Nathan Law was on his way to becoming a model Hong Kong citizen in the eyes of the Chinese government.

He grew up in an apolitical family living in government housing, raised by working-class parents who immigrated to Hong Kong from mainland China. He attended a pro-Beijing secondary school where teachers never had a bad word to say about China’s authoritarian government and shied away from topics such as human rights and democracy movements.

But by his first year of university, Law had committed himself completely to fighting for greater democracy in Hong Kong and challenging China’s ruling Communist party. In September, at 23, he became the youngest person ever elected to Hong Kong’s legislature, part of a wave of progressive politicians swept into office in the wake of mass democracy protests in 2014.

Law’s brief legislative career came to an abrupt end last week, when a judge disqualified him and three other lawmakers for failing to read properly the oath of office.

For years it has been a tradition among the pro-democracy camp to add small acts of defiance during the swearing-in. But last week, Hong Kong’s high court ruled that Law’s actions at the ceremony showed his oath was insincere. He had prefaced his oath with a quote from Gandhi and a pledge to serve the Hong Kong people.

“Beijing’s tactic is very clear: they want to suppress the more progressive voices in Hong Kong,” he tells the Guardian. “It’s like a stick and carrot: they use the stick on the progressive forces, and the carrot with the moderate pro-democracy parties.”



There is a growing movement seeking to resist closer integration with mainland China, which has put activists directly at odds with China’s leaders, who have increasingly exerted greater control over Hong Kong in response.

The Hong Kong government sued to have the four lawmakers removed from office, after successfully barring two pro-independence legislators from taking their seats in November. All six altered their official oaths at a swearing-in ceremony in October 2016, prompting the Chinese government to employ a seldom-used power in the most direct interference in the city’s politics since the UK handed Hong Kong back to China in 1997.

Law may not appeal against the ruling, instead hoping he can force the government to hold new elections and win back his seat. Byelections are supposed to take place 21 days after all appeals are exhausted.

Another factor is cost. He estimates taking an appeal all the way to Hong Kong’s highest court would cost more than HK$1m (£100,000), sending him into debt and potentially making him ineligible to run in byelections if he is forced to declare bankruptcy.

Despite his optimistic rhetoric, Law is visibly tired from the ordeal. The previously youthful and bright legislator has been replaced by a man who no longer smiles, dejected and exhausted.

“I’m a nobody who has two weeks to pack myself up,” Law said in a monotone voice. “It’s uncomfortable, but the way I see it is: in the first place I didn’t have my seat, so if I lose it then it’s OK, I’m just going back to the beginning.

“If I’m lucky, I’ll have it in the future,” he added.

Law said he has no regrets, citing the fact that pro-democracy lawmakers have long made political statements during the oath-taking ceremony with no backlash.

The government’s efforts have denied more than 185,000 voters, about 8% of ballots cast, a voice in the legislature and robbed the pro-democracy camp of its veto power over major legislation, one of the most powerful tools in a parliament stacked with pro-establishment legislators. Law alone received over 50,000 votes, one of the highest for a single candidate.

Long before he convinced the generally pragmatic Hong Kong electorate they would be well-served by a recent university graduate who has been arrested a dozen times, Law was on a path to anonymity.

He moved to Hong Kong from mainland China with his mother at the age of six. His father worked odd jobs in construction while his mother oscillated between working as a street cleaner and a homemaker. Their view on politics was common in China: keep your head down and do not make too much fuss, a necessary tool for survival in a country where speaking out can quickly lead to jail time.

Before Liu Xiaobo, a Chinese democracy activist, won the Nobel peace prize in 2010, Law had little interest in the concepts of freedom and social justice.

But after Liu was awarded the prize while serving an 11-year sentence for subversion, Law’s principal denounced Liu in front of the entire school, saying he was merely a “tool of foreign forces trying to disrupt China’s order”, echoing the Beijing line.

“I was confused,” Law said. “I thought only a great person could win the Nobel peace prize, because it’s the most honourable and prestigious prize.”

After the school assembly, he began to read Liu’s work and about democracy movements around the world, transforming almost overnight.

At university he joined the student union, participating in class boycotts during protests against a patriotic education curriculum and eventually becoming one of the leaders of an 11-week sit-in in 2014 calling for direct elections for Hong Kong’s leader.

Those protests, dubbed the “umbrella movement”, failed to win any concessions from the government, but inspired a generation of young people to become more politically active. Law’s seat in the legislature was widely seen as a direct result of the demonstrations, lending it a symbolic value the government was eager to erase.

Law’s parents often told him to stay out of politics, his mother repeatedly saying: “Don’t mess with the Chinese Communist party – they are terrible but you can never win.”

His shock election victory seemed to defy that sentiment, at least for a time, until Law was again surprised by his sudden disqualification.

“Beijing wants to ensure Hong Kong is easily controlled, and because they choose to suppress our voices, there has been definite harm to our democracy,” Law said.

Losing his seat in parliament came at the end of an emotionally difficult week. The day before he was ejected from the legislature, Liu Xiaobo died of liver cancer under heavy guard in a Chinese hospital. It was the same day as Law’s 24th birthday.

“The 13 July is no longer a celebration for me, even though it is my birthday,” he said. “A moral giant has died, it’s not right for celebration.”

In his current crisis, Law has taken inspiration from Liu.

“I don’t even dare to think of rest because I have a huge responsibility on my shoulders and I won’t give up fighting,” he said. “If Liu Xiaobo can persist under much harsher circumstances, so can we.”