A few days ago, I attended an event where someone asked, "Why doesn’t the CCP just ‘take care’ of Jimmy Lai? Wouldn't that be the simplest solution?"
It was the launch of Mark Clifford’s new book, The Troublemaker. I was there as an audience to show support. During the discussion, the topic of how authoritarian regimes deal with dissidents came up. Everyone understood the implications of "take care" in this context.
After the book launch, I stayed behind with a few acquaintances to discuss the issue further. My take is this: "A living, breathing Jimmy Lai is far more useful to the CCP."
Why is that?
The CCP's goal is to destroy the symbol of Jimmy Lai. What does Jimmy Lai represent? He embodies a certain kind of Hongkonger — someone who fled Communist China’s oppression, found freedom and opportunity in Hong Kong, and ultimately dedicated himself to defending the city’s freedom and universal values. Back in the 1950s and 60s, there were many people like him in Hong Kong — people who chose to become Hongkongers. Life in Hong Kong wasn’t easy back then, but after decades of hard work, the city became the place we all grew to know and love.
If the CCP were to act "without thinking" and permanently eliminate Jimmy Lai, the only message they'd be sending to the world is: "So what?" But the bigger problem for them is that such an act would immortalize him. He would be elevated from a mortal being to a spiritual figure — a "Hong Kong version of Martin Luther King" — remembered and revered for generations.
Sure, some might argue that in a decade or so, people will forget who Jimmy was. But in today’s world, thanks to the information revolution, the half-life of collective memory has grown much longer. People live longer too, and many are dedicated to preserving these histories. It’s been five years since 2019, and yet, many of the events of that year remain vivid in people's memories. Ten, twenty, or even fifty years from now, Hong Kong’s history will still not be forgotten.
That’s why the CCP’s strategy is not to simply erase people. CCP wants to rewrite history. And to rewrite history, you must first change the people within it. That means forcing them to publicly confess, discrediting them, and obliterating their dignity and reputation. Once that’s achieved, these people lose all symbolic value. By then, whether or not they remain alive becomes irrelevant.
That’s why, in the Apple Daily case, the authorities pressured other employees to become witnesses against Jimmy Lai. The goal was to make it appear as though even his own people had betrayed him.
The CCP's ultimate goal is for Jimmy Lai to surrender and confess. But they have gravely underestimated him.
Frankly, I understand why our former colleagues might seek leniency through compromise. But they’re being naive. After they testify, they will have exhausted their usefulness to the CCP. They will have no bargaining power left.
I even suspect that because Jimmy Lai remains resilient, he is inadvertently protecting his former colleagues. The CCP might still see value in using them to push the narrative further — telling even more outlandish lies — just to reinforce the image of Jimmy Lai as a villain. In doing so, these witnesses maintain some utility to the regime.
From a game theory perspective, Jimmy’s best option is to stand firm. It’s not just a moral decision or an act of self-loyalty — it’s also the optimal choice for everyone involved.
Meanwhile, the CCP will continue to use every tactic they can think of to crush Jimmy Lai as a person and reshape the world's perception of him.
In chess, this scenario is known as a stalemate. When your opponent assumes you’ve already lost, but you deny them the ability to win, you create a stalemate.
I’m sharing this idea because I believe CCP needs to recognize this for what it is: a stalemate. Only then will there be a chance for it to end.
At Mark Clifford’s book launch, he made a remark that resonated deeply with me. He said he hadn’t had the chance to see Jimmy Lai in the past four years. Yet, from his court appearances, it’s clear that his years of ascetic living had only made him stronger and more faithful to himself.
Jimmy’s religious faith has given him wisdom. He was baptized after the 1997 handover, as he felt that one day he would need the support of faith to endure what was to come.
For the record, I am not a Christian. Nor am I an atheist. I identify as an agnostic. I believe that humanity will never be able to definitively prove or disprove the existence of God. From a philosophical and logical standpoint, such questions are inherently unanswerable.
But I do understand the power of beliefs — whether it’s religious faith or secular belief. Faith has meaning for individuals and society alike. Our personal sense of morality is often rooted in these beliefs. Some people claim to believe in "nothing," but in truth, they simply aren’t aware of what they believe in.
There are several verses from the Bible that, despite my secular disposition, I find profoundly powerful:
"Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." (Luke 23:34)
"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven." (Luke 6:37)
These words probably come to Jimmy’s mind when he thinks of our former colleagues who testified against him. Of course, he must challenge their lies directly, but he can still focus his response on the claims rather than the people.
The judges and prosecutors are both attempting to prove that Jimmy "incited hatred." Jimmy’s response, however, is to speak about his belief in freedom and his love for Hong Kong.
Everything he does is born from faith and gratitude. There is no hatred in him — not for the regime, not for the judges, and not for his former colleagues who testified falsely against him.
I also want to clarify something: Jimmy Lai never once asked that anyone "resist to the end." I, for one, am an example of someone who walked away, and he never blamed me for it.
I remember the first time I resigned in 2010 to move back to the U.S. Back then, Hong Kong was still relatively safe. He told me, "Simon, your future is in Hong Kong. It would be a wrong move for you to leave."
But when I left for good in 2020, he fully supported my decision. He didn’t tell me what to do or how to live my life.
"I tell you, my friends, do not be afraid of those who kill the body and after that can do no more. But I will show you whom you should fear: Fear Him who, after your body has been killed, has authority to throw you into hell. Yes, I tell you, fear Him." (Luke 12:4-5)
For those with religious faith, especially Christians, this passage has deeper meaning — such as who truly holds "authority" and what "hell" represents. But as an ordinary layperson, I don’t know what happens after we die. I don’t know if there’s a soul or what form it might take.
I can only interpret the passage at face value. To me, the message is this: Ideas are bulletproof. Beliefs cannot be destroyed by bullets. If you betray your beliefs, you surrender even the few inches of freedom that exist between your two ears.
Allow me to conclude with the words of another "worldly" philosopher, Marcus Aurelius:
"The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury."
Today is Jimmy’s birthday, and here’s my message for him:
Dear Jimmy, I wish you peace. We will meet again — not in heaven, but in the U.K. or the U.S. When that day comes, we’ll go out for a good meal together.
Alternatively, here’s the link to kindle version of the book and the audio book.
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