Thứ Ba, 6 tháng 12, 2022

D. The new corps of volunteers on Weibo

In mainland China, Weibo is the equivalent of Twitter, and its content is strictly regu-

lated (→ p. 199), as with all the Chinese platforms. However, Weibo plays an essential role 

in the “fans’ economy.” Weibo is very lucrative for movie, reality TV, and music stars who 

have mastered mobilizing their communities.35 The race for popularity on this network has 

pushed many users to organize themselves in militant communities in order to support 

their idols or pay “water armies” (水军)36 to artificially increase the popularity of a 

star (or product) on the network. Weibo is thus a permanent battlefield between different 

communities of users defending their favorite celebrities.37

1. Diba

A well-known example among Chinese users is the group “Li Yi Ba” (李毅吧), which 

has morphed over time to become “Diba” (帝吧). “Liyiba” was originally a sub-section 

of an online forum named “tieba,” a community of users known for mocking a football 

player named Li Yi. It progressively became more organized and now regularly leads 

“campaigns” (出征 – as in “military campaigns”) against targets “outside the Great 

Chinese firewall” under the slogan “[when] Diba launches a military expedition not a blade 

of grass is spared” (帝吧出征,寸草不生). For instance, Diba attacked the Facebook 

page of the newly-elected head of the Taiwanese government Tsai Ing-Wen38 and 

35. Fan Shuhong, “Idol Hands: How China’s Super Fan Groups Make and Break Stars Via the Multi-Million Dollar 

‘Fan Economy,’” RADII (7 Jan. 2019).

36. Na, “Guns for Hire.”

37. Owen Churchill, “Hit Show Accused of Shirking Payment for Fake Reviews,” Sixth Tone (24 Feb. 2017). 

38. “帝吧出征fb表情包大战升级 _千万大陆网友翻墙占领脸书” (“Diba Gears Up to Trigger the War of 

Emojis. Ten Million Cyber-Citizens from the Mainland Seize Facebook by Crossing the Wall”), Sohu (20 Jan. 2019).

508

the international movement fighting for the rights of Uyghurs in early 2018. If Diba seems 

essentially active in China’s peripheral environment (Taiwan and Hong Kong notably), 

its campaigns can also strike more distant targets: they attacked the satirical Swedish 

show Svenska Nyheter in September 2018 (→ p. 532) and the Danish daily newspaper 

Jyllands-Posten in January 2020, after the publication of a caricature representing the flag 

of the PRC with the characteristics of the coronavirus.39

The caricature of a Chinese flag in which the stars have been replaced by coronaviruses, published 

by the Danish daily newspaper Jyllands-Posten on January 28, 2020, triggered a campaign 

by pro-Chinese trolls which Diba partly led, against the paper and Denmark more generally.

On Twitter, the group Diba used the account @D8China. Thanks to Twint, we were 

able to collect all the published tweets before the account was deleted in late October or early 

November 2019. The first was posted in April 2019 and targeted activist groups defending 

the rights of the Muslim Uyghur minority (and not Hong Kong demonstrators). The account 

showed its successes through an article it shared.40 @D8China did not participate in targeted 

campaigns but played the role of a propagandist, highlighting Diba’s successes and relaying 

Beijing’s watchwords: territorial unity, the fight against “biased Western media,” etc.

On Facebook, Diba has several official groups (and pages). Foremost among these is 

“Diba’s army group center” (帝吧中央集团军) created in 2015.41-42 In October 2019, it had 

83,000 members including 3,000 new members that subscribed during the previous 30 days. 

Diba also had several Facebook groups intended to organize its activities: “Diba’s campaign 

to protect Hong Kong” (帝吧出征守护香港),43 created in July 2019 with 8,000 members 

(October 2019), but also “Diba’s base of operations,” created in April 2016 and which had 

22,000 members (October 2019).44 To join some of these groups, administrators impose rules 

or submit users to questions which often consists in showing off one’s patriotism.

Diba was supposed to launch a campaign (出征) against Hong Kong protesters on 

July 23, but it was brought forward to July 22 and the announcement was made on the 

39. Diba’s implication was confirmed during our interviews in Denmark.

40. “中国网军出征 _维吾尔人权团体脸书遭洗版” (“The Army of Internet Users Goes After Uyghur 

Facebook Groups”), DW (11 Apr. 2019), https://archive.vn/bxgdZ; see also Zhang Han, “Patriotic Posts Flood East 

Turkestan Pages to Fight Untrue Reports on Xinjiang,” Global Times (10 Apr. 2019). 

41. https://www.facebook.com/dibazhongyangjituanjunxiaozu/; see also https://www.facebook.com/pg/

Antiindependence/community/?ref=page_internal.

42. 帝吧中央集团军– https://www.facebook.com/groups/1101110389929793/?ref=group_header.

43. https://www.facebook.com/groups/1655995351222347/?ref=search.

44. https://www.facebook.com/groups/1721233154831031/?ref=pages_groups_card&source_

id=832140356914881.

509

group’s Weibo account.45-46 The pages of certain Hong Kong protesters’ support 

groups were targeted in a well-defined modus operandi: the attackers copied and pasted 

messages (often the same messages) one after another to saturate the spaces. However, 

this time Diba was quickly detected and its main operators “doxxed”: their names, 

addresses, telephone numbers and bank account details were made public and some of 

these were used for enrolment applications in the PLA. The main operation was apparently 

cancelled by the organizers for fear of reprisals.47

2. Fanquan

Another operation was apparently conducted between August 14 and 17, 2019 and this 

time by a set of groups called “饭圈女孩” (fanquan nühai).48 Literally translated as 

the “girls of the fan circle,” this was a group of young Internet users (most often high 

school girls) deeply involved in the “pursuit of stars” (追星– zhuixing).49 There were in fact 

different groups of fans of pop idols who “joined together” to help and support “阿中” 

(a-zhong) or 阿中哥哥 (a-zhong gege) – or, in other words, China.50 These fans developed a 

whole iconography based on “gifs” or memes (humoristic Internet images – biaoqing bao (表

情包 in Chinese)). And they responded to hashtags on Weibo such as “守护全世界最好的

阿中” (“Let us, in all corners of the world, protect the greatest China!”).51 A search with this 

hashtag on Weibo returned a frenzy of activities over the slightest subject that involved China, 

such as the NBA, Huawei, the military parade of October 1 and, of course, Hong Kong.

Furthermore, the “fan girls” also have a Twitter account, @520CHINA666,52 created 

in June 2019 and suspended in late October. When we created our archive, around October 

25, the account had published nearly 3,700 tweets (we were able to collect around 1,000). 

In October, the fanquan boasted 5,000 subscribers and 55 subscriptions. In comparison to 

Diba’s account, this one was more aggressive insofar as it actually answered (often with 

insults) Internet users who favored democracy.53

3. Coordinated actions

The peak in activity of both Diba and Fanquan groups apparently occurred between August 

14 and 20. Chinese websites spoke of the “814大团结” (“the Grand Unity of August 14”): 

that day, different fan groups came together to lead a highly “disciplined” attack 

against China’s enemies. Diba and Fanquan groups apparently led the charge. This attack 

45. “[逃犯條例] 內地網軍「帝吧」提前「出征” (“[Rules on Fleeing Offenders] The Continental Cyber Army 

‘Diba’ ‘attacks’ in advance”), KHO1.com (22 Jul. 2019), https://archive.vn/Yd3JY.

46. https://urlz.fr/ePsC.

47. “中國網軍揚言到香港FB 踩場 反被起底「所有」個人私隱” (“Chinese Cyber Citizens Threaten to 

Trample Facebook in Hong-Kong but See Their “entire” Private Lives Exposed”), Unwire HK (Jul. 2019).

48. “中國網軍揚言到香港FB 踩場 反被起底「所有」個人私隱” (“Chinese Cyber Citizens Threaten to 

Trample Facebook in Hong-Kong but See Their “Entire” Private Lives Exposed”); “饭圈女孩” (“The Girls of the 

Fan Circle”), https://jikipedia.com/definition/679265533/.

