Episode #287: Brewing Up Change
Release Date: November 26
“There's no ending of activism, because injustice is everywhere. And after you finish one milestone, there's always something you can keep on fighting for.”
Johnson Yeung was born in Hong Kong. He developed an interest in politics early in life, and at university, he studied political philosophy, which gave him a theoretical framework for understanding activism. But his real education came from the vibrant culture of student activism he encountered on campus. An activist for over a decade now, his first foray into activism was participating in an event commemorating the Tiananmen Square massacre—a highly sensitive issue in the People’s Republic of China (PRC), yet still publicly remembered in Hong Kong, much to the dismay of the mainland government. As political tensions deepened, many residents in Hong Kong felt their civil liberties and freedoms were being eroded. This growing unrest culminated in the Umbrella Movement of 2014, a mass protest that called for greater freedom and representation. Johnson served as one of its key organizers.
The Umbrella Movement was revolutionary in its highly adaptive yet consistently peaceful nature. It gained global recognition, its tactics closely studied by activists across Southeast Asia who saw the Umbrella Movement as a model for non-violent resistance and collective action in their own struggles for democracy and human rights. This connection, in turn, led Johnson to his present involvement in regional solidarity work.
In between his political activities, Johnson finds time for a hobby that he both enjoys very much and feels has a parallel to activism: rock climbing. “I actually find the process of rock climbing quite similar to activism, because during rock climbing, you always fall! You always get disappointed about why couldn't I just get to the top and get to the peak?! But every time we fall, we just keep going. Like what we do in activism.”
Johnson has forged strong connections with activists across the region. Since the 2021 coup, he has been in close contact with activists in Myanmar, and also Taiwan, Thailand, Indonesia, and the Philippines, where citizens are increasingly fighting to protect or restore their democracies and civil liberties in the face of growing government overreach and repression. These movements are united under the broad banner of the Milk Tea Alliance (MTA), a transnational solidarity network that connects activists across Asia in their shared struggle for freedom and democracy (and discussed in great detail with Marc Batac in an earlier episode).
Johnson traces the Milk Tea Alliance’s origins to an online meme war in 2020, initially sparked by a conflict between Thai netizens and trolls in the PRC over comments made by a Thai celebrity regarding Taiwan's independence—an issue highly sensitive in China. What began as a digital spat quickly evolved into a broader movement as Thai netizens invited their counterparts from Taiwan and Hong Kong to join in solidarity. The term "Milk Tea Alliance" was coined during this period, symbolizing the spontaneous and informal alliance among people from East and Southeast Asia who share cultural similarities, including a love for their respective versions of milk tea—which notably, is not found in China.
To underscore the importance of regional solidarity and the power of online activism, Johnson Yeung attempted to host an event featuring a Burmese CDM (Civil Disobedience Movement) medical worker to share his story and raise awareness of the coup in Myanmar. Although the plan was for just a small event, held in a private bookstore and unrelated to Hong Kong politics, the Hong Kong authorities still intervened. They pressured the bookstore owners, demanding that they apply for an entertainment license to hold the event. Fearing a police raid, Johnson decided to move the event online, instead, where it was a great success, reaching an even broader audience and staying beyond the reach of local authorities. “It does anger me,” Johnson admits. “Talking about CDM in Myanmar is the least thing that we can do in Hong Kong for Myanmar, like raising the alarm and talking about a situation, especially as Hong Kong is the second largest investor in Myanmar… that are still complicit with the junta!”
But even online activists face tough going. Johnson describes how Chinese authorities employ hackers and internet trolls to wage cyber warfare, a tactic confirmed by leaked PRC government documents. While many online trolls defend the state voluntarily, it is uncertain if this is stemming from a sense of patriotic duty or as a means of gaming the algorithms and hidden metrics that determine online fame and visibility. This is because in the Chinese digital sphere, pro-government propaganda tends to thrive, making it a fast track for those seeking to build a strong online presence. On the other hand, activist content—especially material directly critical of the state or the Party—often gets buried, or censored outright.
