作者：黄娟
编辑：程伟 责任编辑：侯改英 校对：王滨 翻译：彭小梅
2025 年的大埔宏福苑大火，造成 至少 159 人死亡、数十人受伤。这是香港几十年来最惨烈的住宅灾难，也是香港社会近年最深刻的伤痛。火焰不仅吞噬了混凝土与钢筋，更吞噬了香港人对制度最后的信任。这场火烧掉的，不只是楼宇与生命，而是香港被不断削弱的制度、被侵蚀的治理能力，以及被掏空的社会信任。
一、这场灾难本来完全可以避免
从可燃材料到封死的外墙，从层层违规的施工，到居民投诉长期被敷衍……每一个环节都清楚显示，这不是单点事故，而是治理体系已经烂到根上的结果。监管部门不监管、承包商只图便宜、官员推诿塞责，而所有这些“本来应该避免悲剧的人”，却在火势蔓延的那一刻统统缺席。
二、香港的制度早已无法自我修复
在中共主导的治理方向下，香港的行政体系被迫不断政治化、集中化，官员只关心政治安全，不关心公共安全；只关心维稳，不关心生命；只关心向上负责，不再向下负责。当忠诚成为最重要的能力，专业便不再重要；当政治优先盖过民生，悲剧只是迟早的事。大火揭示的，不是某个承包商的腐败、某个监理的疏忽，而是一个被政治操控至失去专业灵魂的城市.
一个本来以透明、问责、专业著称的香港，已经在系统性侵蚀下变得支离破碎。火灾发生后，政府表现出来的不是愧疚，不是承担，而是害怕批评、害怕追责、害怕有人问“为什么”。于是便出现了：封口、降调、切割责任，把悲剧当成意外，把制度性问题当成“个别事件”。事实上，我们都心知肚明：这不是意外，是必然。这不是事故，是体制失效的结果。这不是无人可控，而是无人想要负责。
159条生命，成为政治与官僚惰性下的牺牲品。而只要香港继续在这种治理逻辑下运作，只要一切维稳优先、政治优先、忠诚优先——下一场悲剧永远不会太远。香港值得更好的治理，值得一个把人民生命放在第一位的制度，而不是一个只会喊口号、推责任、遮丑闻的权力结构。若连这样一场惨烈的大火都无法唤醒掌权者，那香港真正燃烧的，不是楼宇——而是未来。
1997年7月1日，香港在欢呼与烟火中回归中国。那一夜，无数人相信历史将开启新篇章——“一国两制”被包装成政治智慧的象征，象征专制与自由可以共存，象征制度可以兼容差异与自治。《中英联合声明》郑重写下“港人治港，高度自治，五十年不变”。人们以为，香港会在主权与自由之间找到平衡。那时的香港，是世界的香港，是东方最后一块自由土地。
然而，二十多年过去，事实证明那场庆典不过是序幕。香港的回归，并不是通往融合的起点，而是通往控制的起点。这座曾代表法治、开放与新闻自由的城市，在权力的逻辑中被一步步改造成一个可被掌控的样本。所谓“一国两制”，不过是一场精心设计的过渡期——目的从未是共存，而是彻底吸纳。
2003年的“二十三条立法”抗议，十万人走上街头；2014年白皮书的发布、“8·31决定”的落地与“占中运动”的爆发；2019年“反送中”运动成为最后的抗争。这一系列事件，不是偶然的碰撞，而是宿命的轨迹。每一次抵抗，都让中共更确定：自由是威胁，自治是幻觉，必须被消除。
三、以“国家安全”为名降临的《国安法》
自2020年起，香港的政治生态发生了结构性变化，三权分立已不复存在。立法会选举机制被全面重构，“爱国者治港”原则确保议会只剩单一声音。司法系统的独立性被侵蚀，法官遴选与判决面临政治压力。行政体系则完全听命于中央，自治已形同虚设。
公民社会被系统性瓦解，独立媒体被关停，《苹果日报》《立场新闻》相继消失；工会、学生会、民间组织被迫解散；言论与出版自由受到全面监控，民众形成“寒蝉效应”。在这样的政治环境中，自由经济的活力也难以长期维系。香港曾以法治、公信力和资讯自由吸引国际资本，但如今企业面对的不确定性大幅增加。国际金融中心的地位正逐步被新加坡取代——这并非短期可逆。
街头不再有抗议的声音，校园不再有讨论的空间。
香港人开始自我审查，新闻机构学会沉默，出版商学会删除。
自由的死亡，不是爆炸式的坍塌，而是细密的窒息——
当人们学会在沉默中生存，专制就赢了。
今天的香港，依旧灯火通明，地铁依旧准时运行，港岛金融区依旧忙碌。
但那是被控制的繁荣，是被监视的平静。
金融业的交易看似活跃，却建立在审查与恐惧之上；
法律依旧存在，却成了压制异议的工具；
教育体系被“爱国课程”取代，年轻一代在控制中成长，不再质疑、不再追问。
外在的繁荣掩盖了精神的荒芜，这正是专制最完美的胜利形式：
让一个社会在顺从中继续运转，在服从中自我修复。
过去，香港以独立司法和资讯自由赢得国际信任。
如今，这些支撑已被彻底掏空。
外资撤离，国际机构转向新加坡；
人才流出，思想迁移。
经济数据或许仍能维持“繁荣”，
但那只是数字意义上的活着——
灵魂意义上的香港，已经死了。
西方世界曾发出制裁与谴责，但无济于事。
香港的命运，不再由香港决定。
所有权力的源头都集中在北京，
而国际社会的抗议，只能成为道德表态。
自由世界无法拯救香港，因为香港的失败并非偶然——
而是一个被规划的结果。
它注定要被“收回”、被“同化”、被“改造”，
直至成为一个不会再谈自由的地方。
有些人仍在寻找希望，
但希望必须建立在可变的现实之上。
而香港的现实，是彻底的结构性控制。
选举被改造、法院被收编、媒体被瓦解、思想被阉割。
当所有通道都被封死时，所谓“希望”只是自我安慰。
香港不会“恢复”，因为它不被允许恢复。
专制不会让实验重来一次。
对北京而言，香港的沉默才是稳定的象征；
对世界而言，香港的死亡只是地缘政治的注脚。
这座城市的坠落，不仅是一场政治的失败，
更是一种文明的倒退。
它证明了一个残酷的事实：
当权力没有边界，承诺就没有意义；
当自由失去制度保障，繁荣也只是幻觉。
香港不是被时间遗弃的城市，而是被权力摧毁的城市。
她曾是自由的灯塔，如今成了专制的样板。
灯塔熄灭后，海面仍会闪光——但那只是火光的反射，不再是希望的光。
没有希望，也不需要希望。
因为希望意味着尚有回头的可能，而香港已无路可退。
她的命运已经完成，她的终结已然书写。
留下的只有一个事实：
专制赢了，自由输了。
这就是香港的结局。
没有重生，没有奇迹，只有沉默的延续——
和一座被记忆缓慢掩埋的城市。
Hong Kong in the Inferno
Abstract
Hong Kong’s political ecosystem has undergone a structural transformation. The separation of powers no longer exists; civil society has been systematically dismantled; independent media outlets have been shut down, with Apple Daily and Stand News disappearing one after another. Trade unions, student unions, and civic organizations have been forced to dissolve. Freedom of speech and publication is now subject to comprehensive surveillance.
Author: Huang Juan Editor: Cheng Wei Executive Editor: Hou Gaiying
Proofreader: Wang Bin Translator: Peng Xiaomei
