Hong Kong has its own Antigone and her name is Chow Hang-Tung. I had never heard of her until June 4, 2021. Every year from 1989 until the start of the pandemic, Hong Kong has commemorated the Tiananmen Massacre with a candlelight vigil at Victoria Park on June 4. Though attendance had been dwindling through the years, the vigil is a proud tradition and one that marks Hong Kong as unique, because nowhere else within China can the events of Tiananmen be openly acknowledged, much less memorialized. This changed, however, in 2020, with the passing of the National Security Law (NSL). Ostensibly a law to criminalize subversion and protect the integrity of the state, many understood it to be a weapon to stifle dissent of any kind. Freedom of speech and freedom of assembly, rights once guaranteed by Hong Kong’s mini-constitution, the Basic Law, have been superseded by this new law. As a consequence of the NSL, these freedoms can now only be exercised in a context in which they do not threaten the status quo as defined by China. Given Beijing’s resolute denial of the events of Tiananmen in 1989, convening a commemoration on June 4 in this new environment could well be deemed subversive, though, interestingly, applications to hold the vigil as usual in 2020 and 2021 had been denied on public health grounds and not on political grounds. While there was no official indication that approval had been withheld because the vigil contravened the National Security Law, the excessively large police presence in the vicinity of Victoria Park on the night of June 4, 2021 was sending a rather different message, as was Chow’s arrest on the morning of the same day. Chow is the vice-chair of the Hong Kong Alliance in Support of Patriotic Democratic Movements of China, an organization that has convened the Tiananmen vigil in Hong Kong over the years. In the absence of the Hong Kong Alliance’s leaders (who had been imprisoned in sweeping NSL arrests earlier in the year), Chow, a bespectacled barrister with a broad, frank face and a friendly smile, stepped up to maintain Hong Kong’s commitment to remember Tiananmen. Knowing that a permit to gather and conduct the memorial had been denied, she posted on Facebook that she would continue the tradition of lighting a candle in a public space to commemorate the events of June 4, 1989. Her message ends with an exhortation to keep the candlelight alive in the cold, to keep the bottom line of our conscience, and to keep our remaining freedom. Only by standing our ground and defending our position and principles with actions can we win the space for survival. On June 4 this year, let us continue to fight for justice for the dead and dignity for the living with candlelight. She was promptly arrested and, in January 2022, convicted and sentenced to fifteen months in prison for these words. The charge was “promoting an unauthorized assembly.” For a brief period, while out on bail, Chow remained in the news. Faced with both an additional accusation that the organization she headed was an “agent of foreign forces” and a police request for information on the Hong Kong Alliance’s finances and membership, Chow characterized the targeting of the Alliance as the exercise of “unreasonable power” and pointedly declined to accede to any demands. This act of non-compliance landed her back in jail on new charges of failing to cooperate with police investigations and subversion of the state. Her continual defiance of the authorities was extraordinary, a brave devotion to principle that she continued to exhibit even in prison. While a number of her fellow activists had strategically opted to plead guilty to charges of incitement and sedition in exchange for a reduced sentence, Chow refused to do so. In a bilingual message to supporters published on Patreon explaining her decision, she runs through the pros and cons of pleading guilty and concludes that, no matter the consequences, she is unable to be dishonest: What I said before everything took place shall remain the same in my submission to the court. It shall not alter due to threats of penalty. You can force bitter manual tasks on me — like washing the toilet — and smelly porridge, but you can’t force me to speak contrary to my mind. You can even force me to shut up but you can’t force me to utter what I do not believe. Her word matters to her and, even if a guilty plea is now meaningless in a law court whose integrity is questionable, she still cannot bring herself to admit to the allegation brought against her. My speech is sacred and inviolable. It embodies my free will which cannot be taken away by any exterior forces. And to live up to every word I have said is a very humble discipline I set for myself. Taking such a stance is exhausting, as she herself admits, but better to expend her energies while holding to such a position than to live aimlessly. More than her honesty, what I believe marks Chow out as truly remarkable, is her consistency. She has her principles and she will stay loyal to them. Like Antigone, she has a single-minded purposefulness that propels and fortifies her through her difficulties. I know that I am not like Antigone, principled and unafraid, choosing to defy her uncle Creon’s decree and give her brother his burial rites, even if it means certain death. She marches unwaveringly through the play like an otherworldly saint set on martyrdom. Doing right by her brother and acting in accordance with the laws of God matter more than life itself. No, I am not Antigone; I do not have such courage; I do not have a death wish. Does this mean that I am Ismene, Antigone’s sister whom Creon says can be found sniffling within his house? She doesn’t sound like much. If we are to believe Creon, Ismene seems