Caution required when using video evidence in court cases

Iam shocked at the court’s decision to imprison retired police superintendent Frankly Chu King-wai for hitting a pedestrian during the 2014 “Occupy Central” protest. The case relied heavily on video evidence, in which Chu was filmed hitting a man on his neck from behind. In the age of smartphones and internet, our actions are frequently being taped. As the saying goes, “we will have the truth if we have photos”, it is largely believed that what is caught on tape is the truth and nothing but the whole truth.

In reality, short video clips often lack context, and therefore interpretation is still heavily relied on to give meaning to what actually happened.

Take the Osman Cheng Chung-hang footage as an example. Cheng said that he was only “passing by” that evening. As the court found him to be a credible witness, he is now said to be an unarmed bystander.

If Cheng was unequivocally an unarmed bystander, hitting him with a police baton was obviously unlawful. But we all know how the 79-day “Occupy” protest was like. Each day, many office workers joined the occupation after work to show solidarity. Some brought lunchboxes to eat at the sites during lunch hours so that they felt themselves participating in this “cool” event.

Objectively speaking, the “Occupy” movement was a historic moment. It was also cool and chic, something that did not happen every day. As a result, people all wanted to be a part of it, so that at the least they could take some selfies and post on Facebook. That’s also the reason why the protest lasted for more than two months and involved so many people.

Given this context, in many instances there was no clear line between a bystander and an active participant in the “Occupy” protest. Was that receptionist who was clocking out and preparing to go to an “Occupy” site a protester? Was that person who just charged at the police but was about to leave and go home to take a shower in preparation of next day’s work at the office still a protester? Where exactly was the line?

In the video where Chu was seen as hitting Cheng, the police were being rough with a group of citizens who looked just like you and me. These young men and women were wearing T-shirts and jeans and backpacks — harmless enough, and one would be tempted to ask what have they done to deserve the treatment? We cannot find the answer to that in the videos themselves, but I tend to believe that something happened before that scene, which made the police decide that they had to do what they did to restore public order.

What I find particularly unfair about the prosecution of Chu is the fact that he was merely executing orders issued by his superior to defend and reopen Argyle Street. He and others were issued batons, which means that the need to use them was anticipated.

When a police officer is holding baton, it is common sense that his hand is occupied and he needs to use it as an extension of his hand. That’s why in response to the video, the officer said, “It looks like I hit (Cheng) with a baton, but actually I only used the baton as an extension of my arm to pat on his back to drive him away.” Chu also said that if he had intentionally used a baton against Cheng, Cheng would have experienced a shocking impact and an immediate fall or some sort of injury, rather than the normal reaction seen in the footage.

I found Chu’s explanation very convincing. Under the circumstances, it would be unreasonable to expect police officers interact with the crowd with his bare hands even when a baton is strictly speaking unnecessary — the constant switching of gear would undermine the police officer’s effectiveness and may even endanger him should the situation escalate rapidly.

All in all, Chu’s action during that fateful day was not personal in nature. It involved orders given from above as well as operation procedures and guidelines. If there was fault, the commissioner of police should be the first to take the fall.