Monday, November 30, 2015

Ethnic Nationalism Along the China-Burma Border



A map indicating the location of the Wa population within China's Yunnan province, which borders Burma.

Ethnic Nationalism Along the China-Burma Border

China watchers are well aware of ethnic unrest involving Tibetans and Uyghurs, but little is known about independence movements and cultural rights activism among other ethnic minorities. Dui Hua research has explored the suppression of Christianity among China’s ethnic Koreans. Now, based on public security records obtained by Dui Hua (PDF 1.2MB), we expand our understanding of this topic to include the Wa and Lahu.

The Wa and Lahu primarily inhabit mountain villages along the border between China's Yunnan Province and Burma. Today there are an estimated 1.2 million Wa people worldwide, with 800,000 in Burma and 400,000 in China, and 800,000 Lahu, of whom more than half reside in China.

In the latter half of the twentieth century, authorities in Yunnan's Simao Prefecture (or present day Pu'er City) targeted the Wa and Lahu people in efforts to suppress nationalistic sentiments. Official sources trace ethnic nationalism among these groups to Zhadie (扎谍), a Wa man born in a contested territory between China and Burma in 1924. Records describe him as an overseas separatist instructed by the United States and Kuomintang to carry out counterrevolutionary activities on the mainland. (Some Kuomintang forces refused to retreat to Taiwan and instead withdrew to Burma after the Communist Party established the People’s Republic of China in 1949.)

Calling himself “old Buddha,” Zhadie saw increasing support among Burmese Wa and Lahu after the end of World War II. In 1950, he began sending his followers to Pu’er and Lincang, Yunnan, to spread the idea of establishing a Wa-Lahu nation.

Zhadie argued that Wa-Lahu independence was necessary to free the two ethnic groups from Han Chinese oppression. According to government records, one of his slogans was: “Han Chinese repress Wa. Exterminate the Han.” Early on, Zhadie likened himself to the Mao Zedong of the Wa and Lahu people. In the 1980s, he compared himself to the Dalai Lama, as the spiritual leader of Wa and Lahu in China and Burma.

The number of Zhadie's supporters is unknown. Spotty government records state that as many as 3,500 people from more than 30 Wa villages gathered in Yunnan in March 1959 to perform folk dances led by Zhadie's followers and to listen to their nationalist speeches. The government responded by saying that the villagers had been “deceived” and by reinforcing patriotic education in the area.

Between 1950 and 1961, government sources document 48 instances of infiltration associated with Zhadie. Eleven were small-scale armed rebellions or disturbances that were swiftly suppressed by the much larger joint forces of the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) and public security. The largest of these armed activities took place in June 1951. During the incident two to three hundred of Zhadie's rebels besieged the Wendong District government and kidnapped communist cadres with the support of Kuomintang forces.

Burma agreed to let the PLA fight Kuomintang forces on Burmese soil in 1961, putting Zhadie’s mainland activities on hold for approximately two decades. Zhadie’s influence diminished without the military backing of the Kuomintang, but it had a resurgence during the reform and opening in 1978.

From the mid-1980s to 1998, Simao police arrested 66 people in 20 incidents of subversion and sabotage linked to Zhadie. During the period, he made plans for a Wa-Lahu nation more concrete, stating that it would be established in the year 2000 and that he would serve as president. In March 1990, nearly 200 villagers joined his core supporters in celebrating the establishment of the “Zhadie District government” in Yunnan’s Ximeng County. Between 1991 and 1993, his supporters went to 121 Wa and Lahu villages to hand out photos of Zhadie and seals and flags of the new "regime."

It was not until the mid-1990s that China addressed the problems through diplomacy. In the spring of 1996, Chinese officials traveled to Burma's Mongmao County to meet with Zhadie, then age 72, and announce that he and his adherents had violated Chinese law. China threatened to impose sanctions on Burma and to close the border for religious worship during Chinese New Year. In response, the local Burmese government began imposing restrictions on Zhadie in 1998, greatly diminishing his influence in China.

Nonetheless, nearly ten years later, on December 27, 2006, The People's Daily named Zhadie as an overseas separatist force in Yunnan that was funded by western countries and supported by the US government and religious organizations.


