On March 4, an op-ed submitted by Dui Hua was published in the South China Morning Post. The piece was written in reaction to the recent release on parole of Hong Kong journalist Ching Cheong, with an emphasis on the Chinese government's inconsistent use and arbitrary enforcement of parole laws for political prisoners. Printed under the title, "Laws, not favours, for political prisoners," the op-ed was co-written by Executive Director John Kamm and Research and Programs Manager Joshua Rosenzweig. The full content as submitted to the South China Morning Post appears below:
Hearing that Singapore Straits Times correspondent Ching Cheong (程翔) had been released on parole earlier this month and allowed to return to Hong Kong, we noticed many similarities to the January 1997 release of Ming Pao journalist Xi Yang (席扬), who was also granted parole following an international campaign and allowed to return to Hong Kong after serving less than one third of a 12-year sentence for trafficking in state secrets. Both releases were the result of political decisions made at the highest levels in Beijing, decisions that despite being made "in accordance with the law," actually suggest more of a willingness to bend China's laws and regulations, rather than operate subject to them.
To this day, we still don't know all that went on behind the scenes prior to Xi Yang's release. Preparations were underway for a visit of President Jiang Zemin to the United States in the summer of 1997, and Xi's name headed an American list of eight cases of concern submitted to Premier Li Peng, who had taken the most interest in Xi's case. Many have speculated that Ching was released early in an effort by China's leaders to improve the country's human rights image as the clock ticks down toward the opening ceremonies of the Beijing Olympics. Both journalists' cases became causes celebres for the media in Hong Kong, and the Hong Kong government played a strong role in securing both releases.
With all of the conjecture about why Ching might have been released at this time, less attention has been paid to the peculiar manner in which the release was carried out and the unanswered legal questions that arise as a consequence. Parole is not unconditional release, which is why it is a less ideal route toward early release than either medical parole or sentence commutation. (Having a verdict in a political case overturned by a court, with a declaration of innocence, is almost unknown in China.) Chinese law subjects parolees to regular police supervision and places numerous restrictions on their rights. In fact, to the best of our knowledge, Xi Yang and Ching Cheong are the only two political prisoners who have been allowed to leave China during their parole period—with the apparent knowledge of the authorities that such legal restrictions would not be enforced.
Specifically, the provisions of the "Procedural Regulations for the Handling of Criminal Cases by the Public Security Organs" (公安机关办理刑事案件程序规定) prohibit parolees who were deprived of their political rights as part of their original punishment—which includes the majority of political offenders—from publishing books, giving interviews, making speeches, or expressing any views damaging to China's national reputation or interests. Chinese police are prohibited from issuing passports to released political prisoners until the subsequent period of political rights-deprivation brings to an end the court's original punishment (and frequently continue to do so for long thereafter on grounds of potential threats to national interests). And regulations prohibit any journalist convicted of a felony from ever receiving the necessary accreditation to work.
By allowing Ching to return to Hong Kong, Chinese officials essentially abandoned any pretense of enforcing their own parole regulations. In recent weeks, Ching has given a press conference, granted interviews, indicated plans to publish books begun during his stay in prison, and expressed his intention to continue working for the Straits Times and even his desire to cover the Beijing Olympics. There are no apparent restrictions on his ability to travel abroad. Under "one country, two systems," China presumably has no means to compel law enforcement agencies in the Hong Kong SAR to act as its agent in supervising Ching's parole. And, even if Ching were instructed to return to Guangzhou periodically to "check in" with police there, can the Chinese government—or the SAR government—oblige him to do so?
Small victories such as the early releases of Xi Yang and Ching Cheong are welcome, if opaque and arbitrary, gestures by the Chinese leadership. The question remains: will others benefit as well? Will Lu Jianhua (陆建华), serving a 20-year sentence in Beijing in connection with Ching Cheong's case, be blessed with the slightest gesture of clemency? And what of the hundreds—perhaps more than 1,000—other Hong Kong residents serving prison sentences on the mainland? Will they also enjoy the right to serve their paroles in Hong Kong? Justice demands that, as we rightly celebrate Ching Cheong's release, we do not forget them and ask the Hong Kong government to help them as it has helped in the case of Ching Cheong.