49. In the West, the importance of media consumerism and the fascination generated by pop-stars and other 

idols is seldom understood. This economy is also a very proactive social movement (with extremely organized online 

groups) that does not hesitate to use its striking force to support their artists or, like in this case, conduct campaigns 

against their adversaries.

50. https://jikipedia.com/definition/224758815. The term “a-zhong/a-zhong gene” stems from the fascinations 

for Koreen stars and “o-ba”(欧巴) culture in Korea. O-Ba is a word used by girls to talk about a boy.

51. To this end, see the results for the search on this hashtag on Twitter: https://bit.ly/3oxEpyl.

52. In the coded language of Chinese Internet users, “520” (wuerling) means “I love you” and “666” is a word play 

meaning “cool.” 

53. See our archive: https://archive.md/CNqwGa.

510

was in fact a meme war meant to control the comment section on the adversary’s posts, 

to stop them from disseminating thir version of events and even to block their page. 

On August 15, Guancha (→ p. 491) wrote an article about this symbolic victory.54

Another wave of coordinated attacks reportedly took place on August 17.55 More than an 

“offensive campaign,” this “operation” aimed to stimulate patriotism and was supported by 

the pro-Beijing Hong Kong representative Junius Ho.56 The day before, Diba’s official Weibo 

account issued a mobilization order. This message, “虽千万人吾往矣” (“even in the face of 

ten million, I shall advance”), was a quote from the Confucian theorist Mencius. It accompa-

nied instructions on how to “defend the right of the Hong Kong police to arrest protesters” 

(坚决支持香港警察依法拘捕暴徒). According to Guancha, who used screenshots as evi-

dence, these groups were organized around QQ groups and into “regiments” (团). For 

the occasion “reinforcement” groups from China (阿中后援团) were formed.

In terms of content the groups’ administrators provided the “ammunitions” (阿中

后援): images of violent protesters, phrases and messages previously prepared in Chinese 

and English.

It is worth noting that the members of these groups took up the 

codes of Hong Kong protesters only to turn them against them. 

For instance, echoing the “five demands” of the protesters,57 

they issued “five positive demands” (5大正能量诉求 – see pic-

ture on the left): an end to violence (止暴制乱), the restoration 

of order (恢复秩序), severe punishments for the rioters (严惩

暴徒), attack on lawlessness (打击违法), fair coverage of the 

news (公正报道).

In parallel to this type of targeted content, Diba’s Twitter group 

asked its subscribers to spread messages of support on the Hong Police Facebook and 

Twitter groups.58 

Of course these actions encountered difficulties: Facebook and Twitter are banned in 

China. Diba and Fanquan “soldiers” had to “cross the wall” (翻墙 – a word used to 

mean “go around the great Chinese firewall”). Diba’s Facebook page seemed to give 

instructions and technical advice on how to do it (see below).59 Included among the 

ammunition, were “instruction manuals on how to use foreign social media and meth-

ods to avoid the blocking attempts (spam accounts) of foreign social platforms” (针对各

大海外社交平台制作了扫盲教程、防封号教程).60 On Twitter (see below) one account 

advised “young patriots” (爱国青年) to use a VPN (theoretically banned by the Chinese 

54. “守护全世界最好的阿中” 饭圈女孩出征”开撕” 香港示威者 (18 Aug. 2019), http://www.guancha.cn/

politics/2019_08_15_513689.shtml.

55. http://www.guancha.cn/politics/2019_08_18_514016.shtml. The Diba account message, suspended since, 

was posted at this address: https://twitter.com/D8China/status/1162365049303756801.

56. Ibid.

57. The “five demands” of the Hong Kong protesters were the total withdrawal of the draft bill, the withdrawal 

of the word “rioters” used to describe the protests, the liberation of arrested protesters, the establishment of an 

independent commission to investigate the level of violence inflicted by police during the protest of 12th June, and 

finally Carrie Lam’s resignation and the implementation of universal suffrage for legislative elections and for the 

election of the head of the executive.

58. https://twitter.com/D8China/status/1162705584702885893 (account suspended, last used on 24 Oct. 2019). 

This is the content of the tweet recovered from our archives: “现在转移新战场‼id:香港警察Hong Kong Police‼

香港警察的FB主页,大家进去所有帖子留言支持香港警察‼ 没有fb账号的留战ins‼ 点赞全部友军‼不要理

fq‼ 撑港警别骂人现在转移新战场‼千万别骂人这是我们的人!”

59. 热血!昨夜,帝吧出征 (“Warm blood! Yesterday Evening, Diba Launched a Campaign”) (18 Aug. 2019), 

https://new.qq.com/omn/20190818/20190818A03Q7C00.html.

60. Ibid.

511

authorities) and an “accelerator” (加速器) called “Ant Accelerator” (蚂蚁加速器) to cross 

the wall and thus contribute to China’s defense. On Weibo, another account explained that 

the government “tacitly blessed” these illegal practices (see below).

The scale of the “attacks” on August 14-18 was such that the Weibo account of 

the official TV network CCTC took up the information. Many articles, idols and popular 

Chinese social media accounts endorsed the initiative, calling on their members to spread 

images of support.61 This wave of patriotism also included Chinese students abroad.62 The 

organizers and articles dealing with this campaign asserted, while backing their claims with 

screenshots, that they were able “to take control” of the comment sections of several 

Facebook and Instagram pages belonging to Hong Kong media outlets or protest-

ers.63

The Chinese also deployed their narratives through pornographic accounts on Twitter, 

Facebook and YouTube. The porn audiences of these accounts were no doubt easier targets 

for Beijing’s pre-fabricated narratives, but also to skirt around the growing vigilance of 

traditional platforms in regard to Beijing’s activities.64 Rejected on certain platforms, 

Chinese intermediaries disseminating the Chinese narrative decided to use PornHub. This 

platform is not allowed in China, so Chinese agents acting from the mainland also had to 

use VPNs to “cross the wall.” One such account took the name “CCYL_central,”65 which 

seemed to be a reference to the Communist Youth League (→ p. 72), even if there was 

probably no link between the operators and the CYL. As on the traditional platforms, pro-

testers were compared to hooligans, or cockroaches, and the idea of democracy itself was 

discredited with references to its alleged deficiencies and malfunctions.

E. Conclusion

Analyzing China’s actions on its traditional media outlets and the content disseminated 

on different social networks, mainly Twitter, Facebook and TikTok, between July and 

October 2019, allowed us to identify several characteristics:

61. Ibid. – 《新闻联播》播发央视快评: 乱港暴力已入穷途末路 (“Xinwen Lianbo (CCTV) Broadcasts 

a Commentary: The Violence in Hong Kong ‘Has Come to an End’”) (18 Aug. 2019), https://news.sina.com.en/

c/2019-08_18/docihytcern1749313.shtml excerpt from CCTV.

62. “留学生合唱团、帝吧网友、饭圈女孩……有的出手,有的出征” (“An Overseas Student Choir, Diba 

Users, Girls from the Fan Circle… Some Have Come Out, Some Have Gone on The Offensive!”), Xinhuanet (20 

Aug. 2019), http//:www.xinhuanet.com/gangao/2019-08/20/c_1124895556.htm. See also http://www.guancha.en/

politics/2019_08_18_514016.shtml, which contains numerous photos of operations on Facebook or Instagram.

63. See their campaigns on Twitter with the hashtag “14亿人撑香港” (“1.4 Billion People Support Hong Kong”), 

https//bit.ly/36rBL6U.

64. Jane Li, “China’s Messaging Against the Hong Kong Protests Has Found a New Outlet: Pornhub,” Quartz (13 

Nov. 2019).

65. Ibid.

512

• The accounts were differentiated according to the effect sought: spam, dormant or 

relay accounts with a complementary roles in disseminating anti-protester narratives.

• The approach focused on compiling very basic content but emphasizing their volume 

to saturate the spaces of the target communities and play with their emotions.

