Last month the world got a revealing view of Chinese justice. One of the leading voices for democracy, intellectual Liu Xiaobo, was found guilty of “inciting subversion to state power” in a Beijing court, a vacuous charge frequently used against dissidents. He was sentenced to 11 years in prison. The “trial” lasted less than three hours and Liu’s wife was denied access. American diplomats were singled out to be excluded from observing the trial—a slap in the face to this country after President’s Obama’s visit.
At the end of November, another long sentence of seven years was imposed on Wang Yonghang, a Beijing attorney. Wang lost his freedom because he wrote to regime leader Hu Jintao explaining how Article 300—which refers to obstructing justice and “undermining the implementation of the law,” and is commonly used against Falun Gong practitioners—makes no sense. How can a religious belief lead to obstructing justice? In a bitterly ironic twist, he himself was then charged with violating Article 300. These vague charges are commonplace in China to silence persons whom the authorities perceive as threatening to them.
Long sentences have become more common in recent years. The Falun Dafa Information Center compiled 63 cases where Falun Gong practitioners have in the last year and half been sentenced to 10 years or more.
British citizen Akmal Shaikh, 53 and father of three, was charged with smuggling drugs when he got off a plane in Urumqi in NW China with 8.7 lbs. of heroin. Family members and friends said he suffered from bipolar disorder and didn’t understand what the man from Kyrgyzstan meant when he promised Shaikh that he would make him a pop star and handed him a suitcase full of drugs.
It was quite evident that Shaikh was mentally ill. Friends of his in London provided the New York Times (Oct. 13) this exchange from Shaikh: “I am the chosen one here to deliver world peace. All I know is that Abraham has shown me my home in seventh heaven and I have met all the prophets.”
At an appeals hearing last May, the judges laughed out loud “at Akmal's rambling speech as he pleaded for his life,” said the BBC News (Dec. 30). Under Chinese law, the psychological condition of the defendant is supposed to be considered. British Prime Minister Gordon Brown personally intervened and raised the matter in September with Hu Jintao at the economic summit meeting in Pittsburgh. Also, British consular officials in Beijing tried hard to get a reprieve from the death sentence. Yet the court never ordered any mental evaluation of Mr. Shaikh, and he was executed on Dec. 29.
The three cited cases indicate that China’s communist leaders are indifferent to international criticism and have no intention of moving in the direction of democracy and the rule of law. Leniency and justice are alien to the thinking of Party leaders.
Meanwhile, last year much talk was made of a reform movement in China for a nonviolent transition to a democracy, a political multiparty system, an independent judiciary, and respect for human rights. Commensurately, there has also emerged in recent years a small coterie of rights defense lawyers (weiquan lüshi), who act as if judges and the Party abide by the rule of law and China’s constitution, and hope that the rule of law will prevail. But those who have peacefully advocated democracy have been grievously disappointed. The rights defense lawyers have been targeted for abuse. At least 21 have lost their licenses to practice law this past year, and many have been arrested and beaten.
Why, then, are U.S. policies toward the People’s Republic of China based on the inevitability that China will embrace enlightened values?
Views expressed in this article are the opinions of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Epoch Times.
