New/Alternative Art Space

Caption:

One of a series of photographs of the siege between protesters and police, Polytechnic University of Hong Kong, Tsim Sha Tsui, Kowloon, Hong Kong, 17 November 2019. Printed in the zine Pillow Hands, Heavy Feet – which can be bought at Booked: Hong Kong art book fair (Photo: John Batten).

(Please scroll down for English version)

從今天起至本周末，即1月17-19日，大館當代美術館將舉行一年一度的《BOOKED: 香港藝術書展》，參展單位分別來自本地、亞洲和國際，將展出（和出售）各種藝術書籍、藝術家製作的書籍和雜誌。同場還會舉辦講座、對話和展出特別展品，包括各國社會運動示威的雜誌。我最近便向張伊婷和曾智愛怡編輯的《Pillow Hands, Heavy Feet》提供稿和照片。該份雜誌的主題是「在幽默與憂傷、憤怒和異化之間擺動──廿三位供稿人……反思現時社會運動中的藝術策略，以及我們回應或處理集體改變的方法。」

拙作如下：

我在11月15日和17日到過理工大學。在11月16日晚上，警察與示威者在校園正門展開了激烈的攻防對峙，地點在平日交通繁忙的柯士甸路和漆咸道南交界，這裏是理大和香港歷史博物館、嘉諾撒聖瑪利書院，還有人民解放軍槍會山軍營為鄰的地方。

與此前的示威者／警察相遇的情況不同，示威路障和警察列陣在十字路口延續數天。警察從街道對面發射了一輪又一輪的催淚彈，配合兩架水炮車（或者某些人以本地粵方言輕蔑地稱為警察的「老婆」），多次噴出中含有獨特藍色染劑刺激性液體。對峙演變成大型圍堵，警察以近乎戰爭的隊型進攻與退守，而示威者則以汽油彈和湊合而成的投石器發射石頭防守。示威者最初佔了上風──他們佔據了有利位置，能俯視校園入口和十字路口，也控制了連接大學與港鐵東鐵線的架空行人天橋。當警方於11月17日封鎖所有校園出口後，圍堵很快便告終，而接下來的一個星期，有些示威者自願離開校園（並令自己隨時被捕），另一些則逃離現場。

這些照片記錄了圍堵事件的其中一個角度，就是示威者與警察之間的水戰。除了為人熟悉的黑衣，示威者還穿上了膠雨衣，以保護自己免受警方以水炮車發放的刺激性液體影響。示威者碰上了液體後，皮膚和眼睛都感刺痛。義務醫護以生理鹽水為中水炮者沖洗，然後收集樣本作分析用—政府說催淚彈和藍色水的化學成分因為「警務行動原因」而不能公開。

以下的照片是眾多刻劃理大示威者與警察之間「水圍城」的其中一幀作品。我最終在11月I7日午夜前，即警察封鎖所有出人口後，以自己的記者證離開理大。我打算返回上環的家，但所有鄰近的公共交通已停駛，於是只能向西區海底隧道進發。尖沙咀、佐敦和油麻地的街道儼如戰地，因為城中的年輕人都湧到這裏，希望幫忙「救救理大」。我不急着回家，所以繼續拍攝和親眼看清街上情況。那天的白晝與黑夜，我看到了很多令人不安的事件*，自己也經歷過一件這樣的事情。

走在金巴利道時，一名年輕女士上前向我展示自己的手機，並問我可否和她走到柯士甸道，那裏正有警察嘗試進入一間食肆拘捕示威者。示威者通常會請新聞界見證警察行動，而當時那區只有我是新聞界的人。我很快便同意到那邊去看個究竟，但只走了50米左右，我便被指向我的強光照得暈眩。我在兩輛汽車之間盤旋，然後走到行人路上，瞬間便被五名身穿黑衣的警察包圍。其中一位非常激動，把警棍指向我的頭部，不斷大呼「香港身份證、香港身份證！」我馬上拉下自己的催淚彈（紙）面罩，然後舉高雙手，說明自己的身份證放在背包內，而我將會除下背包再把它找出來。（這種情況下，可以很寬鬆地被理解為「反抗警察」，所以不建議作出任何未經解釋的動作）。幾秒後，當他仍然高呼「香港身份證」之際，他突然捉住了我的頭盔，然後猛力地把頭盔往後拉。幸而在下頜位置的鈕子是鬆開的，未至於令我連頭帶盔地被往後拉扯，否則可能造成嚴重傷害。我想那位警察看到我的白髮後，知道我並不年輕，頓時感到意外。另一位較冷靜的警察同僚介入，檢查我頸上掛着的記者證。這次遭遇只維持了幾分鐘，儘管我腦中想到可能出現進一步暴力和／或拘捕，我卻出奇地冷靜和接受。未幾，整件事就像它開始那樣突然結束了：我被盛氣凌人地揮手驅散。

我馬上遇到另外四位記者，加入了他們。我們緊隨那位警察，他不斷轉身，以強光照向我們和我們周圍，嚇唬說示威者可能出現突襲。街上的緊張情況可怕非常：年輕的警察和年輕的示威者受扭曲的對錯觀念鼓動，互有進攻與防守，還有互不信任的悲哀。

