(SCMP) Jason Y. Ng says the logic behind Rimsky Yuen’s support for immigration co-location at West Kowloon is unsound, but the justice minister’s confidence stems from knowing that Beijing always has the last word.
(The Guardian) On Thursday evening, Chinese dissident and political prisoner Liu Xiaobo died from liver cancer in a Shenyang Hospital. Liu was, as the Western press sharply pointed out, the first Nobel Peace Prize laureate to die in custody since Carl von Ossietzky did in Nazi Germany in 1938. Supporters the world over mourned the death of a man who lived and died a hero. The only crime he ever committed was penning a proposal that maps out a bloodless path for his country to democratise.
今個星期，按《01博評》邀請，再暫停寫親子，與大家說說法律。 昨日，高等法院就羅冠聰、梁國雄、劉小麗、姚松炎的立法會就職宣誓案頒佈判辭。區慶祥大法官的判辭長達112頁，覆蓋甚廣。各傳媒已就判辭內容廣泛引述，不少法律界人士亦已就判辭的實質法律、法律程序或政治影響發表意見，我亦無意在此重複他人已做的具體法律分析。 不過，我留意到在判辭頒佈後，有些人說它是彰顯法治、有些人說是法治已死。我想趁這個機會以問答形式再重溫一下人大常委釋法機制與法治的關係，然後再簡短地看看今次「四議員宣誓案」的法治討論。
If you'd been surfing the Chinese Internet Friday, you might have read about Chinese President Xi Jinping extolling the virtues of free trade in his Thursday meeting with the Canadian Governor-General. You might also have read about the bride in the coastal city of Qingdao who drove a bus to her own wedding. And you would surely have seen at least a handful of funny panda videos. What you would not have read about is the death in Chinese custody of Nobel laureate Liu Xiaobo.
今個週末，我不談子說家，只談情說愛。 近日，有一對小情人的照片在網上及媒體報導上流傳。這對小情人名為劉曉波與劉霞。 病入膏肓的曉波兄已被癌魔折磨到骨瘦如柴，面色不濟，看起來連站起來都站不穩了。但他的左手仍然堅持緊緊的擁抱着他的愛人，精神欠奉的眼睛仍嘗試向愛人方向望着。
(CNN) China's President has traditionally visited Hong Kong only once every five years, swearing in the Chief Executive for a new five year term and then hastily making an exit before the traditional July 1 protest march. For all the bluster about Beijing tightening its control over Hong Kong, President Xi Jinping's visit for the 20th anniversary of the handover of Hong Kong from British to Chinese rule was no exception.
(The Australian Financial Review) Mornings in Hong Kong are like in no other city. For a city that heaves with a seemingly incessant energy, the start of every day presents a pause. Commuters have not yet flooded the subway system, the shopping malls are not yet open, the roads largely empty of traffic. A delivery boy weaves his shaky bicycle across the tram lines, a basket of vegetables hanging off the handlebars. Elderly enthusiasts brandishing aluminium broad swords practise tai chi in a park. Down a side street, a taxi driver with a bucket and cloth scrubs down his gleaming red cab. Men linger with their newspapers over cups of tea and a breakfast of dim sum. Out on the harbour, a lone sampan crosses the sun-dappled water. In a city in hyper-aware of time – of dates, and countdowns, and anniversaries – at this time of day, time itself seems to dissolve.
It is normally difficult to get lawyers to stop talking and stay quiet. But that is exactly what happened last Tuesday, when 2,000 of them, all dressed in black, marched through the center of Hong Kong in a dignified “silent protest” against a move by the Chinese government to directly intervene in the city’s legal affairs.
On 19 December 1984, amidst great fanfare, the United Kingdom and China signed the Sino–British Joint Declaration on the Question of Hong Kong. It contained extensive guarantees of Hong Kong’s autonomy, rule of law, and fundamental rights — all of which would remain entrenched until 50 years after the transfer of sovereignty. On the day the treaty was signed, Deng Xiaoping confidently declared to Margaret Thatcher that ‘China will always keep its promises’.