How Long

Ever since the armies of Communist China rolled up to the borders of Hong Kong last fall, an apprehensive British administration had wondered when the Reds would try to take Hong Kong itself.. Last week, the five-starred flag of Soviet China fluttered ominously in Hong Kong, but the Red army was still on the other side of the border'. How long they would stay there would depend in large measure on the wisdom Hong Kong's rulers displayed in the colony's latest labor crisis.

Christmas Present. On Christmas Eve, grinning conductors on Hong Kong's double-decker trolleys politely refused to accept fares. Said they suavely: "It's a Christmas present from the company." This was the trolleymen's way of warning their employers that they were deadly serious in their demand for a 50-c--a-day wage increase. The employers were deadly serious, too. After four days of free rides for the populace, during which penniless coolies sprawled delightedly about the upper decks (first class), the management sacked the conductors, halted service.

Next day the conductors showed up to picket the carbarn. Some wore flaming red armbands, others sported miniatures of the Communist flag that hung from the balcony of their union headquarters across the street. Inside headquarters, beneath a gigantic portrait of Communist Boss Mao Tse-tung, more than a score of Hong Kong labor leaders smoked, drank endless cups of green tea and offered their sympathy to the locked-out trolley employees. A headline in the pro-Communist Ta Rung Pao set the tone. It read: "Friendly Love Will Support the Tramway Workers." Outside, restless crowds chanted a Communist song to the tune of "John Brown's Body."

Pleased Communists. Dissatisfaction in the ranks of Hong Kong's labor force had been on the rise for months. The Nationalist defeat on the mainland had flooded Hong Kong with thousands of refugees. Many upper-class Chinese brought plenty of money--and inflation--with them. Prices quickly outran the wages paid by Hong Kong's employers. Said Trolley Conductor Kwan Ping, who supports his family of five on less than $30 a month: "My wages cover only rent for my one room and the very cheapest food. I have nothing for clothing or emergency expenses." Other conductors agreed. Said one: "We have no other intention except to fill our stomachs. Why raise trouble if we could live on our income? . . ." The conservative South China Morning Post editorialized: ". . . their ultimatum has more economic basis than political: it will be agreed that some of them are underpaid . . ."

Meanwhile, Hong Kong's other utility unions--telephone, light, power and gas--restively awaited the outcome of their own demands for wage increases. "We must give moral support to the tramway workers," said one union boss. "If they fail we are bound to collapse. Our strike is not political; we have wives and children to care for." At week's end, Hong Kong's colonial government announced that it had assumed sweeping emergency powers, including the right to requisition manpower, bar strikes and lockouts. This may have pleased Hong Kong's employers, but the chances were that it pleased the Communists on the other side of the border even more.

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