The 2025 fire at Hong Fuk Court in Tai Po claimed at least 159 lives and left dozens injured. It was the deadliest residential disaster Hong Kong has witnessed in decades, and one of the deepest collective wounds the city has suffered in recent years. The flames did not merely consume concrete and steel; they devoured the last remaining trust Hong Kong people placed in their institutions.What burned was not only buildings and human lives, but also a governance system that had been steadily hollowed out, a capacity for effective administration that had been eroded, and a social trust that had already been pushed to the brink.
I. A Disaster That Was Entirely Preventable
From the use of flammable materials to sealed exterior walls; from layers of illegal construction to residents’ long-ignored complaints—every link in the chain clearly shows that this was not an isolated accident. It was the inevitable result of a governance system rotten to its core. Regulatory bodies failed to regulate. Contractors cut costs at any price. Officials passed responsibility from one desk to another. And those who should have prevented the tragedy were all absent at the very moment the fire spread beyond control.
II. A System No Longer Capable of Self-Correction
Under a governance direction dominated by the Chinese Communist Party, Hong Kong’s administrative system has been forced into relentless politicization and centralization. Officials prioritize political security over public safety, stability maintenance over human life, and accountability upward over responsibility to the people below. When loyalty becomes the most valued competence, professionalism ceases to matter. When politics overrides livelihoods, tragedy becomes only a matter of time. What the fire exposed was not merely corruption by a contractor or negligence by a supervisor, but a city whose professional soul has been hollowed out by political control.
Once renowned for transparency, accountability, and professionalism, Hong Kong has been torn apart by systematic erosion. After the fire, the government did not display remorse or take responsibility. Instead, it showed fear—fear of criticism, fear of accountability, fear of the question “why.” Thus came the familiar responses: silencing, downplaying, severing responsibility. A tragedy was framed as an accident; structural failures were reduced to “individual incidents.” Yet everyone knows the truth: this was not an accident, but an inevitability. Not an unforeseeable disaster, but the result of systemic failure. Not a lack of control, but a lack of will to be responsible.
One hundred and fifty-nine lives were sacrificed to political priorities and bureaucratic inertia. And as long as Hong Kong continues to operate under a logic that places stability above all, politics above life, and loyalty above accountability, the next tragedy will never be far away. Hong Kong deserves better governance—one that places human life above slogans, blame-shifting, and scandal-covering power structures. If even such a devastating fire cannot awaken those in power, then what is truly burning in Hong Kong is not its buildings, but its future.
