Hong Kong’s Independent Bookshops, a Lifeline for Mainland Readers, Are Closing Under Security Law Pressure

Hong Kong’s Independent Bookshops, a Lifeline for Mainland Readers, Are Closing Under Security Law Pressure For Chen Zhu, a 23-year-old from Guangzhou, the monthly trip to Hong Kong is a ritual. Her destination is not a tourist landmark but Hunter Bookstore, a cramped independent shop in the Sham Shui Po district, sandwiched between fabric sellers and garages. It is a place where she can find books that are impossible to obtain on the mainland—accounts of Hong Kong’s pro-democracy movement, George Orwell’s Animal Farm, or the manga Attack on Titan. "I was devastated," she said, breaking into tears when she learned the shop had been raided by police in late June. Her story is emblematic of a broader, accelerating trend: the independent bookshops of Hong Kong, which once served as a literary lifeline for mainland Chinese readers seeking forbidden knowledge, are closing their doors one by one under the weight of the National Security Law (NSL) and a series of aggressive police operations.

The Boom and the Bust: A Timeline of Raids and Closures

The recent wave of enforcement has been swift and targeted. On 24 June, police searched Hunter Bookstore, arresting its owner, 33-year-old Letitia Wong, and a 32-year-old man on charges of sedition and money laundering. Both deny the allegations and have been released on bail. In March, the owner of Book Punch and three employees were arrested on the same charges, with authorities reportedly seizing copies of a biography of Jimmy Lai, the jailed democracy campaigner. The pressure intensified on 15 July, the opening day of the annual Hong Kong Book Fair, when national security police raided two more shops—Greenfield Bookstore and Have a Nice Stay—arresting five people for sedition. They too have been released on bail. The operational tempo has had a chilling effect on the sector’s viability. At the end of July, Greenfield, which had operated for 50 years, announced it would close after its lease expired, becoming the third independent bookshop to shut within a month. A week after being excluded from the Book Fair, Elmbook said it would close its physical shop in April next year. Have a Nice Stay followed, announcing it would shut at the end of August, citing economic difficulties and the unpredictable "red lines" governing what material is considered problematic. The closures represent not just a commercial loss but the dismantling of a cultural ecosystem that flourished after the 2019 protests.

Beyond Politics: The Quiet Appeal of a Freer Shelf

For many mainland visitors, these bookshops are not merely retail outlets; they are sanctuaries of intellectual possibility. Li, a 19-year-old from Shanghai who declined to give her full name, described them as places where she "can see so many possibilities, and where existing ideas can be challenged." The appeal is often found in small, human details. During a visit to Hunter Bookstore around the Lunar New Year, Li discovered a wall covered in black sticky notes, where visitors had left messages of solidarity for victims of a massive apartment blaze in Tai Po that claimed 168 lives. She noted that such public outpourings of sentiment are rare on the mainland, where "people can only express themselves indirectly." The shops also offer a tactile connection to literature that is increasingly rare. Li was struck by handwritten notes left by staff alongside books—reflections on what they had read or passages they found meaningful. For Chen Zhu, the journey to find The Unburned Book by Taiwanese poet Yang Du, a reflection on protesters who went into exile after 1989, was a personal quest. She had failed to find it in other stores before spotting it at Hunter. "We all love books. We all value independent bookshops. That's why we choose to buy books here," she said, describing the feeling of escaping to a place with "at least a little freedom of expression."

The Legal Framework: How the NSL Reshapes the Retail Landscape

The legal pressure on these businesses is rooted in the expansive provisions of the National Security Law, which Beijing defends as essential for stability. The charges of "sedition" and "money laundering" are broad, allowing authorities to target not just overt political activity but also the mere possession or sale of certain materials. The arrests are coming into force alongside a wider pattern of enforcement that has seen thousands of activists and former lawmakers leave the city. The law’s reach extends beyond the shops themselves; customs authorities on the mainland can confiscate books deemed harmful to national sovereignty, security, or unity, creating a climate of anxiety for returning readers. The ambiguity is a feature, not a bug, according to analysts. "The authorities don't want people to know exactly where the boundaries are," said Tong Kin-long of University College London. "They want people to work out the red lines for themselves, or to censor themselves before crossing them." This strategic vagueness forces booksellers and readers into a state of perpetual self-censorship, a dynamic that is being phased in across the retail sector. The result is a marketplace where the threat of prosecution is more potent than the prosecution itself, as shop owners must constantly guess which titles might cross an invisible line.

