How China’s New National Security Law Subverts Hong Kong’s Cherished Rule of Law

The decision of China’s ruling council to impose a national security law on Hong Kong goes against the territory’s own mini-constitution.

Tensions are running high in Hong Kong at a decision by China’s ruling body, the National People’s Congress (NPC), authorising its standing committee to draft a national security law for Hong Kong. The decision, drafted in secret, is likely to become law by August.

It should never have come to this. Article 18 of Hong Kong’s Basic Law – the territory’s de facto mini-constitution that came into effect after the British handover in 1997 – specifically limited Beijing from applying national laws to the territory, except in matters of defence and foreign affairs. The NPC decision changes all that. It not only authorises the standing committee to draft such a law, it allows the law to be inserted into Hong Kong’s Basic Law by promulgation.

This completely by-passes the Legislative Council, the law-making body of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region (HKSAR) government, and creates new national security crimes. It talks, for example, of “unflinchingly” preventing, stopping and punishing any conduct that seriously endangers national security, such as separatism, subversion of state power, or organising and carrying out terrorist activities. Any activities by foreign and overseas forces that interfere “in any fashion” in the affairs of Hong Kong, and any overseas forces that use Hong Kong to carry out “separatist, subversive, infiltrative or destructive activities”, will be punished.

Articles 3 and 4 of the decision also specifically reiterate the HKSAR’s obligation to enact its own national security law. Hong Kongers thus face the dubious prospect of having not one but two national security laws.

Unilateral decision

The US Secretary of State, Mike Pompeo, claimed the NPC’s decision means Hong Kong is no longer politically autonomous from mainland China. The US will could now revoke the special status it accords Hong Kong, and which gives it favourable trading terms. This, married with further US sanctions, is a threat to China’s economy. Worse still, it would be fatal to Hong Kong’s standing as one of the world’s major financial centres.

Also read: Hong Kong No Longer Deserves Special US Status, Pompeo Says

Under a 1984 Joint Sino-British Declaration, Britain retains a watching brief, sanctioned by an international treaty lodged with the UN. Once upon a time, such treaties meant something. Despite this, apart from a few stalwart voices, the UK’s initial response was muted, despite the fact that Hong Kong was a British colony until 1997. However, on May 28, the NPC decision finally prompted the British government to offer 300,000 Hong Kongers sanctuary in the form of the right to live in the UK.

With China becoming a political hegemon as well as an economic powerhouse, its leaders feel able to unilaterally declare the joint declaration obsolete, bar British critics from entering Hong Kong, and denounce all foreign criticism as foreign interference.

US Secretary of State Mike Pompeo. Photo: Reuters

Chipped away

It would be a mistake to see the NPC’s decision as just another aspect of the US-China trade war. It comes after a series of protracted and increasingly unsuccessful attempts by the Chinese Communist Party (CPC) to capture the hearts and minds of Hong Kong people. There was a short window, just after the 1997 handover, when optimism was high and this goal might have been feasible.

But the years since 1997 have been marked by sniping attacks on Hong Kong’s legal system, chipping away at what Hong Kongers see as the territory’s core value: the rule of law. Its independent judges have been termed “administrators” who must toe the party line. Retiring judges have spoken of the impending demise of the rule of law.

Since 1997, the Chinese government’s response to popular protest has been single-minded and blunt repression. Invariably, such conflagrations leave only two escape routes: submission or retraction.

This is what happened in 2003, when HKSAR government first proposed a national security law, as it was obliged to do under Article 23 of the Basic Law. This aimed to prohibit any act of treason, secession, sedition or subversion against the Chinese government.

The broad, sweeping nature of its provisions, which included the prohibition of foreign political organisations or bodies from conducting political activities within the region, caused a storm of protest – on July 1 2003, over 500,000 people demonstrated against the proposal. After a standoff, it was eventually withdrawn.

The NPC latest decision reveals that while the 2003 bill was gone, it was not forgotten. Frustrated with the inability of the HKSAR government to pass such legislation, China secretly planned its own law. In the meantime, it nibbled away at some of Hong Kong’s other legal defences.

