20年前，我剛畢業便飛到香港開始我的第一份工作。時值香港主權移交幾個月，我在香港過了快樂的五年，從1997年起當記者，直至2002年。我從來沒想過，20年之後，我會被拒入境香港。
過去三年，我越來越關注香港的自由、法治被侵蝕，以及「一國兩制」面臨威脅的情況。正因如此，我也越來越多機會參與為香港發聲。我很榮幸曾在倫敦接待過黃之鋒、羅冠聰與陳方安生，又與李柱銘緊密合作。他們都是英雄，也是我的朋友。我想這是合適時機再訪香港，只是簡單地見見人、多聽多了解現況。過去15年我曾多次到香港，但近幾年則沒有回來。
此行原本希望與人們私下見面。我已謹慎地查詢過，有否可能探望正在監獄服刑的黃之鋒、羅冠聰與周永康，可惜約在一星期前我發現這是不可能的事。很不幸，即使只是查詢，亦已引起中國當局的注意。
上星期五已經初露端倪，我接到一通來自英國國會議員的電話。我跟他頗熟悉，也非常尊敬他。他告訴我他接到了中國駐倫敦大使館的電話，對方對我此行冀探望三名學生領袖的行徑表達關注，更表明此舉會「嚴重威脅中英關係」。我請他向中國大使館重申，我不會嘗試到訪任何監獄。
我選擇妥協，即使或許有人會認為這是做得過火，但我亦只希望為事情降溫，我自願向中國當局保證，不會在香港有任何公開活動或接受媒體訪問。我更提出在回程後與中國大使會面，進行建設性的討論，聽取他們的看法。不過這些提議換來的只有拒絕，還有更進一步的威脅，告誡我將會被拒絕入境香港。
看來還有另一因素。我是保守黨人權委員會副主席，這是公餘的義務職務，我亦在保守黨候選人名單之列。似乎中國當局誤會了我的境況，一開始認為我是國會議員、政黨高層或是政府官員，由此引伸出我今次香港之行，是代表政黨。這是可以諒解的，因為他們或許不理解英國政黨乃是由個人、獨立思想組成的，而且義務黨員與正式黨員亦有區別，代表黨行事與私下行事亦不相同。我試圖通過第三方向大使館保證，我絕對不會代表黨，更不會代表政府，強調此行純屬私人性質，以普通公民身份，私下與新知舊友在香港見面。
不幸的是，這也無法滿足中國當局。
與他人商量過後，我認為如果我陷入來自大使館經第三方傳達非正式的文字訊息的壓力，我就會一如平日批評他人一樣做同一件事：向中國叩頭。我的良心不允許我這麼做。如果我在第一道關卡就退縮，還怎麼面對黃之鋒、羅冠聰、周永康、李柱銘、陳方安生等人呢？所以我決定按原定行程嘗試入境，當作測試。或許他們只是在虛張聲勢說不讓我入境，希望我息事寧人而作罷。又或許他們是認真的，他們就要公開、正式拒絕我入境，向世界展示「一國兩制」被侵蝕的另一事例。
很遺憾，後一種情況最終發生了。抵港之後我步向關口，向入境處人員出示護照。入境處人員將我的名字輸入電腦，顯然電腦說了「不可以」。她（入境處人員）向上級請示，並帶我到櫃枱後的房間叫我等候。過了不久，一個穿着便服的官員和我見面，我向她保證今次行程屬私人性質，私下見見朋友，又提到我曾經在香港生活過五年。她查看我的酒店預訂，我還在想或許她們會放行。但是，一會兒後她正式告知我被拒絕入境，將把我送上返回曼谷的航班，亦即今次航程的出發地。
我必須強調，我對拒絕我入境、一直「看顧」我的入境處人員絕無責怪之意。他們只是執行他們的職務，而且他們盡可能友善和禮貌地待我，他們給我水，又向我微笑。的確，我的印象是他們並不想這樣做（拒絕我入境），他們只是在執行上頭的指示，他們控制不了。
我在等待上機時，轉向身旁的入境處人員微笑，感謝他對我照顧有加。我問：「一國兩制是否已死？一國一制，對吧？」他眼泛淚光，懇切地說：「先生，我只是在履行職務，我不能評論。謝謝你的合作。」我向他說我知道，我不會怪他。
稍後，我們在上機前握了手，我對他說：「對香港來說，這是非常悲哀的一天。對我來說也悲哀，我無法探望在香港的朋友，但對香港而言特別悲哀，拒絕一個沒有犯罪的公民入境。」他點頭，再次眼泛淚光，「我明白。這很悲哀。」我臨上機前向他說最後一句話：「希望事情會變得更好。」
「一國兩制」的原意理應為「港人治港」。但很明顯，今次拒絕我入境的決定並非來自香港，而是來自中國當局。「一國兩制」的原意理應為法治，惟即使何俊仁律師坐列車趕來機場，希望看看有甚麼能幫得上忙，最終也未能成事，因為在那之前我已被帶上飛機。「一國兩制」的原意理應為表達自由、結社自由，這是香港的基本權利，惟儘管我保證不會參與任何公開活動，只有私人性質會面，但我自己的表達自由，以及我希望能會面的人的表達和結社自由，都已經被剝奪了。
我倒沒關係，香港才是重點。從今次嚴峻的、個人的、悲痛的親身經歷可知，即使「一國兩制」仍然未死去，亦已行將消亡殆盡，而且正在加快。世界各國必須醒覺，尤其作為《中英聯合聲明》簽署方的英國。我對中英關係不會構成任何威脅，但我相信中國當局的舉動，尤其是在香港的行徑，反而會（構成威脅）。
（編者註： Benedict Rogers周三入境香港被拒後，以英文撰述經過及感受。此中文版為本報所譯，標題為編者所加，原文如下。）
Twenty years ago, as a fresh graduate, I flew to Hong Kong just a few months after the handover, to begin my first job. I spent five very happy years working as a journalist in Hong Kong, from1997-2002. I never expected that twenty years later, I would be refused entry to Hong Kong.
In the past three years I have become increasingly concerned about the erosion of Hong Kong's freedoms and the rule of law, and the threats to“one country, two systems”. As a result, I have been increasingly engaged in advocacy for Hong Kong. I have had the privilege of hosting, in London, Joshua Wong, Nathan Law and Anson Chan, and of working closely with Martin Lee– all heroes and friends of mine. I decided it was time for me visit Hong Kong again, simply to meet people and to listen and learn about the current situation. I had visited Hong Kong several times over the past fifteen years, but had not been back for a few years.
