren didn't know how to react. When he first entered the industry, Aren thought he wouldn’t do it for long. The media industry has long working hours, limited staff, and high rates of work pressure. There is an industry saying that the professional lifespan of a reporter has a “three-year minimum and five-year maximum.” There aren’t many people who can stay in it long-term, but they don't know that. For instance, Aren exceeded the five-year maximum. “Before the anti-amendment movement broke out, I thought about changing careers. Being on the front line of the news every day … it was exhausting, but suddenly you would run into a major story and felt that you were responsible for society and couldn't leave.” Faced with all of the unknowns that the National Security Law has brought to the media industry, Aren said that he has not been that worried. “It’s normal to be afraid. It’s impossible not to be afraid. But when there are so many unknowns, I can only do what I need to do, continue interviewing, and continue reporting,” he said with a smile. “The role of a reporter is to create an objective report, to be a supervisor of power, no matter who holds the power. In this regard, we have always been a thorn in the eye of the regime, and now we are finally returning to this role. That's it. Do what you should do, that's enough." (Interviewees' names have been changed to protect their identities.)
