During his latest visit to China, French President Emmanuel Macron stole the show in Chengdu when, spotting a crowd of students outside Sichuan University, he jogged straight toward them, eliciting shrieks of laughter, outstretched hands, and a reception more often reserved for pop stars than presidents.
What was meant to be a routine campus visit became the liveliest part, with students reaching out for handshakes and recording the moment on their phones as he discussed France-China cooperation, culture, and the significance of young-people exchanges. Looking at those clips, you could almost believe Chengdu had always been this carefree — a city of easy smiles and relaxed crowds — yet beneath that composure lies the shared memory of a devastating earthquake and years of patient work to patch communities back together as meticulously as roads, schools, and homes were rebuilt.
On a recent visit to Chengdu, what stood out most was this quiet transformation: an ordinary city that has learned to make extraordinary use of its social capital. In Yulin East Road, an unassuming residential area, the pavements have become a kind of extended communal space: neighbors linger under the shade of trees, community cadres pause for long conversations, and a resident artist works with families on small displays and notebooks of stories so that even painful memories are talked through together rather than carried alone. These are not grand monuments to resilience, but modest, human-scale spaces that make it easier for neighbors to talk, disagree, reconcile, and ultimately decide together how their community should evolve.
The memory that remains of today’s easygoing Chengdu is the earthquake that devastated Wenchuan and much of Sichuan province in 2008, killing tens of thousands, injuring hundreds of thousands, and displacing millions as entire towns were destroyed. Chengdu itself avoided the most severe structural damage, but it swiftly became the main center for rescue and rebuilding — a city where survivors were flown in, volunteer and official teams were dispatched, and, over time, specialists and nongovernmental organizations established a network for long-term reconstruction and psychological support across the quake-affected region.
Nearly two decades later, this experience has evolved into a unique approach to urban governance that regards residents not as passive recipients of services but as co-owners of their environment. Along Yulin East Road, this ethos is clear in the way local officials walk the streets, knock on doors, and meet people, transforming consultation from a bureaucratic process into an everyday practice of listening, mediating, and solving problems.
For those who saw their homes and memories go up in flames, proper recovery requires more than just compensation or new flats; it involves patient efforts to rebuild confidence, identity and community bonds
Seemingly small gestures, such as personally addressing a noise complaint or inviting community artists to co-design public spaces, gradually build trust and a sense of ownership that no top-down plan can establish.
Further out at Luhu Lake, a relatively new residential area, the same philosophy has been upheld from the beginning. Residents have created a community museum and a children’s art festival, supported by a tripartite platform that brings together homeowners, the property developer, and the local party community committee to discuss shared issues and jointly fund local initiatives.
Supermarkets allocate shelf space to local entrepreneurs; community programs are specifically designed for children and families; and governance structures, from resident foundations to consultation mechanisms, foster a sense of collective ownership, encouraging residents to transition from service users to co-designers of the neighborhood’s future.
Hong Kong now confronts a crucial moment of social rehabilitation after the Wang Fuk Court fire. The government has responded quickly, providing temporary shelters, deploying social workers and promising long-term rehousing plans. However, for those who saw their homes and memories go up in flames, proper recovery requires more than just compensation or new flats; it involves patient efforts to rebuild confidence, identity and community bonds. This is where Chengdu’s experience offers a strong reference point.
The challenge for Hong Kong is not only to reconstruct the housing lost in Tai Po but also to use this moment of disruption as an opportunity to pilot a new model of “co-consultation, co-discussion and co-living” that brings government, businesses, civil society, residents and developers into genuine partnership.
If Wang Fuk Court redevelopment is approached as a dynamic experiment in partnership, with open forums, community archives, cultural initiatives and resident-led committees included from the start, the estate could become a symbol of modern Hong Kong resilience.
The timing could not be more significant. Hong Kong has just completed a new Legislative Council election, returning lawmakers who have emphasized stability, livelihoods and community well-being as their priorities. Several new geographical constituency legislators gained experience in district work by knocking on doors and managing neighborhood disputes, so they are very aware of how often people feel their community has had little real influence on the outcome. The new LegCo has a rare opportunity to foster a culture of deliberation that spans bureaus, district officers, district councilors, and private developers.
Instead of viewing district governance solely through administrative efficiency, Hong Kong can start recognizing each neighborhood as a reservoir of “dormant community capital” — from retired civil servants and professionals to young entrepreneurs, social innovators and cultural workers who are eager to contribute.
The redevelopment of Wang Fuk Court could, for example, include a fund to support local initiatives, participatory design workshops for new public spaces, and transparent platforms that bring homeowners’ voices into dialogue with officials and project managers at every stage. Such mechanisms would enable executive leadership to benefit from the creativity and lived knowledge of the community it serves.
Macron’s lighthearted visit to the Sichuan University campus captured a Chengdu that seems effortlessly confident, welcoming, and at ease with the world. That atmosphere is the result of years of investment in trust between the government and citizens, and also among neighbors — shaped by the remnants of one of modern China’s worst natural disasters.
In the aftermath of the Tai Po fire, Hong Kong has the capacity and the steadiness to chart its own path toward neighborhood-level renewal. What starts with one estate can, over time, ripple across others, restoring a sense of connection and community in the places that people call home.
Jane Lee is president of Our Hong Kong Foundation and Dicky Chow is head of Healthcare and Social Innovation of Our Hong Kong Foundation.
The views do not necessarily reflect those of China Daily.