• The modus operandi was relatively artisanal because they did not have the time to 

mount a targeted operation and because events in Hong Kong accelerated, but this was 

largely compensated by a multi-channel and pragmatic approach that used Twitter 

and Facebook just as much as WeChat or TikTok. 

• They showed a real ability to adapt themselves to Twitter’ repeated decisions to 

delete waves of accounts, by adopting other approaches and other relays, notably via 

communities that seemed apolitical at first sight, like the fans of celebrities. The cam-

paign led by Diba was the most sophisticated example of this in terms of its degree of 

organization, its length, the aggressiveness of its members and its viral character.

• The Twittersphere and the “institutional relays” of official Chinese TV channels con-

verged, and even aligned themselves semantically. This is another indicator of a willing-

ness to coordinate informational operations.

513

Chapter 3

SINGAPORE

Singapore has an ambivalent relationship with China, which mixes proximity and dis-

trust, and several characteristics of the country make it both vulnerable and uniquely resil-

ient to Chinese influence.

I. Vulnerabilities

First, there are structural weaknesses such as its size. Singapore is a city-state that can 

be toured in one day with a bicycle and this affects everything: “here everything is strategic: 

there is no distinction between the tactical and the strategic.”66 This concentration, combined 

with the country’s hyper-connectivity, means that online fake news can reach the entire 

population within minutes. Besides, the widespread use of both English and Chinese 

makes the Singaporean society easy to penetrate for foreign actors. Its dependence on imports 

for all essential goods and its tense relationship with Malaysia (which is itself vulnerable 

to radical Islam and more or less aligned with Beijing) are other exploitable weaknesses. In 

fact, Beijing can use intermediaries based in Malaysia, for instance, to conduct disin-

formation operations against Singapore that would seem all the more credible as Singapore 

and Malaysia have a tense relationship and because a number of informational operations 

have already originated from Malaysia. Furthermore, there are precedents of known Chinese 

groups paid to produce content in Malaysia, to target Taiwan especially (→ p. 367).

Yet, the main vulnerability lies in the very nature of Singapore’s multiethnic, cross-com-

munity society. These attributes are both a source of great richness and a lever easily acces-

sible to an ill-intentioned third-party actor. For now, cross-community tensions have been 

avoided, but this harmony is never guaranteed and it requires proactive policies (such as the 

constitutional revision that has allowed a Malay candidate to run for the presidency).67 A 

terrorist attack could easily trigger such tensions. Indeed, among the improbable but high-im-

pact scenarios that must not be overlooked is the possibility of a terrorist attack targeting the 

Chinese, which could subsequently serve as a pretext for Beijing to intervene.

Second, there are particular vulnerabilities in regard to China, primarily the pro-

portion of the population that is of Chinese descent: according to official statistics, 3.01 of 

the 4.04 million inhabitants (74.5%) were Chinese in June 2020, 550,000 were Malays 

66. From an interview with one of the authors, in Singapore (Nov. 2019). 

67. The constitutional amendment allows a presidential election to be reserved for candidates from a particular 

ethnic group if that group has not been represented in the presidency in the last five terms. This applies to all ethnic 

groups: if there were a series of five non-”Chinese” presidents, the next election would be reserved for “Chinese” 

candidates. See in particular Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong’s speech, “Race, multiracialism and Singapore’s place in 

the world” (23 Sept. 2017).

514

 (13.6%), 360,000, Indian (8.9%) and 130,000 classified as “others” (3.2%).68 This is why 

Beijing’s main narrative describes Singapore as a “Chinese country” part of the 

“Greater China” that owes its loyalty to China. For this precise reason, and to avoid being 

assimilated into China’s orbit, Singapore has always been wary in its dealings with China. 

For example, out of the five earliest ASEAN members, Singapore was the last to establish 

diplomatic relations with China. However, the former prime minister Lee Kuan Yew (1959-

1990) contributed to the rapprochement by going to China frequently and by promoting, as 

early as 1979, the use of simplified characters in Singapore to align it with mainland China.

The Chinese community is very organized, in clan associations for instance, a system 

dating back to the early 19th century. More than 300 associations are officially registered in 

Singapore. These serve as key institutions for “preserving a sense of Chinese identity and 

kinship.”69 They organize cultural events, trips to China, etc. Older generations, who generally 

have a stronger affinity with China, are more likely to be members of these associations.

Immigration from China keeps the proportion of the Chinese population in Singapore 

at around 75%: their exact number is classified but there are an estimated 20,000 Chinese nat-

uralized in Singapore every year, and even more permanent residents. This flow contributes 

to maintaining a Chinese majority because the community has the lowest birth rate there 

(7.6 per 1000 in 2019, compared to 8.7 for Indians and 14 for Malaysians70). Chinese new-

comers, who retain their networks in mainland China, are an additional vector of influence.

For younger Singaporeans, who are less interested in clan associations, Chinese influence 

is channeled mostly through its economic attractiveness. The youngest, born after the 

Tian’anmen generation, have a tendency to see China solely as an opportunity and not as a 

threat. The two economies are highly integrated: in the last two decades, Singapore has 

increased its exports to China while reducing the ones to the United States, Europe and Japan. 

Hence, the most powerful vector of Chinese influence is neither clan-based nor cultural, 

but economic, with professional organizations, notably the Chinese Singapore Chamber of 

Commerce and the Singapore Business Federation. “The PRC exerts leverage over Singapore 

businessmen by making it harder for them to get contracts, licenses, permits, loans, etc – espe-

cially in the real estate sector, where Singaporeans hold significant investments in China.”71 Those 

doing business in China are in fact questioned by Chinese intelligence services, which extract 

negative information that could damage the Singaporean government. They also give business-

men key elements of speech that are printed on little cards and need to be disseminated by 

them.72 The Chamber of Commerce and the Business Federation have also created the Chinese 

Development Assistance Council, which offers scholarships to study in China, among other 

actions. The Confucius Institute of the Nanyang Technological University (NTU), inaugu-

rated in 2005 – one of the first in the world (→ p. 300) – had only 200 students in 2006, but 

7,000 in 2020.

Beijing can also count on media and individual relays. On the one hand, Xinhua has 

a local office, China Daily has a supplement in the weekend edition of The Straits Times and 

there are local Chinese-speaking media, such as Lianbe Zaobao, a daily newspaper created 

in 1983 that has become the largest Chinese-speaking media in the city-state. On the other 

hand, certain influential and notoriously pro-Chinese voices regularly intervene in the pub-

68. “Resident Population by Ethnic Group, Age Group and Sex Dashboard,” Department of Statistics, Singapore, 

https://bit.ly/39G0CpP.

69. Russell Hsiao, “A Preliminary Survey of CCP Influence Operations in Singapore,” China Brief, 19:13 (16 Jul. 2019).

70. “Number of Babies Born in Singapore Rises Slightly After 8-year Low,” Channel News Asia (28 Jul. 2020).

71. Hsiao, “A Preliminary Survey.”

72. Description given by one of our contacts in Singapore who had seen these cards.

515

lic debate, including Kishore Mahbubani. In July 2017, as dean of the Lee Kuan Yew 

School of Public Policy of the National University of Singapore, he published an op-ed in 

The Straits Times calling for Singapore, “a small State” which he compares to Qatar, to be 

more cautious in its relations with Beijing.73

Another, often under-estimated, vulnerability of Singapore is its approach to human 

rights, since Beijing can prove a natural ally in the face of the hegemony of Western values 

that are presented as universal (i.e. the debate on Asian Values).

In this context, Beijing’s objective “is to impose a Chinese identity on Singapore 

so that it will align more closely with the PRC’s expanding interests.”74 In concrete terms 

Beijing wants Singapore to stop training its armed forces in Taiwan (see the Terrex 

Affair below), to stop speaking of the freedom of navigation, and to further develop 

its trade with China. For example, Beijing wants a Chinese company to build the high-

speed Singapore-Kuala Lumpur railway. Singapore refused, asking the Chinese to respond 

to the call for tenders like everyone else. Beijing responded by canceling a ministerial visit.