One thing that China's censorship apparatus struggles to control, however, is memes, which have fueled the Burmese online space since the coup (as addressed in this past episode). Memes are snippets of shared culture that take on specific social meaning and symbolism. Memes evolve rapidly, adopting new forms and layers of meaning. In today’s fast-paced internet culture, memes have become a powerful tool of resistance—a way for activists to communicate in a manner that is impenetrable to anyone who is not part of that community. “It's an obscure art, or obscure pictures that might not have a direct message. But people who receive memes, those who have insider knowledge, would laugh, and that's because they are insiders!” Johnson exclaims. “Because they understand the inside joke, the inside meanings of a meme. The fact that someone understands the meme means they are part of a community! So that's the power of memes: Not only are they transmitting political messages, but they are also reinforcing a collective identity, where people will crack a joke and smile, because they understand it.”
Eventually, though, the regime does catch on, deciphering the hidden meanings of memes and then working to censor them. Johnson describes this as a constant cat-and-mouse game. While state loyalists and censors “are not necessarily the smartest people,” they eventually do get the jokes, and then move to censor them. Johnson cites the White Paper Protests as a prime example: Citizens protesting against the government’s COVID-19 restrictions held up blank sheets of paper instead of protest signs. Johnson describes the meme as criticizing China’s “Jacobin control” that “led to tragedies.” It became a meta-protest—an expression not only against the mandates but also against the repression of free speech. With no message on the paper, there was technically nothing to censor, allowing the movement to spread for a while before the authorities could understand and react.
Indeed, China's censorship apparatus often overreacts in their desire to stamp out memes. Johnson recounts an incident where a popular internet personality held up a cake shaped like a combat tank during a livestream on June 4th, the anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre, and a time when censorship is particularly strict. The livestream was abruptly cut, and the streamer disappeared from the public eye for a while. However, as Johnson points out, it's likely the streamer had no knowledge of the Tiananmen massacre or the symbolism of tanks on that day. “That's what makes me feel terrified sometimes, because the power of the government can really wipe out our collective memories!” He just hopes it’s true, as the saying goes, that you can’t fool all the people all the time.
Chinese censorship relies heavily on the centralization of media and communication platforms, making it vulnerable to decentralized, non-standard approaches— like the MTA's. Unlike traditional organizations with hierarchical structures, it is a loose coalition of activists without a single leader or central governing body. Its values and principles are shaped by the participants, based on their shared commitment to democracy, equality, and anti-authoritarianism. Therefore, the Alliance is not a formal organization, but rather a collective identity. As Johnson puts it, #milkteaalliance can be added by anyone on their social media posts, thereby expressing whatever the phrase means to them, which forms a powerful, borderless network of resistance. “Young activists were using the hashtag to share news about their own versions of democracy movement, human rights movement, and the LGBT movement,” he says.
The Milk Tea Alliance operates in a hybrid model, blending online activism with offline actions. While it began as an internet phenomenon, MTA has expanded protests and symbolic acts of defiance in the physical world. Activists across Southeast Asia have leveraged the Alliance to coordinate protests, raise awareness, and apply political pressure on oppressive regimes. “There’s not a single organization that is coordinating actions and [there are] no chapters … rather it is based on person-to-person solidarity, a kind of solidarity doesn't that doesn't attach to money or conditions, rather it really grew from friendships and the urge of supporting each other, because we see ourselves in the same cause.” This cross-border collaboration has strengthened movements, making it easier for activists to learn from each other’s successes and setbacks, uniting them in a common cause despite the geographical and political challenges.
Johnson’s work with the Milk Tea Alliance is particularly focused on supporting Myanmar's fight against military rule. As a co-founder of the Friends of Myanmar initiative, he has helped unite around 100 activists from various countries to coordinate efforts, share resources, and provide meaningful support to the Myanmar resistance movement. Friends of Myanmar holds regular meetings where activists brainstorm ideas, coordinate offline symbolic actions, and offer both logistical and emotional support to those on the ground. “We didn’t want to just publish a statement. Why don't we do something more creative, like offline actions that have symbolic meanings, or to spread our messages?” he recalls asking himself. “And then this mundane core gradually evolved in a more regular manner, that not only people are coming here to share about action ideas and also coordinate action ideas; it has also become a space where people share their traumas and things that they have been troubled with, or to just find a sense of peacefulness in reflecting what they have been doing, and try to regain some energy.”But more than just offering support, MTA also recognizes the crucial need to raise awareness internationally about the situation in Myanmar and intensify efforts to apply political pressure on the junta by highlighting their atrocities.
