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A Death in Hong Kong: The MacLennan Case of 1980 and the Suppression of a Scandal
In January 1980 a young police officer named John MacLennan committed suicide in his Ho Man Tin flat. His death came mere hours before he was to be arrested for committing homosexual acts still, at that point, illegal in Hong Kong. But this was more than the desperate act of a young man, ashamed and afraid; both his death and the subsequent investigation were a smokescreen for a scandal that went to the heart of the establishment.
MacLennan came to Hong Kong from Scotland during a time of social unrest and corruption scandals, a time when the triads still took their cut, and when homosexuality and paedophilia were considered interchangeable and both offered easy targets for blackmail. The governorship of Sir Murray MacLehose was to be a time of reform and progress, but with that remit came the determination of many to suppress scandals and silence those who stirred up trouble. Both the life and death of John MacLennan seemed to many of those in power to threaten the stability of one of Britain’s last colonies.
MacLennan came to Hong Kong from Scotland during a time of social unrest and corruption scandals, a time when the triads still took their cut, and when homosexuality and paedophilia were considered interchangeable and both offered easy targets for blackmail. The governorship of Sir Murray MacLehose was to be a time of reform and progress, but with that remit came the determination of many to suppress scandals and silence those who stirred up trouble. Both the life and death of John MacLennan seemed to many of those in power to threaten the stability of one of Britain’s last colonies.
- GenresLGBT
552 pages, Paperback
First published March 1, 2018
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
June 25, 2018
"They would make blatant use of any homosexual's predicament in Hong Kong, which was that his very survival there depended upon his living a lie, to show the witness was ill-intentioned, criminal, deviant, and deceitful."
The MacLennan case, as very clearly laid out by Nigel Collett, is the perfect example of how discrimination is not only a human rights issue, not only humiliates individuals, but is also a policy that damages country and confuscates real crimes.
These policies are directly responsible for blackmail and silencing of queer (and sometimes non-queer) voices that threaten power, and particularly threaten corrupt power. 1970s Hong Kong was one of widespread corruption, and MacLennan ― a bisexual man ― was essentially hounded to suicide, for a (seemingly) small demonstration that he rejected this corruption.
The other frightening message from this book was the ease at which homosexuality was conflated with pedophilia when it was convenient to do so. Clear cases of high-profile pedophiles were ignored, or worse, protected. Whilst MacLennan, who was far from perfect and potentially paid for sex from underage men, was investigated for sex with consenting adults. The need for results meant that the remit to focus on (often powerful) pedophiles or procurers was loosened, and homosexuals of lesser status and more convenience were charged.
The messages of this book are complex. The recent legal advances we've made are often framed around human rights and dignity. And whilst the early advocates were likely driven by these motivations, these early wins were fought in complex ways. This book really drives that home.
The events of the MacLennan case flatter almost nobody involved, and Hong Kong has clearly come a long way from the 1970s. But it really needs to be said the Elsie Elliott is somewhat of a hero here. Her drive led to the inquiry that brought attention to this case, and despite the extremely strange attack on her character by the commission, she was an honourable character. She was a vocal advocate of justice, and should be congratulated for it.
For anyone interested in queer history, Hong Kong history or corruption should read this book.
The MacLennan case, as very clearly laid out by Nigel Collett, is the perfect example of how discrimination is not only a human rights issue, not only humiliates individuals, but is also a policy that damages country and confuscates real crimes.
These policies are directly responsible for blackmail and silencing of queer (and sometimes non-queer) voices that threaten power, and particularly threaten corrupt power. 1970s Hong Kong was one of widespread corruption, and MacLennan ― a bisexual man ― was essentially hounded to suicide, for a (seemingly) small demonstration that he rejected this corruption.
The other frightening message from this book was the ease at which homosexuality was conflated with pedophilia when it was convenient to do so. Clear cases of high-profile pedophiles were ignored, or worse, protected. Whilst MacLennan, who was far from perfect and potentially paid for sex from underage men, was investigated for sex with consenting adults. The need for results meant that the remit to focus on (often powerful) pedophiles or procurers was loosened, and homosexuals of lesser status and more convenience were charged.
