“In the beginning was the Word”, goes the first sentence in Saint John’s gospel. Words are powerful. They change lives. In communities governed by the rule of law, it is through the words of magistrates and judges that the fabric of society is maintained. These tribunals have no executive power. It is by words alone that issues are determined, and the reasons behind them expressed. But words are also limited by the language in which they are expressed. A court judgment in English is meaningless to those unfamiliar with the language. Common law is judge-made law and is inextricably linked to the English language. Its origins go back to King John’s Magna Carta in 1215. It is built upon precedents, which are invariably expressed in English. In Asia, the common law prevails in much of the former British Empire: Pakistan, India, Sri Lanka, Malaysia, Singapore, Brunei – and Hong Kong. Article 8 of the Basic Law lays down the common law as the governing legal system. Article 9 makes English an official language. And Article 92 says that judges may be recruited from other common law jurisdictions: by implication, where English is the dominant language. Many outside Hong Kong have expressed surprise that foreign judges , from Britain, Australia and elsewhere, should be laying down the law in a Chinese region. They fail to understand the significance of Beijing’s commitment to “ one country, two systems ” – a policy laid down long before any Sino-British discussions concerning Hong Kong’s future. It is set for the long term. In Beijing’s forward planning, Hong Kong has a pivotal role not only as a global financial centre but also as part of the Qianhai innovation and technological hub in southern China. The use of English would seem a necessary ingredient. The central government has displayed much tolerance and pragmatism over Hong Kong, accepting a lifestyle and plurality not found on the mainland. But China is also a proud nation. It feels keenly the humiliation suffered at the hands of Western powers during the Qing dynasty, right through to the second world war. Would having English as an official language in Hong Kong after 2047 be too painful a reminder of such humiliation? And yet, without English officially recognised, the common law system cannot work. This is a conundrum which every Hong Kong lawyer and judge should be sensitive to, and recognise. What does this mean in practice? Surely it is this: when judgments are handed down in English, every endeavour should be made to express them in simple language to enable them to be easily understood – and translated into Chinese. “Transparency” in the system is extremely important to maintain respect in the rule of law; in Hong Kong it is doubly so. With this is another consideration: the discipline of law. As the Law Society said recently: when a court makes a decision, the “process is open, transparent and based on proper reasoning”. That, of course, presupposes that there is material put before the court for reasoning to apply. What if the matter put before the court is pure rubbish? Beyond reason? This is where the discipline of law should kick in. Take the August 12 judgment in Kwok Cheuk-kin vs the chief executive in an application for a judicial review to impeach the chief executive’s application to the Legislative Council for funding regarding the Lantau Tomorrow project. Kwok is a serial applicant and appears to glory in the nickname given him by the media, “ judicial review king ”. The avowed purpose of his application was to obtain the grant of legal aid. But the application was so far outside the scope of judicial review that it should simply have been dismissed out of hand with a few words. To engage with the points put forward was to give oxygen to absurdities and to debase the rule of law. This was a small matter, but illustrative of a much larger problem: a climate of permissiveness has run through the courts for some 20 years. Faced with such a judgment, somebody not fully familiar with the English language would be totally confused and ask: is this how the common law operates? What is all this about? What is transparent in a case like Kwok’s is the vacuity of court proceedings. When an abuse of process stares a court in the face, the only appropriate response is to call it out, nip it in the bud. For otherwise, it loosens the fabric of discipline and saps the vigour of the judicial process. It gives rise, by small degrees, to a climate of permissiveness: if you can get legal aid to put up your case, why not have a go at the government? Hong Kong courts should keep Basic Law out of political games Surely the time has come for the chief justice to take the matter in hand. The fundamental question is this: is the Hong Kong legal process, particularly in the public law field, truly and vigorously implementing the policy of one country, two systems as applied locally? Allied with this is the question: can it be taken for granted that, after June 2047, English will continue as an official language? And what might be the consequence for the continuation of common law if the answer is no? These are existential questions which should engage every lawyer, magistrate and judge. What does one country, two systems mean? Just a showpiece that lasts for 50 years, with the curtain falling at midnight on June 30, 2047, or a long-term policy for Hong Kong? For those engaged in the law, it boils down to two things: sensitivity and discipline. Sensitivity to Hong Kong’s unique position in the world, and discipline in maintaining the rule of law. Henry Litton is a retired Court of Final Appeal judge and author of “Is the Hong Kong Judiciary Sleepwalking to 2047?”