My intention was to meet people privately. I had made discrete enquiries about whether or not it would be possible or desirable to visit Joshua Wong, Nathan Law or Alex Chow in prison, but I had realized a week or more ago that it would not be possible. Unfortunately, even enquiring about the possibility drew the attention of the Chinese authorities.
The first indication I had that there was a problem came last Friday, when I received a telephone call from a British Member of Parliament whom I know well and respect greatly. He informed me he had received calls from the Chinese Embassy in London, expressing concern that an attempt to visit these three student leaders would pose“a grave threat to Sino-British relations”. I asked him to reassure the Chinese Embassy that I would not be attempting to visit any prisons.
I took a further step– a compromise, some might say one too big, but one intended to de-escalate the situation– by voluntarily assuring them that I would not undertake any public engagements or media interviews while in Hong Kong. I also offered to meet the embassy upon my return, for a constructive discussion and to hear their perspectives. These offers were rebuffed and I received further, increasingly threatening messages from the embassy, culminating in a message warning me that I would be denied entry.
It appears there was another factor too. I serve as Deputy Chair of the Conservative Party Human Rights Commission, a voluntary role in my spare time, and I am on the Conservative Party's Candidates List. It appears that the Chinese authorities misunderstood my status and thought at first that I was a Member of Parliament or a senior party or government official, and that my visit to Hong Kong would be in an official capacity on behalf of the party. I suppose one could forgive them for that mistake, because in China a party member is a party member come what may. They perhaps don't understand that British political parties are made up of individual, independent minds– and furthermore there's a difference between a voluntary party member and a party official, and a difference between someone acting on behalf of the party and someone acting in a private, personal capacity. Nevertheless I sought to reassure the embassy, via a third party, that I was absolutely not representing the party, and certainly not the government, and that my visit was a purely personal, private visit to meet old friends and new acquaintances in Hong Kong, as a private citizen.
