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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, August 12, 2021

Last week, Sinica interviewed Ambassador Huang Ping, the New York consul general of China.  Even though Huang often just speaks the party line, the interview is still very much worth a listen, especially the questions about the Chinese government’s internment of over one million Uyghurs and other Turkic Muslims in Xinjiang without any legal process. (see interview @ 50:54). 

Ambassador Huang didn’t deny the existence of these camps, which he euphemistically referred to as “vocational and education training centers.” Instead, he argued, the camps were needed to “deradicalize” the Muslim population and to provide job training.  But like the many Chinese government officials before him, Huang provided no proof that these one million Uyghurs demonstrated anything more than the practice of their religion, or why even if they did, the denial of due process is appropriate.  And he failed to explain why some Uyghurs with flourishing careers prior to their internment were forced into the camps.

Huang also failed to provide any citation for his statement these camps are “legal” (see interview @ 53:43).  But are they?  After over four years, now is a good time to look again at why there is still no legal basis under Chinese law for the camps.

Much of what has been happening in Xinjiang is against the backdrop of the 2015 passage of the Counter-Terrorism Law, a vaguely drafted law that often references religion when discussing “extremism.”  For violations of the Counter-Terrorism Law that rises to the level of a crime, these matters must be prosecuted through China’s criminal justice system, a.k.a, the court system (see Art. 79).  However, there are some situations that do not rise to the level of a crime and instead, the Counter-Terrorism Law allows the police – without accessing the judicial process – to “administratively detain” the person for 10 to 15 days in detention.  These minor situations are specifically described in the Law (see Arts. 80-82).  Thus, the Counter-Terrorism Law gives only two choices: if you want to deprive someone of their liberty of more than 15 days, you must go through the courts and the criminal process; if you do not want to go through the courts, then the Law only permits up to 15 days of administrative detention and only for the specific behaviors listed in the Law. 

Knowing these provisions of the Counter-Terrorism Law are important because under Chinese law, only national level laws can provide for the deprivation of a person’s liberty.  Local regulations implementing the national level laws cannot hold a person beyond the time-frame permitted by national law.

But, as China law experts Jeremy Daum and Don Clarke noted back in 2018 (here and here) when it was first coming to light that Uyghurs and other Turkic Muslims were being detained for months to years without any trial or other criminal process, only the Xinjiang local regulations mentioned establishment of “education centers” and suggest that a person’s stay there is lengthy (e.g., individuals will eventually be “returned to society” after their time at the education center).  “The [local] regulations provide a legal basis but not a sufficient legal basis,” Daum told me recently when I asked him about the legal basis of the camps. “It doesn’t solve the problem of needing that national level law.”  So until there is a change in the Counter-Terrorism Law, these camps are still illegal under Chinese law. 

But Daum noted a new argument from the Chinese government: that the camps offer a more lenient diversion from the criminal justice system.  This argument first emerged in a series of government white papers from 2019 (and which Huang references in his Sinica interview).  And while the white papers are not law, they do offer important policy justifications. “What those white papers are saying is that everybody goes to the camps,” Daum stated.  “If we want them to go to the camps, they go to the camps, whether they have been convicted, whether they have been suspected, or whether they could be convicted and were diverted.”

It is this diversion argument – that the camps are a lenient alternative to the criminal justice system – that is becoming more prominent Daum noted.  And while Chinese officials may present this as a voluntary choice – that the person choses to go to the camps over running the risk of a harsher prison sentence through the criminal justice system – it isn’t much of a choice when the alternative is a system with a 99.9% conviction rate.  Daum also pointed out, this “choice” – camp over prison – is given even to those who committed one of the listed administrative detention offense, which if the Counter-Terrorism Law was followed, would only mean the maximum of 15-day detention.  But instead, by offering “diversion,” these individuals end up in a camp with a much longer sentence. 

And make no mistake, these camps are not places where people can come and go freely.  The leaked “Xinjiang Papers” and “China Cables” make this clear.  “The one thing [the papers] really did show was that these schools were managed like a prison. . . .It’s about containing people who don’t want to be contained,” Daum told me. 

