Space Is Conquered, Now For Time
The barren island disparaged by Lord Palmerston has long been buried under bristling towers. So have the sixty European-style houses and a few Chinese huts cited in Hong Kongs first annual report to the Colonial Office.
Then, in 1844, the concern was whether a town could be built on the abrupt precipices, deep ravines and the hills which assumed a greenish tinge after the monsoon season like a decayed Stilton cheese. Now there is no stopping the expansion, upward and outward, in a territory that has overcome the restriction of space and is confidently confronting the limit of time.
Such is the force of construction that it is turning back the waters of Victoria Harbour, shrinking the channel between the island and Kowloon, and churning its currents. Cranes stoop over the skyline, preparing the ground for an 85-storey tower, the tallest in the territory, and finishing at the shoreline site where Chris Patten will bid farewell as Hong Kongs last governor.
The colony has always lived on borrowed time. So its bursts of building are much more than just construction. Skyscrapers make a statement in any city, but in land-scarce Hong Kong their message is especially pointed as next Julys handover appears on the horizon.
In part, the latest wave of building is the boldest gamble by the territorys real estate tycoons. Their still rising towers are profound commercial statements. Not for them the fears of a Communist landlord. We dont just say we are confident. We are putting hard cash on the table, says Henry Cheng of New World Development.
Cheng and the top property magnates plan to invest HK $630 billion (*51 billion) by 2000, according to Lo Kanshui, chairman of Great Eagle, the property company. That is enough to buy six dozen Rockefeller Centres or a flock of Canary Wharves. They shrug aside political risks. Some will tell you how their smartest investments were made in the wake of June 1989, when Beijing moved against its students. But behind the bamboo scaffolds which cling to the emerging structures, there are signs of territorial change.
Although Britain does not return its last colony until July, mainland interests are already taking it back, bit by bit, through the property market.
The glass shard that houses the Bank of China, designed in semi-traditional form by the Chinese American architect I M Pei, soars above the Hong Kong bank of Britains Norman Foster. The sharp angles of the Chinese bank are an arrow in the heart of the city or a pointer to prosperity, depending on your view. Down on the waterfront, the Jardines group one of the territorys founding Hongs has seen its shoreline stronghold breached as two of the biggest local Chinese developers claw back land from the sea for their grandiose scheme. The panoramic view in Hong Kong has always been vulnerable to the shadow of the next grand design.
Next, to where Chris Patten will set sail for Britain, and alongside the future Peoples Liberation Army headquarters, Citic Pacific, the local arm of Beijings flagship investment company, is building a tower block. More will put their names in lights. A lot of mainland groups will position themselves before and after July 1997, says David Faulkner at Brooke Hillier Parker. They believe it is important to be seen here.
Where to be seen remains pretty much the same downtown and the harbour front for businesses, the Peak for their bosses. Who to be seen with is less constant. The taipans of the traditional Hongs are being elbowed aside by new establishment figures, such as Larry Yung. The Citic Pacific chairman and son of Chinas vice president has impeccable connections, a respected business acumen, and a knack with Hong Kongs horses.
Li Ka-shing, who started in plastic flowers and now stands atop the territorys business world, has been developing his own construction connections. He is building a headquarters for the Chinese foreign ministry at a knock-down price. It will stand on land once occupied by British civil servants and expatriate policeman a changing of the bureaucratic guard.
Idiosyncrasies are etched into the skyline. Or at least the flaunted face of the city centre, away from the compressed housing where most of Hong Kong lives. California has a post-modern image and Kuala Lumpur is developing a Moorish style, says Ho Chi-wing, associate professor at Hong Kong University. But here there is no pattern.
That is hardly to be expected in a city of entrepreneurs, who build their empires and their offices with scant attention to the place next door. Nor can a pattern be easily built on such transient foundations.
Few buildings last long in Hong Kong. They go up fast and old is 20 years. Among the few exceptions are the governors colonial home and the Legislative Council. After July next year, one will be gone and one will be scrapped the associations they leave behind are unlikely to entice new tenants.
In a bout of urban planning, a group of pro-Beijing politicians is proposing a cultural plaza a huge square down by the harbour with new buildings to house the territorys chief executive, legislature and the other institutions which will govern post-1997 Hong Kong.
The scheme will represent an important symbol for the Special Administrative Region for Hong Kong, says Raymond Wu, its champion. It is a bold project, which faces stiff resistance. For in re-casting Hong Kongs image, the square and its surrounds might emerge in Tiananmens mould.