The European Parliament making moves to condemn China over human rights abuses may play well in modern day, but exposes the fault lines in a changing global order - the West today should no longer freely lecture the rest of the world on moral issues.
The European Union’s approach to Hong Kong epitomizes the contradiction between moral rhetoric, economic pragmatism and the unforgiving logic of geopolitics.
The November 28, 2024 European Parliament resolution condemning alleged human rights violations in Hong Kong is the quintessential example of diplomatic theatre—a performance of ethical outrage devoid of substantive action. Passed with overwhelming support, the resolution rails against China’s National Security Law (NSL) and the imprisonment of pro-democracy activists.
Furthermore, it brandishes provocative recommendations: sanctions against Chief Executive John Lee, suspension of Hong Kong’s favourable customs treatment, extradition treaty interruptions, and ICJ proceedings. Such proposals evaporate when confronted with political realities and economic arithmetic: Hong Kong remains the EU’s third-largest Asian trading partner, with €40 billion in annual trade and over 1,500 European companies deeply embedded in their ecosystem.
The European Commission’s 26th annual report on Hong Kong in June 2023 already signaled this tension, offering an unprecedented acknowledgment of the NSL’s extraterritorial reach and the “continuous deterioration of fundamental freedoms.” Yet, like the Parliament’s resolution, the report’s impact on Hong Kong has been utterly toothless.
These gestures capture international headlines—specifically in the targeted regions—while sidestepping the meaningful actions that such serious accusations demand. They highlight the institutions’ impotence: the Parliament’s resolutions, lacking binding authority, cannot dictate European Commission policies or compel action from the 27 states. And the Commission, able to impose sanctions on trading with China, does nothing beyond reporting.
In contrast to the U.S.’ targeted sanctions and revocation of special status, the EU’s approach remains cautious, restricted to symbolic measures such as “limiting” trade talks and technology exports. Confronting China risks economic backlash, a price European governments are unwilling to pay.
Indeed, the NSL has solidified Beijing’s control over Hong Kong, with external condemnations yielding no tangible effect. Brussels frames Hong Kong’s fluctuating freedoms as a result of what it views as Beijing’s impositions, while Beijing, in contrast, sees itself as fully justified in exercising this control. The “one country, two systems” status, combined with the U.K.’s diminished global standing post-Brexit, limits Europe’s capacity to exert pressure. These decisions thus stand not as a catalyst for change, but as a testament to geopolitical impotence, illustrating the divide between lofty principles and the realities of power.
The Illusion of Universal Human Rights
Human rights are enshrined in documents like the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948) and various treaties. While their application is binding in certain contexts, enforcement often hinges on voluntary adherence, making consistent application challenging.
This paradox calls for a nuanced understanding of human rights advocacy. The weakness in Western human rights rhetoric lies not in its ideals, but in its presumption of universal applicability—a form of interventionism that disregards alternative political systems, as if governance could be reduced to a single, narrow template. A Chinese citizen or Hong Kong resident inhabits an epistemological paradigm shaped by millennia of distinct cultural and political trajectories, fundamentally different from Western liberal democracy. Defining Hong Kong as democratic in the Western sense is simplistic, as it never fully embraced liberal democratic principles. Prior to the NSL, it operated more as a managed democracy, with significant control over political processes. A one-size-fits-all prototype of human rights is, therefore, unrealistic.
Consider the duplicity in such posturing. Imagine if the Chinese National People’s Congress were to scrutinize European governance with methodical precision and pass its own resolutions. Europe might want to ask itself why they don’t even bother. After all, the EU’s human rights record is far from immaculate. From the European Parliament’s Qatar corruption scandal—where representatives softened their stance on human rights in exchange for favors, to the Digital Services Act—criticized for forcing platforms into excessive censorship to avoid penalties— the cracks are hard to ignore. And let’s not forget von der Leyen’s charmingly titled “innovative solutions” for migrant deportation camps outside the EU—the dystopian “return hubs”—a proposal that truly redefines humanitarianism.
Recent national cases include Germany’s Siemens bribery and Volkswagen emissions fraud, France’s police brutality during the gilets jaunes protests, Italy’s draconian anti-immigration policies, and Spain’s corruption allegations—implicating the Attorney General, a cornered Prime Minister, his wife, brother, and former Socialist ministers—all marked by open defiance of the judiciary; Greece’s immigrant detention camps face abuse claims, and the usual rule-of-law offenders: Hungary’s democratic backsliding and Poland’s judicial overhaul. These are not isolated incidents but structural failures that erode the very principles of rights and justice.
