Hostage-taking is the “gift” that keeps on giving.

I thought this ruefully as I watched the scars in my children—more than two years after my release.

When I was detained for over three years, I was not the only one held hostage. Everyone around me suffered. There was confusion—why? There was fear—what next? The damage did not end at the prison gates.

Unlike criminal kidnappers, governments do not send ransom notes.
Instead, the targeted country begins to write its own. What did we do to provoke this? What should we avoid saying next time?
Gradually, it grows quieter. It becomes a diminished version of itself.

Hostage diplomacy makes speaking up for human rights carry a harsh human cost.  

After what happened in my case, which Australian leader does not hesitate before “upsetting China”?

We cannot retaliate in kind. Australia cannot arbitrarily detain a Chinese citizen to force concessions. Our openness and public accountability are exploited.

Even now, when I advocate publicly, there is a shadow thought: What if, behind closed doors, China says—this is what happens when we release one hostage?

The more entangled we are with hostage takers, the more we risk becoming hostages ourselves.

Around the world we see the emergence of Hostage Republics—where no one is entirely free from coercion.

In China’s case, say or do something the Chinese government dislikes, and the consequences do not stop with you. They extend outward—to family, to colleagues, to entire communities.
Journalists, petitioners, business people, religion practitioners –in order to seek truth and justice, are forced to choose between their causes and families. After I was arrested, even former interviewees were threatened with dismissal if they did not erase their connections with me. Across the diaspora, many live with quiet fear: that speaking out—on Uyghurs, Tibet, Hong Kong, Taiwan—could bring consequences for loved ones back home.

This is not new. Imperial China had phrases like zhulian jiuzuand manmen chaozhan—collective punishment that extended to entire families and clans.

There are carrots too. During my detention, I heard my children’s voices only once.
Despite requesting a phone call from the very beginning, it came only after a change of government in Australia, when Prime Minister Anthony Albanese met President Xi Jinping at the G20.  It sends a subtle message – China will reward the ‘right’ government, the ‘good’ politicians.  

And the logic of hostage-taking extends far beyond individuals.

“China’s rice is hard to eat,” goes a Chinese saying—a reminder that economic dependence carries invisible strings. Markets can become leverage. Access can become control.

The University of Sydney has kept silent after a former student Cheng was sentenced to six years in prison for taking part in pro-democracy protests in Australia.  

Artists, celebrities, athletes—many surrender their freedom to speak in exchange for access to the Chinese market.  They are warned of the consequences. Acclaimed writer Yan Geling lost millions in royalties after criticizing human trafficking; her works were banned in China. A single voice punished silences a thousand more.

Today, under a rising techno-autocracy, surveillance, transnational repression, and economic coercion work together—sticks and carrots—to create a world of invisible hostages.

What, then, should we do?

We are not the first to face this kind of coercion. There is hard-earned wisdom from another arena where power, fear, and control intersect: domestic violence.

Counsellors do not tell victims to appease their abuser. They do not advise them to speak more softly, to avoid “triggering” harm, or to accept responsibility for the violence inflicted on them.

They tell them to recognise the abuse for what it is.

To refuse self-blame.

To rebuild independence.

To reach out—to others, to institutions, to allies—so they are not isolated.

To set boundaries, and to understand that boundaries without consequences are meaningless.

Politically, we can replicate the strategy, call out hostage-taking as coercion.

We can act collectively, so that the cost of targeting one country is borne by many.

We can reduce our vulnerabilities—economic, political, institutional—so that leverage becomes harder to apply.

And we can impose consequences—legal, diplomatic, reputational—so that hostage-taking is not a low-cost, high-reward strategy.

Most of all, we can support those who speak out – to inspire thousands more.  

By: Cheng Lei – Australian Former Unlawful Detainee in China (2020 – 2023)