Consequently, the main narratives conveyed in Chinese operations targeting 

Singapore are the following: “Singapore is a country of Chinese culture if not altogether a 

Chinese country”; “it is a small country that can’t afford to be arrogant or make an enemy out 

of the Chinese juggernaut”; “It is a country that has not had a strong leadership since Lee 

Kuan Yew (unlike his father, Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong underestimates the importance 

of the relationship with Beijing)”; “the country is too close to a declining United States, while 

China represents the future (it would be in Singapore’s interest to align itself with Beijing)”; 

and “Singapore shouldn’t meddle in the debate on the South China Sea.”

II. The Terrex Affair: taking pledges

Since 1975, and for lack of space at home, Singapore has trained its land army 

in southern Taiwan. Since the establishment of diplomatic relations with China in 1990, 

Singapore has had a tacit agreement with Beijing which, while asking Singapore to use 

Hainan instead of Taiwan, never turned the issue into a problem because Singapore kept 

a low profile (notably by making their military wear Taiwanese uniforms when they are 

there75) and respected the One-China policy.76 However, on November 23, 2016, Hong 

Kong customs seized nine military Terrex armored vehicles belonging to Singapore 

that were transiting in a commercial carrier to Singapore from Taiwan, where they had 

taken part in military exercises. The transit was routine: Singapore has been transiting its 

military vehicles, on the way back from exercises in Taiwan, through Hong Kong since the 

1990s and it had never been a problem. Furthermore, this military equipment benefits from 

an immunity and cannot legally be confiscated or withheld by the authorities of another 

state.77 This did not prevent Beijing, via Hong Kong, from doing so.

The spokesperson for the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs reminded Singapore that 

states which have diplomatic relations with China must abstain from “[having] any form of 

73. Kishore Mahbubani, “Qatar: Big Lessons from a Small Country,” The Straits Times (1 Jul. 2017). 

74. Hsiao, “A Preliminary Survey.”

75. Eric Frécon, L’Influence sécuritaire chinoise à Singapour (The Chinese Security Influence in Singapore), IRSEM 

Report #85, August 2021, p. 48, n. 12.

76. Angela Poh and Chang Jun Yan, “The Terrex Fallacies,” The Straits Times (6 Dec. 2016). 

77. Sébastien Roblin, “Singapore’s YouTubers Took on China Over Seized Armored Vehicles,” medium.com (26 Jan. 2017).

516

official exchanges with Taiwan, including military exchanges and cooperation.”78 Chinese 

media, particularly the Global Times, took over after the ministry. They exhorted Singapore 

to abandon its military training in Taiwan – unless it wanted to see its relationship with 

China deteriorate. The affair generated tensions between China and Singapore until the 

eventual restitution of the vehicles on January 30, 2017. In this interval, a disinformation 

campaign hit Singapore using dormant accounts (inactive for a long time before they 

were suddenly awakened), according to a Singaporean social media analyst.79

Truly, this was not an isolated case or a random occurrence: Hong Kong customs 

officers seized the containers carrying the Terrex vehicles at a moment when Beijing was 

ostensibly looking for a way to heighten the pressure on Singapore. The relationship 

had been deteriorating for almost a year.80 In December 2015, a strengthened cooperation 

defense agreement between the U.S. and Singapore, which notably involved the deploy-

ment of US Navy P-8A Poseidon military airplanes in Singapore, was not well-received by 

Beijing. In June 2016, the absence of the Singaporean Minister of Foreign Affairs Vivian 

Balakrishnan at a joint ASEAN-China press conference in Kunming was also noted. In 

September, the Global Times accused Singapore of having tried to raise the issue of freedom 

of navigation in the South China Sea and The Hague’s verdict on the matter at a summit of 

the Non-Aligned Movement in Venezuela. The attempt, according to the Party’s newspa-

per, was immediately blocked by many countries.81 The Singaporean ambassador to China, 

Stanley Loh, protested against this “fabricated” information. Responding to the ambassa-

dor, Hu Xijin, the editor-in-chief of the Global Times, attacked Singapore for siding with 

the Philippines and Vietnam on the conflictyal South China Sea, and accused the country 

of hosting U.S. warplanes “aimed at China.”82 On October 1, General Jin Yinan (金一南) 

of the PLA National Defense University went further, declaring on Chinese national radio 

(CNR) that Singapore had been meddling for years in affairs which are none of its concerns 

(the South China Sea) and advising Washington on the subject. He believed that “[it was] 

inevitable for China to strike back at Singapore, and not just on the public opinion 

front… Since Singapore has gone thus far, we have got to do something, be it retaliation 

or sanction.”83

The Terrex affair thus crowned a series of incidents in a tense bilateral relation. 

This sequence itself was not coincidental: its climax, the Terrex affair, came exactly one 

year before Singapore’s chairmanship of the ASEAN (November 2017), and coincided 

with Singapore’s coordination of the ASEAN-China Dialogue (2015-2018). From 

Beijing’s point of view it was necessary to remind the city-state about “who was in charge,” 

particularly on the topic of freedom of navigation, and especially after Singapore had called 

for the implementation of The Hague’s decision rendered in July 2016. During this period 

Singaporeans were bombarded with YouTube videos in Mandarin and clan associ-

ations subjected to particularly intense pressure, always with the same narrative: 

Singapore “must stay in its place” as a “Chinese country” which must not rely on 

the United States; besides, the ASEAN was presented as worthless without China.84

78. Han Fook Kwang, “What’s Behind Singapore’s Latest Run-Ins with Beijing,” The Straits Times (14 Dec. 2016).

79. From an interview conducted by one of the authors in Singapore (Aug. 2019).

80. William Choong, “Shining the Spotlight on Starlight,” The Straits Times (30 Nov. 2016). 

81. Leng Shumei, “FM Calls on Singapore to Respect China’s Sea Stance,” Global Times (28 Sept. 2016).

82. “Singapore Accuses Chinese Paper of Fabricating South China Sea Story,” Reuters (27 Sept. 2016).

83. Minnie Chan, “Chinese Defense Adviser Turns Up Heat on Singapore Over South China Sea Row,” South China 

Morning Post (1 Oct. 2016). This article has been archived and is behind a pay-wall.

84. From an interview conducted in Singapore by one of the authors (Aug. 2019). The same information had 

evidently been conveyed to RAND researchers in an on-site interview a few months earlier: Scott W. Harold, Nathan 

517

Singapore has since scaled down its Taiwanese training exercises from 15,000 to 6,000 

men (which is also explained by a downsized military service) and is planning to move them 

to Australia, where training facilities should be available in 2022. The episode contributed 

to the authorities’ and the public’s growing awareness of the city-state’s vulnera-

bility to Chinese influence, or even interference. Since then, this question has been 

discussed with growing frequency in public.

The nine Terrex vehicles seized in Hong Kong.85

III. The cases of Huang Jing and Jun Wei “Dickson” Yeo

In the past few years, two cases of Chinese espionage in Singaporean academic circles 

have received media attention. The first concerns Huang Jing (黄靖). Born in China in 1956, 

educated in both China (masters at Fudan University) and the United States (PhD at Harvard), 

he is an American citizen who lived and worked for twenty years in the United States, occupying 

different positions in universities and research centers, including Stanford and the Brookings 

Institution, before joining the prestigious Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy at the National 

University of Singapore, serving as director for the Center on Asia and Globalization as well as 

the Lee Foundation Professor on US-China Relations. In parallel, Huang was an analyst for the 

Chinese press agency Xinhua. In August 2017, he was accused by the Singaporean Ministry of 

the Interior of being “an agent of influence for a foreign state” that was not identified; he and 

his wife were expelled from the country (with their residency permits revoked). They went to 

China where, since 2019, Huang Jing has been the dean of the Institute for International and 

Regional Studies at the Beijing Language and Culture University.