Aside from his affiliation with the MTA, Johnson serves as an international coordinator for urgent appeals with the Clean Clothes Campaign (CCC), which is a global coalition of 220 labor unions dedicated to improving conditions and workers’ rights in the garment and textile sectors. These industries happen to be crucial to Myanmar’s economy, and Western brands were drawn to invest there because of the availability of cheap labor. Unfortunately, Western corporate involvement has continued despite the coup, which marked a major setback for labor unions in the country (as labor movement expert, Stephen Campbell, has pointed out). Referring to the draconian measures seen on the part of management, Johnson says, “What we are seeing in Myanmar right now is a lot of factory owners are taking advantages of the political turmoil, the conflict, and also the authoritarian practice of the government.” To make matters worse, much of the progress made over the past decade—including advances in labor laws, minimum wages, worker safety, and the right to form unions—has been reversed (a detail that ILO representative Jeff Vogt covered in detail in a previous episode).
Union busting and wage theft in these sectors have become widespread as well, now mostly controlled by regime cronies who exploit the population’s desperation. Workers suspected of anti-junta sympathies face punitive firings. To Johnson and his fellow MTA activists, recent developments at these factories are a direct assault on a free society. “Democracy is not just about building a democratic institution, it is also about spreading a democratic culture, it is also spreading a consensus among the people that we will need to treat each other decently while not using force or violence to make each other's submit,” he says. Overall, Johnson emphasizes that in the face of multiple layers of exploitation and conflict, the key to effective action lies in identifying one's own strengths and sphere of influence, rather than following a single strategy, in order to maximize the impact of one’s efforts. With this in mind, his work with the CCC aims to address these injustices by holding international brands accountable for the conditions in the factories they outsource to, while also advocating for workers’ rights in Myanmar (a cause that fellow activist Michael Haack has also spent considerable time on).
Coincidentally, one of Johnson’s first cases with the CCC involved union busting in Yangon by a Hong Kong-based company. As Johnson notes, “We tried our best, but in Myanmar, those violations are so widespread!” Much of his work has centered on garnering international support for Myanmar's labor movement and pressuring global brands like Zara, H&M, and Adidas to uphold labor rights and provide remedies for violations in the factories they outsource to in Myanmar. Given the dire situation in the country, Johnson stresses the need for international solidarity to stand against the exploitation of labor in Myanmar, as well as genuine commitments specifically from those large clothing brands (a point that labor leader Maung Maung also emphasized in a past episode).
The transnational nature of the makes the Milk Tea Alliance makes their efforts all the more remarkable. As Johnson experienced firsthand when Hong Kong authorities tried to shut down his Myanmar CDM event, governments across the region are quick to defend each other's dictatorships. There is solidarity among oppressive regimes around the fear that democracy is a contagious idea—that a successful revolution in one country could spell disaster for authoritarian regimes elsewhere. “They were afraid of the inspiration that we can give to each other,” Johnson notes proudly. Even when a regime doesn’t directly benefit from propping up abusive labor practices or subversions of democracy in another country, they have a vested interest in preventing their own citizens from being inspired by resistance movements, fearing that such ideas might take root and threaten their own hold on power.
“How would a Hong Kong person be able to exert political influence to support Myanmar? Yes, we don't have a lot of tangible political power, but at least we have the power to narrate our struggle, we have the power of putting out a narrative, to show that authoritarianism and dictatorship is not the majority,” Johnson explains. He believes that the ability to share stories and shape narratives is a form of resistance in itself. “It is the common experience among the youth, among the people in the region, that time after time, has shown that terror and violence could not deter the people's will to gain freedoms, and to democracy.”
For Johnson, solidarity is more than just supporting others: it is an act of defiance against one's own oppressors as well. An act of support for victims anywhere is an act of resistance against oppression everywhere. Johnson believes solidarity within the Asian region was inevitable, as those under the Milk Tea Alliance umbrella have been brought together by their governments through shared suffering and a common struggle.
“Those stories have tied us together, have continued to inspire us that we are on the right side, and we have entitlement to what we are fighting for,” he continues. “And that's what the authority is afraid of! That's what every single dictator in the region is afraid of—that people will be able to see through the smoke and mirrors and be able to take power in their own hands.”