In the 60s and 70s corruption in Hong Kong was rife, and this could to some degree be explained by the history and development of the territory.
Hong Kong had always been a free port since the mid-nineteenth century, and gradually developed into an important regional entrepot. Chinese and overseas traders and entrepreneurs flocked in droves to take up residence and try their fortune.
In the 1950s the territory’s economy began to take off, and the speedy development of manufacturing over the next two decades brought with it a rapid growth in population. The Government managed to maintain social order and stability by delivering essential housing and other necessary public services, but in many cases the demand for social resources far exceeded the supply. It was this factor, coupled with lax supervision, that turned Hong Kong into a fertile place for corruption.
Corrupt officials, major, minor and petty, took advantage of their positions to demand favours and advantages. In those bad old days, people got what they wanted or needed done quickly by using the back door route. For example, paying what was euphemistically called “tea money” could help you jump the application queue for a public housing unit. Firemen attending an incident were often known to solicit “water money” before they would turn on their hoses. Perhaps most shocking of all was that corruption had penetrated the police force, which riddled with systemic corruption that was often syndicated in nature.
On 8 June 1973, a Chief Superintendent of Police named Peter Godber contrived to bypass tight security and sneak surreptitiously out of Hong Kong, thereby not only temporarily evading the law for bribery offences but also taking with him more than $4 million of ill-gotten assets. His escape and his alleged crimes prompted intense fury and resentment. People took to the streets to demand that the Government not only bring Godber back to Hong Kong for trial but also take firm steps to stop corruption in its tracks. The Government acted promptly, setting up the Independent Commission Against Corruption (ICAC) in 1974. The public was most keen to see how the ICAC would turn the tables on corruption and show clearly that justice would triumph.
The Government had in fact passed a Prevention of Corruption Ordinance as early as 1948, and four years later, it set up the Anti-Corruption Branch of the police force. Corruption had however become so deep-rooted as Hong Kong approached the 1970s that the public was increasingly vocal. To strengthen the hand of the Anti-Corruption Branch, the Prevention of Corruption Ordinance was amended and was recast as the Prevention of Bribery Ordinance in 1971.
Although the Anti-Corruption Branch was expanded and renamed the Anti-Corruption Office, it remained under the police, and the desired reforms were yet to take hold.
The territory was then divided into three main police regions: Hong Kong Island, Kowloon and the New Territories. Each region had its own chief detective sergeant, and under him were detective sergeants responsible for criminal investigations and were invariably Chinese. This was largely because many high ranking expatriate officers could not speak Chinese. They therefore had to rely on their Chinese detective sergeants when carrying out investigations. This core group of detective sergeants also served as a bridge between non-English speaking citizens and expatriate police officers. Despite their lowly rank, they wielded enormous influence.
When the ICAC was set up, its most urgent task was clearly to combat police corruption. A series of ICAC investigations that followed had led to the demise of a number of corruption syndicates within the force. Many of the detective sergeants who had accumulated wealth by corrupt means, when sensing that an investigation was in the wind, would typically either leave the police force early or flee overseas. Since his early retirement from the force in 1969, the detective sergeant (DS in short) in question had been leading a very comfortable life. He was, however, prosecuted by the ICAC in 1978 on charges of possessing pecuniary resources which were disproportionate to his official emoluments.
The case attracted wide attention because DS was twice required by the court to post bail amounting to more than $10 million in cash and sureties. Such an unprecedented sum underlined the seriousness of the case.
Upon conviction, he was sentenced to two years in jail. An order was made for his assets, which amounted to $16 million, to be confiscated. Once again, the community was in awe, for it was revealed that his police job had earned him only about $228,000 over the years.