The second case is less ambiguous: it was tried in U.S. courts.86 It involved Jun Wei 

“Dickson” Yeo (杨俊伟), born in Singapore in 1981. He may also have been linked to the 

previous case as he was one of Huang’s PhD students at the Lee Kuan Yew School of Public 

Policy. This link led Bilahari Kausikan, an ex-diplomat and a major figure in the Singaporean 

foreign policy debate, to declare that it was Huang Jing who had Yeo recruited by Chinese 

intelligence services, something Huang denied.87 Yeo was recruited by Chinese intelli-

Beauchamp-Mustafaga, Jeffrey W. Hornung, Chinese Disinformation Efforts on Social Media, RAND Corporation, 2021, p. 

82. For the authors, the fact that these videos were published exclusively in Chinese (simplified and traditional) suggests 

that they were specifically targeted at Singaporean clan associations. 

85. https://www/straitstimes.com/sites/default/articles/2016/11/29/40657903_-_24_11_2016_-_jcarmoured25.jpg.

86. United States of America vs June Wei Yeo, also known as Dickson Yeo, defendant. Us District Court for the 

District of Columbia (https://www.justice.gov/usao-dc/press-release/file/1297451/download).

87. Rei Kurochi, “Ex-diplomat Bilahari Kausikan Rebuts Huang Jing’s Denial that he Recruited Singaporean 

Dickson Yeo as Spy,” The Straits Times (29 Jul. 2020).

518

gence in 2015 through Chinese think tanks which invited and paid Yeo to write reports. 

He quickly came to understand that these “scholars” were in fact intelligence officers. He 

was debriefed during frequent trips to China and online via WeChat. Initially used to transmit 

information about South-East Asia, he was reoriented toward the United States, where he had 

previously studied, he subsequently lived in DC for several months in 2019. His mission was 

to collect information and to recruit U.S. sources, which he did through LinkedIn and by 

creating a fake consultancy agency that put out job offers in order to collect CVs.

In this way he came into contact with U.S. military member and officials with access to 

confidential information. He would ask them to write reports in exchange for money.88 A 

U.S. Army officer working at the Pentagon was hence hired to write a report, allegedly for 

private Asian clients, on the U.S. withdrawal from Afghanistan and its consequences for 

China. This work was paid $2,000, which was wired to the officer’s wife’s account to avoid 

raising suspicion. An agent from the State Department also became entrapped by writing a 

report about a member of the U.S. Cabinet. Yeo’s Chinese handlers asked him to go further 

by trying to recruit the U.S. officer so that he could transmit different, more confidential, 

information this time. But Yeo was arrested when he landed in the U.S. in November 2019, 

precisely to do that. He pleaded guilty of espionage during his trial and was sentenced to 14 

months in jail. After serving his sentence, he went back to Singapore, where he was arrested 

by the Internal Security Department on the day of his arrival (December 30, 2020).89

IV. Resilience

Chinese influence is not a new problem for Singapore, which had defended itself from 

it during the 1950s and 1960s “when People’s Republic of China (PRC) leaders sought to 

export communist revolution to Southeast Asia.”90 Singapore has always been able to offer a 

nimble resistance. Its defense rests on the development of a counter-narrative where a 

unique national identity, one that is multicultural and multi-racial, “is closely managed 

as an existential issue by Singapore’s ruling elites.”91 It defends the singular identity of Chinese 

Singaporeans compared to other Chinese identities in the world and, of course, to the way 

Beijing views this identity. For instance, to counter – or at least to compensate for – the cre-

ation in 2012 of the Chinese Cultural Center, the Singaporean government created its own 

“Singapore” Chinese cultural center in 2017. It promotes the idea of “a vibrant Singapore 

Chinese culture, rooted in a cohesive, multi-racial society,” and during his speech at the cen-

ter’s inauguration Prime Minister Lee Hsien Long emphasized that “Chinese in Singapore are 

very different from the Chinese in China, in terms of both history and identity.”92

If three quarters of the population are theoretically “Chinese,” the vast majority 

of them feel Singaporean, speak English (many only speak very imperfect Mandarin), 

have a largely Western, Asian and non-Chinese culture (Taiwanese and Korean singers are 

far more popular in Singapore than Chinese singers). In spite of Beijing’s efforts there 

is very little cultural penetration. Chinese influence on Chinese-speaking media is rela-

88. Michael Yong, “How a Singaporean Man Went from NUS PhD Student to Working for Chinese Intelligence in 

the US,” Channel News Asia (25 Jul. 2020).

89. Cara Wong, “Singaporean Dickson Yeo, Who Spied for China in the US, Arrested by ISD Upon His Return,” 

The Straits Time (31 Dec. 2020). 

90. Hsiao, “A Preliminary Survey.”

91. Ibid. 

92. Ibid.

519

tively limited because of the already tight control Singapore exerts on all outlets. Ultimately 

money and business ties remain the main vulnerabilities.

Moreover, in recent years, people have grown cognizant to the risks posed by 

Chinese influence in Singapore, in the course of several episodes: the Terrex Affair in 

2016, the Huang Jing Affair in 2017, the departure the same year of Mahbubani, whose 

op-ed on the “small state” generated controversy, and also the hack on the Ministry of 

Health (between June 27 and July 4, 2018). 1.5 million patients’ medical files were stolen, 

among which were that of Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong who was “specifically and 

repeatedly targeted.”93 The attack was never attributed but, according to some sources, the 

incident may have been a response to the Huang espionage affair to find compromising 

information on the Prime Minister and blackmail him, or simply to undermine him. The 

attackers found nothing however.

Meanwhile, Bilahari Kausikan, a former ambassador and permanent secretary of the 

Ministry of Foreign Affairs, published several articles in The Straits Times in June and July 

2018. In these, he called on Singaporeans to “be aware” when Beijing is trying to manipulate 

them and not to “trust oversimplified narratives.”94 He wrote that “China uses a range 

of tactics – from legitimate diplomacy to more covert and often illegal deployment 

of agents of influence and operations – to sway decision makers or public opinion 

leaders.”95 He believes that these operations against Singapore were intended “not 

just to direct behavior, but to condition behavior. China does not just want you to 

comply with its wishes, it wants you to… do what it wants without being told.”96 

He also noted that “[o]ur identity, based in the idea of multiculturalism and meritocracy, 

is under pressure. There are centrifugal forces trying to pull us apart”, and went on to cite 

China’s attempts to “assert the Chinese identity on multiracial Singapore.”97 These interven-

tions inspired others afterward.98

A year later Russell Hsiao published an often-mentioned report on Chinese influ-

ence operations in Singapore.99 China reacted through its embassy, dismissing the claims 

as “absurd.” But the report was benefitial as it liberated the discussion on the subject in 

Singapore: the topic remains touchy but it is well-documented and, with the accumulation 

of scandals since 2016, which are frequently analyzed in more and more details, the subject 

has become unavoidable and easier to talk about.

Finally, the Singaporean government is acutely aware of its vulnerabilities, partic-

ularly in regard to national unity, and regularly takes measures against what a 2013 report 

called “corrosive speech.”100 Unlike hate speech, it targets certain communities, and can 

easily be instrumentalized, possibly by a third state, to create inter-community tensions. 

For example, the Internet website TheRealSingapore.com was shut down in May 2015 by 

the Media Regulation Authority (MDA) because some articles threatened public order and 

93. Kevin Kwang, “Singapore Health System Hit by Most ‘Serious Breach of Personal Data’ in Cyberattack; PM 

Lee’s Data Targeted,” Channel News Asia (20 Jul. 2018).

94. Charissa Yong, “S’poreans Should be Aware of China’s Influence Ops: Bilahari,” The Straits Times (28 Jun. 2018). 

95. Ibid.

96. Ibid.

97. Yasmine Yahya, “Staying Aware of Foreign Influence Best Form of Defense for Singapore: Bilahari,” The Straits 

Times (20 Jul. 2018). 

98. Including Simon Tay, “Inoculating Singapore Against Foreign Influences,” The Straits Times (26 Jul. 2018).

99. Hsiao, “A Preliminary Survey.” 

100. Carol Soon at Tan Tarn How, Corrosive Speech: What Can Be Done, a Report from the Institute of Policy Studies, 

Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy, National University of Singapore (2013).

