The catastrophic fire at Hong Kong’s Wang Fuk Court housing complex last week has been widely discussed on mainland social media. Many commenters mourned the dead as their number climbed past 100, then 150. Some of these messages appeared on the “Wailing Wall” that still survives in the replies to COVID whistleblower Li Wenliang’s final Weibo post. Others praised the relative openness they perceived in Hong Kong’s response to the disaster, in comparison with the typically heavy-handed management of such “sudden incidents” elsewhere in China. Others yet lamented that this openness is largely now a thing of the past. From commentary by CDT Chinese editors in their weekly recap:
One Weibo user lamented, “After the Hong Kong fire, everyone from experts, committee members, and journalists to the most ordinary members of the public could publicly and candidly voice their anger, grief, criticism, and demands for accountability. This is what a normal public sphere that permits expression and investigation looks like. By comparison, with the Kunming train accident that killed 11 railway workers, the public statement ended with ‘safeguard the safety and stability of railway transportation,’ and there was no mourning to be seen on social media.”
Of course, this comparison may be largely wishful thinking. According to news reports, Wang Fuk Court residents had notified the authorities of construction materials falling short of fire safety standards as far back as September last year, but their complaints and suggestions weren’t taken seriously. Public documents show that [in 2007], Cao Deguang, a former shareholder of Hong Yip Construction Ltd., the company responsible for the work, was sentenced to 18 months in prison for bribing a public housing official. Investigations into procurement corruption and issues with building materials are still underway, and we have yet to see their conclusions. But what evidence we do have clearly shows that far from being a single accident, the fire was a man-made disaster fueled by a combination of factors such as flawed decision-making, lack of supervision, and inadequate fire prevention systems. What’s more ironic is the arrest of a young Hong Konger for issuing “Four Demands”—subsidized accommodation for survivors, an independent investigation, a review of supervisory mechanisms, and punishment of officials found responsible. On the very day of his arrest, the Office for Safeguarding National Security [the Chinese central government’s national security office in Hong Kong] issued a statement saying it “firmly supported the Hong Kong SAR in punishing destabilizing and anti-China elements for exploiting the fire to disrupt the city.” How is this any less than the total “mainlandization” of Hong Kong? [Chinese]
The Wall Street Journal’s Jason Chau similarly described the official response as “a display of how the once-freewheeling city of Hong Kong has been brought to heel by strict national-security laws and Beijing’s growing control.” A statement from Amnesty International on Monday urged, “Now is the time for the Hong Kong authorities to transparently investigate the causes of the devastating fire in Tai Po, rather than silencing those who ask legitimate questions. Even as we mourn, we cannot ignore the need to bring justice to the affected families as well as to prevent as much as possible the reoccurrence of similar tragedies.”
The arrests in Hong Kong right now are déjà vu for mainlanders like me who were active in civil society in the 2000s: citizens demanding investigations and accountability after public disasters are met not with answers, but arrests and intimidation. #mainlandization #香港加速内地化
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— Yaqiu Wang 王亚秋 (@yaqiu.bsky.social) November 29, 2025 at 8:44 PM
A WeChat post by author Gu Yi emphasized the need for reflection in the wake of disasters like the Wang Fuk Court fire, and praised Hong Kong authorities for their transparency and apparently proactive response. (The number of arrests has now increased to 13 over the fire itself, and three more over calls for accountability.)
From the start, the fire dominated social media. The first I saw of it was Phoenix’s report, then many other media outlets and users added their own coverage. Even from afar, people were watching, scrutinizing, and mourning the disaster, and naturally reflecting on what went wrong. All of these, of course, are just normal human reactions.
We saw images of those apartment towers engulfed in flames, we saw the billowing smoke and the endlessly tumbling flames; the tearful interviews with those who had escaped, the residents anxiously waiting for news of their loved ones, and the other citizens stopping, watching, and praying.
It was almost like a live broadcast playing out in front of us all.
When major accidents like this have happened in the past, we’ve always heard this kind of sentiment: “Now is the time for all-out rescue efforts. Please don’t analyze causes, assign blame, or speculate about the disaster.” Those who did these things were accused of hindering the response, or harboring ulterior motives. Afterwards, with the rescue complete and everything over and done with, it’s often very easy for us to forget.
This time, we saw all of this unfolding naturally and in real time.
The ongoing rescue operation didn’t impede the arrests of three people for manslaughter, or the local government’s constant disclosure of possible causes. For example, it was discovered that safety nets, waterproof tarps, and plastic sheeting on the buildings’ exterior walls may not have met fire safety standards; that expanded polystyrene may have accelerated the fire’s spread; that residents had seen construction workers smoking; and so on.
[…] When people have seen what happened, it’s natural for them to ask why, then pull together insights from various experts and pool their wisdom and efforts until they reach a practical solution for changing or improving the status quo. This is how we progress.