Ambassador Huang was wrong.  These camps are not legal under Chinese law; they weren’t back in 2017 and they still are not today.  And even the policy arguments that Chinese officials try to peddle ring hallow.  But the one thing to note is that international pressure is doing something; the Chinese government feels that it has to respond to these allegations, even if their response is pathetic.  This doesn’t provide solace to the millions of Uyghurs and other Turkic Muslims whose rights, freedom and dignity are constantly violated by the Chinese government, but it shows that the rest of the world must continue its pressure and hold the Chinese government accountable not just to international law but also to its own. 

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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, April 20, 2015

China Law Translate’s founder Jeremy Daum

In the past ten years, the number of Chinese-speaking foreign scholars of Chinese law has increased dramatically, and the number of Chinese lawyers who speak and read English has increased even more. Inevitably, this raises the question of whether translations of Chinese legal materials are still necessary and likewise for American laws translated into Chinese.?

For Jeremy Daum, the creator of China Law Translate (www.chinalawtranslate.com) and Senior Research Fellow at the Yale China Law Center in Beijing, a community-based translation website, the answer is yes, and more so now than ever. China Law Translate (“CLT”) uses internet resources and a volunteer army of netizens to translate various legal documents – laws, regulations, articles, interpretations and news stories from Chinese into English and vice versa.

Over the last two years the site has become an important resource as foreign interest in Chinese law continues to grow. Cited by the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, and the United States Congress, China Law Translate is a novel attempt at crowd-sourced collaboration for this kind of translation. To understand its success and impact, China Law & Policy interviewed CLT founder Jeremy Daum to better understand the site and its planned future.

[In the interest of full disclosure, China Law & Policy is a proud participant of China Law Translate’s community translation project.]

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EL: What caused you to create China Law Translate?

JD: Pure selfishness–I use our translations constantly.

In creating the site, I had three goals. First, to allow experts, students and other interested folks to contribute their time and efforts without making a big commitment. At the same time, I hoped to incorporate technological tools to make translation easier. Finally, I also wanted to create a forum for discussing the accuracy of the translations, so our group could begin to standardize commonly used, but uniquely Chinese legal terms.

Also, while it sounds hokey, I honestly believe that communication leads to increased understanding, and hope that

China Law Translate – making it as easy to translate like pushing a button!

the site helps contribute something to foreign legal professionals’ understanding China’s situation and vice versa.

In 2013 when I started the site, there were a number of major new laws and interpretations released, not the least of which was the revised Criminal Procedure Law (CPL) with its 290 articles, the Supreme People’s Court’s accompanying 548-article interpretation, the Supreme People’s Procuratorate’s accompanying 708-article interpretation and the Ministry of Public Security’s 376-article implementation regulations. That’s a lot right there, and even reading through it can take an enormous amount of time.

There are a lot of us translating various documents, but we too often translate the same work, duplicating efforts constantly but rarely sharing the successes in any meaningful way.

EL: In introducing this interview I mentioned that with the increased number of bilingual experts, translation might be less relevant. The positive response to your site indicates that you aren’t alone in valuing translation—so, why is translation still important?

China Law Translate’s mascot, Judge Bao, a general in 1000 AD but also a symbol of justice.

JD: It’s a legitimate question, but I suspect that anyone who has ever practiced or studied law in China knows that language can still be a barrier. Translating legal texts requires a big skill set- not just excellent language ability, but also an understanding of both the Chinese and foreign legal systems. Law itself is already a kind of second language, and ensuring accurate communication across national languages and legal systems is not so easy.

The number of foreign nationals and organizations involved in China is still increasing, and they all have a practical need to understand Chinese law. At the same time, Chinese law is becoming more and more sophisticated, and this also makes translation more important. Where a quick summary might once have been enough to get a feel for the law, it is now necessary to actually parse the text and follow through to read its interpretations, local implementing regulations and so on. If China’s ongoing legal reforms are to be taken seriously, you have to understand what they really say.

EL: Your site has been used by the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, the U.S. Congress. Have you been surprised by the response to your site?

JD: Well, we get fairly steady traffic of readers despite slow service times behind the firewall, but only about 1% of visitors have ever even opened the translation panel to contribute. Still, that the media and various governments find the translations useful means we are making a contribution.