On July 1, 1997, Hong Kong returned to China amid cheers and fireworks. Many believed history was opening a new chapter. “One Country, Two Systems” was presented as a symbol of political wisdom—a model in which authoritarianism and freedom could coexist, where sovereignty and autonomy might be balanced. The Sino–British Joint Declaration solemnly promised “Hong Kong people governing Hong Kong,” a high degree of autonomy, unchanged for fifty years. At that time, Hong Kong was the world’s Hong Kong—the last free land in the East.
More than two decades later, it is clear that the celebration was merely a prelude. Hong Kong’s return was not the beginning of integration, but the beginning of control. A city once defined by rule of law, openness, and press freedom was gradually reshaped into a controllable specimen under the logic of power. “One Country, Two Systems” was never meant to be coexistence. It was a carefully designed transitional period, whose ultimate purpose was absorption.
The 2003 protests against Article 23 legislation saw hundreds of thousands take to the streets. In 2014 came the White Paper, the “August 31 Decision,” and the Umbrella Movement. In 2019, the anti-extradition movement marked the final large-scale resistance. These were not random confrontations, but a predetermined trajectory. Each act of resistance only reinforced Beijing’s conclusion: freedom is a threat; autonomy is an illusion; both must be eliminated.
III. The National Security Law and the End of Autonomy
Since 2020, Hong Kong’s political ecosystem has undergone a structural transformation. The separation of powers no longer exists. The Legislative Council’s electoral system has been comprehensively restructured under the principle of “patriots governing Hong Kong,” ensuring that only one voice remains in the legislature. Judicial independence has been eroded. Judges face political pressure in appointments and rulings. The administrative system now answers directly to the central authorities; autonomy has become a fiction.
Civil society has been systematically dismantled. Independent media outlets have been shut down—Apple Daily and Stand News vanished in succession. Trade unions, student unions, and civic organizations were forced to dissolve. Freedom of speech and publication is subject to comprehensive surveillance, creating a pervasive chilling effect. Under such political conditions, even a free economy cannot endure. Hong Kong once attracted global capital through rule of law, credibility, and information freedom. Today, uncertainty has dramatically increased. Its status as an international financial center is gradually being replaced by Singapore—a shift that is not easily reversible.
There are no longer voices of protest on the streets. Campuses no longer host open debate.Hong Kong people have learned self-censorship. Newsrooms have learned silence.Publishers have learned deletion.
Freedom does not die in a single explosion. It dies through slow, meticulous suffocation. When people learn to survive in silence, authoritarianism has already won.
Today’s Hong Kong is still brightly lit. The subway still runs on time. The financial district remains busy.
But this is a controlled prosperity, a monitored calm.
Financial transactions appear active yet are built upon censorship and fear.
The law still exists, but as a tool to suppress dissent.
Education has been replaced with “patriotic curricula,” raising a generation that no longer questions or asks why.
External prosperity conceals internal desolation. This is authoritarianism’s most perfect victory: allowing society to continue functioning through obedience, repairing itself through submission.
In the past, Hong Kong earned international trust through judicial independence and information freedom.
Today, those foundations have been completely hollowed out.
Foreign capital withdraws. International institutions turn to Singapore.Talent flows out. Ideas migrate elsewhere.
Economic figures may still show “growth,” but that is survival in numerical terms only. In any meaningful sense, Hong Kong’s soul is already dead.
The Western world has issued sanctions and condemnations, but to little effect. Hong Kong’s fate is no longer determined by Hong Kong. All power now originates in Beijing, and international protest serves only as a moral statement.
The free world cannot save Hong Kong, because Hong Kong’s failure was not accidental—it was planned. It was meant to be “reclaimed,” “assimilated,” and “reengineered” until it became a place where freedom is no longer discussed.
Some still search for hope. But hope must be grounded in changeable reality. Hong Kong’s reality is one of total structural control. Elections redesigned. Courts co-opted. Media dismantled. Thought castrated.
When every channel is sealed, “hope” becomes nothing more than self-comfort. Hong Kong will not “recover,” because it is not allowed to recover. Authoritarianism does not permit the experiment to be rerun.
To Beijing, Hong Kong’s silence is stability.To the world, Hong Kong’s death is a geopolitical footnote.
The fall of this city is not merely a political failure—it is a civilizational regression. It proves a brutal truth: when power has no boundaries, promises are meaningless; when freedom lacks institutional protection, prosperity is an illusion.
Hong Kong was not abandoned by time. It was destroyed by power.Once a beacon of freedom, it is now a model of authoritarian control.After the lighthouse goes dark, the sea may still shimmer—but that is only the reflection of fire, not the light of hope.
There is no hope, and none is required.Hope implies the possibility of turning back. Hong Kong has no road back.
Its fate is complete. Its ending already written.What remains is a single fact:
Authoritarianism won.Freedom lost.
This is Hong Kong’s conclusion.No rebirth. No miracle.Only the continuation of silence—and a city slowly buried by memory.
