Chapter 14: A Sniper in the Bell Tower Although it seemed, at the time, merely a logical extension of the work of ISD, the creation of public relations units within various other departments marked a significant development with profound implications for the government's overall information policy. For as the years went by, ISD would find individual departmental heads exerting greater independence and control of their own public relations output.
The 'diaspora' was linked to the growth of political maturity in the community, and to the more critical role played by the media. David Ford, as DIS, had publicly stated that, because of the limitations on democratic development, the press had to serve as the 'opposition' in Hong Kong.
The creation of departmental public relations units also coincided with a major review of government's information policy in the early '70s, which in turn arose from a group of management consultants' recommendations to strengthen and reinforce the overall structure of the administration.
The Central Government Offices acquired their first Secretariat Press Officer in 1972, accompanying Jack Cater in the newly-established post of Information Secretary. Cater was already familiar with ISD's operations as a result of overseeing the government's response to the 1967 disturbances. The following year responsibility for information policy was absorbed within his wider ambit as the first Secretary for Home Affairs. In late 1973 he was succeeded by Denis Bray. David Ford moved from ISD to become Bray's Deputy Secretary for Information, later becoming Secretary for Information and eventually Chief Secretary, the last Briton to fill the post.
Other departmental information units were set up in the Police, and in Labour, Social Welfare and Resettlement Departments. The momentum was accelerating so fast that by the end of 1972 there were a further five in operation.
At first the move met with resistance from certain department heads. They resented having to find space to accommodate personnel seconded from ISD, and resented even more the idea that they were in need of advice on how to handle their public relations. Even when they grudgingly acquiesced to such 'infiltration', the information officers seconded to them were given little or no familiarisation, or indeed encouragement to discover where their services might be required.
While some seconded staff found their new assignments heavy going, others quickly established an almost unhealthy relationship with their hosts, and saw fit to declare virtual autonomy from ISD, much to the alarm and chagrin of the latter's directorate.
Notable early 'rebels' were Barry Walsh, in Labour Department, Drew Rennie in the Police and Alberto Da Cruz, in Medical and Health, who set an independent tone that would be followed by one or two successors, including Chris Wong.
Inevitably, of course, there was always a danger of divided loyalties arising from such postings. Working side by side with the professional staff to whom they had been attached, ISD's 'outriders' were like scouting parties sent far afield from the main body of their troops. They had to learn to speak a different language, accommodate to new ways and, not surprisingly, to view public relations problems from a different perspective.
The best of them displayed precisely the kind of initiative they were expected to display, and clung to their standpoint even if it put them at odds with headquarters back in ISD. It was a learning experience, both for them and - more especially - for their superiors in the information grade. How much free rein should you allow the hounds in pursuit of the quarry, particularly if the quarry was something they could scent better than you could?
Irene Yau, one of the earliest to head a departmental unit, describes the experience as almost schizophrenic. "Not only are you torn between your department head and your boss back in GIS, but you are also torn between the government and the media.
"The media find it difficult to trust us because they think of us as civil servants, and civil servants ask 'Which side are you on? The media's or ours?' If you defend the media to your fellow civil servants you're suspected of aiding and abetting them. What too many of them fail to realise is that we're actually there to help them."
Once she became DIS herself, Irene found it surprising how often civil servants would cling to the mistaken belief that GIS still exercised responsibility for the by then long independent Radio Television Hong Kong.
"I was frequently challenged by quite senior officials, who should have known better, to explain what I intended to do about RTHK. My response was I was the same rank as the Director of Broadcasting, over whom I had absolutely no control," she said.
By 1976 the number of departmental units had grown to 15, the latest - and for a long time the smallest - being in the Civil Aviation Department. Whereas 'our man at Kai Tak' had at least one genuine hijacking to deal with, most departmental units were left to cope with crises that spared them any risk to life and limb. Sensing that too much reality would blunt their taste for adventure, government decided, every now and then, to stage an imaginary security exercise that would prod civil servants out of their seats and on to their toes.
Even though ISD was consulted on the preparation of the scenarios for these exercises, and expected to loan its personnel to staff imaginary 'news media', information was the last priority in the minds of those senior government personnel who responded to the often highly improbable circumstances devised by the authors of these exercises.
Frequently the pace of events was so unrealistically exaggerated that the 'media' were asking questions regarding events that had not been notified to the operations centres. Police Commissioner Roy Henry, for example, was left flatly denying, at a simulated press conference, that any hostages had been taken from a fictional consular office, even when shown photographs of 'deceased hostages' left to hang from the consulate balcony.
On another occasion ISD personnel, about to come off duty from a harrowing session in the subterranean recesses of Central Government Offices, were denied permission to leave the premises on the grounds that a sniper was posted in the bell tower of St John's Cathedral to cover the rear entrance. How he might have gained access to this sanctuary without killing the sexton and stealing the keys was a detail conveniently overlooked.
What about the front entrance? was the exasperated response. Before the exercise controllers could quickly vary the scenario, by posting a second sniper in the tree dominating the main quadrangle, the ISD contingent made its escape.
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