520

national harmony. The MDA accused the website of “inciting hostile sentiment toward 

foreigners in Singapore.”

In combating information manipulation, Singapore is one of the most advanced 

and well-informed states in the world. Its officials travel a lot, and are willing to learn 

from the experience of their foreign counterparts, in Europe, North America and Australia 

in particular. The Center of Excellence for National Security (CENS) of the RSIS also 

organizes an annual international symposium on these questions which has become one 

of the largest meeting of that kind globally, particularly because it brings together experts 

from different geographical areas (Euro-Atlantic and Asian regions). For all these reasons, 

Singapore, along with Sweden, can be considered among the best prepared states 

in the fight against information manipulation, and even against hybrid threats in general.

521

Chapter 4

SWEDEN

Why is China interested in Sweden? Generally, China takes an interest in all Nordic 

countries, that is to say Denmark (with the Faeroe Islands and Greenland), Finland, 

Norway, Iceland and Sweden, to which China has been proposing for several years, in 

vain for now, to meet in a “5+1” format modeled on the “17+1” group with states from 

Central and Eastern Europe (→ p. 310). China considers these countries to be a double 

entryway, toward the Arctic first (Sweden has hosted a Chinese satellite station in its far 

northern reaches since 2006 – this is China’s first fully-owned station1), and then toward 

the EU, because it has a longstanding relationship with these countries (Sweden, Denmark 

and Finland, in that order, were among the first Western countries to establish diplomatic 

relations with the PRC in 1950) and because they “are politically stable, pro-free trade and, 

importantly, described as less suspicious toward China than many other ‘Western’ coun-

tries.’”2 

Inauguration of the Chinese satellite station in Kiruna on December 15, 2016.3

They have the advantage of offering both a regulatory environment that is not 

very restrictive, even permissive, for foreign investment, and leading technology 

sectors, with some of the world’s most innovative companies. And this combination is 

valuable. As Heather Conley and James Lewis showed, “China remains dependent on 

the West for advanced technology, and it uses four techniques to acquire it: (1) 

forced technology transfers as a prerequisite to conducting business in China; (2) 

placement of students and workers in universities and companies in the West; (3) 

1. The “China Remote Sensing Satellite North Polar Ground Station” is located in Kiruna. All the other Chinese 

satellite stations in the world, notably in Africa and North America, are joint-ventures: Stephen Chen, “China Launches 

its First Fully Owned Overseas Satellite Ground Station Near North Pole,” South China Morning Post (16 Dec. 2016).

2. Jerker Hallström, China’s Political Priorities in the Nordic Countries: from Technology to Core Interests, Policy brief, 12 

(2016), Norwegian Institute of International Affairs (2016), 2.

3. Keegan Elmer, “Swedish Defense Agency Warns Satellite Station Could be Serving Chinese Military,” South 

China Morning Post (14 Jan. 2019).

522

cyber espionage; and (4) the acquisition of foreign firms.”4 In Nordic countries 

China mostly uses economic espionage, as it does elsewhere – except in local universities 

(China lacks the critical number of Chinese students it has in Australia or Canada for 

example), but also the acquisition of local businesses, as a privileged way of accessing 

technologies.

If “the primary motive for Chinese investment in the Nordics is commercial,” 

strategic interests are never far behind: it can be illustrated by investments in “semi-

conductors and munitions-related technology as well as emerging technology such 

as FinTech, GreenTech, BioTech and MaritimeTech.”5 The acquisitions of Awilco in 

Norway (2008), which produces drilling equipment among other things, of Volvo Cars 

in Sweden (2010) and of Elkem, dealing with the production of silicon, silicone and 

carbon materials, in Norway (2011). They still rank among China’s most important 

purchases in Europe.

In this region, Sweden has generated the greatest Chinese interest because it is par-

ticularly innovative and has a strong start-up culture. “Sweden is China’s Nordic Hub6” 

and it attracted the highest levels of Chinese investment in Europe ($3.6 billion) in 2018, 

far ahead of other countries ($1.6 billion in the United Kingdom, 1.5 in Germany and 1.4 

in France).7 When the Chinese Geely purchased Volvo Cars in 2010 – one of the most 

important Chinese acquisitions in Europe and North America – and invested in Volvo AB 

(which makes trucks and buses) in 2018, it made an impression in Sweden and internation-

ally. A peak in acquisitions was reached in 2017 (with 13 majority acquisitions, out of 

51 in total from 2002 to 2019)8. By 2019, there had been a total of 65 (51 majority and 14 

minority) Chinese acquisitions of Swedish companies. And, in November 2019, more than 

1,000 companies declared that they were, in effect, owned by a Chinese or Hong Kong 

citizen9.

Beijing has taken a notable interest in firms that develop dual-use technologies, 

i.e. for both civilian and military uses. For instance, Chinese companies have purchased 

three Swedish semiconductor businesses, including Silex Microsystems (by a company with 

ties to the Chinese defense sector), and Chematur, a spin-off of the ammunition manu-

facturer Nobel which stands at “the center of Sweden’s defense industrial base”10 (by the 

Wanhua group). The government’s China strategy, presented in September 2019, confirms 

that CCP intelligence activities in Sweden are not only significant but also focused 

on acquiring military technologies, in addition to intelligence on Swedish military capa-

bilities. It also mentioned that the Chinese satellite station in northern Sweden could also 

be used for military intelligence.11

4. Heather A. Conley and James A. Lewis, Chinese Technology Acquisitions in the Nordic Region, Center for Strategic & 

International Studies (CSIS), 20.

5. Ibid., 1.

6. Ibid.

7. Ibid., 3.

8. Oscar Almén, Johan Englund, and Jerker Hellström, Survey of Chinese Corporate Acquisitions in Sweden, Swedish 

Defense Research Agency (FOI), November 2019, (in Swedish: https://www.foi.se/en/foi/reports/reportsummary.

html?reportNO=FOI+Memo+6903).

9. Ibid. A large number of these 1,000 companies were Chinese restaurants owned by Chinese citizens who lives 

in Sweden. Only a small minority of them were actually Chinese companies based in China and Hong Kong acquiring 

Swedish companies.

10. Conley and Lewis, Chinese Technology Acquisitions, 7-8

11. Elmer, “Swedish Defense Agency Warns.”

523

I. A typical case of a “Machiavellian moment” 

For a long time, China invested a good deal in its relationship with Sweden and the 

Swedish public opinion was rather favorable, since China meant new jobs. But then the 

Party entered in a “Machiavellian moment” with the appointment of a new ambas-

sador in August 2017: Gui Congyou (桂从友), apparently tasked with dominating the 

public debate. He quickly showed himself to be aggressive (some observors acknowledged 

a turning point in early 2018), attacking the media, journalists, the government, political 

parties, scholars, and denying visas with the aim of enticing fear and self-censorship.

The ambassador’s profile is revealing: Gui Gonyou admitted that he did not know any-

thing about Sweden when he was appointed, that he had never visited the country, and that 

he had never had a Swedish friend.12 He even declared in February 2020 that “he did not 

know why he had been sent to Sweden.”13 However, he speaks very good Russian and he 

is an expert on Russia: the earlier part of his career alternated between Moscow, where he 

was posted twice and he remained for about 10 years, and Beijing, where he kept a close eye 

on Russian affairs for the ministry, often accompanying Xi Jinping during his diplomatic 

visits to countries in the former USSR. He was one of the main instigators of the Xi-Putin 

summits and he attended at all high-level meetings between Chinese and Russian leaders.

