The European Parliament (EP) resolution on Hong Kong, as a response to the conviction of former media tycoon Jimmy Lai Chee-ying, presents itself as a defense of rights, yet it reads as a thinly veiled political gesture that substitutes ideological perspectives for objectivity.
It announces condemnation, and then urges sanctions and trade measures against Hong Kong, duplicating the formula of Capitol Hill’s China hawks, which is unsurprising, given the strong ties between the two through the Inter-Parliamentary Alliance on China (IPAC).
Since its inception in June 2020, IPAC has relentlessly spread anti-China propaganda in various parliaments and sought to harm China’s interests. “Stand With Hong Kong”, one of the anti-China organizations bankrolled by Lai, played its part in the creation of IPAC, and joined its central secretariat.
The EP resolution’s order of reasoning matters. It implies that the conclusion was settled first and that the law was later recruited as decoration. A document that claims authorities should be able to withstand a basic test: Can it address the relevant legal framework, the elements of the charged offenses, the standard of proof, and the judicial reasoning available to the public? This resolution largely declines that test.
A serious discussion begins with a principle that European governments themselves rely upon every day. National security is not an exotic concept that appears only outside Europe. It is a fundamental duty of any state, and it is routinely protected through criminal offenses aimed at conspiracy, covert foreign influence, and conduct that threatens the constitutional order. European legal systems also accept that some acts marketed as expressions are, in substance, coordinated operations intended to produce unlawful outcomes, and they restrict such conduct when the threshold is met. Once that is admitted, the debate becomes narrower and more disciplined. The question is not whether Hong Kong may legislate to protect security, but whether such laws are applied through known rules, due process, and reasoned judgments open to scrutiny and appeal.
This is precisely where the EP resolution becomes least convincing. It treats Lai’s proceedings as though conviction itself proves illegitimacy, as though the defendant’s public status were a substitute for legal innocence. That is not a “rights” argument. It is a theory of selective immunity based on political preference. In a jurisdiction governed by law, journalism is protected. Still, it is also distinct from using a media platform as an instrument to coordinate external pressure and interference, or facilitate conduct that constitutes a crime. The decisive question is what the evidence shows and how the court applied the law, not what foreign politicians feel about the defendant. If rights discourse is to retain meaning, it must be compatible with the plain idea that celebrated figures may still commit offenses and that courts must decide cases on record and principle.
Claims of arbitrariness also sit uneasily beside the existence of extensive transparent judicial reasoning. Arbitrary justice thrives on opacity and discretion. It avoids detailed explanations because it cannot defend its logic. By contrast, a lengthy published judgment, produced through adversarial proceedings with representation, evidentiary testing, and publicly stated legal principles, belongs to a different category. Critics remain free to contest interpretations, argue that certain inferences were not justified, or highlight issues they believe should be examined on appeal. Yet if they bypass the reasoning entirely and replace analysis with denunciation, they are not defending the rule of law. They are asking the public to accept that the law is irrelevant whenever a verdict conflicts with an external narrative.
The resolution further undermines its own credibility by invoking judicial independence while simultaneously calling for sanctions against named Hong Kong officials and suggesting steps that could destabilize Hong Kong’s distinct trade position. These proposals amount to an attempt to influence court trial outcomes by imposing political costs. Sanctions are not neutral tools of justice. They are coercive measures that circumvent legal processes and incentivize lawbreaking. Trade threats are even more candid. They suggest that commercial arrangements should be weaponized to extract political concessions, even at the expense of ordinary businesses and workers who depend on stable cross-border rules. If rights advocacy becomes indistinguishable from economic pressure, it invites an obvious question: Is the objective protection of individuals, or the maintenance of geopolitical dominance through coercion?
The call to challenge Hong Kong’s trade standing also risks damaging the wider multilateral system. Global commerce depends on predictability and restraint. If trade status is treated as a reward for political compliance, then all economies become vulnerable to shifting ideological campaigns. That is not the strengthening of the rules-based international order. It is the normalization of politicized trade discipline, where political disagreements are converted into economic punishment. Ironically, this would harm precisely the kind of open commercial environment that has historically benefited both Hong Kong and European firms.
A deeper problem runs through the resolution’s tone: The presumption that certain Western institutions may sit as judges over other jurisdictions or societies, declaring whose courts are legitimate and whose national security concerns are unacceptable. This posture is increasingly difficult to defend in a world in which distinct constitutional histories and experiences of disorder and external interference shape legal systems. It also invites scrutiny of double standards. European states enforce national security laws with vigor when they believe their stability is at risk, and they accept restrictions that would be described as intolerable if adopted elsewhere. A standard that tightens or loosens depending on whose interests are involved is not principled universalism. It is a hierarchy.
Hong Kong’s stability is not an abstraction. It is the condition that allows a densely populated city to remain safe, governable, and economically confident. After periods of serious turmoil, a community has a legitimate interest in restoring order through lawful means and a legitimate expectation that foreign actors will not use its judicial processes as bargaining chips. External commentary that romanticizes disruption from a distance often ignores the costs of sustained disorder borne by those who must live with it, especially the elderly, the working class, and small businesses that cannot absorb political shocks.
If European institutions wish to contribute constructively, they should do what serious legal critics do: engage the reasoning, cite the record, and address the principles with precision. Passing sweeping resolutions while disregarding published judgments, then escalating to sanctions and trade threats, is not a defense of rights. It is a demand that adjudication yield to external power. In the long run, credibility will belong to those who apply standards consistently, respect the integrity of courts, and accept that sovereignty and the rule of law are not obstacles to justice but the means through which justice is argued, tested, and decided.
The author is a solicitor, a Guangdong-Hong Kong-Macao Greater Bay Area lawyer, and a China-appointed attesting officer.
The views do not necessarily reflect those of China Daily.