Targeting the Low-Profile: The Case of Luck Win and Elmbook

The crackdown has not been limited to shops with overt political profiles. A bookseller who asked not to be identified expressed bewilderment at the targeting of Luck Win Bookstore and Elmbook, which he described as having "always kept a very low profile." "They rarely make public statements or organise events. I genuinely can't think of anything they could have done to offend the government," he said. In the weeks before the Book Fair, both shops were criticised in Wen Wei Po, a newspaper controlled by Beijing’s liaison authorities in Hong Kong. The paper accused them of selling books promoting "soft resistance," including The Hong Kong Diaries by the last governor, Chris Patten, and 300 Short Essays by late columnist Lee Yee. This focus on "soft resistance" indicates a strategic shift in enforcement. The authorities are not just targeting hardcore separatist material but are also moving against literature that fosters critical thinking or historical awareness. The inclusion of Patten’s diaries—a memoir by a British official—highlights the sensitivity surrounding the colonial past and the transition to Chinese rule. By targeting these titles, the security apparatus is signalling that the boundaries of acceptable discourse are narrowing, and that even historical reflection can be construed as a threat to national security.

A Familiar Pattern: Echoes of the Mainland’s Tightening

For some mainland readers, the changes in Hong Kong feel eerily familiar. A man in his 30s from Sichuan, identified only as K, remembers a time when mainland bookshops were vibrant spaces for discussion, with liberal books prominently displayed and regular talks. Around 2015, he noticed a gradual tightening. First, books about the country’s leaders disappeared, then less obviously sensitive titles vanished, and public events became less frequent. Watching Hong Kong undergo a similar transformation, he sees a pattern of convergence. "In the past, people would simply think, 'If I can't buy a book in mainland China, I'll go to Hong Kong'. Now the feeling is different. You don't even know which bookshops will still be here the next time you come." Chen Zhu has a friend who runs a bookshop in Guangzhou, where police occasionally visit to harass the bookseller, and electricity has been cut off during film screenings. She believes Hong Kong "should be a freer place," but she now senses that freedom being curtailed. She recounts attending a bookshop event where government officials entered the premises. "They just sat there listening alongside us," she said, describing a form of surveillance that is both overt and unsettling. The presence of officials at cultural events signals that the state is monitoring not just the content of books but the conversations they inspire.

Geopolitical Calculus: Control, Deterrence, and the "One Country, Two Systems" Formula

The closure of these bookshops must be understood within Beijing’s broader strategic calculus. The National Security Law is not merely a domestic legal instrument; it is a tool for consolidating control over Hong Kong and integrating it more fully into the mainland’s political and ideological framework. The crackdown on bookshops serves multiple purposes: it deters the dissemination of ideas that could challenge the party’s narrative, it signals to the international community that Beijing will not tolerate dissent in its sovereign territory, and it tests the limits of the "one country, two systems" formula. For the West, the closures are a barometer of Hong Kong’s declining autonomy, raising questions about the viability of the 1984 Sino-British Joint Declaration and the city’s role as a global financial hub. The second-order effects are significant. The exodus of booksellers and the closure of shops diminish Hong Kong’s cultural distinctiveness, which has long been a key component of its international appeal. For mainland readers, the loss of these spaces removes a crucial outlet for accessing information that is otherwise censored. The crackdown also has a chilling effect on foreign publishers and authors, who may reconsider their willingness to distribute works in Hong Kong. The strategic ambiguity of the red lines creates a self-reinforcing cycle of censorship, where the fear of prosecution leads to pre-emptive compliance, further narrowing the space for intellectual exchange.

The Reader’s Resolve: Quiet Resistance in a Shrinking Space

Despite the pessimism within the bookselling industry, some readers are determined to continue their patronage. Chris, a 20-year-old whose name has been changed, was frightened after hearing about the arrests at Hunter Bookstore, but he says he will keep going. "Buying a book has become a quiet way of showing support, and a quiet form of resistance," he said. This sentiment reflects a broader shift in how mainland readers engage with Hong Kong. The act of purchasing a book is no longer just a commercial transaction; it is a political statement, a way of asserting a connection to a freer intellectual tradition. An industry insider remains cautiously optimistic, noting that readers are not powerless. "We can still buy books. We can still read. And we can still read a great many books," they said. The resilience of readers like Chen Zhu, Li, and Chris suggests that the demand for independent thought will not be easily extinguished. However, the practical obstacles are mounting. K, the reader from Sichuan, now chooses busier border crossings, avoids books featuring politically sensitive figures, and has hidden books inside his clothes or deep in his luggage to evade customs. The anxiety of the journey is a stark reminder of the risks involved in seeking knowledge that the state deems dangerous. As the doors of these bookshops close, the question is not whether the crackdown will succeed in silencing dissent, but at what cost to Hong Kong’s identity and to the trust of the mainland readers who once saw the city as a beacon of freedom. The closures are a testament to the reach of the National Security Law, but they also underscore the enduring human desire for the "possibilities" that Li spoke of—a desire that, for now, has nowhere else to go. This article was produced with AI-assisted research and editorial support. Sources: BBC News. By Prof. Marcus Chen, Staff Writer