Thursday, November 5, 2015

Guangdong High Court Asks Why So Few Are Found Innocent


A recently freed, wrongfully accused man becomes emotional during a 2014 interview. Credit: Nandu.com

Since 2012, Chinese legal authorities have overturned a series of high-profile convictions and taken steps to prevent miscarriages of justice, but one question is still being asked: why do Chinese courts acquit so few defendants? (In 2013, the acquittal rate rose for the first time since 2000, growing annually from six acquittals per 10,000 adjudications to seven.) Some argue that institutional support for conviction stands in the way of systemic change.

Researchers at Guangdong High People’s Court wanted to find out for themselves, conducting interviews, holding seminars, and analyzing court documents related to acquittals throughout the province. The results, which were published as a report last year, offer a fascinating view into how those within the judiciary interpret the institutional, legal, political, and social factors that shape the way Chinese courts operate.


The researchers report that, for the five years between 2008 and 2012, Guangdong courts acquitted only 198 individuals in 180 cases. This represents a mere 0.04 percent of all individuals subject to criminal decisions that took effect during the period. The great majority (86 percent) of acquittals were on grounds of insufficient evidence, with a handful of others issued for things like self-defense, mental incompetence, or defendants who were under the age of 16. Acquittals occurred in a wide variety of cases—though not in any involving state-security offenses—but were most frequent in cases of assault. The trial process typically took longer than average when it resulted in acquittal, extended in accordance with the law by both courts and prosecutors. The average length of a trial that ended in acquittal was 169 days, or about five months, with the longest stretching to 504 days and the shortest at 55.

These quantitative results are not the most interesting part of the report, in part because there are so few cases to study. Much more interesting are the authors’ observations on the factors contributing to the dearth of acquittals, the impact this has on the legal system and society at large, and what might be done to remedy the situation.

Acquittal Averse Strategies

The extremely low number of acquittals doesn’t mean that criminal prosecutions in Guangdong are rock-solid. The report points out that, when the facts of the case are unclear and evidence is insufficient, judges use a number of strategies other than acquittal. In relatively minor cases, for example, courts might work out an informal “plea bargain,” promising to hand down a non-custodial penalty (like a suspended sentence) in exchange for a defendant’s promise not to appeal. In death-penalty cases, on the other hand, a court might issue judgments “with room to maneuver” (liu you yudi caipan)—imposing a more lenient suspended death sentence that gets commuted to life imprisonment (and then, later, a fixed-term sentence) almost automatically. Appeals courts are in an even better position to shift responsibility, as they can always send cases back to a lower court for retrial rather than rule to acquit.

Another common way courts avoid acquittals is to allow the prosecution to withdraw its indictment, which it may do at any point before a verdict is announced. In some cases, this has the effect of ending the case against the defendant, but in others, the prosecution can decide to submit a new indictment or send the case back to police for additional investigation. This amounts to a waste of resources, the report says, and results in individuals being locked up for far longer than they ought to be.

The report argues that prosecutors, with the help of the courts, are abusing this provision of the Criminal Procedure Law (CPL) and that the practice needs to be more strictly regulated. For example, it recommends that prosecutors generally not be allowed to withdraw indictments for unclear facts or insufficient evidence. This is because the CPL already gives prosecutors two opportunities to request trial adjournment for additional investigation. If this is not enough, the report concludes, then the court should exercise its power to issue an acquittal. The report also suggests prohibiting prosecutors from withdrawing an indictment once investigation of the facts and evidence has begun at trial and, when withdrawal is approved, limiting prosecutors to one re-indictment.

Inside the Pressure Cooker

Why is it necessary to go through so much effort to avoid issuing acquittals? A recurring theme throughout the report is pressure. Stability-first governance campaigns and a whole system of associated performance measurements create pressures for conviction throughout the criminal justice system. Written and unwritten rules place a premium on rates of case-solving, arrest approval, and conviction as factors used to measure police or procuratorate effectiveness and can be tied to individual promotion or ranking. Since acquittals have the effect of lowering these statistics, police and prosecutors are incentivized to seek conviction and mobilize all manner of available resources to influence courts not to acquit.

As the final stop in the criminal process, courts bear the brunt of the pressure to convict that’s built into the system. As the report puts it: “The public security bureau is responsible for cooking the meal and the procuratorate for serving it. Last to come, the court has only two choices as it faces this meal—either eat up or reject all the work that the first two institutions have already put into the case.” Acquittal, in other words, puts courts in potential conflict with other local law-enforcement bodies that are expecting conviction.

