——从宏福苑大火的最终处理，看香港走上“中国式问责”的套路
作者：孔祥庆
2025年11月26日，香港大埔宏福苑爆发五级大火。一支烟头、一堆易燃杂物，烧了43个小时，8座楼烧掉7座，168人遇难（包括1名消防员），79人受伤——这是77年来香港最惨烈的火灾。
2026年10月，历时一年的独立调查委员会交出最终报告，处理结果也随之落定。细看这一案，几乎是一份完美的“背锅学”教材。这也再次印证了一个冷酷的事实：香港已不再是那个法治与问责彰显的香港，而是日益融入中共治下大城市的行政逻辑与套路中。
一、 责任下沉：理想的“底层背锅者”
报告认定，火灾“最可能”由一根烟头点燃宏昌阁平台堆积的可燃物料引起。于是责任链条从下往上层层推演：扔烟头的工人——无姓名、无面孔，甚至始终未被确认身份；买了非阻燃棚网的二判商；应承建商“以免引起事故”的要求关掉消防总掣、连带关掉火警钟的电工；向消防假称“维修期间不会关警钟”的消防承办商；以及承建商宏业建筑的两名董事。
最终，7人及2家公司被起诉，罪名集中在“误杀”和“诈骗”。锅总有一个最合适的背法——顺理成章地落到一个具体的、低级的、甚至连名字都没有的基层人员身上。扔烟头的人堪称理想背锅者：他确实点了火，但没人知道他到底是谁。
二、 监管缺位：避重就轻的“意外事故”
然而，真正该承担监管职责的部门又在何处？这场大火本身是政府“强制验楼计划”派生的工程：2016年发令，2019年的验楼报告已明列外墙混凝土爆裂、钢筋外露等严苛问题，工程却拖到2024年才动工；名义上分三期，实际8座楼同时被竹棚和防火能力不合格的围网所罩。
劳工处连续收到居民16次关于工人吸烟的投诉，巡查16次却次次“没有发现”，既不发禁烟令也不发停工令，还与消防处踢皮球声称“公众安全不属我们管”；房屋局独立审查组指示承建商更换棚网后，从未查验新购围网是否阻燃，对承建商递交的伪造检测证书听之任之；烧楼那晚，政府斥资一亿建成的“手机紧急警示系统”更是一声不响。
面对这一连串的系统性失职与监管瘫痪，独立委员会的最终定性却轻飘飘地落在四个字上：属意外事故。
三、 官僚过关：“政治责任”的避风港
再看官方的后续处理：特首率官员鞠躬道歉，宣布“政治任命团队承担政治责任”。翻译成现实逻辑，就是由民选的业主立案法团和出资的1984户业主自己承受损失。房屋局局长何永贤一人请辞，问责即止——而何永贤的任期本来就只剩三个月。
政府代表律师在总结陈词里直言：“没有客观证据支持政府人员和承建商串通，将责任全归咎政府是不公允”，并呼吁专业人士应该“自觉自律”。
与此形成鲜明对比的是，第一个组织联署为灾民发声的24岁大学生关靖丰，成了第一个被国安处拘捕的人；而那个所谓的“独立”调查委员会，从一开始就没有法定权力强制证人作供。“问责到底”喊了许久，宏福苑大火证明：所谓的“底”，不过是“政治责任”这块遮羞布。担下去的是形式上的责任，保住的却是实质上的权力。
四、 “中国式问责”在香港的复制
纵观调查时长、报告定性与后续处置，这套操作展现出极其熟悉的“中国式问责”逻辑：责任可以归咎于任何基层个体，实在不行找个替罪羊，而最不可能承担实质责任的就是各级政府与官员。其核心逻辑在于维持官僚体制的“伟光正”形象，绝不进行深层的体制反思与根本道歉。
这种“避重就轻、政治洗牌”的案例在大陆比比皆是。例如震惊中外的三鹿毒奶粉事件中，多名被问责下台的官员随后纷纷复出或异地升迁：前河北省委常委、石家庄市委书记吴显国后任河北省政府党组成员；被处分的孙咸泽此后升任国家食药监总局副局长；被问责的王智才亦复出担任农业部总畜牧师。这种“问责-避风-复出”的循环，正是该体制下固有的政治惯性。
结语：法治沦丧与制度侵蚀
宏福苑大火的处置，将体制的冷酷展现无遗。高官免于实质追责，基层沦为背锅工具，发声者反被收监。这不仅是对168条生命的漠视，更是对香港以往引以为傲的法治精神与制度尊严的沉重打击。
一支烟头，一口黑锅。当行政权力的自我保护凌驾于公众利益与法治之上，留在历史记录里的，终究只剩下一声叹息。
编辑：李晶 校对：熊辩 翻译：沈美花
One Cigarette Butt, One Scapegoat
— Seeing How Hong Kong Has Adopted the “Chinese-Style Accountability” Playbook Through the Final Handling of the Wang Fuk Court Fire
Author:Kong Xiangqing
On November 26, 2025, a No. 5 alarm fire broke out at Wang Fuk Court in Tai Po, Hong Kong. One cigarette butt and a pile of flammable debris burned for 43 hours, destroying seven out of eight residential blocks, killing 168 people (including one firefighter), and injuring 79—making it Hong Kong’s deadliest fire in 77 years.
In October 2026, after a year-long inquiry, the independent commission of inquiry handed over its final report, and the official disciplinary outcomes were subsequently finalized. A close look at this case reveals an almost textbook example of “the art of scapegoating.” It once again confirms a cold reality: Hong Kong is no longer the Hong Kong where the rule of law and public accountability shone, but is increasingly being assimilated into the administrative logic and political playbook of major cities under the rule of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP).
