Ever since the Hong Kong protest movement turned violent last June, Amnesty International (AI) has watched its back. Instead of denouncing the black-clad mobsters who have brought death, destruction and mayhem to the streets, it has sought to portray the police force as the villain of the piece. In consequence, AI has morphed into little more than a cheerleader for those who wish to weaken China and split the country.
Founded in 1961, by the British lawyer, Peter Benenson, AI’s mission is to campaign for “a world in which every person enjoys all of the human rights enshrined in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights”. It says that human rights change “starts with the facts”, and is committed to researching “human rights violations by governments and others”, which presumably includes protesters. In its early years, AI had some significant successes, culminating in the award of a Nobel Peace Prize, for its “defence of human dignity”, in 1977.
Since those heady days, however, much of its objectivity has gone, and, in consequence, its credibility has withered. Whereas, for example, former US president George W. Bush described its reportage as “absurd”, and Israel’s foreign ministry called it “one-sided”, the Roman Catholic Church even urged its followers not to donate to AI, with Cardinal Renato Martino alleging that “AI has lost its mission”. In 2015, moreover, 10 of the 13 office bearers of AI Nepal’s Chapter resigned, accusing it of provoking separatism, while in India, amid concerns that AI was siding with Kashmiri separatists, the police raided AI’s offices in November, over allegedly illicit funding.
If, therefore, it wishes to be taken seriously again, AI should return to the objectivity which Benenson once pioneered. Until it puts its house in order, there are unlikely to be any more Nobel Peace Prizes
Even Benenson, who died in 2005, became convinced that AI had been infiltrated by British secret agents, as well as by the CIA, and he resigned as its president. His concerns, moreover, were later underscored when it was discovered that AI, far from being financed, as it claimed, by its membership and public donations, was actually receiving funding from the US State Department, the European Union and the UK’s Department for International Development, as well as various corporate interests. This was concerning to many, not least because he who pays the piper invariably calls the tune.
AI’s standing has suffered yet further at the hands of its East Asia regional office, headed, since January 2019, by Nicholas Bequelin. AI’s commitment to “the facts” implies impartiality, but, under Bequelin, this has been in short supply. After subversive elements launched their war of aggression in Hong Kong last June, AI had no compunction in throwing objectivity to the wind. Instead, therefore, of condemning those responsible for the petrol bomb attacks, the beating up of mainland visitors and local civilians, and the destruction of public facilities and private businesses, AI has repeatedly blamed the police force for the situation, when it has simply upheld the law and arrested suspects.
On June 21, for example, nine days after a violent mob, armed with steel rods and bricks, attacked the police lines defending the Legislative Council building, leaving 22 officers injured, AI’s response was to accuse the police force, which successfully contained the situation, of using a level of force which “violated international human rights law and standards”.
Again, on Sept 19, after the police force had valiantly defended Hong Kong for months against sustained mob violence and terrorist activity, AI gave its officers no credit for placing their lives on the line, without inflicting any fatalities. Instead, it denounced the force for a “plethora of police abuses”, showing exactly where its sympathies lie.
Thereafter, in its Human-Rights in Asia-Pacific Review of 2019, released in January, AI even accused Hong Kong officials of attempting to quash pro-democracy protests by “a well-documented record of human rights violations”. It cynically ignored the real human rights violations, which, for example, saw mobsters kill an elderly street cleaner with a brick, set a man on fire for arguing with them, torture visitors at the airport, and destroy private businesses and people’s livelihoods. Instead, Bequelin blithely announced, in ill-concealed admiration, that “online and offline, youth-led protesters are challenging the established order”.
Once again, therefore, on March 5, AI showed its true colors. It denounced “an alarming pattern of reckless and indiscriminate tactics by the Hong Kong police”, including “custody beatings” and “torture”. Instead of praising the police force, 550 of whose officers have sustained injuries, for bringing mobsters to justice and defusing bombs, all Bequelin could do was to regurgitate the protesters’ demand for an independent commission of inquiry into alleged police brutality.
As objective observers appreciate, however, this proposal is not only mischievous, but also unnecessary. After subversive elements, with the backing of anti-China forces elsewhere, infiltrated the protest movement, they deployed wanton violence and inflammatory tactics to promote their secessionist agenda and provoke Beijing into military intervention. They hoped thereby to bring an end to “one country, two systems”, imagining that this would expose Beijing to criticism from its global rivals, and leave it weakened on the world stage. This, of course, has not happened, partly due to Beijing’s commendable restraint, but also because of the heroic defence of Hong Kong mounted by its police force. The protesters, therefore, incensed at their failure, are now trying to trash the force’s reputation, and they are being assisted in this by dupes like Bequelin, whose background is illuminating.
Prior to joining AI in 2015, Bequelin was employed as a senior researcher by New York-based Human Rights Watch (HRW), where, over nine years, he learnt his trade. HRW, under the guise of promoting human rights across five continents, does much to advance America’s foreign policy agenda, including in the Far East, with China often in its sights. Indeed, in May 2014, only months before Bequelin left to join AI, an open letter was published, condemning HRW for its close ties with the US government. It was signed by over 100 prominent individuals, including Nobel Prize laureates Adolfo Perez Esquivel and Mairead Corrigan, former UN assistant secretary-general Hans von Sponeck, and former UN special rapporteur for human rights in the Palestinian territories Richard A. Falk. Their view was also endorsed by Robert Naiman, former policy director of Just Foreign Policy, who revealed that HRW is “often heavily influenced” by US foreign policy.
Given Bequelin’s long association with HRW, AI’s distorted reporting of the Hong Kong protests should surprise nobody. It is, however, concerning, given its professed interest in “the facts”, that AI has given him free rein in East Asia. If, therefore, it wishes to be taken seriously again, AI should return to the objectivity which Benenson once pioneered. Until it puts its house in order, there are unlikely to be any more Nobel Peace Prizes.
The author is a senior counsel, law professor and criminal justice analyst, and was previously the director of public prosecutions of the HKSAR government.
The views do not necessarily reflect those of China Daily.