In major cases, especially homicides, police often face considerable political and social pressure to bring a culprit to justice. When they do make arrests, it can lead to merit citations being publicly issued to the investigation team even before indictment, let alone conviction. If the court later acquits, not only must these citations be withdrawn, there will likely be compensation claims made against the police for wrongful detention. In some cases, the same individuals who had been rewarded for solving the case might end up facing investigation for misconduct or even criminal liability.

Prioritizing Public and Process

There are many negative consequences arising from courts’ failure to issue acquittals, according to the report. The most obvious effect is on the credibility of the courts. On this point, the report is particularly frank, warning: “the public is already deeply suspicious and dissatisfied with the [level of] fairness in our criminal justice system, and wrongful convictions are adding fuel to the fire.” They continue, stating: "Convictions based on protecting face and reducing pressure only bring momentary peace and tranquility. When and if the bomb will explode all becomes a matter of luck. But what’s certain is that, the moment the bomb goes off, the courts will suffer the heaviest casualties."

In order to prevent calamity, the report recognizes that courts must exercise their judicial powers more independently, but it provides little advice on how to do so, apart from improving awareness and understanding of the law and legal principles like the presumption of innocence. There is no mention of the "coordination” between police, procuratorates, and courts by the party’s politico-legal committees and little on the role of adjudication committees, where senior court officials get an opportunity to weigh in on how to rule in complex or important cases they have not personally heard.

In fact, the authors appear to believe that increased communication between investigators, prosecutors, and judges can help judicial authorities make their case about resolving problematic prosecutions through acquittal. They recommend, for example, having police and prosecutors sit in on adjudication committee meetings in cases where problems arise. The assumption is that this will enable the courts to exert influence over the other law-enforcement bodies as opposed to the other way around.

One thing that seems to be on the minds of the report’s authors is a responsibility system for wrongful convictions. They make the case that mistakes are inevitable within any legal system and that neither wrongful convictions nor acquittals should automatically be thought of as “mistakes” for which someone must be punished. That is what happens, they suggest, when too much emphasis is placed on outcomes without giving due weight to process.

This is especially important for judges, they argue, and requires transforming the way that judges are evaluated and how data is used. They believe that judicial statistics like conviction rates have no place in deciding promotion or professional ranking. They do, however, see value in continuing to collect statistics and conduct ongoing research in order to evaluate the performance of the criminal justice system as a whole and to boost its credibility with the public.

Thursday, September 24, 2015

Xinjiang’s State Security Prisoners: Failing to Reform (Part 2 of 2)

Twelve men accused of ESS are publicly sentenced in Yili (Ili) Kazakh Autonomous Prefecture, Xinjiang, September 18, 2008. Photo credit: iyaxin.com

In 2008 the Xinjiang Rule of Law Leading Small Group published a policy document examining a number of challenges faced by prison authorities in managing the region’s endangering state security (ESS) prisoners. The first two sections of the document, which discuss the situation facing Xinjiang prison work and the psychological profiles of ESS prisoners, are translated here. What follows is a translation of the last two sections of the document. These sections describe attitudes towards reform among ESS prisoners and methods for prisons to improve their reform work. The document emphasizes the “clear hostility” of ESS prisoners, noting that it is “extremely common” for them to resist reform.

The document observes that by concentrating ESS offenders, prisons become fertile grounds for reactionary groups to recruit members and may ultimately become targets for attack. The language used in this paper conveys the sense that prison authorities are engaged in battle with enemy forces on China’s frontier and that, in the interest of “stability above all else,” military-level investments in personnel, equipment, and facilities are necessary.

Prisons are instructed to “strategically despise all enemies but tactically take [them] seriously” and to “divide and demoralize.” In some cases, the document specifically calls for solitary confinement, fixed sleeping positions, and prohibitions on sitting.

Among the groups identified in the document as a proponent of the “three forces” of ethnic separatism, Islamic extremism, and terrorism is the East Turkestan Islamic Party (ETIP). Chinese officials have ascribed a number of bombings and hijackings to the group, which was labeled a terrorist organization by the US government in 2002. As recently as May 2015, Mettursun Eziz was sentenced to four years’ in prison for circulating religious materials produced by ETIP.




