The Chief Executive election in Macau, which saw top judge Sam Hou Fai emerge as the sole candidate—and now the elected Chief Executive as of yesterday—has been a point of contention for years. While it is true that an election took place, the circumstances surrounding it raise critical questions about the nature of democracy in the region. Was Sam truly “of the people,” or was he a candidate put forth by a system designed to maintain the new norm?
Needless to say, that’s a rhetorical question.
In Macau, the Chief Executive is not chosen through a process of universal suffrage. Instead, an Electoral College made up of 400 grand electors selects the Chief Executive. These electors are chosen by associations and sectors of civil society, many of which are aligned with business interests and pro-Beijing factions. Although the Basic Law of Macau technically allows any eligible citizen to run for office, the reality is that the system ensures only those who meet stringent requirements—such as demonstrated patriotism towards China—can advance as candidates.
According to Article 47 of the Basic Law of Macau, “The Chief Executive shall be a Chinese citizen of not less than 40 years of age who is a permanent resident of the Region and has ordinarily resided in Macau for a continuous period of not less than 20 years.”
Additionally, recent changes to local electoral laws require that the Chief Executive must be someone who “loves the country and Macau,” reflecting the political necessity for candidates to be seen as patriotic and aligned with central government policies. This is not unique to Macau but reflects the broader political structure of the region, where Beijing retains ultimate control over significant political appointments.
While Sam Hou Fai may have been the sole candidate in this election, there was nominal competition within the selection process. Various factions, including the kaifongs (neighborhood associations) and workers’ unions, participated in choosing the grand electors, and disputes did arise over who would represent these groups. However, even within these minor contests, the larger picture remains unchanged: the system ensures loyalty to the central government, leaving little room for a genuine people’s choice.
To his credit, Sam Hou Fai made a concerted effort to present himself as a legitimate candidate, campaigning as if he were running against real competition, despite being the only name on the ballot.
For 20 years, Sam, 62, was a quiet force within Macau’s society, serving as President of the Court of Final Appeal. His legal background provided him with a unique perspective, as he presided over cases that reflected the changing dynamics of the city. Through his rulings—some controversial—Sam had a front-row seat to the many social and legal issues that have emerged in Macau in recent years.
The main criticism has been his lack of executive experience, to which he responded with a fine-tuned campaign showcasing his leadership ability and management skills. I also appreciated his candid criticism of the previous administration, while recognizing their merits.
One notable aspect of Sam’s profile is his ability to speak Portuguese, making him the first Chief Executive to be proficient in both of Macau’s official languages. This is significant in a region where the Portuguese legacy still plays an important cultural and legal role. His language skills could be seen as a nod to the multicultural history of the city, but they do little to conceal the deeper issues at play.
The propaganda machine framed Sam’s candidacy as a serious endeavor, despite the fact that he faced no real opposition. While he may have presented himself as running against headwinds, it’s hard to ignore the reality that the wind was always blowing in his favor.
As a democrat, I firmly believe that Macau is ready for universal suffrage, both for its Chief Executive and for its Legislative Assembly members. The current system, where only a select group of grand electors have a say in choosing the Chief Executive, is simply not representative of the will of the people. In a conversation I once had with a constitutional scholar, he agreed that Macau’s political system is ripe for reform, echoing the calls for greater democratic participation.
However, this was an election, with “Macau characteristics”—by some people, for some people. Those “some” now lead the future of the city, and Sam is the face of that leadership.
Sam Hou Fai was elected by representative bodies of society, chosen by tens of thousands in a potential universe of half a million residents; hence, he was not elected by all the people. If Macau is to embrace its full potential as a vibrant, diverse, and autonomous region, it should move toward a political system where universal suffrage is the norm, not the exception.
From now on, it will be important to see whether Sam fulfills his promises to govern for all, particularly for the less fortunate in this city of fortune, and whether he truly promotes transparency, administrative reform, and equity.
Sam of the people or some of the people? That is the question, and that is the challenge.
