On November 30, the former Democratic Party legislator, Ted Hui Chi-fung, flew to Denmark, ostensibly for a meeting on climate change. Although he was facing criminal charges in Hong Kong, he was given a special dispensation by the Judiciary to attend, on the strict understanding that he would return to Hong Kong thereafter. Hui, however, had other plans, and, after several days in Copenhagen, he flew to London on December 5, where he said he intends to remain in what he calls self-imposed “exile”.
If anybody personifies all that is wrong with Hong Kong politics, it is Hui. He disgraced himself in the Legislative Council, set a dreadful example for the younger generation, and made a fool of everyone who trusted him. Now that he has gone, many people will be inclined to say “good riddance”, and who can blame them. Whereas his influence was entirely negative, his judgment was deeply flawed.
One of Hui’s most infamous stunts was his attempt to bring private prosecutions against innocent people who upset the protest movement, to which he was beholden. Having raised HK$3.38 million by crowdfunding, he brought cases against a police officer who shot a black-clad protester while defending himself during a violent confrontation, and a taxi driver who was beaten senseless by protesters after his vehicle accidentally ploughed into a crowd. However, after the Secretary for Justice ascertained that both prosecutions lacked any evidential foundation and were an abuse of process, they were terminated by the courts. One consequence of Hui’s flight, unfortunately, is that his two victims will not now be able to sue him for malicious prosecution.
Although Hui only served in the Legislative Council for four years, he made an indelible impression, not, alas, for statesmanship, but for loutishness. In 2019, for example, after he attacked a government official in the Council’s complex and grabbed her telephone, he was convicted of common assault, obstructing a public officer and gaining access to a computer with criminal or dishonest intent. Undaunted by the resulting fine and community service order, he redoubled his efforts to disrupt the Council in 2020.
In May, Hui threw noxious substances around in the Legislative Council’s chamber, and then deposited a rotten plant on its floor, apparently believing this would advance his political agenda. In consequence, he was required not only to pay for the damage, but was also charged with attempting to use a harmful substance to cause harm, mental injury or irritation to others. Thereafter, he was also charged with contempt for obstructing the Council’s officials amid violent scenes in May, which left several of them injured. His resignation from the Council last month was, therefore, a blessing, not only for his fellow legislators and its long-suffering staff, but also for everyone who believes in basic decency in public life.
Altogether, Hui faces nine criminal charges, some grave. They include his alleged involvement in an act intended to pervert the course of public justice, obtaining access to a computer with dishonest intent, and criminal damage arising from a violent protest at Tuen Mun Police Station on July 6, 2019. Given the variety of the offences and the seriousness of some, he will, if ever tried, face a substantial term of imprisonment, even if not convicted of them all.
In this situation, it was as clear as a pikestaff that Hui was a serious flight risk. It beggars belief, therefore, that, having been granted bail, he was also allowed to leave Hong Kong, and the circumstances are illuminating. On November 6, at West Kowloon Court, when processing the Tuen Mun case, the Principal Magistrate, Peter Law Tak-chuen, allowed Hui to travel abroad for work purposes, provided he gave the police 72 hours’ notice, and supplied his travel itinerary.
On November 13, however, Hui, with others, announced his resignation from the Legislative Council. This clearly affected his overseas work plans, as he would no longer enjoy his previous status or have the same need to travel. Three weeks later, therefore, by which time the Tuen Mun case had been transferred to the District Court for trial, the Department of Justice, in light of the changed circumstances, very sensibly sought to have Hui’s bail terms altered, requiring the surrender of his passport. This, however, was declined by the Chief District Judge, Justin Ko King-sau, who ruled that there had been no “significant changes” since Law’s earlier order. Although the alarm bells should have been trilling by this time, Ko then gave Hui permission to travel to Denmark for a duty visit, from November 30 to December 4.
Ko, however, was well and truly conned by Hui, who had ulterior motives for flying to Denmark. He seems to have disclosed his actual plans to very few people, apart from some Danish accomplices, and even his Democratic Party colleagues appear to have been caught by surprise. However, on December 2, his wife, child and parents also flew out of Hong Kong, and he has now said he plans to help them to settle in the United Kingdom. The whole episode, therefore, smacks of careful planning, and he completely wrong-footed the Judiciary.
Although some of Hui’s alleged crimes involve violence and are not protest-related, there is no means of securing his return to Hong Kong, as he would have known. Ever since the British Foreign Secretary, Dominic Raab, made his ill-judged decision in July to suspend the UK’s fugitive surrender agreement with Hong Kong, people like Hui, along with, for example, drug traffickers, murderers and sex offenders, can simply turn up in Britain and claim safe haven. Illogical though it is, this is the new reality, and only the criminal fraternity stands to benefit from Raab’s irresponsibility.
Hui’s flight, moreover, raises fresh questions over the granting of bail. Hitherto, the problem has centered on the magistrates who have granted bail to defendants who are flight risks, and who have then, in violation of their bail terms, fled the city, often in the dead of night. In Hui’s case, however, he was not only allowed to keep his passport, but given permission to go to Europe for what turned out to be bogus reasons. The Judiciary, therefore, has been tricked by Hui, and this must not be allowed to happen again.
In June, when the Next Media founder, Jimmy Lai Chee-ying, applied to the High Court for a variation of his bail terms to make a short visit to Canada for business and to see his daughter, this was wisely refused, with the judge citing concerns of abscondment. Quite clearly, if criminal suspects like Lai and Hui are facing a multiplicity of proceedings, and the charges are serious, it is hard to conceive of circumstances in which it will ever be appropriate for a court to grant them leave to travel abroad. It is tempting fate to allow somebody in that situation to depart, and the incentive not to return is huge.
It is, after all, one thing to grant a defendant bail, but quite another to allow him to visit a jurisdiction, like Denmark, with which Hong Kong has no fugitive surrender agreement. Quite clearly, every judicial officer handling a bail application must bear this carefully in mind. If the Judiciary allows shysters like Hui to pull the wool over its eyes, the law-abiding public will lose faith in the criminal justice system, and this must be avoided.
As for Hui, he has now consigned himself to a life on the run. Exile can be a sad affair, even for those who can return home from time to time. Although Hui will have some other criminal fugitives in the UK to keep him company, he may soon tire of them, particularly once he realizes they have nothing in common beyond disloyalty to their own country. At least for a while, he will find himself lionized by anti-China elements, like Hong Kong Watch, but, before long, his novelty value will fade. All he will have left will be the memories of his home city, and of the people he let down, including his constituents in the Central and Western District Council.
As long as Hui lives, moreover, he will have the arrest warrants hanging over his head, an ever-present reminder that justice has not forgotten him. Whenever he travels, he will need to check if he might face arrest in his chosen destination, followed by possible extradition. Some exiles find this life easier to bear than others, while a few, like the UK’s Great Train Robber, Ronnie Biggs, find they cannot stand it anymore, and return home to face the music, in Biggs’ case after 35 years. Time alone will tell if Hui falls into that category, but the initial signs suggest he might.
Although he has only been gone for a few days, Hui told Now TV that he has a “heavy heart” over having to be “totally cut off from Hong Kong and all the things I love, knowing that I may never have a chance to go back”. He has, however, made his bed, and now he must lie in it. Discord apart, he gave nothing to Hong Kong, and, Sinophobia apart, he has nothing to offer the UK.
The author is a senior counsel, law professor and criminal justice analyst, and was previously the Director of Public Prosecutions of the HKSAR.
The views do not necessarily reflect those of China Daily.