The U.S. presents a more glaring hypocrisy. A self-proclaimed beacon of democracy, its global interventions reveal a tragic track record. In Iraq, Syria, and Afghanistan, nation-building replaced complex sociopolitical ecosystems with additional chaos and sectarian violence. Domestically, it struggles as well: Guantanamo Bay’s indefinite detentions, systemic racism, and mistreatment of asylum seekers. In 2021, Twitter and Facebook—hailed as the defenders of free speech—suspended Trump’s accounts while still being president.
The Geopolitics of Moral Crusading: Rhetoric vs. Reality
What underlying rationale moves Europe to preach moral narratives globally, despite their demonstrable impracticality? The answer lies in an intricate constellation of historical trajectories, cultural self-perception, and inherited ideological reflexes.
Europe’s mission, rooted in Christian traditions and Enlightenment legacy, views democracy promotion beyond foreign policy—it is a quasi-religious obligation based on equality, justice, and individual freedoms. Yet this narrative conveniently overlooks a blood-stained historical ledger. Merely decades ago, these same powers orchestrated two world wars that demolished the very humanitarian principles they now righteously champion.
From the ashes of conflict, the EU rose as a symbol of reconciliation, its human rights advocacy shaped by this trauma. While blending sincere aspirations with a drive to universalize its ideals, the rhetoric sometimes turns performative. Just legitimacy requires more than declarations; it demands an acknowledgment that no system holds superiority. Whether one likes or dislikes other systems, singling out China while ignoring other severe human rights offenders exposes contradictions.
Notably, the EU’s sharp focus on Hong Kong and Xinjiang—including the March 2024 ban on goods linked to forced labor, whose consistency, effectiveness, and geopolitical impact remain questionable—contrasts with its selective silence on abuses by allies or within its own borders. This reveals double standards shaped by domestic politics, where leaders prioritize reassuring audiences that they care about major issues over genuine humanitarian commitment.
While verbally aligned with the U.S., the EU’s actions betray a dire distinction: America acts, Europe pontificates. The 2023 US State Department’s Human Rights Report on Hong Kong is closely mirrored by the EU. Both emphasize China’s long-arm jurisdiction and the NSL’s impact on press freedom, political expression, and autonomy. However, Washington imposed sanctions and revoked Hong Kong’s special status already in 2020, while Europe timidly echoes rhetoric, offering symbolic resolutions devoid of meaningful action. This divergence exposes the EU’s core limitation: the economic giant-political dwarf dilemma.
Europe’s unquestioning alignment with the U.S. is a long-term misstep. Shared ideological foundations no longer suffice, especially as the U.S. routinely prioritizes geopolitical dominance and self-interest over democratic principles or human rights. Meanwhile, the persistent Western focus on promoting democracy has done little to alter China’s system, with decades of engagement policy aiding its economic rise but failing to nudge its politics by even an inch.
China’s leadership, by contrast, openly prioritizes development over human rights, diverging from Western ideals. These values resonate differently in China, where democracy is not seen as essential for economic success. Many Chinese citizens view their government as legitimate and effective, with Harvard’s Ash Center reporting 95% satisfaction with Beijing’s leadership in 2020. This disconnect renders the EU’s distant criticisms ineffective, underscoring the need for a strategic recalibration.
Can Europe Evolve from Passive Observer to Active Global Player?
The EU remains trapped in diplomatic inertia, more comfortable issuing statements than shaping international outcomes. Its routine condemnations of certain countries rarely translate into effective sanctions or actions capable of driving meaningful change. At its core, the issue lies in the EU’s inability to evolve into a truly geopolitical actor.
The Hong Kong case exemplifies it: Europe has had little impact on its policies, Beijing’s stance, or broader geopolitics. It is widely acknowledged in Brussels that the HKSAR’s special trading status will remain unchanged, further illustrating its limited reach.
This underscores a vital truth: human rights cannot be realistically applied as a universal pattern but should reflect cultural, historical, and societal contexts. Lecturing other nations becomes not only ineffective but counterproductive. A candid global dialogue on human rights requires humility and acknowledgment that no single model has a monopoly on justice or dignity.
To remain relevant, the EU must transcend its geopolitical paralysis. The era of selective moral indignation and useless rhetoric has reached its zenith. Either Europe reimagines its role, or it will become a mere footnote in the evolving narrative of global power—a once-proud construct reduced to impotent declarations. The choice is unambiguous: genuine transformation or inevitable marginalization. The world does not wait, and neither should Europe.