In 2019, the HKSAR government was pressured by Beijing to introduce a new extradition law. Overnight, Hong Kong, once seen as a city of law, became a city of street battles. The massed ranks of para-military police, equipped with tear gas, pepper spray, water cannons and rubber bullets, openly fought protesters on the streets.

Riot police officers detain a demonstrator during a protest against the second reading of a controversial national anthem law in Hong Kong, May 27, 2020. Photo: Reuters/Tyrone Siu

There was violence from both protesters and the police, but while numerous by-standers and protesters felt the full force of the HKSAR’s legal and para-military capability, demands for an independent inquiry into police conduct have been rejected by Carrie Lam, Hong Kong’s chief executive. My own phone buzzed with messages from former students caught up in events: one messaged that the friend standing beside her had just been hit in the stomach with a rubber bullet. My former student was acting as a frontline medic and, though clearly identified as such, was forced “run for her life” from the police.

Beijing deemed her and others like her “subversives”, “secessionists”, and “terrorists”. This word has now been added to the lexicon of crimes by the NPC’s new decision, reflecting China’s recent predilection for defining its opponents as “terrorists”.

Ignoring the international order

The NPC decision states that China will oppose “foreign interference” in Hong Kong and will punish foreign forces which use Hong Kong to carry out “separatist, subversive, infiltrative or destructive activities”. In their own struggle for power before 1949 this is exactly how Chinese communists used Hong Kong. Ever since then they have worried that their enemies would also use the territory as a “base for subversion” to overthrow the communist regime. It is perhaps no wonder, then, that given the domestic and international challenges to President Xi Jinping’s authoritarian regime, China sees the Hong Kong protests through a lens of paranoia about the rest of the world.

The NPC decision does not prohibit sedition, treason, theft of state secrets, or ties with foreign political organisations. But it would be naive to think that the new law will ignore such activities. The NPC’s decision also states that bodies such as the Ministry of State Security will be allowed to operate in Hong Kong – which could mean spying on schools, universities, the media and monitoring people’s personal social media accounts for any sign of dissent.

The possibility that the new national security crimes may violate the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights can no longer be relied upon to check China’s intentions. As its dismissal of the Joint Sino-British Declaration suggests, China feels able to disregard laws it sees as against its interests. On Hong Kong as elsewhere, Beijing is prepared to challenge the rules-based international order.

Carol Anne Goodwin Jones, Reader, Birmingham Law School, University of Birmingham

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Hong Kong: How the Police Trained for Riots

The violence in Hong Kong in recent weeks has led to fears that Beijing is gearing up for a crackdown against the protesters.

Hong Kong’s controversial extradition bill, the catalyst for three months of protests, was officially withdrawn on September 3 by Carrie Lam, Hong Kong’s beleaguered chief executive. Its withdrawal was a key demand of protesters, concerned it could lead to extraditions to mainland China.

But in her recorded television address, Lam refused to give way on the protesters’ other demands – notably for an independent inquiry into alleged police brutality. However, she did appoint two new members to the government’s Independent Police Complaints Council panel which is currently investigating the violence.

The violence in Hong Kong in recent weeks has led to fears that Beijing is gearing up for a crackdown against the protesters. Direct intervention by Chinese forces is permitted under the Basic Law, Hong Kong’s “mini-constitution”, if Hong Kong declares a state of emergency – which it hasn’t yet done. The garrison of China’s People’s Liberation Army stationed in central Hong Kong was recently reinforced and the People’s Armed Police has been seen massing and drilling just over the border in Shenzhen. This lends credence to what the protestors see as a “last stand” to save the city they call home.

Also read: Hong Kong Protesters Call on Trump to ‘Liberate’ City

Hong Kongers are used to a home where the rule of law, rather than the law of the ruler, prevails. This is a legacy of riots in 1956, 1966 and 1967, when the Hong Kong police force adopted an increasingly paramilitary character.

Following the 1967 riots, however, the rule of law, human rights and liberalism became the touchstone of government legitimacy. From the 1970s onwards, it engaged in a swathe of welfare, educational, and legal reforms designed to rebuild links with the community and trust in the police. As I’ve outlined in my own research, the strategy worked. Hong Kong came to be regarded as a stable, peaceful, prosperous and orderly society, its 30,000-strong police force a trusted and friendly guardian.

