June 6, 2001

LAST WEEK, the Hong Kong edition of the China Daily carried this item at a bottom corner of its front page: "France passes anti-xx law." Wink, wink, nudge, nudge Mr. Tung. Hong Kong Chief Executive Tung Chee-hwa lately has been expressing some awe-inspiring profundities about the Falun Gong movement, such as finding it more or less bearing some characteristics of a [slanderous term omitted]." Mr. Tung, taking his cue from Beijing, in turn has had his own vibes picked up by Hong Kong's chief secretary, who warned that "a responsible government has to consider cautiously all the options available." Ergo, the administration reportedly has been looking at anti-xx laws from abroad, and is said to have been paying particular attention to the development of the French law. And what a terrible idea this all is, given what laws are supposed to be and what threat the Falun Gong actually poses.

Laws exist in order to adjudicate between competing rights, as well as lesser entitlements. The greatest of rights is that of life -- all others flow from this. The right to life is non-negotiable. The rest, however, are hierarchical, and which ones take a higher precedence over which others and in what situation is what jurisprudence is about. Within this calculus, laws are meant to deter a person from overstepping the bounds of his rights by the threat of punishment.

Now consider the Falun Gong in Hong Kong. It has harmed no one; it threatens no one; it does not call for revolution or the overthrow of anyone anywhere. The Falun Gong is a law-abiding group with no discernible intention of being otherwise, no wicked design on the rights of others or the good of the many. And what a bother this must be for anyone fretting about the group's presence in Hong Kong. But if the Falun Gong movement hasn't and won't break any normal law, then by golly perhaps there ought to be a law against breathing. Or at least deep breathing. The problem with this is obvious. It criminalizes normal behaviour and impinges on the natural right of man to hold his faith in good conscience and to practise its tenets freely.

As for any example to be taken from the French law, apart from its implicit bad faith much of it is just plain silly. The worst of its original provisions thankfully wasn't adopted: the criminal offence of "mental manipulation." Parents with toddlers would have needed to watch themselves. But that this provision was even seriously considered, though, shows the wobbly ground on which such a law stands.

By admitting that it would even consider a similar law, whatever its specific form, Hong Kong is saying that it believes jurisprudence to be malleable, that law-abiding individuals or groups that are an irritant may find themselves corralled by new laws: Conform or else. Through such an apparent predisposition, the government belies its dedication to the liberalism supposedly guaranteed by "one country, two systems." To begin to repair faith in its dedication requires that it not only reject any attempt to incriminate the innocent, but to aver that a "responsible government" will never try to legislate paranoia. Otherwise, a Hong Kong that aspires to be a "world city," instead only shows itself to be provincial and close-minded.