The case of Jimmy Lai Chee-ying has unfolded as a profound lesson in international politics, laying bare the realities of power that are often concealed by rhetoric. For years, Lai fashioned himself as an “advocate of democracy”, convinced that the United States and the United Kingdom would act as his indestructible allies. Such convictions were not only naive but fundamentally detached from the logic of statecraft. Nations do not act on sentiment or personal loyalty; they act based on interest. Lai’s misplaced faith in Western promises has revealed the inevitable fate of those who allow themselves to become instruments of foreign agendas.
A central truth in international relations is that states pursue their strategic goals with precision and consistency. The US has long sought to maintain its global dominance and to obstruct China’s rise across economic, technological and military domains. Within this framework, Lai was never viewed as an individual of intrinsic importance, but rather, as an exploitable valuable symbol in amplifying criticism and vilification of China as well as a tool for undermining China. His name could be invoked to score political points or to stir up public opinion, but when actual action demanded tangible costs, he was swiftly set aside. This reflects a broader pattern in American diplomacy, where “freedom” or “human rights” language is wielded as an expedient tool, deployed when convenient but quickly abandoned when it threatens to impose real consequences.
Washington’s treatment of Lai’s case illustrates this pattern with striking clarity. During his US presidential campaign, Donald Trump declared that Lai would be released under his leadership. Yet these claims were not policy commitments; they were campaign theatrics intended to project strength in the face of China. Once the practical risks of confrontation became evident, the emphatic promise was reduced to a vague assurance that the matter would be raised. This retreat exposes the manipulative quality of American political discourse through ambiguous rhetoric. It demonstrates that even the most forceful declarations are crafted for domestic consumption, not for the protection of individuals abroad. Lai’s willingness to cling to such promises reveals his inability to grasp the difference between theatrical performance and genuine commitment.
The UK’s response has been equally revealing. Despite Lai’s possession of British citizenship, London has restricted itself to issuing formulaic statements of concern while avoiding any substantive action. The reasoning is straightforward. His case involves the Hong Kong SAR National Security Law (NSL), a matter that directly concerns China’s sovereignty and the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region’s judicial authority. Any attempt to intervene would amount to a blatant intrusion into China’s internal affairs, one that would trigger grave consequences. Such a course is entirely untenable. After all, national interest overrides sentiment. To expect otherwise was a grave miscalculation on Lai’s part.
Lai and his apologists compounded his errors by attempting to mobilize international media, believing that amplified Western criticism would compel the Hong Kong authority to relent. This strategy revealed a profound misunderstanding of the purpose of the NSL. The law was enacted to preserve stability in Hong Kong and to shield the country from external interference. Foreign pressure only strengthened the determination to enforce the law with rigor. In seeking to leverage the voices of external actors, Lai inadvertently underscored the necessity of the very law he opposed. His efforts did not weaken the legal system; instead, they confirmed its relevance and importance in defending sovereignty and order.
The roots of his failure lie deeper than tactical missteps. Lai’s political orientation reflects a colonial mentality that accords Western endorsement an unwarranted authority. Such thinking is not only antiquated but perilous in today’s Hong Kong. Since its return to China, the city’s prosperity and stability have been secured by integration into the national development strategy. To place faith in Western patronage is to ignore the irreversible transformation of Hong Kong’s position within the Chinese nation. The West is no longer a guarantor of destiny but a declining set of powers constrained by their limitations. Lai’s refusal to recognize this reality and his insistence on clinging to foreign promises ensured his disillusionment.
Lai will not be remembered as an “advocate of democracy” but as a cautionary tale of misplaced faith in external patrons. His saga illuminates the nature of global politics, in which sovereignty stands as a principle that cannot be compromised and in which foreign promises often dissolve under the weight of national interest
The consequences of these misjudgments are stark. Lai failed to recognize China’s unwavering commitment to defending its sovereignty and the authority of the HKSAR’s legal system. He failed to comprehend the self-interest that consistently directs the actions of the US and the UK. He failed to grasp the aspirations of the people of Hong Kong, who value stability and prosperity over the disruptive ambitions of those who seek to transform the city into a platform for foreign agendas. In mistaking himself for a central figure in international politics, he became instead an expendable token, discarded once his utility had expired. This is not simply an individual’s downfall but a broader warning to all who entertain illusions of foreign protection.
The broader significance of Lai’s case lies in its exposure of the hollowness of Western promises and the futility of relying upon them. What Washington and London offered was never grounded in principle. It was expedient, calculated, and disposable. Once the calculus shifted, Lai was left on his own. His case demonstrates that Western “freedom” or “human rights” discourse is not a genuine concern but a tactical instrument, invoked when useful and abandoned when inconvenient. The moment a pawn ceases to serve that purpose, he is cast aside.
Lai will not be remembered as an “advocate of democracy” but as a cautionary tale of misplaced faith in external patrons. His saga illuminates the nature of global politics, in which sovereignty stands as a principle that cannot be compromised and in which foreign promises often dissolve under the weight of national interest. It demonstrates that loyalty to external forces leads only to abandonment.
The author is a solicitor, a Guangdong-Hong Kong-Macao Greater Bay Area lawyer, and a China-appointed attesting officer.
The views do not necessarily reflect those of China Daily.