One thing that has surprised me is the percentage of readers who are Chinese speakers coming to read Chinese

If only this guy had come to China Law Translate first! This tattoo means “Chicken Noodle Soup”

language materials. That is to say, about 20% of the traffic is people in China, with their computer set to Chinese, reading Chinese law in Chinese. Sometimes when you set out to solve one problem you end up meeting another need entirely. My only guess as to what’s going on is that other online versions of Chinese laws just aren’t as searchable as ours are—they are often divided up into several pages and you can’t just search the text easily. We always talk about access to law—well, the site seems to be accidentally helping some Chinese people access their laws.

EL: What have been the most important or most cited translations?

JD: I sometimes say that instead of “China Law Translate” the site should be called “China Law Translated”, because in addition to straight translations, we do also provide explanations, commentaries and a real-time newsfeed. These include blog posts and original articles by me, (and anyone else who wants to submit) and also annotations made through a great comment system called Factlink that lets people make sidebar comments on specific chunks of a law.

So, some our most heavily trafficked pages have been translations of draft laws that other places aren’t likely to bother translating: The draft domestic violence law and the draft counter-terrorism law have both been among the site’s busiest pages. Others have been original pieces like an explanation I wrote about the crime of provocation (“ picking quarrels”) a poorly understood offense that has been used to detain a number of prominent activists. We’ve also had a lot of traffic on important case documents of interest to a wider foreign audience, such as the verdict of Xu Zhiyong.

EL: What’s the benefit of CLT’s translations over more formal and traditional processes, like a law school hiring a translator?

Don’t get lost in translation!

JD: I love it when law schools, NGOs, governments etc. hire translators to create reliable bilingual versions of laws and documents to share with everyone. It just doesn’t happen very often. Translation is expensive, and usually still requires expert staff time to review if quality is to be assured, so its takes time on top of the translation fees. We avoid a lot of that by working together.

Also, those few translations that are shared publicly aren’t usually kept in a single location where everyone can find them all. But CLT isn’t just a repository for translations either, it’s truly collaborative. Once something is online, it keeps evolving, getting better through contributors comments and additions.

Finally, there are a few pay services that put out translations of key documents, but the pay wall limits the number of people who can use them, and honestly, I think we match them for quality. More importantly, they tend to cater to a different audience, focusing on documents involving business and transactional law, rather than the public law materials CLT emphasizes.

EL: Just to explain it to those who may not have ever seen the site, how exactly does it work?

JD: The documents on the site are broken into single sentence units of meaning for translation purposes. When you open the translation/editor mode, you can click on any of these translation units to make changes, and after you approve the change, it changes the way everyone coming to the site sees that translation.

Even if you don’t want to make changes, you can also use the translation mode to compare the translation to the original language. In reading through translations, I’ve found that I generally see at least one typo that I want to correct, so I encourage others to do this too.

On the off chance that vandals come through and change all the text of the translations, a record is kept of every change to every block of text, and they can be rolled back without any heartache.

EL: If you start translating a law, do you have to finish it? What’s the time commitment for your volunteers?

Not a big time commitment

JD: There is no minimum or maximum time commitment; it’s an ad-hoc ongoing collaboration. And there is certainly no need to finish a translation in one sitting – many of the translations on the site are works in progress, and any portions that haven’t been translated just get displayed in the original language.

It’s a funny thing, I made the site precisely because nobody has time to translate everything by themself, but lots of colleagues still say they’d love to contribute if they only had the time. My thought is this, if you are looking for a certain part of a law, check our site, see if we have it and if that part of the law has been translated yet. If not, translate it so it’s there for the next person.

If you are really devoted, you could translate a random sentence or two a day, it’s a great way to practice language skills!

EL: What if someone who does a translation wants credit for it? Are you willing to allow that person’s name to appear on the translation?

JD: As long as you log in to the site, any translations you make are attributed to you, and anyone who looks at the translation history of a given translation block will see what you did. Most people seem to want NOT to be detected, and translate anonymously by not logging in.

If someone submits a completed full-text translation, I’m happy to put it up with their name (or logo) clearly indicated and an explanation that they submitted it. I do like to keep the entire site editable, so I would probably also put up a PDF of the document as originally submitted so that nobody would wrongly attribute any subsequent changes to the donor.

