Although the United Kingdom’s former prime minister Edward Heath is normally remembered for taking his country into what is now the European Union in 1973, his role in improving Anglo-Chinese relations was also memorable. His former parliamentary private secretary, Peter Batey, recalled, “The twin passions of his life were Europe and China.”
On May 21, 1974, Heath, then the leader of the Conservative Party, arrived in China for a two-week trip. It was the first of the 26 visits to China he was to make over the next 27 years. Even though he had ceased to be prime minister two months previously, having served since 1970, he received a royal welcome. He was greeted at the Beijing airport by then-vice-premier Deng Xiaoping, and by what he described as a welcome “beyond my wildest imaginings”.
In his memoirs (1998), Heath recalled that his plane stopped “in the middle of a vast square containing thousands of young people waving flags, playing music and dancing to celebrate our arrival. I had never thought that such a reception in my honor was possible”. However, he can have been under no illusions as to the reason.
In 1972, Heath, who wanted to reset the relationship, decided that the UK would establish full diplomatic relations with China, earning him Beijing’s gratitude. He later explained that he did this for three reasons. He wanted to acknowledge China’s strategic position in the balance of world power, and pursue the UK’s economic interests. He also wished “to ensure the best possible future for Hong Kong”.
On the fourth day of his visit, Heath was taken to Zhongnanhai, the leadership compound in Beijing. He was welcomed by Chairman Mao Zedong, who normally only met heads of state or government. Mao’s team included premier Zhou Enlai, vice-foreign minister Qiao Guanhua, and Deng Xiaoping, and international affairs dominated the discussions.
Before the meeting concluded, Heath raised the issue of Hong Kong’s future. He told Mao that he wanted the “handover of Hong Kong to the mainland when the treaty expires in 1997 to be smooth and peaceful, in the interests of both our countries”. Mao responded, “That is what I also want.” It is unlikely that anybody present had any inkling that it would fall one day to one of their number, Deng Xiaoping, to bring this about.
However, the Heath-Mao consensus informed the deliberations of those who negotiated the Sino-British Joint Declaration on Hong Kong of 1984 (the JD). Both Deng, by then the paramount leader, and Margaret Thatcher, the UK prime minister, agreed that the city’s capitalist system and way of life should continue after 1997, which was embodied in the Basic Law in 1990. Although the smooth transition envisaged by Heath and Mao seemed assured, nobody could have foreseen that a political maverick with a vast ego would try to upset the applecart in the immediate run-up to 1997.
In 1989, five years after the JD was signed, negotiations continued behind the scenes in Beijing over the future shape of democracy in Hong Kong, and the nitty-gritty. The British negotiator was Sir Percy Cradock, Thatcher’s trusted foreign affairs adviser (he was nicknamed “Maggie’s mandarin”), and previously the UK’s chief JD negotiator. Remarkable progress was made on a joint timetable for elections in Hong Kong, including the vexed issue of directly elected seats for the Legislative Council.
In the resulting accord of 1990, it was agreed that there would be progressive increases in the number of directly elected seats in the Legislative Council, culminating in half of the seats in the third-term legislature being directly elected in 2004. The “eventual objective”, Cradock noted, “was a legislature that was composed of directly elected members”. This was a major breakthrough, unimaginable in the British era, and it showed Beijing’s commitment to democratic evolution. As Cradock later recalled, Hong Kong was guaranteed “a very fair measure of democracy”, which was fully reflected in the Basic Law of that year.
When the last governor, Chris Patten, arrived in Hong Kong in 1992, things took a turn for the worse. The carefully sculpted electoral arrangements were endangered, and cooperation became a dirty word. A careerist lacking any serious understanding of China, Patten imagined that political grandstanding would attract popularity in Hong Kong and enhance his standing back home, where he was talked about as a future leader of the Conservative Party.
Without Beijing’s agreement, Patten manipulated the agreed arrangements for the forthcoming Legislative Council elections (the last to be held under British rule), which was asking for trouble. He hit upon the idea of expanding the number of voters for the 1995 Legislative Council elections, with 10 councilors also being elected by an 800-member Election Committee, which would be chosen by popular ballot.
Starmer’s Labour Party government says it will pursue the “3C” policy of “cooperate, compete, challenge” on China. If its slogan means anything, it will hopefully mark an end to the confrontation beloved of the US and its proxies, and a return to the enlightened stance envisaged by Heath. If so, it will significantly advance the interests of both countries and their peoples
Although this flew in the face of years of painstaking diplomacy, Patten slagged off the Sinologists like Cradock who advised him to desist, and told the business leaders who urged caution they were “creeps” and “toadies”. When Sir Geoffrey Howe, who was the foreign secretary when the JD was signed (and had previously served in Heath’s government), observed that the Chinese had a right to feel aggrieved by what Patten was doing, he refused to listen (and impugned his motives).