Unfortunately, that did not satisfy either.
In consultation with others, I took the view that if I were to cave in to pressure from the embassy, sent through unofficial text messages via a third party, I would be doing exactly what I have criticized others of doing: kowtowing to China. My conscience would not allow me to do that. How could I look my friends Joshua Wong, Nathan Law, Alex Chow, Martin Lee, Anson Chan and others in the eye if I caved at the first hurdle? I decided therefore that I had to put it to the test by going as planned to Hong Kong. Perhaps they were bluffing, threatening to deny me entry in the hope that I would go away quietly. Or, if they were serious, then they would have to refuse me entry formally and publicly, exposing to the world yet another example of the erosion of one country, two systems.
Very regrettably, the latter course was what occurred. I landed in Hong Kong, proceeded to immigration, and when my turn came I presented my passport and arrival card as normal. The immigration officer put my name into the computer, and evidently the computer said no. She called other officers over, they took me to a private room behind the counters, and I was asked to wait. After a little while a plain clothes official conducted an interview with me. I assured her that my visit was a private, personal visit to meet friends, and that I had lived in Hong Kong for five years. She took details of my hotel booking, and I thought perhaps they were about to allow me in. A little later, however, she informed me that the decision had been made to deny me entry, and put me back on the flight to Bangkok, which was where I had flown from.
It is important to emphasise that I do not in any way blame the immigration officers who“looked after” me during this time. They were just doing their job and, in the circumstances, they treated me as kindly and courteously as possible. Their manner was polite and friendly, they offered me water, they smiled. Indeed, I had the impression that they really did not want to be doing this, but that they were operating according to orders from above, beyond their control.
As I waited to board I turned gently to the officer standing with me. I smiled, and I thanked him for looking after me well.“Is one country, two systems dead now?”, I asked.“One country, one system, right?” He looked with a hint of tears in his eyes, pleadingly.“Sir please, I am just doing my job. I cannot comment. Thank you for your cooperation”. I reassured him that I knew he was only doing his job, and that I did not blame him.
A little later, as we shook hands at the entrance to the plane, I said to him:“This is a very sad day for Hong Kong. It’s sad for me, that I am unable to visit my friends in Hong Kong, but it’s particularly sad for Hong Kong, that a private citizen who has committed no crime is refused entry.” He nodded, again with a hint of tears.“I understand. It is sad,” he said. My final word to him was this:“I hope things will change for the better”.
“One country, two systems” is supposed to mean“Hong Kong people ruling Hong Kong”. Yet it is overwhelmingly clear that the decision to deny me entry to Hong Kong was not taken in Hong Kong, but by the Chinese regime.“One country, two systems” is supposed to mean the rule of law, yet a solicitor, Albert Ho, who very kindly took the train out to the airport in order to meet me and see if he could assist, was denied access to me because I was put back on the plane before he could reach me.“One country, two systems” is supposed to mean basic rights in Hong Kong– freedom of expression and association– yet despite assurances from me that I would not engage in any public events, and would simply be having private meetings, my own freedom of expression and more importantly the freedom of expression and association of those I had hoped to meet has been curtailed.
This is not about me. It is about Hong Kong. And it is clear from this very stark, personal, first-hand and painful experience that if “one country, two systems” is not yet completely dead, it is dying rapidly, being decapitated limb by limb with accelerating speed. The world, and especially the United Kingdom with its responsibilities under the Sino-British Joint Declaration, must wake up to this. I am no threat to Sino-British relations. But I believe the conduct of the Chinese regime, particularly in Hong Kong, is.
Benedict Rogers
英國保守黨人權委員會副主席
原文連結
from 港文集 http://hktext.blogspot.com/2017/10/benedict-rogers-1331.html