For folks who consider themselves active members of our community, we have a system where frequent users earn points for visiting the site and commenting and can earn badges or even t-shirts. Of course, if a regular participant wants to put their CLT participation on their resume or what have you, I’d be happy to vouch for them.

EL: How do you guarantee accuracy?

JD: Oh, hah, I don’t. We do our best, and I’ve corrected a few obvious mistakes more than once, but at least at CLT every reader can correct mistakes they see.

As I mentioned above, the secondary goal of the site, beyond creating translations, is creating a forum for discussing translations. There’s room for disagreement about what terms mean even between native speakers discussing their own language’s legal terminology, and it only gets worse when you start translating.

If something on the site seems wrong or bizarre, bring it up in the comments and see if others have something to contribute. This is a conversation that needs to be happening for the benefit of both Chinese and English speaking users.

EL: China Law Translate has been around for a little over two years. Where do you see it going in the future?

JD: In addition to trying to expand our translator and editor base, I’m trying to encourage other organizations doing translations to let me cross post their content. I know that lots of groups do translations for a meeting or case that they only use once, maybe not realizing the value that these documents have for a wider audience. This is just one more way to make the site more complete and collaborative.

EL: Well, thank you again Jeremy first off for creating such an amazing resource and this interview. In case any of our readers are inspired by this interview, they should go to www.chinalawtranslate.com, right?

JD: Yes! Go to China Law Translate to translate your first sentence today!

To help get you started, here is the intro video that guides you in how to translate on China Law Translate:

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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, July 24, 2013

Over at the new blog – China Law Translate – Jeremy Daum has translated two recent mainland articles about individuals with mental illness and the impact of China’ new Mental Health Law (articles are here and here). 

On October 26, 2012, after working on a draft law for close to 27 years, China finally passed its first Mental Health Law; that law took effect on May 1, 2013.  Unfortunately, much of the focus of the foreign press about the new law has largely been on the changes to involuntary commitment and whether those changes will reduce the threat that political dissidents  will be wrongfully and involuntarily committed.  What’s been less of a focus has been the law’s impact on its actual target audience: those with diminished mental capacity. 

And that’s why Daum’s two translations – both recently published articles from the Chinese pres s – are interesting.  Both focus on the plight of the mentally ill.  Both examine the all too prevalent practice of caging severely mentally ill individuals. 

The pictures that accompany the articles – photos of individuals chained and in cages, some of whom are stark naked – are shocking to say the least.  And it would be easy to conclude that this reflects the callousness of a culture toward the mentally ill.  But nothing could be further from the truth – if anything, the caging of these individuals is a result of the dire situation of mental health care in China, especially in the rural areas. 

In “Cage People,” the Chinese reporter estimates that in Hebei Province alone 100,000 severely mentally ill individuals (usually considered people with schizophrenia, bi-polar disorder, etc.) are kept in cages as their only form of treatment.  Although the reporter gives no citation for this number (thus use this number with caution), the use of restraints and cages has been well documented in other sources.  In a 2011 World Psychiatry article entitled Mental Health System in China: History, Recent Service Reform and Future Challenges which examined China’s first experimental national mental health program – known as 686 Program and adopted in 2004 – the authors note the need for the program to include support for unlocking and freeing mentally ill individuals and finding treatment for them.

Lack of Mental Health Professionals

More than anything, this caging is a last resort in a system that has provided little financial support and few specialists in mental health.  China estimates that over 100 million people suffer from some form of mental illness; 16 million of those suffer from severe mental illness.  According to Mental Health System in China, China only has 16,103 licensed psychiatrists and 24,793 licensed psychiatric nurses;  in other words, 1.24 licensed psychiatrists for every 100,000 people and 1.91 licensed psychiatric nurses for every 100,000 people.  China is far below the  global average, where there are 4.15 psychiatrists and 12.97 psychiatric nurses per 100,000 people.  Id.  As a result, it’s not surprising that 91.8% of all the mentally ill in China never seek help.  For those with severe mental illness, 27.6% never receive any type of help and 12.0% of the severely mentally ill only visited non-mental health professionals.  Id.  

Social workers, who are key in a community-based mental health care system, are few in China.  However, China is rapidly expanding its program, with the goal of training 3 million social workers by 2020.  See Renne C. Lee, UH Aids China in the Developing Social Work Profession, Houston Chronicle (Mar. 4, 2013).