Even when Beijing warned that if Patten implemented his changes in 1995, the Legislative Council that resulted would be abolished, he pressed ahead regardless. This spelled the death knell for the much anticipated “through-train” for the Legislative Council (which would have allowed the last legislature of the British-era to be sworn in as the first legislature of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region in 1997). By deliberately derailing it, Patten inevitably attracted allegations of bad faith for his country.
Indeed, shortly before Patten arrived in Hong Kong, the British foreign secretary, Douglas Hurd, in exchanges with his counterpart, Qian Qichen, expressed the hope that “by agreement with you”, faster progress toward democracy might be possible in future elections. In other words, there would be no changes without Beijing’s concurrence.
However, Patten claimed ignorance of this exchange and proceeded unilaterally. This not only violated the Hurd-Qian understanding, but smacked to Beijing of foul play, and a possible attempt to tie its hands post-1997. Irrespective of what had been agreed, Patten relished confrontation, even if it meant playing fast and loose with Hong Kong’s democratic settlement.
As Cradock noted, Patten’s electoral changes were “a very serious mistake,” and would “end in tears”. This duly occurred in 1997, when the Patten-created Legislative Council was replaced by a provisional body. Although Cradock was vindicated, Patten never forgave him and can be heard traducing him to this day (Cradock died in 2010).
In 2017, the chairman of Jardine Matheson Holdings, Sir Henry Keswick, who also dealt with Patten during his governorship, remarked that, instead of slagging off Cradock, it would have been better if Patten “had listened a little more to advice and understood the history of China and the rise of the Communist Party”. However, Patten felt he knew better than anybody else, and was determined to create a splash, however foolhardy. This undoubtedly explains why Keswick “always found him a bit of a snob”.
It was not only Cradock who was disgusted by Patten’s rashness. Edward Heath was also appalled, noting he “chose not to adhere to the arrangement so far as the 1995 election was concerned”. The UK had “no right” to do this, and Patten’s cavalier disregard of what had been solemnly agreed “led to China’s decision to abolish the Legislative Council upon the handover”.
Although Heath had long since left the government when Patten came to Hong Kong, he was still a member of Parliament , and his views were echoed by Britain’s deputy prime minister during Patten’s governorship, Michael Heseltine. In 2000, he pointed out that the UK’s “last-minute change of heart” on the democratic model was hypocritical, implied a lack of trust in Chinese willingness to abide by the JD, and was certain to fail without Beijing’s approval.
And fail it did, but, said Heseltine, “not before much suspicion about our motives had been aroused.” So it was that Patten not only ensured there would be no “through-train” in 1997 but also undid much of the Anglo-Chinese goodwill that the likes of Heath, Thatcher, Howe and Cradock had engendered over many years.
Once again, thanks to Patten, the UK, which caused so much harm to China in the 19th century with its gunboats, opium and pillaging, was seen by many observers as “Perfidious Albion”. Were he not blinded by arrogance, he would long since have realized just how inglorious his legacy is, and that his governorship was doomed from the moment he chose confrontation over engagement with Beijing.
It was a huge pity that the prime minister who appointed Patten, John Major, did not rein him in once it became clear he was out of his depth. However, Patten was his close friend, and, as Conservative Party chairman, had helped him to win the general election in 1992. Had Patten not lost his parliamentary seat in the Bath constituency, Major would have appointed him the UK’s finance minister (chancellor of the exchequer). He therefore gave Patten a free hand, disregarding the danger signals, which proved disastrous.
Indeed, Michael Heseltine, who, as the trade minister, dealt directly with China, witnessed for himself the harm Patten was causing to his country’s interests. He pithily concluded that Patten’s governorship illustrated “the dangers and complications inherent for any prime minister in appointing a personal friend to so sensitive an official post”.
However, in the grand sweep of history, Patten was an aberration. There is no reason for the harm he and his political heirs on the hard right have caused to blight Anglo-Chinese relations forever. Out of office, he has now reverted to type, and his true colors are there for all to see. He has become a patron of Hong Kong Watch, the anti-China hate machine, and he now spends his days firing barbs at Beijing, often over Hong Kong. It is a sad ending for a talented individual who professed affection for the place whose future he foolishly imperiled.
In his memoirs, Edward Heath noted presciently that the UK-China relationship “can be beneficial to both our countries and our peoples, and I hope very much that the new generation of British political leaders will choose to pursue a similarly constructive dialogue with their opposite numbers in Beijing”. Although his message was lost on some of his successors, including Boris Johnson, Liz Truss and Rishi Sunak, there are signs it has been heard by the current prime minister, Sir Keir Starmer (who is reportedly dispatching both his foreign secretary, David Lammy, and his finance minister, Rachel Reeves, to Beijing on goodwill visits in the near future).
Starmer’s Labour Party government says it will pursue the “3C” policy of “cooperate, compete, challenge” on China. If its slogan means anything, it will hopefully mark an end to the confrontation beloved of the US and its proxies, and a return to the enlightened stance envisaged by Heath. If so, it will significantly advance the interests of both countries and their peoples.
The author is a senior counsel and law professor, and was previously the director of public prosecutions of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region.
The views do not necessarily reflect those of China Daily.
