So, heads have rolled in Hong Kong. But there are no signs that public anger at Tung Chee-hwa - the chief executive - is now on the wane.

At this testing time, what is most intolerable to Hong Kong people is perhaps the fact that despite the resignations of Financial Secretary Antony Leung and Security Secretary Regina Ip amid calls for a thorough overhaul of the government branches, Tung remains unseated and 'stands tall'.

As security secretary, Ip was at the forefront of pushing for the controversial Article 23 of the Basic Law, Hong Kong's mini constitution. Her departure from the government is therefore greeted with relief and even euphoria by the general public.

To make it easier for me to comprehend the far-reaching and severe implications, a friend from Hong Kong referred to Article 23 as - if passed - 'our version of the Internal Security Act'.

As for Leung, he should have been sacked by Tung earlier this year when he imported a luxury car before announcing a tax increase on imported luxury cars. But with Tung's unswerving backing, he managed to hang on to his job for a few more months. He is now likely to face corruption charges arising from his dodgy car deal.

'Bejing-like'

But why should Tung stay when his two important officers are gone?

This only demonstrates one thing: in Hong Kong, political management is becoming more and more 'Beijing-like'. By sacrificing one or two scapegoats, the Tung administration is pinning on the hope that it would soothe the mounting public discontent.

Singapore's Senior Minister Lee Kuan Yew, himself no stranger to authoritarian rule, has got it absolutely right: what would become of the central government's dignity if Tung, who had been appointed by Beijing, were ditched?

In Chinese politics, there is a euphemistic term for it: Qi Ju Bao Shuai, or 'abandon the chariot and save the commander-in-chief'.

For the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), such has been a convenient way of solving political dilemmas since it founded the People's Republic in 1949.

Beijing's staunch support for Tung can also be explained by the fact that Tung was handpicked by ex-President Jiang Zemin to become the 'front-running' candidate for the Chief Executive Office. This was clearly illustrated at a press conference held by Jiang in Beijing after a Tung's courtesy call on the president in December 2000.

When asked about the issue of democracy by a Hong Kong journalist, Jiang instantly snapped and chastised him for being 'too simple, too nave', while Tung was sitting comfortably on the sofa, nodding with smiles.

Since the incident, some journalism lecturers in Hong Kong began to joke that they are now attached to the 'Department of the Simple and Nave'.

Furthermore, changing the top-man in Hong Kong is tantamount to challenging Jiang's authority, who remains chairperson of the Central Military Commission overseeing China's armed forces. Still new to his job as president and party chief, Hu Jintao will not risk any unnecessary internal conflict at a time when his preoccupation is with building up his power base progressively.

Since the massive turnout of 500,000 for a street demonstration on July 1, while the leaders from Beijing were joining their junior counterparts in the territory for the sixth anniversary of the resumption of sovereignty by the Chinese authorities, Hong Kong has seen two more rallies outside the Legislative Council (Leco) building, albeit on a much smaller scale. At first, Zhong Nan Hai, the official residential quarters of the Chinese top leaders in Beijing, chose to keep mum, but no longer.

On July 14, the Hong Kong edition of the official China Daily, lashed out at the pro-democracy forces for 'hijacking the protest and using Hong Kong people for their own political purposes'.

Outside forces

Meanwhile, representatives sent by Beijing to monitor the situation in Hong Kong after July 1 have stated that the investigation would include if there had been 'outside forces' playing a role. One wonders who should bear the blame if some 500,000 people living on Chinese soil could have been so easily agitated by foreigners.

Finally, Gao Shiren of the Central Government Liaison Office cautioned that Hong Kong must not be 'over-politicised' at the expense of its commercial interests. This argument is not new. Ever since the Sino-Anglo negotiation on Hong Kong handover first kicked off in 1981, the Chinese authorities have been maintaining that Hong Kong is an economic rather than a political city.

To be fair to Beijing, the impression that Hong Kong is an economic city began during British colonial rule. London only had Hong Kong's economic interests in mind, and had made no attempt to build up a democratic system there. The economic take-off of the 1970s saw the tiny Chinese enclave of Britain rise to become a financial centre in Asia, second only to Tokyo, and many Hong Kong residents were happy to indulge in all the goodies that came with the phenomenal growth.

One must, however, not be deceived by the CCP. In the 1960s, left-wing forces were gaining ground in Hong Kong, culminating in the most violent riot against British rule in the island's history in 1967.

Almost all the participants in the anti-colonial movement looked to Beijing for ideological nourishment, and the CCP gave its strongest approval possible for the patriotic act of the Hong Kong people at that time, a far cry from its economy-above-all-else rhetoric of today.

The Sino-Anglo negotiation process woke the Hong Kong people up from their dream of perpetual prosperity, while the Tiananmen Massacre in 1989 prompted London to come to terms with its democratic obligations to Hong Kong. Alas! This realisation had come too late.

An admirer of Westminster democracy myself, I nevertheless hold the view that the British have to share a fair chunk of the responsibility for Hong Kong's lack of comprehensive democratic rule today. Had comprehensive democratic institutions been established in Hong Kong way before the handover issue came to fore, Beijing might find it an insurmountable task to dismantle the long-entrenched democratic traditions in their entirety.

Having said that, credit must be given to last governor Christopher Patten for his brave move to introduce the direct elections of Leco members in 1995. In contrast, the so-called chief executive election at the end of 1996 was a blatant pseudo-democracy, whereby a few hundred pro-China politicians, businessmen and intellectuals voted for Tung Chee-hwa at the advice of Beijing.

Democratic retrogression

The drastic democratic retrogression within a short span of two years is indeed a farce in history, which also lays bare the reality that Hong Kong would from then on be at the mercy of the ultimate authority north of the border.

No doubt, not all who took to the streets in protest of the proposed Article 23 genuinely believe in the need for democratic institutions. A large segment of them could have done so because of the gloomy economic outlook, which had triggered their deepest discontent since the handover.

I seriously doubt if the democracy leaders would have mobilised half of the participants in the protest into anti-Tung action if there was an economic boom.

The CCP, too, understands this crucial point very well. As Yen Chien-fa, a Taiwanese scholar, puts it, in order to mitigate the waves of protest, it is most likely that Beijing will widen trade incentives and privileges for Hong Kong goods to enter the mainland.

In doing so, the CCP authorities would easily kill two birds with one stone: sweetening Hong Kong people with economic benefits and alienating the democracy leaders from the populace. It is not at all impossible that this carrot-and-stick strategy, if played well, would divide the democracy forces in the long run.

This crisis in Hong Kong is more than a simple loss of confidence in the Tung administration; it is also a pronounced anxiety of the Hong Kong people about the authoritarian regime behind it. During British rule, the democratically elected government in London would simply replace a Hong Kong governor with another once the incumbent appeared to have lost the trust of the local people.

Now it seems that Hong Kong people can do nothing about the Beijing-backed Tung. Seen in this light, it becomes easier to explain why Beijing has taken a swipe at the democracy leaders when calls for direct election of chief executive are being heard.

Hong Kong missed the opportunity for greater democratic participation during the British era. It is thus my sincere hope that this time Hong Kong people will exhibit greater political wisdom by not sacrificing the democratic process for the promised economic prosperity in the future.

JOSH HONG is trained in international politics. While distraught by all ongoing global conflicts, he nevertheless considers reconciling the many paradoxes and differences in human life to be a cause worthy of lifelong pursuit.