Disparities between Urban and Rural Life in China – extends to mental health care

Disparity Between Rural and Urban Areas

But what makes that shortage even worse is that since the economic reforms, there has been a brain drain from the rural clinics to more profitable hospitals in the urban areas.  See Yanzhong Huang, The Sick Man of Asia, Foreign Affairs (November/December 2011).  Even though the Chinese government has recognized the need to institute a community-based care model for mental illness, where patients are not all hospitalized but instead are treated while remaining in the community, the Chinese government still expends much of its resources on psychiatric hospitals.  See Mental Health System in China.  This inherently means that money will flow to the urban areas. 

Lack of Adequate Insurance and Funding to Rural Health Care Services

Finally, even with the reforms of health care funding, especially in the rural areas, mental health care is still too expensive for many Chinese.  According to WHO, only 2.35% of China’s total health budget is spent on mental health (in the U.S. 5.6% of the national health care spending is on mental health – see Washington Post article);  as of 2011, less than 15% of China’s population had insurance which covered mental health (although 45% of US mental health patients cite cost as a major burden).  See Mental Health System in China. 

Due to these factors, many severely mentally ill in the rural areas have only their families to take care of them.  With little to no treatment, these families sit by while their relatives’ illness only gets worse.  As a last resort, these families resort to restraints, not because they want to but because they have no choice. 

Does the Mental Health Law Change the Current Situation?

Chapter IV of the Mental Health Law– “Rehabilitation from Mental Disorders” – creates a community based model of care which should limit

All for One, One for All – Community Based Mental Health Services

hospitalization to only necessary situations.  This type of model allows those with diminished capacity to be integrated into society and is in line with China’s commitments under the Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (which China has ratified and the U.S. still has not).  Rural and village governments are required to assist those families obtain the services they need.  This assistance includes financial assistance. 

Unfortunately, the law leaves the funding of what could be a useful framework to the local areas.  For already impoverished villages, they just don’t have the resources to carry out their responsibilities.  As Daum’s translation of “The Need to Promote the Mental Health Law” demonstrates, even when families apply for their legal mandated “Minimum Subsistence Allowances,” the local fund is often inadequate and does not enable them to seek the medical help their relative needs; there will still be out of pocket costs that are too high for many villagers.   

As Huang Xuetao, a lawyer at the Equal Justice Initiative, noted in the article, the hopeful prospects of the Mental Health Law are diminished by three things: (1) the lack of education to the people about the protections of the new law; (2) the lack of funding for mental health care and (3) the government’s  lack of attention to the matter. 

Until those factors change, especially the last two, China’s Mental Health Law will not achieve its objectives.  However, these frank articles in the Chinese press – soon after the Mental Health Law took effect – might be a positive sign that change is on the way. 

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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, December 11, 2012

Don’t think that we missed this one.  China Law & Policy just hasn’t had the chance to write about it.  At any rate, after 25 years of discussion, and two rounds of very vocal public comments in the past year, on October 26, 2012, the Standing Committee of the National People’s Congress finally passed its Mental Health Law (“MHL”).

One of the major improvements to the law since earlier drafts is the removal of the provision that specifically permitted involuntary commitment if the individual’s behavior was deemed to be “disturbing public order” or “endangering public safety” (see interview with Prof. Michael Perlin about this issue here).  Earlier drafts which included that clause were vigorously attacked by both Chinese and foreign experts noting that such a provision would give carte blanche to the police to involuntarily commit anyone who expressed a dissenting view.  As Chinese Human Rights Defenders (“CHRD”) highlighted in its seminal report on China’s mental hospitals, The Darkest Corners: Abuses of Involuntary Psychiatric Commitment in China, some of China’s many mental hospital “patients” are in fact dissidents who were involuntarily committed outside of any court process for expressing their dissenting views.

Deletion of this provision is certainly a step forward there are still aspects of the adopted law that make it far less than ideal and demonstrates the continued need for better protections for the mentally ill in China.

