Remembering ‘831’ when police stormed Hong Kong’s metro system
Six years on, it is our obligation, our duty to the victims, to hold the perpetrators to account
On Aug. 31, 2019, Hong Kong’s metro — known as the Mass Transit Railway (MTR) — became the Mass Terror Railway, as Hong Kong took another dark step in its transition towards a brutal, repressive police state.
Six years on, not a single police officer has been held accountable for the brutality perpetrated that day.
Picture the scene: You are on the metro after an evening out with your family. You have been out for dinner. Perhaps you have gone to see a movie with your partner. Perhaps you have taken your kids to see a sports match.
Suddenly, armed thugs with batons burst into the train, beating passengers indiscriminately.
Everyone is screaming. People are bloodied and terrified.
The train does not move, the doors keep opening, teargas pours in, and the attackers keep coming.
Yet the assailants are not thugs or terrorists.
They are police officers.
And they have lost all concept of law and order, the rule of law, or professional policing.
The police were not alone in attacking the passengers: they were joined by pro-government thugs, some armed with hammers and box-cutters.
The police completely lost the idea that it is their responsibility to protect the public from violent disorder, to keep the peace, and to defend basic freedoms.
Instead, they have become the perpetrators of disorder, working hand-in-hand with violent thugs.
They have, it seems, lost their minds.
Hong Kongers do not have to imagine the scene, for that is precisely what happened that day, when police attacked passengers at Prince Edward metro station.
That attack was not the only instance of indiscriminate and completely disproportionate police brutality in Hong Kong in 2019, but it was certainly one of the most totemic.
The apparent reason for the violent attack was a flash democracy protest that had been organized at the station, and some of the protesters had fled into the MTR.
Hong Kong’s “831” was not on the same scale as New York’s “9/11” nor London’s “7/7,” but it will be similarly remembered for the trauma it caused.
All the more so because the attackers were not jihadi bombers, but local police officers.
Watching the footage of the Prince Edward attack from London, I was in shock.
For the five years that I lived in Hong Kong — the first five years after the handover, from 1997-2002 — I used to travel on the MTR many times a week and cherished it for its efficiency, cleanliness, safety, comfort, and timeliness. When I returned to London, I used to think that Transport for London could learn a thing or two from Hong Kong’s MTR.
Throughout my time living in Hong Kong, I never had much reason to interact with the Hong Kong Police Force. But I certainly never had cause to fear them. In my mind, they were much like the British police. Not perfect, and probably with some scandals of corruption or misconduct to expose, but overall decent, professional, and there to protect us.
On balance, I would have been inclined to think that although there may be a few bad apples, the majority were brave, public-spirited, and respectable. If I spotted an officer and needed to ask directions or advice, I would never have been afraid to approach them.
I never imagined that 17 years after I left the city, Hong Kong police would turn into unruly gangsters.
I am not able to go to Hong Kong today — having been denied entry in 2017, threatened with jail in 2022, and named multiple times as a collaborator with the democracy activist Jimmy Lai during his trial over the past two years (I will proudly confess to always standing with Jimmy Lai in defending democracy and human rights in Hong Kong).
But if I were in Hong Kong today, I would avoid speaking to a police officer at all costs. They seem all too ready to wield their baton and unleash their handcuffs and kick their boots, indiscriminately and without justification. The respect I might once have felt, 25 years ago, for Hong Kong’s police force has long since dissipated. They are no better than unaccountable, violent enforcers of state brutality today.
Indeed, one of the other tragedies of 2019 — the Yuen Long attack on July 21, known as “721” — will be recorded in the annals of history as one of the other pivotal moments of the 2019 movement.
That attack was perpetrated by members of criminal Triad gangs dressed in white, brutally assaulting pro-democracy activists at Yuen Long MTR station, permitted with impunity to attack unarmed, peaceful passers-by without penalty. The police did not respond to calls for help.
I am unsure what it is with Hong Kong’s public transport, but if I were still in Hong Kong — and of course, I can no longer visit — I would no longer feel safe. Hong Kong’s police force, the criminal Triads, and the Chinese Communist Party operate today in cahoots with each other. They are three pods of the same barbaric, bloody crime syndicate.
As we commemorate “831,” let us not only remember the horror and the fallen, but also be inspired by the courageous spirit of Hong Kongers who stood strong and tall against such barbarity in 2019, in 2014, and on so many other occasions.
Let us remember the many Hong Kongers who are in jail today for their belief in freedom — most prominent of all Jimmy Lai, the founder of the pro-democracy Apple Daily, but also barrister Chow Hang-tung, student activist Joshua Wong, academic Benny Tai, democratically-elected legislators and so many other brave democrats whose names may or may not be known to us and who may or may not wished to be named, but who all deserve to be free and not in jail.
Hard as it may be to believe, simply by writing these words, I am actually committing a crime under Hong Kong’s draconian National Security Law. I am in London, theoretically safe, though through China’s transnational repression, I am at risk even here, as the regime claims its security law applies transnationally and China has operated clandestine security outposts in the West to monitor and intimidate its critics.
I have received threats, though nothing nearly as serious as the threats many diaspora communities with relatives back in Hong Kong or China face. But I cannot stay silent, because I believe “831” and other anniversaries must be commemorated.
Watch the footage of “831” again. Imagine if you were on public transport heading home that night. Watch the thugs who wear police uniforms intrude upon innocent MTR passengers. Hear the crack of their batons and the cries and screams of ordinary passengers. Then you will get a glimpse of the ugly character of the regime that currently occupies China and Hong Kong today.
It is our obligation, our duty to the victims of “831,” to remember this tragic anniversary and work to hold the perpetrators to account and free China and free Hong Kong.
This article was published in UCA News on 29 August 2025.
Photo: Pakkin Leung, CC BY 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons