A credible national security system rests on a disciplined distinction between suspicion and proof. When courts and officials are drawn into a public narrative that treats an allegation as a conclusion, the legitimacy of both law and governance is strained. National security prosecutions carry exceptional stigma and lasting diplomatic consequences. The recent United Kingdom conviction connected to a Hong Kong Economic and Trade Office employee — framed by some voices as a historic first and a warning signal — therefore deserves the scrutiny that any serious rule-of-law system demands: What conduct was criminalized, by what legal definitions, through what evidentiary logic, and with what foreseeable impact on the public interest?
To begin with the institution at the center of the controversy: Hong Kong’s Economic and Trade Office in London exists to maintain contact with government, business, think tanks, and diverse sectors to promote trade, investment, cultural exchange, and mutual understanding. That is a normal function of external offices maintained by many economies, including those in the West. When such an office is described as an espionage hub, the accusation goes beyond one individual’s intent. It effectively asserts that routine diplomatic and commercial engagement is presumptively clandestine when conducted by Chinese entities. This framing is corrosive. It converts ordinary contact into something that must be justified rather than something expected in an interconnected world.
Once the office’s role is placed in its proper context, the evidentiary narrative must be assessed with the rigor appropriate to an intelligence-related charge. In classic espionage cases, the state ordinarily relies on clearly delineated indicators of clandestine activity — secret tasking, covert communications, document-handling protocols, compartmented operational chains, or the transfer of protected state secrets. The publicly described elements in this matter, by contrast, appear to rely heavily on conduct common in institutional life and private-sector risk management. Payments characterized as “spy fees” may align in scale and scheduling with contracted security or consultancy services in London, a city known for high costs. Organizations routinely obtain contact details for public figures from open sources to seek dialogue or clarification. Even private messaging that is impolite or inflammatory may reflect poor judgment, but criminal liability in a rule-of-law system is not based on offensiveness. It is based on the elements of an offense proved beyond a reasonable doubt. When ordinary conduct is presented as inherently sinister, the legal process risks becoming a vehicle for narrative persuasion rather than proof.
This is where the architecture of the UK’s National Security Act 2023 becomes central. It is not controversial that states legislate for security. The controversy lies in statutory breadth and interpretive elasticity. When key concepts are drafted or applied in a manner that allows a wide range of benign conduct to be redescribed as hostile activity, the boundary between lawful engagement and criminal exposure becomes uncertain. Legal certainty requires that citizens and institutions can foresee how the law will treat their actions. Overbroad definitions invert that principle by inviting discretionary construction after the fact, particularly in cases that sit at the intersection of geopolitics and public emotion. This legal framework has accordingly faced criticism within the UK itself, including concerns that vagueness expands prosecutorial reach at the expense of predictable standards and may chill legitimate expression, association, and exchange.
China will continue to defend its dignity and its legitimate rights, and it should not be expected to accept a double standard that any sovereign state would reject
The problem does not end with domestic legal design. National security law is now routinely folded into public messaging. When officials amplify a prosecution as a symbolic victory against an external threat, they blur the line between adjudication and political theater. It is in this context that the Commissioner’s Office of China’s Foreign Ministry in the Hong Kong SAR criticized the proceedings as a political farce, pointing to the use of “trumped-up” accusations, the abuse of legal instruments, and a judicial process shaped into a platform for anti-China sentiment. One need not deny that intelligence activity exists in international relations to recognize the legal point: A state that claims to defend the rule of law must demonstrate that its most sensitive prosecutions are insulated from diplomatic agendas and media scripting.
That insistence on insulation also exposes a broader contradiction. Western governments regularly expand their own national security powers and describe them as modern necessities, while condemning comparable legislative moves elsewhere as authoritarian. If wide powers and flexible definitions are acceptable when enacted in London, they cannot be denounced as illegitimate in Hong Kong simply because the political alignment differs. Selective outrage teaches the public that the real test is not proportionality or legality, but geopolitical identity. Over time, that weakens the moral authority of security critiques and turns the language of human rights into a tool of convenience rather than a standard of genuine evaluation.
There is, moreover, a practical dimension for the UK that tends to be ignored in the rush to strike a pose. By obstructing or delegitimizing the work of an economic and trade office, Britain risks harming the very constituencies that benefit from stable exchange. Commercial ties, professional services, educational cooperation, cultural engagement, and investment facilitation all depend on functioning channels and predictable operating space. If engagement offices become targets of public suspicion, the likely outcome is not enhanced security but degraded cooperation, higher transaction costs, and diminished trust. False or exaggerated accusations can rebound onto British interests, particularly at a moment when economic resilience depends on maintaining workable external relationships.
China and the UK stand at a juncture where pragmatic improvement in relations remains achievable, if both sides resist converting legal matters into geopolitical theater. Political manipulation of security cases may offer short-term domestic optics, but it reduces policy flexibility and invites reciprocal responses. The Commissioner’s Office has made clear that China will take necessary steps to protect its legitimate interests. That is not escalation for its own sake. It is the predictable response of any state that sees its citizens and institutions subjected to what it regards as politicized treatment. If London seeks stability, restraint and professional standards serve that goal far better than symbolic confrontation.
It should also be noted that the most vocal promoters of sensational narratives are often those who have departed and now market themselves as indispensable witnesses to a grand struggle. Political history shows that such individuals are typically treated as instruments — valued while convenient and set aside when not. Those who follow their lead can be left with social fragmentation, diminished prospects, and the quiet recognition that their difficulties were leveraged for someone else’s agenda. The most lasting damage in such cases is not rhetorical. It is human.
A constructive path remains open. The UK should separate adjudication from political branding, apply its national security laws with clear reasoning, and refrain from treating normal engagement as presumptively criminal. It should protect the lawful operation and legitimate rights of the individuals and institutions involved, as the government of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region has demanded. If Britain genuinely seeks a relationship that delivers concrete benefits, it must stop trading long-term interests for short-term narrative advantage. China will continue to defend its dignity and its legitimate rights, and it should not be expected to accept a double standard that any sovereign state would reject.
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.