Family members are still able to commit an individual against his or her will

In addition to voluntary commitment, Article 28 of the Mental Health Law still permits family members to involuntarily commit an individual that the family member suspects has a mental illness.  In effect, the Mental Health Law places the family in a separate sphere that assumes that family will not abuse the process.

But if the goal of the Mental Health Law is to “protect the lawful rights and interests of those with mental disorders” (MHL, Art. 1) and to integrate those with mental disorders into society, then allowing family members to involuntarily commit individuals runs against these goals by putting those with mental illness or disorders at the mercy of their family.  This also runs counter to the Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (CRPD) which requires that the rights of those with mental disabilities be on equal footing with the rest of society (see CRPD, Article 3(a)).  China has signed and ratified the CRPD but the new Mental Health Law is not in keeping with many of the CRPD’s provisions let alone its spirit.

No Court Oversight of the Commitment Process

International human rights law, which the CRPD adopts repeatedly through reference, is clear that any decision to deprive one’s liberty, including on health grounds, is challengeable before a court or other judicial body (see United Nations Commission on Human Rights, Report of the Working Group on Arbitrary Detention (Dec. 2005) Para 63-66).

China’s current Mental Health Law creates a system for involuntary commitment that is completely devoid of any court oversight.  When an individual appears at a mental hospital – either voluntarily, brought by a family member, or in the case of homeless individuals, by the police (MHL, Art. 28) – he or she is examined by one of the hospital’s psychiatrists.  If the psychiatrist determines that the individual suffers from a severe mental illness and that he or she demonstrates either harm to him or herself or harm to others, then involuntary commitment is required (MHL, Art. 30 – the law here uses “应当” which has the same effect of the use of the word “shall” in English laws, making involuntary commitment mandatory if the facts apply).

There is no provision to challenge the hospital psychiatrist’s diagnosis in a court of law or even before an independent arbitrator.  Instead, if the individual or its guardian disagrees with the initial assessment, he or she can request that the hospital provide a different psychiatrist to do an second assessment or go to another mental hospital to request a second opinion (MHL, Art. 32).  It is questionable if another doctor in the same hospital will be a true independent opinion or if he or she will just agree with his colleagues.

Similarly, even if the patient or his family requests an evaluation from another mental hospital, (1) under the Mental Health Law, there is no obligation that this hospital do the assessment and (2) it is not clear that the doctors in that hospital will be any more independent.  These doctors will still be state employees and colleagues of the original doctors.

If after the second opinion, the patient or his family still disagrees with the assessment, it is only at that point that he or she can go outside of the system and hire an independent psychiatrist of his or her choosing (MHL, Art. 32, ¶3).  However, the law makes no mention as to what to do if this third opinion disagrees with the two opinions provided by the state.  Article 35 of the Mental Health Law forbids involuntary commitment where the second opinion disagrees with the first, but makes no mention of what to do with the third opinion.  Without court involvement, presumably it will not be sufficient to overturn the prior opinions and free the individual.

Guardians Are Too Easily Appointed and Too Difficult to Remove

The Mental Health Law provides a tremendous amount of power an individual’s guardian but provides no method for how that guardian should be appointed.  Instead, it is necessary to look to the General Principles of Civil Law which discusses guardianship for individuals with mental illness.

Unfortunately, the General Principles does little to flesh out the appointment process.  Instead, it makes clear the level of abuse that can occur.  Article 13 of the General Principles requires the appointment of an agent ad litem (a guardian) for mentally ill individuals who are “unable to account for his own conduct.”  But the law does not flesh out what “account for his own conduct means.”  Some individuals with mental illness may still be able to lead a relatively normal life and just need help in certain aspects.  But the General Principles is much more black and white; much more all-or-nothing and do not allow for that gray area that provides for some independence for an individual with slight assistance from a guardian.

Additionally, the General Principles provides no formal or independent process by which a guardian is appointed.  Instead, it appears that basically, if a person wants to be a family member’s guardian, she can just declare herself as such (Article 17 of the General Principles pretty much limits guardians to family members although there is a provision for a work unit member).  Based on the General Principles, the process for guardianship in China is not an appointment process but rather a declaration one.