In Stockholm, the ambassador multiplied attacks and threatening statements, 

especially against the media. He even talked of “the tyranny of the media.”14 On tele-

vision he likened Swedish media criticizing China to a “48-kilogram lightweight boxer who 

starts a fight with an 86-kilogram heavyweight boxer, who out of kindness and good-

will urges the (smaller) boxer to take care of himself.” This provoked a reaction from 

the Swedish Minister of Foreign Affairs, who interpreted the ambassador’s words as an 

“unacceptable threat” and an attempt to intimidate, and incidentally to muzzle, the press.15 

The embassy also publishes a lot on its own site: during 2019, it published at least 74 neg-

ative comments on Swedish media, most of them in reaction to publications perceived to 

express criticism of China.16 Gui Congyou maintains constant pressure on the media, 

inviting some journalists to lunch to comment on how they cover China, sending protest 

emails himself when he doesn’t like an article.

These practices were documented and analyzed by journalist Patrik Oksanen, head 

of the Center for Influence and Disinformation Analysis at the think tank Frivärld, in a 

September 2020 study titled China’s attacks to silence critics.17 When conducted a follow-up 

analysis a year later, he found that the embassy’s tactics had changed. In an August 2021 

report entitled The Dragon’s Changing Tactics, he noted that the frequency of public statements 

on the embassy’s website appeared to have decreased, with the emphasis shifting to direct, 

intimidating and even threatening letters to journalists, experts and MPs.18 Already, 

in a survey made public in January 2020, at least four of Sweden’s largest media groups 

(Svenska Dagbladet, Expressen, Sveriges Radio and Sveriges Television) said they had been 

12. “今日头条:桂从友大使接受瑞典三家华文媒体集体采访” (“Today’s Headline: Ambassador Gui 

Congyou Gives a Group Interview to Three Chinese Media Outlets in Sweden”), Chineseonline.se, (12 Oct. 2017).

13. Birgitta Forsberg, “Ambassadören: ‘Sverige inte viktigt nog att hota,’” Svenska Dagbladet (30 Jan. 2020).

14. Statement from the Embassy of China in Sweden (22 Jun. 2018).

15. Jari Tanner, “Sweden Summons Chinese Envoy Over ‘Lightweight Boxer’ Remark,” Associated Press (18 Jan. 

2020).

16. “China’s large-scale media push: Attempts to influence Swedish media,” SVT Nyheter (19 Jan. 2020).

17. Patrik Oksanen, Kinas Attacker För Att Tysta Kritiker, Frivärld (Sept. 2020).

18. Patrik Oksanen and Jesper Lehto, Draken Som Bytte Taktik, Frivärld (Aug. 2021).

524

contacted and criticized repeatedly by the Chinese embassy – some of the language used, 

in letters and emails, was threatening.19 And, in April 2021, Jojje Olsson, a Swedish jour-

nalist based in Taiwan who has long been a target of the Chinese authorities, received yet 

another email from the Chinese embassy, clearly threatening him: “we ask you to stop your 

wrongful actions immediately, otherwise you will end up facing the consequences of your 

actions.”20 In order to denounce and counter this practice, the think tank Frivärld launched 

a campaign on social networks, calling on the recipients of these messages to testify using 

the hashtag #Kinabrev.

This behavior is not exclusive to the embassy: Swedish journalists we met said that 

they were victims of intimidation tactics from Chinese diplomats but also from various 

Chinese associations, including student associations, which demanded that the journalists 

stop writing about specific topics. Some journalists were even followed by car to their 

homes.21

This pressure goes far beyond the media: for instance, the embassy convinced the 

Sheraton Stockholm hotel to cancel the celebration of the Taiwanese national holiday in 

October 2019, even though it had hosted the event for more than a decade. The celebration 

was finally hosted by the Swedish History Museum, which resisted the embassy’s pressure.22

China’s aggressive turn in Sweden has been consequential since 2018: the Sino-

Swedish relationship has considerably deteriorated. The Chinese ambassador has been 

summoned by the Swedish Ministry of Foreign Affairs nearly forty times since he was 

appointed. In late 2019, several MPs demanded his expulsion. Then again in 2021 after 

the journalist Jojje Olsson was threatened by the Chinese embassy: several Swedish pol-

iticians then again called for the expulsion of the ambassador.23 Sweden was also the 

first European country to close all its Confucius Institutes (the last in December 2019 

and the last Classroom in April 2020).24 Sweden eventually rewrote its “China strategy,” 

which was presented to the national parliament in September 2019, and it created a cen-

ter for China Studies (along with another privately-funded institution) to better anticipate 

challenges posed by China’s growing influence. Even the city of Gothenburg, the second 

largest in the country, home to Volvo, and where China is omnipresent (to the extent that 

restaurant and service personnel are trained to speak Chinese), has cancelled its twin 

city program with Shanghai in April 2020 – a 34-year-old partnership. In October 2020, 

the Swedish Post and Telecommunications Authority (PTS) banned equipment from 

Chinese companies (Huawei, ZTE) in its ongoing call for tenders on the 5G infrastruc-

ture (a decision confirmed in January 2021 by the Administrative Court in Stockholm, 

which rejected Huawei’s appeal). The government is increasingly distrustful of China, once 

seen only as an economic boon, but now perceived as a national security threat. China’s 

public approval plummeted with 49% of unfavorable opinion in 2017, 52% in 2018, 70% 

in 2019, 85% in 2020, and 80% in 2021. Nowadays, out of the 34 countries surveyed, only 

the Japanese hold more negative opinions on China than the Swedes (→ p. 191).25 From 

a regional perspective, far from being tempted by the Chinese proposition of a “5+1” for-

19. “China’s large-scale media push.”

20. Journalistförbundet, “Vi fördömer Kina-angrepp mot Jojje Olsso” (13 Apr. 2021).

21. From an interview in Stockholm conducted by one of the authors (Feb. 2020).

22. Birgitta Forsberg, “Kina Pressade Sheraton att nobba Taiwaneser,” Svenska Dagbladet (3 Oct. 2019).

23. Hannah Somerville, “China’s Embassy in Sweden under Fire over ‘Threats’ to Journalists,” Euronews (12 Apr. 2021).

24. Oliver Moody, “Swedes Axe China-backed Confucius School Scheme as Relations Sour,” The Times (21 Apr. 2020).

25. Pew Research Center, Global Indicators Database, Opinion of China (2019). Laura Silver, Kat Devlin, and Christine 

Huang, “Large Majorities Say China Does Not Respect the Personal Freedoms of Its People,” Pew Research Center 

(30 Jun. 2021).

525

mat, the Nordics are considering organizing themselves against Chinese influence in a “5 

against 1” format.

In September 2021, the Chinese embassy in Stockholm finally announced the departure 

of Ambassador Gui Congyou, who was recalled to Beijing. This announcement was wel-

comed in Sweden with a certain relief (expressed on social networks by journalists, research-

ers and political leaders26), but without naivety as to his successor who could follow in his 

footsteps if Beijing wishes. His record is objectively disastrous. Since the end of 2017, he 

has unpicked the relationship his predecessors had built. “By launching a combative campaign 

ill-adapted to local conditions, China appears to have shot itself in the foot.”27 How can it 

be explained? First, as Jerdén and Bohman showed, his priority was not to seduce the 

Swedes but the CCP: “[his] actions may [have been] motivated by a desire to impress supe-

riors in Beijing. By vocally propagating China’s narrative abroad, he [put] his embassy in the 

spotlight and positioned it as a front runner in Xi Jinping’s mission to increase China’s global 

influence over media and ‘tell China’s story well.’”28 This is an overall feature of the phenom-

enon of “wolf warrior” diplomats – which we presented in the third part (→ p. 222). Gui 

Gonyou was one of its precursors. Then, the ambassador’s lack of understanding of lib-

eral democracies – his experience abroad being exclusively Russian – very likely contributed 

to his haphazardeous crisis management and in underestimating the negative consequences 

of an overly aggressive behavior in Sweden for China. The embassy should have foreseen that 

Sweden, being one of the most hostile countries toward the CCP and toward authoritarianism 

in general, was also likely to resist this pressure.

