Last week’s protest–which drew an estimated 50,000 Hong Kongers–was a follow-up to the 500,000-person march eight days earlier that stunned the leadership in Hong Kong and Beijing alike. On July 1, organizers told participants–many of whom were new to protests–to wear black. Last week white was the dress code. But the grievances were the same: a general frustration and anger with the poor leadership of Chief Executive Tung Chee-hwa. More demonstrations are planned in what has quickly become the biggest political crisis the territory has faced since its political handover to China in 1997. “A lot of people are wondering how we can tolerate another four years of his term,” says independent legislator Audrey Eu. And, more ominously, some fear what it will mean for Hong Kong if Beijing steps in to clean up the mess.

These days Tung must feel like the loneliest man in Hong Kong. According to a poll conducted by the University of Hong Kong after the July 1 march, if people could vote for Hong Kong’s chief executive, only 13 percent would support Tung. It was due in part to this overwhelming public opinion that James Tien, the pro-business Liberal Party leader and a close personal friend of Tung’s, resigned from the Executive Council, the chief executive’s circle of most trusted advisers. The most immediate significance of Tien’s defection was that Tung no longer had the support he needed to pass the controversial Article 23, the national-security law that protesters claimed would threaten to destroy the territory’s civil liberties and that had been the impetus for their taking to the streets.

On July 5 Tung suggested a watered-down version of the bill, which revised sections that would have made groups outlawed on the mainland illegal in Hong Kong, grant police sweeping powers to search personal property and punish the disclosure of “state secrets.” But, try as he might, his new proposal did not keep others from distancing themselves from the chief executive as they sought political cover. Tsang Yok-sing, the executive counselor representing the pro-China Democratic Alliance for the Betterment of Hong Kong, publicly wondered if he, too, should resign as an adviser. Three Hong Kong deputies to China’s National People’s Congress called on Tung to step down. For his part James Tien, speaking to a small group of journalists days after his resignation, expressed personal regret that he could not continue to support his friend, but in his view the fault lies with Tung. “A better leader should make decisions fast and more effectively, leaving more time for implementation,” says Tien.

To be sure, Hong Kong needs strong leadership more than ever. Hong Kong is now posting a record-high annual budget deficit of $US8 billion, equaling almost 5.5 percent of GDP and one of the highest in Asia. Property is down 70 percent from the top of the market and wages continue to fall while unemployment has risen to a record high, topping 8 percent. “The level of confidence in the government has reached a new low,” says Brian Coulton, senior director of sovereign risk analysis with Fitch, the international financial-ratings agency. “One concern we have is to what extent this administration can push policies to address the budget deficit. It will be hard to pass anything controversial.” And prolonged political instability isn’t likely to help matters.

But for all of Tung’s failings as a manager, his policies are not responsible for most of the territory’s woes. Some political observers admit that Hong Kong’s biggest challenges–rising unemployment, falling competitiveness with other Asian cities, and a SARS-exaggerated economic downturn–are forces that are likely beyond the control of any one person. “The problem is, this gentleman has not done well,” says Ma Lik, secretary general of the Democratic Alliance for the Betterment of Hong Kong. “But even if this gentleman steps down, it doesn’t mean that the quality of life will be improved immediately.”

–Beijing, however, may be willing to give it a try. “Tung has become a political liability for China,” says Prof. Joseph Cheng, a political scientist at the City University of Hong Kong. “If they continue to support him, it could be costly.” Clearly, Beijing is considering its options. In the past several days, China has reportedly dispatched dozens of officials from a number of agencies–including the Foreign Ministry, the security and intelligence service, and the Hong Kong and Macau Affairs Office–to Hong Kong to help assess the political climate. Likewise, several important business figures from the territory have made trips to the mainland to meet with top leaders in Beijing. “China will have the last say,” says Cheng. “But we don’t want to give Beijing the opportunity to take charge. That gives them the incentive to interfere in the affairs of Hong Kong.”

But regime change in Hong Kong is not easily accomplished. The law is tangled–and completely untested–as to how the chief executive, who is effectively appointed by Beijing, can be removed. “It is very, very difficult from a legal perspective,” says legislator Eu. The easiest way–and the one that offers Beijing valuable political cover–is for Tung to resign simply claiming ill health.

But people who know Tung say he is not ready to step aside. Which may explain why, after promising to listen to the “aspirations of the community,” he’s beginning to show Hong Kongers a new face. The day after the July 9 protest, an early-morning traffic accident killed more than 20 people on a double-decker bus. By 10 a.m., Tung–who took more than two weeks to meet the press after the SARS epidemic broke out–was on the scene. It was an unusual sight. The typically aloof chief executive stood there–jacket off and tie loosened–talking about how sad he felt for the lives lost. Afterward, he paid a visit to the hospital, bringing a Hello Kitty doll for the 9-year-old girl who was the youngest survivor of the crash.

But for the territory’s embattled chief executive, it’s hard to believe his political life could still be saved. “This is a crisis of confidence in the leadership,” says Eric Li, a Legislative Council representative. “But the cost of the mainland having to directly manage this problem will… hurt Hong Kong in the long term.” And no one wants to see the territory become a casualty of Tung’s mistakes.