I. Downward Shift of Responsibility: The Ideal “Low-Level Scapegoat”
The report concluded that the fire was “most likely” started by a cigarette butt igniting combustible materials piled on the podium of Wang Cheong House. Consequently, the chain of responsibility was traced strictly from the bottom up: the worker who tossed the cigarette butt—nameless, faceless, and never even identified; the sub-subcontractor who purchased non-flame-retardant scaffolding netting; the electrician who shut off the main fire control switch at the contractor’s request “to avoid triggering false alarms,” thereby disabling the fire alarm bells as well; the fire services contractor who falsely claimed to the Fire Services Department that “alarm bells would not be turned off during maintenance”; and two directors of the main contractor, Wang Yip Construction.
In the end, seven individuals and two companies were prosecuted, with charges focused on “manslaughter” and “fraud.” The blame always finds the most convenient shoulders to land on—falling logically onto a specific, low-ranking grassroots worker who does not even have a name. The person who tossed the cigarette butt is the quintessential scapegoat: he did indeed start the fire, yet nobody knows who he actually is.
II. Regulatory Absence: Downplaying Systemic Failure as an “Accident”
Yet where were the government departments that were truly supposed to bear regulatory responsibility? The fire itself stemmed from works ordered under the government’s “Mandatory Building Inspection Scheme”: the order was issued in 2016, and a 2019 inspection report had already flagged severe defects such as spalling exterior concrete and exposed rebar, yet construction dragged on until 2024 before starting. Nominally divided into three phases, all eight buildings were in reality wrapped simultaneously in bamboo scaffolding and substandard, non-fire-resistant netting.
The Labour Department received 16 consecutive complaints from residents about workers smoking on-site, conducted 16 inspections, and yet reported “no violations found” every single time—issuing neither a smoking ban nor a stop-work order, while passing the buck to the Fire Services Department by claiming that “public safety does not fall under our jurisdiction.” After the Housing Bureau’s Independent Checking Unit instructed the contractor to replace the scaffolding netting, it never inspected whether the newly purchased netting was flame-retardant, turning a blind eye to the forged testing certificates submitted by the contractor. On the night the buildings burned, the government’s “Emergency Alert System” for mobile phones—built at a cost of HK$100 million—remained completely silent.
Faced with this string of systemic derelictions of duty and regulatory paralysis, the independent commission’s final characterization landed lightly on a few breezy words: it was an “accidental incident.”
III. Bureaucrats Off the Hook: The Safe Harbor of “Political Responsibility”
Look next at the official follow-up: the Chief Executive led a group of officials in bowing to apologize and announced that “the politically appointed team will bear political responsibility.” Translated into real-world logic, this means the democratically elected Owners’ Corporation and the 1,984 flat owners who funded the renovation are left to bear the losses themselves. Secretary for Housing Winnie Ho resigned alone, and accountability stopped right there—even though Ho only had three months left in her term anyway.
In his closing submission, the government’s counsel stated bluntly: “There is no objective evidence to support collusion between government officials and the contractors; blaming the government entirely is unfair,” while calling on industry professionals to exercise “self-awareness and self-discipline.”
In stark contrast, Kwan Ching-fung, a 24-year-old university student who was the first to organize a petition speaking up for the victims, became the first person arrested by the National Security Department; meanwhile, the so-called “independent” commission of inquiry lacked statutory power from the very beginning to compel witnesses to testify. For all the loud slogans of “pursuing accountability to the very end,” the Wang Fuk Court fire proved that the so-called “end” is nothing more than the fig leaf of “political responsibility.” What was shouldered was nominal responsibility; what was preserved was substantive power.
IV. The Replication of “Chinese-Style Accountability” in Hong Kong
Looking across the duration of the investigation, the framing of the report, and the subsequent handling, this entire operation exhibits an all-too-familiar “Chinese-style accountability” logic: blame can be pinned on any grassroots individual, or a scapegoat found if all else fails, while those least likely to bear substantive responsibility are the government and officials at various levels. Its core logic lies in preserving the bureaucracy’s “great, glorious, and correct” image, never engaging in deep institutional reflection or offering a fundamental apology.
Such cases of “downplaying the grave while magnifying the trivial, and political reshuffling” abound in mainland China. For instance, in the 2008 Sanlu tainted milk powder scandal that shocked China and the world, multiple officials who were removed from office in the name of accountability soon staged comebacks or received promotions elsewhere: Wu Xianguo, former member of the Hebei Provincial Party Standing Committee and Party Secretary of Shijiazhuang, later served as a member of the Hebei Provincial Government Party Leadership Group; Sun Xianze, who was disciplined over the scandal, was later promoted to Deputy Director of the China Food and Drug Administration; and Wang Zhicai, who was also held accountable, returned to serve as Chief Veterinarian of the Ministry of Agriculture. This cycle of “accountability—laying low—comeback” is an inherent political inertia under this system.
Conclusion: The Decline of the Rule of Law and Institutional Erosion
The handling of the Wang Fuk Court fire has laid bare the coldness of the system. Senior officials escape substantive accountability, grassroots workers are reduced to tools for taking the blame, and those who speak out are thrown behind bars. This is not only a callous disregard for 168 lives, but also a heavy blow to the spirit of the rule of law and institutional dignity that Hong Kong once took pride in.
One cigarette butt, one scapegoat. When the self-preservation of administrative power overrides the public interest and the rule of law, all that remains in the historical record is a heavy sigh.
Editor: Li Jing Proofreader: Xiong Bian Translator: Shen Meihua