Thursday, September 17, 2015

China Adds Life Without Parole to Anti-Corruption Arsenal


The National People's Congress passes the ninth amendment to the Criminal Law in August. Credit: Chinanews.com

Just before passing the ninth amendment to the Criminal Law late last month, the Standing Committee of China’s National People’s Congress inserted a new provision. Unlike many other new provisions, including those regarding defense lawyers and capital punishment, “cults,” and protestors, this provision was not subject to public consultation. In China’s non-democratic political system, public consultation is one of the few chances for citizens to provide input into the legislative and policymaking processes. It is intended, at least in part, to reinforce popular support for the outcome.

This last-minute provision altered Article 383, which covers the offenses of corruption and taking bribes. Effective November 1, the provision authorizes courts, in certain cases, to add a condition at the time of sentencing to require an individual to spend life in prison without possibility of sentence reduction or parole. The condition may only be applied in corruption cases where the defendant received a suspended death sentence and had that sentence commuted to life imprisonment after the two-year period of reprieve. If such a condition is imposed, the convicted individual will not be eligible for clemency that is ordinarily available under law—meaning that he or she will truly be required to spend the rest of his or her life in prison.

Paving the Way to Abolition

Chinese media has emphasized the significance of this provision as part of the sweeping anti-corruption campaign that has become a signature policy of Xi Jinping. Legal experts and commentators have widely praised the move for sending a strong signal that corruption will continue to be punished severely.

Others have noted that the introduction of life without possibility of release may have wider implications for abolishing the death penalty in China. Public attitudes toward the death penalty are complex and context-dependent, but continued popular support for capital punishment is one factor underlying the cautious and gradual approach that China’s leaders have adopted in reducing its use. Longstanding anger over rampant corruption has helped fuel public support and contributed to anxiety over efforts to strip the death penalty from many economic and non-violent offenses.

Part of this anxiety is rooted in the belief that the death penalty is the only punishment severe enough to deter the most serious crimes. However, in recent years, policies aimed at gradual abolition have led to fewer and fewer death sentences in corruption cases, making suspended death sentences the de facto maximum penalty. Through commutation and sentence reduction, individuals given suspended death sentences can potentially leave prison after serving terms not much longer than the maximum sentence of fixed-term imprisonment, or about 18 years. Some members of the public also worry that corrupt officials might be able to use connections or bribes to buy prison stays that are even shorter.

Given these factors, the introduction of life without parole in serious corruption cases has the potential to mitigate some of the public doubts about lenient punishment for corrupt officials. In so doing, it could also clear the way for China to eventually eliminate the death penalty for corruption. Advocates of death penalty reform anticipate that imprisoning corrupt officials for the rest of their lives would satisfy the public’s expectation of severe punishment. They also believe that in the future life without parole could be extended to other types of crime—including violent offenses.

Following a reform model often seen in China, legal reformers thus appear to have taken advantage of the current anti-corruption environment to experiment with a new kind of punishment and assess the prospects for further refinement and expansion based on practical experience.

A number of issues remain to be addressed. Zhuang Deshui, an anti-corruption expert at Peking University, points out that in order for the new measure to have its desired deterrent effect, courts must “dare” to use it. To this end, Professor Zhao Bingzhi of Beijing Normal University Law School notes that it is necessary for the Supreme People’s Court to issue a judicial interpretation setting clear guidelines for when to apply the new condition. How fairly the condition is applied will play an important role in whether the public can accept life without parole as a substitute for the death penalty.

Choosing Retribution over Rehabilitation

By choosing to deprive certain prisoners of any possibility for early release, China is giving more weight to the retributive and deterrent functions of criminal punishment than to its longstanding emphasis on rehabilitation and reform. If things continue to develop in this direction, what impact might this have on China’s criminal justice system?

Other than the United States, where in the 1980s an abrupt departure from reformative justice helped make life without possibility of commutation or parole a common sentence, very few other jurisdictions impose such categorical penalties. Elsewhere, in fact, it is more common to make possible some form of conditional release after ensuring that an individual has been imprisoned long enough to reflect the seriousness of his or her offense. This is in keeping with the United Nations Standard Minimum Rules for the Treatment of Prisoners. The rules state that the protection of society through imprisonment, and other deprivations of liberty, “can be achieved only if the period of imprisonment is used to ensure, so far as possible, the reintegration of such persons into society upon release so that they can lead a law-abiding and self-supporting life.”

