On November 4, 2025, a Hong Kong court delivered a decision that reverberated across the city and beyond, rejecting an attempt by Chow Hang-tung—a prominent barrister and former organizer of Hong Kong’s iconic Tiananmen Square vigil—to quash her indictment for inciting subversion. The ruling, which pushes forward a landmark case seen by many as emblematic of the city’s ongoing crackdown on pro-democracy activism, has reignited debate about the boundaries of free expression and the reach of Beijing’s national security law.
Chow Hang-tung, together with fellow activists Albert Ho and Lee Cheuk-yan, stands accused of inciting others to challenge the leadership of China’s Communist Party by unlawful means during the turbulent days of 2019. The charge, brought under the sweeping national security law imposed by Beijing in 2020, carries a maximum sentence of ten years. All three were once leaders of the Hong Kong Alliance in Support of Patriotic Democratic Movements of China—the group that, for decades, organized the city’s annual vigil to commemorate the victims of the 1989 Tiananmen Square crackdown. According to the Associated Press, this vigil was the only large-scale public remembrance of the event permitted on Chinese soil, until authorities banned it in 2020, citing anti-pandemic measures.
Chow, who is defending herself in court, argued passionately that the indictment was both unacceptably broad and vague. She pointed out that prosecutors had failed to specify what constituted the "unlawful means" at the heart of the charge. Chow warned that this could amount to a "catch-all charge," potentially ensnaring a wide range of peaceful activities under the umbrella of subversion. Her defense, echoing concerns raised by legal analysts and human rights groups, questioned whether such ambiguity was compatible with the rule of law.
Judge Alex Lee, presiding over a three-judge panel specially approved by the government to oversee national security cases, acknowledged that the charge was indeed broad. However, he maintained that it was "not vague." Prosecutor Ned Lai, in turn, argued that "unlawful means" referred specifically to acts that contravened the Chinese constitution. He emphasized that the constitution enshrines the Communist Party’s leadership as the defining feature of socialism with Chinese characteristics and prohibits any attempt to damage the socialist system.
The court ultimately sided with the prosecution, ruling against Chow’s motion to dismiss the charges. Judge Lee announced that the panel would issue a written opinion in January 2026, leaving Chow and her co-defendants to await the next phase of their trial, which is scheduled to begin on January 22, 2026. According to the Macau Daily Times, Chow appeared calm as she received the decision, even managing a smile to supporters in the public gallery—a small gesture of resolve amid mounting legal and political pressure.
The case against Chow, Ho, and Lee is just one chapter in the broader story of Hong Kong’s shifting political landscape since the 2019 protests. The national security law, which Beijing imposed in response to those mass demonstrations, has been credited by the Hong Kong government with restoring stability to the city. Authorities argue that the law is necessary to prevent unrest and maintain order, a position they have repeated in the face of international criticism. However, many activists, legal scholars, and rights organizations see the law as a tool for stifling dissent and eroding the city’s once-vibrant civil society.
The Hong Kong Alliance, the group at the center of this case, came under increasing scrutiny after the vigil ban. Police launched investigations, accusing the Alliance of acting as a foreign agent—a charge the group has consistently denied. Refusing to cooperate with the authorities, the Alliance ultimately voted to disband in 2021. But the legal fallout didn’t end there. In 2023, Chow and two other core members were convicted for failing to provide information to the authorities, receiving sentences of four and a half months each. In a rare victory for the city’s embattled pro-democracy movement, Hong Kong’s top court overturned those convictions in March 2025.
Public commemorations of the Tiananmen crackdown have also changed dramatically. Since the lifting of pandemic-era restrictions, the park that once hosted the solemn candlelight vigil has instead become the site of a carnival celebrating Chinese food and products on the anniversary of June 4. For many, this shift symbolizes the broader transformation of Hong Kong’s public sphere—from a place where dissent and remembrance were tolerated, to one where official narratives dominate and alternative voices are marginalized.
Reactions to the court’s decision have been swift and polarized. Fernando Cheung, spokesperson for Amnesty International Hong Kong Overseas, did not mince words. He stated, "The authorities are weaponizing the overly broad concept of ‘national security’ to suppress freedom of expression with impunity." Cheung argued that "commemorating the Tiananmen crackdown should never have been prosecuted" and called for the immediate release of those detained for what he described as the peaceful exercise of fundamental rights.
The Hong Kong government, for its part, has remained steadfast in its defense of the national security law, insisting that it has restored order and stability following the unrest of 2019. Officials maintain that the law targets only a small minority engaged in activities that threaten national security, and that ordinary freedoms remain protected. Yet critics point to the chilling effect the law has had on civic groups, media organizations, and even academics, many of whom have curtailed their activities or left the city altogether.
The upcoming trial in January 2026 is likely to be closely watched, both in Hong Kong and internationally. For supporters of the accused, the case is a test of whether the city’s courts can still act as a check on government power. For others, it is a reminder of the new legal and political realities that have taken hold since 2020. As the city awaits the next chapter, the fate of Chow Hang-tung and her colleagues may well shape the future of dissent—and memory—in Hong Kong.
With the legal battle far from over, and the city’s political climate more charged than ever, all eyes will be on the courtroom in January. The outcome could resonate far beyond the fate of three activists, touching on the very meaning of freedom, justice, and remembrance in Hong Kong’s changing society.