Beyond the personality of the ambassador, Sweden is debating whether the country 

was chosen as a testing ground for a more aggressive strategy that China could ulti-

mately generalize globally. Why Sweden? There are several reasons:

• Sweden is the right size: small enough not to be a threat, with no diaspora-related 

issues (there were only 31,700 people of Chinese origin in Sweden in 2017, 10,000 more 

than in 2009, and 2,671 students),29 but large enough to be significant, in any case for 

Europe.

• Sweden is a world champion of democratic and liberal values, one of the leaders 

in terms of “soft power diplomacy.”30 The country always tops rankings (thus the cul-

tural shock experienced by the Chinese ambassador when he arrived in a country sys-

tematically in the top five of RSF’s Freedom of the Press rankings, whereas China is in 

the bottom five or three out of 180 countries). Sweden is then a symbol, a model to 

be broken (with the idea that if China achieves this, the foundations of all democracies 

can be shaken at their core).

• Linked to this, this is also a state that is among the most vehement critics of human 

rights violations in China. From this point of view, going after Sweden was an opportu-

nity to demonstrate that criticizing China comes at a cost. This is a message for the 

world and especially for Europeans. 

26. Anne-Françoise Hivert, “En Suède, l’ambassadeur chinois s’en va dans un climat de tensions” (“In Sweden, the 

Chinese ambassador leaves in a climate of tension”), Le Monde (27 Sept. 2021), 6.

27. Björn Jerdén and Viking Bohman, China’s Propaganda Campaign in Sweden, 2018-2019, Swedish Institute of 

International Affairs, 4 (2019), 11.

28. Ibid, 8.

29. Interview of one of the authors with the Swedish Civil Contingencies Agency (MSB), in Stockholm (Feb. 2020).

30. Elise Carlson-Rainer, “Sweden is a World Leader in Peace, Security, and Human Rights,” World Affairs, 180:4 

(2017), 79-85.

526

• Sweden is one of China’s main rivals in certain key industrial sectors, including 

5G infrastructures, batteries and trucks.

• There were already several irritating issues in their bilateral relations: the most 

infamous being the Gui Minhai (桂敏海) affair, involving a Swedish citizen detained in 

China since 2015 (see box below). But also Peter Dhalin, a Swedish human rights activ-

ist, who was kidnapped and incarcerated for 23 days in China in 2016, and was forced 

to confess on television.31 The “hostage diplomacy” practiced by China has left traces 

in Sweden. There was also the Qiao Jianjun (乔建军) affair, which involved a former 

civil servant who became one of China’s most wanted fugitives, allegedly for corruption 

(he was accused of misappropriating millions of dollars). He was arrested in Sweden at 

Beijing’s request in August 2018, but Stockholm refused to extradite him (the Swedish 

Supreme Court held that this would be a violation of the European Convention on 

Human Rights, since he would risk death, torture and/or other inhuman or degrading 

treatment). He was freed in June 2019 and re-arrested five days later at the request of the 

United States, which was also looking for Qiao. He was extradited to the United States 

in late May 2020. 

• Finally, Sweden – which hosted the Dalai Lama in September 2018 – has granted asy-

lum to Uyghur, Tibetan and Falun Gong refugees, i.e. Beijing’s main targets. This 

was confirmed by a series of spying cases in these communities: in 2010, a Uyghur 

refugee was condemned to 16 months in prison on charges of spying for China (he had 

infiltrated the Uyghur World Congress and provided information to a Chinese intelli-

gence officer posing as a diplomat)32; in 2018 a Tibetan refugee was also condemned to 

22 months in jail on charges of espionage in the service of China (he had infiltrated the 

Swedish Tibetan community and was transmitting information to a Chinese intelligence 

officer in Poland).33

For Beijing the objective is to make Sweden submit by limiting its freedom of expres-

sion, notably on the “five poisons” while sending a warning shot at other countries, 

especially in Europe. But this has completely failed: instead of giving in, Sweden has 

resisted and the consequence has simply been the deterioration of bilateral relations and of 

China’s image in Sweden.

In any case, the Swedish case is both an opportunistic test and a symptom of a 

worldwide evolution in the behavior of China: the same happened in Canada (→ p. 537), 

Australia, the United Kingdom and elsewhere. Among them, there are differences of inten-

sity but not of nature. The Swedish case is particularly spectacular because of preexisting 

tensions in the bilateral relations, but this announces a larger turning point and was inter-

preted as such, even in 2018.34 We call this turning point the Chinese “Machiavellian 

moment” (→ p. 619).

31. Tom Phillips, “A Human Rights Activist, a Secret Prison and a Tale from Xi Jinping’s New China,” The Guardian 

(3 Jan. 2017).

32. “‘Uyghur Spy’ for China Jailed in Sweden,” BBC (8 Mar. 2010). 

33. “Swedish Court Convicts Man of Spying on Tibetans for China,” Reuters (15 Jun. 2018).

34. Jojje Olsson, “Chinese Embassies are Becoming Increasingly Assertive: The Case of Sweden,” Taiwan Sentinel 

(7 Sept. 2018).

527

The Gui Minhai Affair

Gui Minhai is a writer, editor and librarian who, born in China, arrived in Sweden in 1988 to 

begin a Ph.D and who stayed there, acquiring the Swedish citizenship while renouncing his 

Chinese citizenship. He then settled in Hong Kong, creating several publishing houses from 

2006 on. Under a pseudonym (Ah Hai), he published a number of works on China’s political 

life that were banned in mainland China. Knowing himself to be watched and under threat, he 

avoided going back to China, missing his father’s last days of life and funeral as a result.

In October 2015, he was abducted by Chinese intelligence officers during his hol-

iday in Thailand and disappeared. Four of his colleagues also subsequently disappeared. 

Confirmation of his incarceration came in January 2016 in a quintessential Soviet-style 

televised confession – a practice that has made a comeback in China in recent years35 

(in July 2020, Britain’s Ofcom estimated that CGTN had violated the broadcasting rules of the 

United Kingdom by showing the forced confession of a British citizen).36 In a CCTV broad-

cast, Gui, in tears, “confessed” to having killed a young woman in a car accident in 2003 and 

explained that, full of remorse, he had surrendered to the Chinese authorities. He added: “I do 

not want any individual or organization, including Sweden, to involve themselves in, or inter-

fere with, my return to China. Although I have Swedish citizenship, I truly feel that I am still 

Chinese – my roots are in China. So I hope Sweden can respect my personal choice, respect 

my rights and the privacy of my personal choice.”37

In October 2017, Chinese authorities informed Sweden of Gui Minhai’s release. He, however, 

had not provided any news, which left the exact situation unclear. What we do know is that 

in January 2018, while in the company of two Swedish diplomats on a train headed for 

Beijing for medical examinations, Gui was once again abducted by ten men dressed as 

civilians. He reappeared in another televised confession, in which he admitted to having been 

pressured by the Swedish authorities into trying to leave China, using a medical appointment 

at the Swedish embassy as a pretext.

In November 2019, he received the Tucholsky Prize for Freedom of Expression from the 

Swedish section of PEN, which angered the Chinese embassy. In February 2020 he was finally 

sentenced to ten years in prison on charges of espionage – a new accusation that came 

as a surprise as it had never been raised before. On this occasion, it was revealed that in 2018 

Gui Minhai had “demanded” to recover his Chinese citizenship (which was largely seen as a 

maneuver to deprive him of his consular visitation rights). However, Sweden still considers 

Gui as one of its citizens since, as far as Sweden is concerned, there has been no proper and 

formal renunciation of Swedish citizenship. 

Gui Minhai’s televised confession on CCTC in January 2016.

35. Tania Branigan, “Televised Confessions on State-Run TV Consolidate China’s Social Control,” The Guardian 

(11 August 2014); Magnus Fiskesjö, “The Return of the Show Trial: China’s Televised ‘Confessions,’” The Asia-Pacific 

Journal, 15:13:1 (1 Jul. 2017).

36. “Chinese TV Channel Breached Rules With ‘Forced Confession,’” BBC News (6 Jul. 2020). 

37. Michael Forsythe, “Missing Man Back in China, Confessing to Fatal Crime,” The New York Times (17 Jan. 2016).

528


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