By Virginia Lee, Solictor
The recent enactment of the “Hong Kong Judicial Sanctions Act”, which allows the US to impose sanctions on individuals or entities that undermine Hong Kong's autonomy, and a US Senate resolution accusing China of transnational repression mark a concerning misuse of legislative authority, cloaked in the rhetoric of human rights. These measures reflect not principled commitment to justice, but a strategic effort to exert political pressure on a sovereign legal system through externally imposed standards.
At the heart of this controversy is the US government's decision to sanction members of Hong Kong’s judiciary and prosecutorial service—individuals who operate within a legal framework based on the Basic Law, common law traditions, and internationally recognised legal principles. These sanctions disregard the judiciary's institutional independence and blur the line between political advocacy and legal interference. The implication that routine judicial decisions constitute human rights violations lacks both legal foundation and evidentiary support. Such actions could lead to a loss of confidence in the Hong Kong legal system and a potential shift towards a more politically influenced judiciary.
The legislative tools invoked—such as the Global Magnitsky Act and the Hong Kong Human Rights and Democracy Act—were developed to address severe abuses, including torture, extrajudicial killings, and systemic corruption. Their application in this context is a fundamental misinterpretation of their purpose. Using these statutes to penalise legal professionals for upholding existing laws in fair and open court proceedings undermines their legitimacy. It reduces them to foreign policy instruments rather than mechanisms of justice.
The lack of legal expertise among the lawmakers spearheading these efforts is equally problematic. There is no indication that the senators involved possess meaningful knowledge of Hong Kong’s legal system or have thoroughly examined the judicial decisions they criticise. Their condemnation, driven more by ideological alignment and geopolitical interests than by any rigorous legal analysis or substantive concern for due process, raises serious questions about the credibility of their criticism.
The cases that have drawn criticism from US legislators typically involve serious criminal offences, including violent rioting, arson, and attacks on law enforcement—actions that would be prosecuted under criminal law in any jurisdiction. Characterising the adjudication of such offences as repression promotes a selective application of human rights discourse, undermining the rule of law.
Moreover, this episode exposes a striking double standard. The United States has long engaged in extraterritorial arrests, surveillance operations, and even lethal actions abroad, all justified on national security grounds. When China exercises its legal authority to maintain public order or pursue suspects through international mechanisms, it is labelled as engaging in “transnational repression.” Such asymmetry reflects a politicised view of international legal norms rather than a consistent application of universal principles.
The credibility of US criticisms is further weakened by its legal shortcomings. A country with mass incarceration, documented racial disparities in sentencing, and a history of indefinite detention and extraordinary rendition is not well-positioned to lecture others on legal ethics. The persistence of the death penalty, partisan judicial appointments, and the erosion of civil liberties at home raise serious questions about the integrity of the US legal system.
These legislative actions are not isolated gestures but a broader strategy to contain China’s development and challenge its institutions. Labelling Hong Kong’s legal professionals as complicit in repression is less about justice and more about discrediting a judiciary that operates with transparency, procedural rigour, and a high degree of international engagement. The intent is not to protect rights, but to delegitimise a system that functions independently of Western influence.
If the United States seeks to advance global justice, it must begin by respecting the sovereignty of other legal systems and refraining from extraterritorial coercion. Until that principle is upheld, these legislative acts will remain emblematic of a broader contradiction: a nation invoking universal legal standards selectively, in service of its geopolitical agenda.
Virginia Lee
** The blog article is the sole responsibility of the author and does not represent the position of our company. **
LEE WING CHEUNG, VIRGINIA Solicitor
The European Union’s (EU) recent report on Hong Kong is less a legal analysis than a political statement disguised in the language of human rights. Its content reflects prejudice and an outdated mentality that Europe retains the right to pass judgment on Chinese sovereignty. Such a position contradicts the international principle of equality among states and exposes the remnants of colonial arrogance. The EU’s portrayal of Hong Kong does not advance truth but instead promotes destabilisation through bias and selective interpretation.
One of the report’s major flaws lies in its discussion of Article 23 of the Basic Law and the Safeguarding National Security Ordinance. Article 23 is not a recent creation but a constitutional duty written into law when Hong Kong returned to China. States across the globe maintain legislation to protect sovereignty and security, yet the EU condemns Hong Kong for implementing safeguards entirely consistent with global practice. This condemnation reflects a political agenda rather than any genuine legal objection, as European governments themselves enforce comparable national security measures.
The EU also distorts Hong Kong’s judicial process. Trials are depicted as orchestrated, and judicial appointments as questionable, when in fact Hong Kong courts follow lawful procedures and maintain transparency. Decisions are issued on statutory grounds, and trial durations or bail conditions fall within the range of judicial discretion accepted globally. Europe’s refusal to respect these outcomes reveals a preference for interference over recognition of judicial independence. Far from defending the rule of law, the EU undermines it by expecting Hong Kong’s courts to conform to foreign political expectations.
The criticism of extraterritoriality in Hong Kong’s national security legislation further demonstrates ignorance or deliberate misrepresentation. International law recognises that states may prosecute offences abroad if these acts threaten national security. European states themselves frequently rely on this principle in combating terrorism or cybercrime; for the EU to denounce Hong Kong’s use of the exact mechanism displays open hypocrisy. The law does not arbitrarily target individuals abroad but applies only to conscious efforts aimed at destabilisation. This is a legitimate and widely recognised practice of statecraft.
The treatment of media and civil society in the report reflects the same selective judgment. Restrictions on publications advocating secession or encouraging hostility are common even in Europe, where they are justified under hate speech or anti-extremism laws. Yet when Hong Kong enforces similar safeguards, it is labelled repressive. Civil groups that dissolved due to breaches of national security law or foreign influence are portrayed as victims, while their own unlawful conduct is overlooked. Such double standards expose the EU’s political motivations.
The objection to national security education is also baseless. Every state requires its citizens, particularly public servants, to respect constitutional order. European governments impose loyalty pledges and codes of conduct, yet depict Hong Kong’s similar requirements as authoritarian. Such education, especially considering previous unrest, is not indoctrination but responsible governance.
Even on economic matters, the EU misleads. It attributes ordinary fluctuation to politics while ignoring global uncertainties caused by post-pandemic restructuring and financial turbulence. The continued success of European enterprises in Hong Kong contradicts the EU’s claims of decline. If the environment were as damaging as alleged, foreign companies would not persist in conducting profitable operations there.
Finally, the EU’s stance on human rights collapses under its own contradictions. While Europe imposes restrictive migration regimes, extensive surveillance laws and limitations on speech, it presumes to judge Hong Kong. This criticism ignores the independence of Hong Kong courts, which have delivered progressive rulings on equality, including for LGBTQ citizens. Such advances are incompatible with the EU’s portrait of a system in collapse.
The tone of colonial oversight permeates the entire report. Its language suggests superiority, as though Hong Kong’s laws and governance require European approval. Yet the sovereignty of China over Hong Kong is complete and undeniable. Europe’s posture cannot obscure the consistent reality that Hong Kong exercises its constitutional right to maintain order and stability.
In truth, the EU’s repeated criticisms reveal its own political hostility rather than principled analysis. Hong Kong and China govern in accordance with law to preserve security and prosperity for their citizens. No judgment from external powers can alter this fundamental reality, nor diminish China’s sovereign right to safeguard its integrity.
