China's capture of Hong Kong's elite has failed to gain popular advantage

In early August, amid clashes between protesters and police, Beijing abruptly sent Hong Kong tycoons and pro-China politicians to a meeting in Shenzhen, just across the border.

Once there, the Chinese authorities responsible for Hong Kong demanded a meeting of the 500-strong delegation "stand up" to protesters and organize counter-demonstrations, to show the city's "positive energy."

In Hong Kong, as elsewhere in the world, the Chinese have long sought to cooperate with business and political elites and then encourage them to lobby on Beijing's behalf.

However, as the wake of the Shenzhen meeting showed, the strategy has largely been a failure. In the days that followed, the protests intensified, culminating with the occupation and closure of the Hong Kong airport.

In country after country, China's campaigns to capture the elites have not translated into support in the wider community. Whatever efforts tycoons and others may have made to return to Hong Kong, they had little impact, which is true not only of recent protests, but for years.

Beijing so far seems unable to settle for a new strategy to win over the hearts and minds of ordinary citizens in many countries, including Hong Kong.

Beijing's failure is ominous for the future of Hong Kong. Without seduction in their arsenal, the Chinese system's natural standard can be power.

The Hong Kong tycoons, along with the territory's political leaders, may have been the simplest targets for anyone in this global strategy, such as their livelihoods and careers, by and large, living and dying at Beijing's words.

Beginning long before the 1[ads1]997 surrender from the United Kingdom, Beijing has regularly called Hong Kong's rich and powerful to cross-border meetings. Some have even gotten seats on political bodies that have been adjusted by the Beijing Communist Party.

Prior to the surrender, such meetings showed Beijing's power and tycoon's submission. Several billionaires were called to Shenzhen and forced to line up outside buildings, often in extreme heat, waiting to be admitted to meetings to get their political marching orders.

However, if there is any indication in recent years, the cultivation of the Hong Kong elite has had zero impact on public opinion. The former British colony's elite may have thrown a lot with Beijing, but the rest of the population has gone in the opposite direction.

Beijing has tried the same elite trapping tactics around the world, but it has almost always run into the popular disillusionment tandem.

In the United States, the big business was voted to great effect by the Chinese, and for many years was an important moderation vote for any administration that wanted to be tough on Beijing.

But Beijing's cultivation of American business, just as it has happened in Hong Kong, failed to persuade anyone outside its gilded paths to learn to love China.

In the United States, the opposite may have actually happened. Ordinary Americans saw big companies join forces with China and other Asian countries before that, by shifting investment and hollowing out local economies, an anger that Donald Trump exploited in his election campaign.

The same pattern can be seen to varying degrees in developed countries such as Germany, Japan and South Korea. The countries' multinational companies have worked hard to keep China in place, but their enthusiasm has not slackened to citizenship.

Beijing's approach, it can be argued, has worked better in Southeast Asia and in the many developing countries neglected by the West but embraced by China. The Xis Belt and Road Initiative stands out in this context, with economic diplomacy providing political benefits.

In the short term, the Beijing State Party seems to have few tools to combat popular disillusionment and re-engage with people in places like Hong Kong and Taiwan, let alone Western democratic nations.

China has spent tens of millions of dollars on instruments of so-called soft power to gain its eyesight in recent years, especially to establish multilingual TV news channels under the brand of China Global Television Network (CGTN).

However, in times of crisis, every facade of straight news reporting goes out the window, with CGTN, and more traditional state media such as Xinhua, harnessing raw propaganda and attacks on Beijing's experienced enemies.

With the back against the wall, Beijing's tactics have now come full circle. Not only do they target the protesters in Hong Kong, but also the elites are punished if the staff strays from the party line.

Cathay Pacific's Rupert Hogg, pictured in July 2018, resigned from August 16, saying he "must take responsibility" for how the airline has managed its current crisis.

© Getty Images

Cathay Pacific CEO Rupert Hogg was forced by Beijing to resign in mid-August after a number of his staff publicly supported the Hong Kong protest movement.

Managers of any company, local or foreign, based in Hong Kong, know that the same can happen to them if they cross Beijing. As a result, fewer are likely to base themselves, instead of traveling to Singapore and elsewhere.

Unless it wants to fully hollow out a valuable financial center, China quickly needs a new strategy.

Richard McGregor is a senior fellow at the Lowy Institute, a think tank, in Sydney. His latest book is "Xi Jinping: The Backlash," published by Penguin Australia.