In an article published just last year, Professor Zhao Bingzhi criticized life imprisonment without the possibility of sentence reduction or parole as inhumane and a violation of human dignity comparable to the death penalty itself. In a forum on death penalty reform in 2008, Zhao and other Chinese legal experts presented arguments on why life without parole was unreasonable and ill suited to China’s justice system. Now, however, these same experts appear to be embracing more stringent penalties in the interest of making it possible to do more to reduce the death penalty. Life without the possibility of release for corrupt officials may be popular with the public, but the American experience ought to serve as a warning to China that failure to strike the right balance between punishment and reform can lead to many new and serious challenges to human rights.



Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Xinjiang’s State Security Prisoners: Failing to Reform (Part 1 of 2)

Twelve men accused of ESS are publicly sentenced in Yili (Ili) Kazakh Autonomous Prefecture, Xinjiang, September 18, 2008. Photo credit: iyaxin.com

In 2008 the Xinjiang Rule of Law Leading Small Group published a policy document examining a number of challenges faced by prison authorities in managing the region’s prisoners serving sentences for endangering state security (ESS). The first two sections of the document are translated below. They discuss the climate surrounding Xinjiang prison work and the psychological profiles of ESS prisoners. The last two sections of the document, focusing on how to better reform ESS prisoners, will be translated in an upcoming post.

The document focuses on external factors, like increasing US attention to the “Xinjiang question” and the “three forces” of ethnic separatism, Islamic extremism, and terrorism. Also mentioned are internal factors, such as an insufficient number of prison police, a shortage of funds, and outdated facilities.

Over the years, Dui Hua has drawn on evidence from a variety of open-source documents to conclude that Xinjiang accounts for a considerable proportion of the nation’s ESS arrests, indictments, and trials. In 2008, Xinjiang accounted for more than 75 percent of ESS arrests and 82 percent of ESS indictments nationwide. In the first 11 months of that year, Xinjiang’s procuratorate reported that 1,295 individuals were arrested and 1,154 were indicted for ESS crimes in the region. Between 2008 and 2010, Xinjiang, which accounts for less than two percent of China’s population, accounted for 50 percent of the nation’s first-instance ESS trials. In 2013 and 2014, Xinjiang conducted about 300 ESS trials of first instance each year.

The large number of ESS cases in Xinjiang is connected to the region’s complex history; diverse population; and geo-strategic importance, bordering Russia and Central Asia on China’s northwest. The emergence of independent Central Asian states after the collapse of the Soviet Union and the spread of Islamic ideologies have heightened Chinese authorities’ concerns about stability in the region. Authorities in Xinjiang see themselves as engaging in an ongoing battle against the “three forces.” In their view, what hangs in the balance is the stability of Xinjiang and the allegiance of the region’s 10 million Uyghurs—an ethnically Turkic, culturally distinct, and predominantly Muslim people who have been the main inhabitants of the region for more than 1,000 years.

The document describes the “American Factor” as a “constant threat” to Xinjiang’s social and political stability. It mentions US support for nonviolent resistance movements, or color revolutions, in Central Asia and notes that religious extremism has flourished in countries where color revolutions occurred. US interest in human rights in Xinjiang, particularly its criticism of controversial ESS cases like that of Ilham Tohti, remains a point of contention in US-China relations. China continues to see such attention as interference in its domestic affairs, and accuses the United States of a “double standard” in combatting terrorism for its penchant to draw attention to Chinese policies that marginalize and criminalize Uyghur culture in its response to ethnic clashes in Xinjiang.

Tensions between Han Chinese and Uyghurs flare up periodically as protest. Some of the protests turn violent, as in the deadly riots that erupted in Ürümqi in July 2009. In recent years official media have reported an increasing number of violent incidents in the region. Xinjiang police counted over 190 “terrorist” attacks in 2012. Authorities have also implicated Uyghurs in incidents outside the remote western region, including Beijing’s Tiananmen car crash in October 2013 and knife attacks at Kunming and Guangzhou train stations in 2014 and 2015, respectively. Law enforcement has responded by tightening controls on religious and cultural activities and cracking down on “infiltration” by trans-national radical groups.

