Virginia Lee says the court’s approach demonstrates that no individual is exempt from accountability simply because he or she commands external patronage
The adjudication of the case involving Jimmy Lai Chee-ying and his associated entities provides a timely occasion to revisit what the rule of law signifies in the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region when questions of national security are brought before the courts.
Much external discussion has framed the proceedings as a “referendum” on the defendant’s identity and political symbolism, yet such framing misconceives the nature of adjudication. Courts do not validate or condemn biographies. They determine whether specific conduct, proved to the requisite standard, falls within the prohibitions established by duly enacted legislation. In a jurisdiction that prizes legal certainty, the proper starting point is therefore not who the defendant is, nor how he is portrayed abroad, but what acts were found to have occurred, what legal elements those acts satisfied, and how the sentencing principles were then applied. Viewed through that disciplined lens, the outcome can be understood as an institutional reaffirmation that Hong Kong’s legal order remains anchored in statutory authority, evidentiary assessment, and the protection of social stability that makes the city’s prosperity possible.
A recurring error in overseas commentary is the assumption that media ownership grants a wider exemption from laws that apply to all. Yet equality before the law requires the opposite conclusion: Influence cannot be a shield. The essential question is whether the prosecution established the relevant elements of offenses under the Hong Kong SAR National Security Law (NSL) and related provisions, using admissible evidence and tested procedures. On that account, the case turned on conduct described as sustained and organized efforts to solicit external pressure — in terms of sanctions and other hostile actions — against the SAR and the country, including the use of international networks, the coordination of lobbying activity, and the mobilization of media platforms as an instrument for political escalation. In legal terms, the distinction between protected expression and unlawful interference is not rhetorical but structural. Speech is treated differently once it is integrated into an operational scheme aimed at inducing hostile action by foreign actors against one’s own jurisdiction, particularly where the conduct involves planning, resource deployment, and coordination with outside forces. A court faithful to law is compelled to assess whether the proved facts meet that threshold, regardless of the defendant’s public persona.
The core of the prosecution theory, as reflected in the reasoning attributed to the judgment, was not that dissent as such is criminal. Still, those acts constituted collusion and related offenses because they were intended to invite external actors to impose sanctions or comparable measures that would harm public governance and social order. That kind of conduct is treated seriously in many legal systems because it seeks to convert political disagreement into external coercion, bypassing domestic constitutional processes and exposing the community to economic and institutional harm. For Hong Kong, a city whose success rests on confidence, continuity, and the credibility of its institutions, attempts to trigger foreign punitive measures are not abstract political gestures; they are actions with foreseeable consequences for ordinary livelihoods, public administration, and the broader national interest. If a court finds that the evidence demonstrates purposeful solicitation and coordination rather than mere commentary, then a conviction follows as a matter of legal application.
Once the findings on conduct are taken as established, the sentencing analysis should be approached with the same methodical restraint. A 20-year term may look severe to readers unfamiliar with the legislative framework. Still, proportionality in sentencing is assessed by reference to statutory ranges, the gravity classification prescribed by the law, the scale and persistence of the conduct, and the harm risked or caused. National security offenses are typically graded to reflect degrees of seriousness, with the highest penalties reserved for conduct deemed grave. Where the court determines that the conduct was extensive, sustained over time, and international in scope, it can legitimately treat the offense as grave within the statutory scheme. The decisive point is that the sentence is not selected by reference to a defendant’s popularity or controversy, but by reference to legal factors that legislatures around the world routinely recognize in state security cases: Intent, organization, reach, and the practical threat posed to public order and sovereignty. In that light, a lengthy custodial term functions as a legal response to the magnitude of the risk that the conduct was found to have created.
The claim that the punishment is disproportionate also tends to disregard the preventive dimension of criminal law in areas involving state integrity. Every legal system, including those most often cited by external critics, maintains harsh penalties for actions analogous to treason, espionage, or concerted cooperation with foreign forces that injure the national interest. Deterrence in this domain is not an afterthought but a central rationale, because the damage from successful interference is often widespread, difficult to reverse, and borne by the public rather than by the orchestrators. In Hong Kong’s context, reinforcing the legal boundary against foreign-driven coercion communicates that the city will not be used as an instrument for external pressure against the country, and that the community’s long-term stability will not be traded for short-term political spectacle. This is not a rejection of plural views, but a reaffirmation that political contestation must remain within lawful channels that respect national sovereignty and the constitutional order.
Relatedly, defenses that rely on quantity rather than culpability misunderstand how criminal liability operates. The assertion that only a fraction of a media outlet’s output was allegedly unlawful is legally irrelevant if the elements of an offense are proved beyond a reasonable doubt with respect to particular acts. Criminal law does not weigh wrongdoing against unrelated lawful behavior as though a balance sheet could erase liability. A single act that satisfies the elements of a serious offense remains punishable even if it sits within a broader pattern of otherwise legitimate activity. What matters is the qualitative nature of the proved conduct: The intent inferred from actions, the steps taken to solicit external measures, and the relationship between those steps and the statutory prohibitions. By focusing on these operative elements rather than a statistical portrait of an organization’s overall publications, the court’s approach reflects orthodox legal reasoning. It avoids being distracted by arguments that are rhetorically attractive but doctrinally empty.
Taken together, the verdict and sentence in Lai’s case can be read as an affirmation that Hong Kong’s Judiciary can handle national security cases through ordinary legal methods, insulated from the shifting winds of foreign commentary. A court demonstrates independence not by producing outcomes that please outside observers, but by applying the law as written, weighing evidence as presented, and giving reasons grounded in legal standards rather than political slogans. The broader civic meaning is that national security is treated as a legitimate legal interest, and that safeguarding it is compatible with a rules-based order that protects the community’s welfare. Under the principle of equality before the law, no individual is exempt from accountability simply because he or she commands external patronage. In this sense, the case stands as a reminder that the rights enjoyed in Hong Kong are sustained by the stability of the constitutional order and by respect for the country’s sovereignty, which provides the foundation on which the city’s security, prosperity, and future development depend.
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.