Hearing that Singapore Straits Times correspondent Ching Cheong (程翔) had been released on parole earlier this month and allowed to return to Hong Kong, we noticed many similarities to the January 1997 release of Ming Pao journalist Xi Yang (席扬), who was also granted parole following an international campaign and allowed to return to Hong Kong after serving less than one third of a 12-year sentence for trafficking in state secrets. Both releases were the result of political decisions made at the highest levels in Beijing, decisions that despite being made "in accordance with the law," actually suggest more of a willingness to bend China's laws and regulations, rather than operate subject to them.
To this day, we still don't know all that went on behind the scenes prior to Xi Yang's release. Preparations were underway for a visit of President Jiang Zemin to the United States in the summer of 1997, and Xi's name headed an American list of eight cases of concern submitted to Premier Li Peng, who had taken the most interest in Xi's case. Many have speculated that Ching was released early in an effort by China's leaders to improve the country's human rights image as the clock ticks down toward the opening ceremonies of the Beijing Olympics. Both journalists' cases became causes celebres for the media in Hong Kong, and the Hong Kong government played a strong role in securing both releases.
With all of the conjecture about why Ching might have been released at this time, less attention has been paid to the peculiar manner in which the release was carried out and the unanswered legal questions that arise as a consequence. Parole is not unconditional release, which is why it is a less ideal route toward early release than either medical parole or sentence commutation. (Having a verdict in a political case overturned by a court, with a declaration of innocence, is almost unknown in China.) Chinese law subjects parolees to regular police supervision and places numerous restrictions on their rights. In fact, to the best of our knowledge, Xi Yang and Ching Cheong are the only two political prisoners who have been allowed to leave China during their parole period—with the apparent knowledge of the authorities that such legal restrictions would not be enforced.
Specifically, the provisions of the "Procedural Regulations for the Handling of Criminal Cases by the Public Security Organs" (公安机关办理刑事案件程序规定) prohibit parolees who were deprived of their political rights as part of their original punishment—which includes the majority of political offenders—from publishing books, giving interviews, making speeches, or expressing any views damaging to China's national reputation or interests. Chinese police are prohibited from issuing passports to released political prisoners until the subsequent period of political rights-deprivation brings to an end the court's original punishment (and frequently continue to do so for long thereafter on grounds of potential threats to national interests). And regulations prohibit any journalist convicted of a felony from ever receiving the necessary accreditation to work.
By allowing Ching to return to Hong Kong, Chinese officials essentially abandoned any pretense of enforcing their own parole regulations. In recent weeks, Ching has given a press conference, granted interviews, indicated plans to publish books begun during his stay in prison, and expressed his intention to continue working for the Straits Times and even his desire to cover the Beijing Olympics. There are no apparent restrictions on his ability to travel abroad. Under "one country, two systems," China presumably has no means to compel law enforcement agencies in the Hong Kong SAR to act as its agent in supervising Ching's parole. And, even if Ching were instructed to return to Guangzhou periodically to "check in" with police there, can the Chinese government—or the SAR government—oblige him to do so?
Small victories such as the early releases of Xi Yang and Ching Cheong are welcome, if opaque and arbitrary, gestures by the Chinese leadership. The question remains: will others benefit as well? Will Lu Jianhua (陆建华), serving a 20-year sentence in Beijing in connection with Ching Cheong's case, be blessed with the slightest gesture of clemency? And what of the hundreds—perhaps more than 1,000—other Hong Kong residents serving prison sentences on the mainland? Will they also enjoy the right to serve their paroles in Hong Kong? Justice demands that, as we rightly celebrate Ching Cheong's release, we do not forget them and ask the Hong Kong government to help them as it has helped in the case of Ching Cheong.