One of the radical groups named in the paper is Hizb ut-Tahrir, or Party of Liberation. Many countries have banned the group. Chinese government records show that a substantial proportion of ESS cases are attributed to Hizb ut-Tahrir. For example, in 2010, police in Kashgar identified 522 people for their involvement with Hizb ut-Tahrir, compared with just 47 people involved with the East Turkestan Islamic Party. That said, independent media reports documenting Hizb ut-Tahrir activity in Xinjiang are scarce.

Moving to psychological profiles, the document distinguishes different segments of Xinjiang’s ESS prisoner population by factors such as age, level of education, and exposure to religious ideas. The profiles suggest the need for differentiated strategies of “education and reform.” Prison authorities put considerable emphasis on the need to “convert” ESS offenders and replace their “bigoted” and “reactionary” ideas about ethnicity, religion, and history with proper Marxist understandings that reduce antagonism towards the party-state.




Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Draft Criminal Law Amendment Takes Aim at Defense Lawyers in China


China's National People's Congress in session in Beijing. Credit: Xinhua

One of the more controversial parts of the current proposal to amend China’s Criminal Law concerns the possible expansion of Article 309, covering the offense of “disrupting courtroom order.” Lawmakers have argued that new measures are necessary to “ensure the ability of the people’s courts to implement their adjudicatory powers in an independent and impartial manner” by punishing those who might try to use courtroom disruptions to influence judicial decision-making. They are responding to worries about a worsening atmosphere inside China’s courtrooms—particularly the sense that growing antagonism between judges and defense lawyers is helping to undermine the dignity and credibility of the courts in the public eye. Critics, on the other hand, argue that the proposal unfairly targets lawyers and will have a chilling effect on their ability to pursue vigorous defense on behalf of clients.

Few would challenge the value to society of preserving a substantial degree of courtroom order. A courtroom should be a forum in which opposing sides of a contentious issue may argue in a reasonable, if sometimes heated, manner over important matters of truth and justice. It is thus reasonable to demand that all sides adhere to a set of fair and impartial rules and standards of decorum because respect for the outcome of the judicial process is linked to the respect that all participants demonstrate toward the process itself. If disorder in China’s courts is in fact contributing to a public crisis of confidence, then addressing the problem at its root is an essential step toward furthering the development of rule of law.

At the heart of the debate over the proposed amendment to Article 309 is disagreement over the root causes of tension in the courtroom. Who is to blame when conflict erupts between the various parties at trial, especially between lawyers and judges? Are unscrupulous lawyers showing brazen contempt for the law and the courts, or are judicial bias and procedural violations forcing some lawyers to adopt more confrontational tactics as a form of protest? Regulating lawyer behavior through the threat of criminal sanctions might lead to a more orderly courtroom, but if defense lawyers become meek participants in judicial proceedings that remain arbitrary and biased, then this is likely to do little to enhance the courts’ reputation for delivering justice. On the contrary, imposing further limits on the fragile rights of lawyers may actually erode public confidence in the Chinese judicial system even further.

Letter of the Law

The existing offense under Article 309 imposes a maximum sentence of three years in prison for “gathering people to stir up trouble or attack a courtroom” or “assaulting a judicial officer (sifa gongzuo renyuan),” when those acts “seriously disrupt courtroom order.” The draft amendment proposes to expand the assault clause to include “those participating in the proceedings.” It also adds two new offense categories: “insulting, defaming, or threatening a judicial officer or participant in the proceedings after being told by the court to stop” and “engaging in other acts that seriously disrupt the order of the court.”

The first of these changes is relatively unproblematic. Liu Renwen, a legal scholar at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, has in fact been quick to point out that expanding the scope of protection against courtroom assaults is aimed at protecting the rights of lawyers. In particular, he believes that the change will help address attacks by victims’ family members against defense lawyers or defendants’ relatives. Such attacks are unfortunately frequent in China, particularly in cases involving the death penalty.

