The rule of law is often celebrated as a defining legacy of British colonial rule—an institutional framework that purportedly facilitated postcolonial prosperity and development. However, Christopher Munn’s latest exploration of the legal history of colonial Hong Kong offers a more nuanced and critical perspective. His work traces the uneven, truncated, and often uneasy trajectory of the territory’s judicial development, challenging the conventional narrative of seamless legal continuity and progress under British rule. In Penalties of Empire: Capital Trials in Colonial Hong Kong, Christopher Munn offers a meticulous examination of the administration of capital punishment from 1844 to 1993. Through forensic scrutiny of nine pivotal capital cases, Munn presents richly detailed analyses of procedural arrangements, legal controversies, social contexts, and judicial outcomes. These case studies illuminate not only the inherent complexities of developing a colonial judicial system but also expose some of the most contentious dimensions of British colonial rule.
Munn prefers to let the facts speak for themselves, choosing not to overtly articulate the broader lessons drawn from these case studies. Nevertheless, several important themes—briefly introduced in the opening chapter—clearly emerge over the course of the book. The first major theme that emerges is the persistent hindrance posed by language barriers. In the early colonial years, courtroom proceedings were severely hampered by poor translation quality, making it difficult for all parties involved to follow the legal deliberations. This linguistic gulf was further exacerbated by the rapidly growing size of the local Chinese population and its limited familiarity with common law practices, a gap that took decades to begin narrowing.
Second, the presence of an unstable and increasingly assertive China posed ongoing challenges to the administration of justice in colonial Hong Kong. The weakening Qing dynasty and the political upheaval in the ensuing decades turned China into a breeding ground for pirates, criminals, and revolutionaries. Their occasional incursions into Hong Kong fueled violent crimes in the territory and also made cross-border justice a particularly delicate issue. The colonial government remained cautious of China’s frequent use of torture and its divergent judicial procedures when evaluating extradition requests. Nevertheless, the relatively higher likelihood of conviction in Chinese courts often made extradition an attractive option. The colony’s role as a safe haven for Chinese revolutionaries and dissidents in the early twentieth century also generated friction between the two jurisdictions. A stark example is the 1901 assassination of Yeung Ku-wan, a Hong Kong resident and prominent figure in Dr. Sun Yat-sen’s Revive China Society; many within the local community believed the Qing authorities orchestrated the murder.
Last, public opinion played a role in shaping criminal justice in colonial Hong Kong despite the lack of democracy in the territory. In the early colonial years, unofficial members of the Executive Council served as key advisors to the Governor on matters of public sentiment. With the colony’s socioeconomic development, however, business elites, legal professionals, academics, the press, and civic organizations began to assert themselves more vocally. Through petitions, signature campaigns, and strategic use of the media, they influenced the outcomes of controversial cases—occasionally securing mercy for condemned prisoners or prompting substantive reforms in judicial administration. Colonial governors, who held the prerogative of final decision in cases of capital punishment, found public opinion to be a factor that could not be ignored.
Munn’s insights extend well beyond the legal history of modern Hong Kong; they also shed important light on several key aspects of colonial governance. His analysis significantly enhances our understanding of the colonial autonomy the colony enjoyed. While the Privy Council in London served as the court of final appeal, its interventions were largely limited to procedural matters and technicalities. In most cases, the British government refrained from intervening in capital punishment decisions confirmed by the colonial governor. However, as Munn points out, the relationship between Hong Kong and London was more nuanced. The absence of an elected legislature in Hong Kong left room for London to intervene when Whitehall deemed it necessary. More crucially, the governor’s decisions—especially on matters of life and death—were not immune to the shifting political sentiments in Britain. The growing movement to abolish the death penalty in the UK, along with its broader political implications, became a consideration that colonial governors could not ignore. The case of Tsoi Kwok-cheong underscores this dynamic. Governor MacLehose’s decision not to commute Tsoi’s death sentence coincided with an impending Parliamentary debate on the abolition of capital punishment in 1973. A senior cabinet minister warned that carrying out the execution would trigger “one hell of a Parliamentary row.” MacLehose ultimately acknowledged that “Hong Kong can never afford to be, or to appear to be, at loggerheads with the House of Parliament or the bulk of public opinion in the UK, or a fortiori with HMG” and found an act of clemency agreeable (p. 359). In the end, his decision was overturned by Queen Elizabeth II’s pardon to Tsoi, commuting his sentence to life imprisonment.
The governor’s role was further complicated by the need to manage racial tensions. Gaining the trust of the local population in a judicial system imposed by colonial rulers was a monumental challenge. The perception of racial inequality in the administration of justice persisted throughout the colonial era. Although there were instances where Europeans were sentenced to death, the overwhelming majority of those executed were Chinese. This imbalance, together with the language barrier and cultural differences mentioned above, fueled grievances among the Chinese community. Yet, anxieties about justice were not exclusive to the Chinese. Europeans, too, often regarded themselves as a vulnerable minority within the colony, a fear that was heightened during politically charged moments—such as the General Strike in the 1920s—or when murders involving Chinese perpetrators and European victims occurred. Munn’s account traces the gradual reforms in Hong Kong’s judicial system, reforms shaped by both internal pressures and external concerns over legitimacy. These changes were spurred by the anxieties of officials in Hong Kong and London, the advocacy of reform-minded individuals like Governor John Pope Hennessy and missionary James Legge, and even sensational episodes such as the dramatic 1919 case in which condemned prisoners denounced the penal system’s cruelty just before their executions. Reforms included efforts to achieve ethnic balance on juries, improvements in courtroom translation services, the provision of public funding for legal defense, and the removal of incompetent judges. Some of these reforms succeeded, while others failed. Yet, as Munn demonstrates, these reforms—whether intentional or not—collectively reflect a sustained colonial effort to legitimize imperial rule through the gradual refinement of its legal institutions.
The significance of Penalties of Empire would be further enhanced—and its reach extended to a broader audience—through a more sustained engagement with the wider literature on legal development and capital punishment in other British colonies, or by more explicitly drawing out the broader implications of its findings. Nonetheless, Munn’s penetrating analysis and meticulous attention to detail demonstrate how the history of Hong Kong can be compellingly and rigorously told. This is essential reading for anyone interested in the legal and political dimensions of colonial rule in Hong Kong.