然後，因為金巴利道已被封路，我們無法前行，於是攀過後巷樓梯到了尖沙咀警署，那裏又是另一場示威者投擲汽油彈和警察發射橡膠子彈的對戰；另一件需要見證的事情。

*見2019年12月5日《明報周刊》的本欄舊作。


原文刊於《明報周刊》，2020年1月16日




More protest encounters

by John Batten


Starting today and continuing over the weekend (17-19 January) is Booked – the yearly art book fair held at Tai Kwun Contemporary. The fair will have exhibitors from Hong Kong, Asia and further afield showing (and selling) a variety of art books, artist-made books and zines. Complementing the fair will be talks, conversations and special displays, including of social protest zines from around the world. I recently contributed photographs and writing to Pillow Hands, Heavy Feet, edited by Ysabelle Cheung (張伊婷) and Eunice Tsang (曾智愛怡), a zine “oscillating between humour and grief, rage and alienation - the 23 contributors…reflect on the artistic strategies of the current social movement and the ways in which we respond to or process collective change.”

My small written contribution is as follows:

I visited the Polytechnic University on 15 November and 17 November. On the night of 16 November, police and protesters began an intense combative stand-off at the main campus entrance, at the intersection of Austin Road and Chatham Road South - a normally busy crossroad shared with the Hong Kong Museum of History, St Mary''s Canossian College and the People’s Liberation Army Gun Club Hill Barracks.

Unlike previous protester/police encounters, protest barricades and police lines became fixed at that intersection for many days. From across the street police fired round after round of tear gas, supported by two water cannon trucks (or in the local Cantonese vernacular, these trucks are disparagingly referred to as ''police wives'') firing multiple streams of toxic water, including a distinctive blue-dye formula. The stand-off grew into a full-blown siege with police advancing and retreating in battle-like formations, and protesters defending their positions with Molotov cocktails and stones, often catapulted with makeshift slingshots. The protesters were initially in superior positions - controlling an advantageous position overlooking the campus entrance and the road intersection, as well as controlling the elevated pedestrian overpasses linking the university to the MTR East Rail line. The siege ended quickly once police sealed the campus exits on 17 November - during the following week protesters voluntarily left the campus (making themselves vulnerable to arrest) or escaped.

These photographs document one aspect of the siege, the water-based battle between protesters and police. In a distinctive addition to their familiar black protest attire, protesters wear plastic raincoats, to protect themselves from the toxic water fired by the police water cannon trucks. Protesters covered with the toxic water experienced burning irritations to the skin and eyes. Medical volunteers flushed victims with saline solution and collected samples of the toxic water for analysis as the government stated that the chemical content of the tear gas and blue-dyed water could not be revealed due to "police operational reasons."

The photograph below is one of many depicting the ‘water siege’ between protesters and police at the PolyU. I eventually left PolyU just before midnight on 17 January after the police had sealed the exits, using my press pass to leave. I intended to return to my home in Sheung Wan, but all nearby public transport had been suspended, so I started walking to the Western harbour tunnel. The streets of Tsim Sha Tsui, Jordan and Yau Ma Tei were a battle-zone as young people throughout the city arrived to help “save PolyU.” I was in no hurry to get home, so I continued photographing and witnessing the street action. I saw many disturbing incidents that day and night* and then I encountered one of my own.

A young woman approached me as I walked along Kimberley Road, showed me her phone and asked if I could go to Austin Road, where the police were attempting to enter and arrest protesters in a restaurant. The press is often asked by protesters to witness police actions and I was the only member of the press in the area. I quickly agreed to see what was happening, but after walking a further 50 metres alone, I was dazzled by bright lights pointed at me. I hovered between two cars and then went on to the footpath and was quickly surrounded by five black-clad policemen. One was very aggressive, aiming his baton at my head, repeatedly yelling “Hong Kong ID card, Hong Kong ID card!” I immediately pulled down my (paper) tear-gas mask and put my hands in the air, saying that my ID card was in my backpack and I would take it off to retrieve it (‘resisting police’ can be loosely interpreted in these situations, so unexplained movements is not advised). Seconds later, while still yelling “Hong Kong ID card”, he suddenly grabbed my helmet and violently pulled it back from off my head. Luckily, the clasp under my chin was loose, so my head was not pulled back as well. That could have caused a serious injury. I think the policeman, on seeing my white hair (e.g. I wasn’t young), was momentarily surprised. His calmer police colleague then intervened and looked at the press ID around my neck. This encounter lasted only a few minutes and further violence and/or arrest went through my head, but I was strangely calm and accepting. Then, it ended as suddenly as it started: I was aggressively waved away.

Immediately, I met four other journalists, who I joined. We followed the same policemen, who continuously turned to shine bright torches at and around us, scared that protesters might emerge to attack. The tension on the streets was awful: young police and young protesters motivated by convoluted ideas of right and wrong, attack and defend, and the sad rot of mutual mistrust.

Then, blocked from walking further along Kimberley Road, we climbed back-alley stairways to the Tsim Sha Tsui police station, where a further battle between Molotov cocktail-throwing protesters and rubber bullet-firing police ensued; another encounter to be witnessed.

*See, for example, my article in Ming Pao Weekly, 5 December 2019


This article was originally published in Ming Pao Weekly on 16 January 2020. Translated into Chinese by Aulina Chan.