The messages of this book are complex. The recent legal advances we've made are often framed around human rights and dignity. And whilst the early advocates were likely driven by these motivations, these early wins were fought in complex ways. This book really drives that home.
The events of the MacLennan case flatter almost nobody involved, and Hong Kong has clearly come a long way from the 1970s. But it really needs to be said the Elsie Elliott is somewhat of a hero here. Her drive led to the inquiry that brought attention to this case, and despite the extremely strange attack on her character by the commission, she was an honourable character. She was a vocal advocate of justice, and should be congratulated for it.
For anyone interested in queer history, Hong Kong history or corruption should read this book.
September 3, 2018
Every true crime novel struggles with conveying the mammoth amount of information collected to tell their story and simultaneously not be weighed down by so much detail.
Collett does well to temper this by dividing his unfolding tale into succinct, short chapters that are to the point. Yet still this book was, for me, a very slow read. Many, many names (not helped when they're interchangeably referred to by their first names or surnames), many acronyms, clunky unnecessary details and occasionally Collett's own vociferous style of writing impeded this book's pace.
Nevertheless, this book shares incredible insight into the state of Hong Kong during the 70s, its conflicting attitudes towards homosexuality, its capricious police force and their virulent grappling with corruption.
Collett does well to temper this by dividing his unfolding tale into succinct, short chapters that are to the point. Yet still this book was, for me, a very slow read. Many, many names (not helped when they're interchangeably referred to by their first names or surnames), many acronyms, clunky unnecessary details and occasionally Collett's own vociferous style of writing impeded this book's pace.
Nevertheless, this book shares incredible insight into the state of Hong Kong during the 70s, its conflicting attitudes towards homosexuality, its capricious police force and their virulent grappling with corruption.
October 19, 2020
The book is somewhat mis-marketed by its title and cover as a sort of historical crime thriller. While this certainly makes the book more appealing on the shelf (I know it’s why I picked it up), it also does a disservice to the impressive and meticulously detailed scholarly work that Nigel Collet has pulled off, one that certainly deserves its academic award from the RASHK. Basically, if you’re looking for a story that brings the seedy underbelly of 1970s corruption in Hong Kong to life, this probably isn’t the book for you. But if you’re looking for careful analysis of the legal, political, and social dimensions of why and how that corruptions occurred, this book is a masterpiece.
Collet writes about the MacLennan case of 1980, where a bisexual Scottish policeman posted in Hong Kong was (allegedly) targeted by other police officers after reporting bribes in his department. Since homosexuality was illegal in Hong Kong at the time (and socially associated with pedophilia), MacLennan’s bisexuality became the tool to discredit him. Under the stress of being investigated this way, MacLennan is found dead by an apparent suicide. The book tracks MacLennan’s time in Hong Kong, the shortcomings of the investigations into his private life and his death, and the deficiencies in the public inquiry set up to examine the situation.
What really shines is Collet’s ability to demonstrate how corruption, miscarriages of justice, and other bureaucratic failures happen when people act in bad faith or are put in compromising positions. A recurring theme is the many closeted police officials, civil servants, and politicians being blackmailed by triads, pimps, and other police for their sexuality, causing them to look the other way or make false statements under oath. We also see fears of “blowing the lid off” the British colonial administration by allowing a police scandal to compromise the Crown Government’s legitimacy – especially in the run up to Handover negotiations with China – and how this motivated senior officials to pressure for a speedy and neutered inquiry rather than a fully empowered one.
We also get a good sense of how to resist that corruption, with Elsie Elliot (later Tu) and Aileen Bridgewater’s crusade for a public inquiry being carefully documented. Collet does show a sort of bias towards these two (he even dedicated the book to both of them), and a more skeptical reader might interpret the pair’s public speculations about murder and other conspiracies as unproductive and meddling in the judicial process. He also hand-waives Elliot’s eventual fall from public grace as her having “what many perceived as a pro-Beijing stance,” when in fact she participated in the drafting committee for the Basic Law, the Beijing-appointed Provisional LegCo, and supported the National Security Law in 2003! That said, she was certainly a powerful voice against police corruption in the MacLennan case and others, and a great advocate for social issues in Hong Kong generally. Despite her mixed legacy, the author’s choice to honor her as a heroine in this specific saga is understandable in my opinion.