Ready for riots

Behind the scenes, however, the police force strengthened its anti-riot capability. Since 1958, it has invested in a specially trained paramilitary unit, the Police Tactical Unit, based in Fanling – whose training ground was shared with mainland forces just before 1997. Besides such specialist squads, all members of the Hong Kong police are trained to kit-up and be riot-ready within 11 minutes, giving the police an extraordinary force-wide public order capability.

The classified Hong Kong Riot Training Manual – copied by the UK’s Metropolitan Police and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police – sets out the sequence of public order policing. Traditionally, tear gas has been the weapon of first choice, the intention being to encourage the crowd to disperse along routes deliberately left open by the police. A visual and audible warning is given in Chinese and English. In order to prevent individual officers from being captured by the crowd, going into the crowd to effect an arrest was discouraged. Regular riot training instilled such practices across the entire force.

But the 2019 protests have taken the police response to another level. Though China blames “foreign forces” for fomenting the 2019 protests, they are grounded in domestic issues. A wiser government might have adopted a more hands-off approach from the start, but instead, the government deployed the police in paramilitary formation, using tear gas, water cannon, rubber bullets, and pepper spray to deter the demonstrators.

Also read: Hong Kong: Ahead of Planned Protests, Police in Position at Airport

Predictably, this hasn’t worked: a cycle of protest, repression and further protest developed. The return to a hardline approach stems from police handling of the 2014 mass protest known as the Occupy Central or Umbrella Movement. Under pressure to end weeks of peaceful protest, the then-commissioner of police, Andy Tsang Wai-hung, and his deputy, Alan Lau, sanctioned the use of tear gas against the protesters. Hong Kong was in shock. A generation brought up to respect the police could not believe that “their” police force was now using such repressive tactics against them.

Nicknamed the “vulture”, Tsang already had a reputation as a hardliner. Said to be held in high regard within the police force, he nevertheless became a highly divisive figure. His retirement in 2015 was an opportunity for the government to appoint a more conciliatory police commissioner, Stephen Lo, to heal the divisions between police and society.

But in an unprecedented move, the force brought Tsang’s former deputy Lau out of retirement on a temporary contract specifically to handle the 2019 protests. Lau has continued Tsang’s “gloves off” approach.

As a force with its origins in colonial days, the Hong Kong police is an arm of the state: individual officers have no individual constabulary power. They must obey orders even when they think they are unjustified. In 2019, this has meant obeying orders to fire tear gas while deliberately blocking routes of dispersal. They have also fired tear gas in closed or confined spaces, contrary to international standards which only permit its use in open spaces.

Police have also fired rubber bullets at close range, and gone into crowds with batons raised. In two incidents, officers have fired live ammunition in the air as warning shots. A special unit – the “raptor squad” – has been designated to work undercover to target high-profile activists and detain them at a special detention centre at San Uk Ling, near the mainland border.

The capture of police violence on mobile phone video and social media has not reined in the violence. Instead, the fact that the police are prepared to be filmed using such brutal tactics shows they understand they are immune from redress.

Hard to regain trust

However, the protesters remain resilient and undeterred. They too have learned lessons from 2014 – they are leaderless by design, both to prevent the police picking off the movement’s leaders and any falling out among different factions. They regularly outwit the police with their “like water” approach, inspired by Bruce Lee, dissolving away before the police arrive only to pop-up unexpectedly elsewhere. Their ingenuity and creativity have captured the public’s imagination.

Also read: What Makes Srinagar the World’s New ‘Forbidden City’

The government’s repressive approach, by contrast, is backfiring. Many who might otherwise stay at home have been so angered by the government’s policing tactics that they too now come out in protest. They scan all walks of life, from housewives to lawyers, accountants and businesspeople, and school and university students – and their orderly conduct undermines Beijing’s depiction of them as a violent, radical mob.

Frontline police officers not only face fatigue but doubts about the wisdom of exposing their families to public antagonism, as they continue to follow orders to fire tear gas into crowds which may contain neighbours, friends and relatives. The trust in police and rulers painstakingly built up in the aftermath of 1967 is being undone, and it is hard to see how it can be regained.

Carol Anne Goodwin Jones, Reader, Birmingham Law School, University of Birmingham

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.