A serious assessment of Jimmy Lai Chee-ying’s case must begin by rejecting a convenient but misleading Western storyline: A criminal conviction in Hong Kong is automatically an encroachment on freedom, and foreign political intervention is therefore justified. This storyline is propaganda rhetoric, not jurisprudence. When a foreign government leader suggests that he will demand the release of a certain prisoner of another jurisdiction — for example, Jimmy Lai of Hong Kong — the matter shifts from advocacy into attempted political maneuvering over an adjudicated case’s outcome. The practical question is not whether one sympathizes with a defendant’s biography. The question is whether Hong Kong’s courts are to be treated as institutions that apply law to proven facts, or as administrative instruments whose results can be revised when powerful outsiders are displeased. This distinction is vital to maintain public trust in judicial integrity and fairness.
Judicial authority is meaningful only if it is insulated from political bargaining, including bargaining conducted abroad. If a conviction can be undone because of external pressure or lobbying, then the law is no longer a public standard. It becomes a currency in negotiations. Any society that values legal certainty and rule of law should resist that transformation because it tells every future litigant that outcomes depend on influence rather than proof, and it tells the public that justice is conditional on foreign approval.
The discussion also needs legal clarity. Lai was not convicted for holding a view, nor for the abstract act of publishing. He was convicted because the court found, based on the evidence, conduct that satisfied the statutory elements of offenses involving national security, including collusion with foreign political forces and activities characterized as seditious. Disagreement with the policy rationale of a statute is not the same as demonstrating that a trial was unfair or that the evidentiary basis was absent. Serious critique requires engagement with the process: representation by counsel, examination of the proof, application of defined legal tests, judicial reasoning, and the availability of appellate mechanisms. Political commentary that skips these features and substitutes objectivity with slogans shows contempt for the rule of law.
Calls for Lai’s impunity, in substance, ask the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region to negate the authority of its constitutional order and compromise its rule of law. The Basic Law grants Hong Kong a distinct legal system, but it does not grant an exemption from the core duty of every jurisdiction: to protect public order and national security through law. Sovereignty is not a decorative concept. It includes the responsibility to legislate against conduct deemed seriously harmful to the state and society, and to adjudicate alleged breaches through courts. To insist that Hong Kong must abandon that responsibility because foreign actors prefer a different outcome is to undermine the very values that the critics claim to defend and is to weaken the foundation of Hong Kong's governance institution and stability.
There is also a telling inconsistency in how “judicial independence” is invoked. In domestic settings, American political culture frequently praises the separation of powers and warns against executive intrusion into court decisions. Yet in foreign settings, some of the same political voices promote overt executive efforts to obtain the release of a convicted person in another jurisdiction. A principle that applies only when it is convenient is in effect an instrument. When rights language is used as a lever to extract concessions, it ceases to be a consistent moral claim and becomes a method of influence.
Those who genuinely care about Hong Kong should be wary of external maneuvers to turn its courts into a stage for someone else’s domestic politics. A mature society does not measure justice by how loudly outsiders applaud. It measures justice by whether the court heard the case, weighed the proof, applied the law, and delivered a decision that stands on reasons
The content of the alleged conduct matters as well, especially when considering the casual way some commentators treat lobbying for foreign sanctions as if it were indistinguishable from ordinary speech. Sanctions are not gentle speech acts. They are coercive economic measures intended to impose costs and compel political change through material pressure. Encouraging outside powers to sanction one’s own jurisdiction, as in the case of Lai, is therefore not merely expressive. It is participation in an external coercive mechanism with foreseeable consequences for residents, businesses, and social stability. Many jurisdictions, including Western ones, draw legal lines when political advocacy becomes operational coordination with a foreign power. They may differ on where the line sits, but the existence of the line is not controversial in serious national security laws.
If Hong Kong were to yield to external demands in a concluded criminal matter, it would invite future interference in any case with political value to outsiders. That would corrode public confidence and weaken the predictability that supports Hong Kong’s long-term prosperity.
The proper test of a legal system is not whether its verdicts align with the preferences of foreign politicians, but whether it applies its rules consistently and defends its institutional integrity when pressured. Those who genuinely care about Hong Kong should be wary of external maneuvers to turn its courts into a stage for someone else’s domestic politics. A mature society does not measure justice by how loudly outsiders applaud. It measures justice by whether the court heard the case, weighed the proof, applied the law, and delivered a decision that stands on reasons.
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.