There is much less support for the two other proposed amendments to Article 309. Critics contend that “insulting,” “defaming,” and “threatening” are acts that can each be defined quite broadly. Professor Qu Xinjiu of China University of Political Science and Law notes that “insult” can include ordinary name-calling, damage to reputation that might be eligible for civil litigation, and a relatively rare degree of offense that might qualify for criminal prosecution. The proposed expansion of Article 309 does not make clear what degree of insult would qualify for criminal prosecution, or why the existing criminal statute covering insult and defamation is insufficient to handle the acts being targeted. Observers similarly note the ambiguous and subjective nature of the word “threaten” (weixie), which has no corresponding criminal offense. To remedy these problems, Professor Chen Xingliang of Peking University Law School has recommended scrapping the “insulting, defaming, or threatening” clause entirely and expanding the assault clause to cover the more menacing act of “intimidating” (konghe) judicial officers and other parties.

The prospect of sanctions against insult and defamation at trial is particularly troubling to lawyers, who feel unfairly singled out given the way the offense is written to presume the court’s authority. Many have argued that China should in fact adopt measures to give lawyers civil and penal immunity for statements made in connection to a case—a recommendation based on Article 20 of the UN Basic Principles on the Role of Lawyers. Otherwise, it is feared, lawyers who dread the consequences of their speech may become “obsequious and servile” and reluctant to express their defense opinions fully, thereby potentially harming the interests of the defendants they represent.

It is the final clause, known as the “pocket clause” for its ability to contain almost anything, which has generated the most opposition. Lawyers and legal scholars are frequently critical of such legal formulations, considering them to be sloppy, “unscientific,” and open to arbitrary and abusive interpretations. In this instance, critics argue, the inclusion of such a clause is particularly detrimental to lawyers. This is because, as Chen Xingliang explains, both the Supreme People’s Court and Supreme People’s Procuratorate have the power to issue legal interpretations that can shape how provisions like these are applied. In other words, of the three main participants in courtroom proceedings, only lawyers have no say over what “other acts” might be construed as serious disruptions to courtroom behavior—potentially putting them at a serious disadvantage.

Critics and Crackdowns

Stepping back from the issue of how the proposed offense would be worded, critics of the amendment also doubt whether an expanded criminal offense is even necessary. In addition to existing offenses covering insult and defamation, Article 194 of the Criminal Procedure Law empowers a presiding judge to forcibly remove a trial participant or spectator for continuing to violate courtroom order after being warned to stop. In serious cases, the judge may also impose a fine of up to 1000 yuan or a jail term of up to 15 days. With respect to lawyers, other disciplinary sanctions—such as formal warnings or suspensions from practice—can be applied to deal with the most serious cases.

Despite all of these arguments, which were amply presented to lawmakers when the first draft of the Criminal Law amendments was made public in late 2014, the proposed expansion of Article 309 remained essentially unchanged in the second draft presented to the National People’s Congress Standing Committee (NPSC) in late June. Drafters are expected to submit one final proposal for passage later this year.

Will lawmakers once again ignore the opposition of lawyers and legal scholars?

They may very well do so, if the recent crackdown on Chinese rights lawyers is any indication. Liang Jianbing, a law professor at Liaoning Normal University in Dalian, believes that there is a clear link between public opposition to the proposed changes to Article 309 and the sweeping detention of lawyers initiated on July 10. He suspects that many members of the NPCSC were swayed by the outpouring of criticism directed at the first draft by lawyers and legal scholars, putting the future of the proposed amendments in jeopardy. In response, law-enforcement institutions and others who want to see this legislation passed have carried out a highly public campaign against a group of rights lawyers, some of whom have been engaged in courtroom confrontations in the past. The media exposure of these lawyers as “criminals,” Liang argues, is a tactical move intended to overcome remaining skepticism and resistance and secure enough support to ensure that the amendment passes.

Even if the campaign against lawyers is not directly aimed at ensuring passage of an amended Article 309, both threaten to contribute to fragmentation and passivity among lawyers and accentuate divisions between lawyers and other legal professionals. Han Jiayi of the All-China Lawyers Association has warned of lawyers choosing to “stay away from the courts” and instead focusing their practice on matters that do not involve litigation. Those in power might not mind if more lawyers opt to stay out of the courtroom, or if the ones who go to trial are less willing to challenge authority. Nevertheless, these outcomes would create a version of “rule of law” unlikely to satisfy many Chinese citizens.