Any large and lethal fire calls for serious reflection. The worse the disaster, the deeper the lessons, and the more comprehensive and penetrating our thought process ought to be. [Chinese]
Relatively favorable views from mainlanders of Hong Kong authorities’ response may in part be a product of timing, coming relatively soon after the fire, and of limited access to news of subsequent developments. But they also recall a recent comment from the WeChat account Huanhuaxi Du Fu (an account that has since been banned), on the controversy over Taiwanese singer Zheng Zhihua’s treatment by staff at Shenzhen Airport: “As someone accustomed to eating fine grain, he naturally found our coarser bran hard to swallow. Whereas Chinese netizens, accustomed to even less edible fare, think they’ve got it pretty good when they get a bite or two of coarse bran. This is the gap in understanding caused by two different groups of people operating under two very different frames of reference.”
Prolific commentator Xiang Dongliang, however, framing Hong Kong as a city whose buildings and people alike are rapidly aging, argued that if Hong Kong had retained its traditional institutional vitality, the disaster might never have occurred:
Highly developed social organizations like Hong Kong’s world-leading volunteer teams were once at the core of the city’s competitiveness and cultural charm, making it resilient in times of adversity.
Previously, its clean and efficient system of governance, exemplified by the Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC), together with what was then an independent judiciary, not only created Hong Kong’s excellent business environment but was also able to help the city overcome a great many difficulties in the course of the aging process.
Where was the ICAC during the year of construction work that preceded the fire?
In the past, Hong Kong’s highly developed and fiercely competitive news media would constantly dig up and expose societal problems, supervising the actions of the SAR government. Operations in clear violation of regulations, such as the Wang Fuk Court renovation project, would have been unlikely to escape media scrutiny, and the catastrophe might have been averted.
Unfortunately, there aren’t so many “what ifs” in this world, nor can we remedy current problems with terms like “once,” “previously,” or “in the past.” The past is past, and what’s lost is hard to recover. [Chinese]
Also on WeChat, blogger Mu Bai highlighted how some nationalist commenters had drawn false connections between the Hong Kong fire and the currently heightened tensions with Japan over Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi’s recent comments about defending Taiwan:
[…] Beyond grief, the only value in any disaster is in uncovering the causes of that disaster.
Because a disaster can happen today in Hong Kong, and somewhere else tomorrow. Perhaps the problem is scaffolding; perhaps it’s inattention to detail during testing of a high-speed rail line that led to the split-second loss of 11 lives, as also happened today. [The incident near Kunming was a reference point for other commentary as well.]
But take a look online in the wake of these calamities, and what are some people talking about?
Under posts on the Hong Kong fire, there are countless comments claiming, “the Japanese did it,” “this was Japanese handiwork,” “Japanese spies were behind it,” and so on.
I’m not speaking for the Japanese here. All I want to say is that these kinds of comments and viewpoints, thoughtlessly spewed online, are yet another form of injury to the dead, muddying the waters and distracting from the root causes of the disaster.
[…] I saw a piece online saying that the brainless don’t deserve to call themselves “patriots.” In light of the comments above, I wholeheartedly concur. [Chinese]
Many posts refer heavily to the use of bamboo scaffolding, largely accepting the framing that it bears part of the blame for the fire, and portraying its continued use in Hong Kong—sometimes disparagingly referred to as a “fishing village”—as emblematic of how the mainland has “overtaken” its once more advanced sibling. A deleted post by “Uncle Da,” for example, blames bamboo’s persistence on complacency and vested interests, while also arguing that the mainland’s transition to steel scaffolding was driven by profit rather than any more high-minded principles. The role of bamboo has been fiercely disputed by many Hong Kongers, and official statements now suggest that plastic netting and foam boards over windows were what actually accelerated the blaze. On Bluesky, journalist Wing Kuang argued that bamboo scaffolding is not being defended purely as a cultural symbol distinguishing Hong Kong from the mainland, but because of concern that it was being scapegoated by authorities to distract from deeper causes. Bloomberg and the Financial Times both cited local architects defending the material’s continued use.
Meanwhile, a WeChat post by “Writes Hard on Thursdays” warned that mainlanders can ill afford complacency, noting that Hong Kong building standards are considerably higher in other respects, such as the minimum density of steel rebar in reinforced concrete. The fact that a large 42-year-old housing complex nevertheless needed such extensive and expensive maintenance work is an alarming prospect for those buying into mainland developments. The piece concludes with a warning that, in most cases, mainland Chinese should avoid buying high-rise apartments—especially ones above the 15-floor reach of most fire trucks.
That post remains online, but another examining the causes of the fire and warning of the hidden dangers of aging high-rises was deleted. Another deleted post compared the Hong Kong disaster with another high-rise fire in Shanghai in 2010. Highlighting such precedents can imply broader patterns, systemic failures, and lessons unlearned, and orders against “sensationalist connections with past events” are often seen in leaked media directives. Another deleted post focused on the economic struggles of many of the buildings’ residents, compounded by the renovation work itself, which had left them spending months in cramped, darkened, stuffy homes.
Hong Kong Free Press has published a guide for those wishing to support those affected by the fire, and is also seeking support for its own work.