Article 17 of the General Principles does contemplate a court action where the individual or someone else might disagree with the declaration of guardianship.  But it would be better to involve the court at the initial stage and require it to review guardianship decision to give the relationship any legal effect.  In fact, the Article 12(4) of the CRPD requires such a process – that an impartial authority or judicial body review all decisions to limit an individual’s legal capacity, such as the appointment of a guardian.  Without judicial oversight of the guardianship process, the process is subject to abuse and the individual with mental illness is again denied his ability to function equally in society with others.

Conclusion

In reality, the Mental Health Law does little to foster an environment where those with mental illness can lead an independent life and be accepted by society.   Furthermore, although the law discusses the very real (and dire) need to increase the number of mental health professionals in China, that has remained aspirational.  As of yet, the Chinese government has remained silent on how much money and what incentives it will provide to achieve that goal.  Providing adequate and sufficient medical assistance for those suffering from mental illness is just as important to making sure that those individuals will be able to lead a full life.

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* Jeremy Daum drafted this translation within days of the Mental Health Law’s promulgation.  It wasn’t until now that China Law & Policy had the chance to publish this translation.

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By Elizabeth M. Lynch, October 10, 2011

Over at the US-Asia Law Institute’s blog, research fellow, Jeremy Daum has just published a thought provoking article on the Zhang Guoxi case, the first case to publicly – and perhaps most effectively – use China’s exclusionary rule to exclude evidence that was obtained through torture.

In June 2010, China surprised the world by issuing detailed rules on the use of evidence obtained through torture, essentially excluding it as the basis of conviction when the prosecutor could not show that the evidence was obtained legally and without torture.  China Law & Policy blogged about these new rules here and here.

On paper, the new rules provided hope that the police would reign in their ardent use of torture as a means to obtain a conviction.  But in practice, it appeared that the courts, the enforcers of the new exclusionary rules, had little institutional power to control the more powerful police and prosecutor’s offices.  This fear appeared to be realized when the Supreme People’s Court, a few weeks after the Rules’ adoption, chose not to apply them to overturn a death sentence that appeared to be based on a confession obtained through torture.

But as Daum describes below, a trial court in Ningbo has done what scholars thought was impossible – use the exclusionary rules to deny the use of a suspect’s confession where the prosecutor was unable to, or more aptly was too arrogant to provide evidence that the confession was obtained legally.

The Ningbo trial court did not just stop there.  Instead, the trial court issued a clear and transparent opinion on its decision, reflecting its reliance on the letter of the law concerning the new exclusionary rules. As Daum notes below, in China such an opinion from a trial court is rare making Daum wonder, what impact will the appellate court’s decision (the decision has now been appealed to the intermediary court), and the public’s response, have on the Chinese government’s impending adoption of an amended Criminal Procedure Law (“CPL”).

Below is an excerpt of Daum’s interesting article with a link to the full version.

 

Zhang Guoxi Case: a simple case of bribery?

Excluded : The Zhang Guoxi Case

By Jeremy Daum
Research Fellow, US-Asia Law Institute, NYU Law School

Normally, ‘dog bites man’ is not news, but in the generally bleak climate for reform that pervades China’s criminal justice system, a story of “judge upholds law” has gained some traction in the Chinese media. As Chinese and foreign experts scrambled to absorb new draft revisions to China’s Criminal Procedure Law (CPL) in time to offer their opinions during the single month allotted for public comment, another less publicized story was also making waves in the legal community. A trial court in Ningbo has been hailed as the first to give full force to rules on the exclusion of illegally gathered evidence jointly introduced slightly over a year ago by China’s Supreme People’s Court, Supreme People’s Procuratorate, Ministry of Justice and top law enforcement agencies (“the Rules”), by excluding a confession and allowing a defendant to go unpunished…

…The case itself is remarkable only in its mundanity.  It is an ordinary bribery case in which Zhang Guoxi (章国锡), an official from a local construction administration project, was accused of abusing his office to accept seventy-six thousand yuan (about $12,000 U.S.) in graft over four years. The mistreatment that Zhang allegedly received at the hands of interrogators is also not the sort of blood-curdling horror story that “shocks the conscience” or that one might expect would provoke a judge to take a stance against his investigative and prosecutorial colleagues, risking his career and reputation….

….What is exceptional about the case is instead the trial court’s insistence that prosecutors and investigators follow both the spirit and the letter of the law.

Read the full article here.