Collet’s commitment to historiography is also remarkable, with every statement of fact being cited with a primary source and clear demarcations between fact and speculation where it’s necessary. I’d be interested in reading the second edition to lead about the new evidenced that’s emerged since publication. A must read for those who want to better understand British Hong Kong, or are interested in true crime and law/politics!
Collet writes about the MacLennan case of 1980, where a bisexual Scottish policeman posted in Hong Kong was (allegedly) targeted by other police officers after reporting bribes in his department. Since homosexuality was illegal in Hong Kong at the time (and socially associated with pedophilia), MacLennan’s bisexuality became the tool to discredit him. Under the stress of being investigated this way, MacLennan is found dead by an apparent suicide. The book tracks MacLennan’s time in Hong Kong, the shortcomings of the investigations into his private life and his death, and the deficiencies in the public inquiry set up to examine the situation.
What really shines is Collet’s ability to demonstrate how corruption, miscarriages of justice, and other bureaucratic failures happen when people act in bad faith or are put in compromising positions. A recurring theme is the many closeted police officials, civil servants, and politicians being blackmailed by triads, pimps, and other police for their sexuality, causing them to look the other way or make false statements under oath. We also see fears of “blowing the lid off” the British colonial administration by allowing a police scandal to compromise the Crown Government’s legitimacy – especially in the run up to Handover negotiations with China – and how this motivated senior officials to pressure for a speedy and neutered inquiry rather than a fully empowered one.
We also get a good sense of how to resist that corruption, with Elsie Elliot (later Tu) and Aileen Bridgewater’s crusade for a public inquiry being carefully documented. Collet does show a sort of bias towards these two (he even dedicated the book to both of them), and a more skeptical reader might interpret the pair’s public speculations about murder and other conspiracies as unproductive and meddling in the judicial process. He also hand-waives Elliot’s eventual fall from public grace as her having “what many perceived as a pro-Beijing stance,” when in fact she participated in the drafting committee for the Basic Law, the Beijing-appointed Provisional LegCo, and supported the National Security Law in 2003! That said, she was certainly a powerful voice against police corruption in the MacLennan case and others, and a great advocate for social issues in Hong Kong generally. Despite her mixed legacy, the author’s choice to honor her as a heroine in this specific saga is understandable in my opinion.
Collet’s commitment to historiography is also remarkable, with every statement of fact being cited with a primary source and clear demarcations between fact and speculation where it’s necessary. I’d be interested in reading the second edition to lead about the new evidenced that’s emerged since publication. A must read for those who want to better understand British Hong Kong, or are interested in true crime and law/politics!
December 15, 2019
This book took me forever, and not just because it was very thick. The opening started relatively well - Collett built up MacLennan's story in concise chapters and the unusual plot circling around homosexuality in Hong Kong and the city's corruption in the late 70s and early 80s manages to hook the reader in somewhat. I certainly did feel a sense of tension and trepidation coming up to the chapters when MacLennan killed himself - but after that point in the book, the majority of my strong feelings withered away. Reading it became, whilst still interesting, a rather mind-numbing experience as my brain struggled to keep up with the vast number of names mentioned in the book. Including an index, glossary of key terms and names was a great (not to mention necessary) addition. The commission of inquiry saga that took up the second half of the book seemed to go on forever and ever. Although it's obvious that any law case would be complex, especially this one with a scandal behind it, I can't help wondering if there was any information that could've been left out to let it be much more concise. Furthermore, the "Suppression of a Scandal" was explored much more at the beginning of the book than as the commission of inquiry unfolded. Though this is a small point that may only irk me, I kept reading to find out more about this 'scandal' only to realise that there wasn't actually going to be anymore on this. All in all, I'd recommend this to anyone interested in Hong Kong's colonial past, the city's LGBT+ history or its judicial system. Maybe not for anyone with a tendency to fall asleep quickly.
July 7, 2018
I wanted to like this book. Always looking for a read that will extend a vacation or trip. This did not do it! The first 100 pages read like the Book of Genesis and I just had to put it down. I tried skimming ahead thinking that I could get to the story. It just wasn’t there. It was a regurgitation of the evidence and facts with nothing weaving them together.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews