This piece captures a moment at the 2025 Oslo Freedom Forum (May 26–28), where Hong Kong’s diaspora and exiled activists worked to keep the city’s struggle for freedom on the global agenda. Through testimony, art, and quiet defiance, they carried forward a resistance that refuses to be extinguished.
At this year’s Oslo Freedom Forum, Hong Kong was not forgotten.
In a quiet gallery tucked away from the main stage, and in a packed panel room charged with urgency, exiled artists, activists, and advocates came not only to speak, but to carry a message too dangerous to deliver in their own city. Through sculpture, video, sketches, and testimony, they raised awareness of the freedoms dismantled in Hong Kong and the resistance that endures beyond its borders. For those of us listening, the act was one of bearing witness.
I was born in England to Hong Kong immigrant parents. I spent infrequent summers in the city, never quite local enough to belong, but always tethered by blood, language, and longing. It is a place I love and feel deeply connected to, even as I sometimes feel estranged from it—called a “banana” or gwei mui (white girl) for being too Western. And yet, it’s where my heart breaks when I see what it has become.
As a journalist, I’ve covered the Hong Kong democracy movement before. But over time, I stepped back. Other stories demanded attention, and my father’s quiet worry began to weigh on me. His concern wasn’t abstract. It mirrored the fear many in exile still carry—the knowledge that speaking out comes at a cost.
Now, I see Hong Kong as a city carrying the weight of a colonial past, wrestling with its identity, and pulled toward a future that teeters between control and the enduring hope for freedom.
Walking through The Guilty Will Kneel, an art exhibition curated by Clara Cheung, and listening to exiled Hongkongers dissect their city’s political unraveling in the panel From Hub to Crisis: Hong Kong’s Shift, I felt the weight of grief return. A grief we all seemed to share. But threaded through the sorrow was something unmistakable: the enduring spirit of defiance. It lingered in the quiet conviction of those who refuse to let the world look away.
Clara Cheung, the exhibition’s curator and co-founder of C&G Artpartment
Art as Resistance
The exhibition, presented by the Human Rights Foundation at Atelie Studio, gathered dissident artists from Hong Kong, Burma, Tibet, and China. Among the featured works was Mao’s Guilt by the Gao Brothers, a life-sized, bronze statue of Mao Zedong kneeling, hands clasped in apparent remorse. The older brother, Gao Zhen, was recently detained in China for his earlier artworks challenging the regime. His arrest loomed silently over the sculpture, a reminder of what dissent can cost.
“Art has always played a powerful role in freedom and democracy movements,” said Clara Cheung, the exhibition’s curator and co-founder of C&G Artpartment. “It communicates in ways that transcend language—provoking thought, emotion, and action.”
Cheung, a former elected councilor in Hong Kong, resigned in 2021 amid intensifying political threats. She now lives in the UK, where she continues to work at the intersection of art, public memory, and activism.
“We need both forms of protest art: the raw, energetic presence on the streets and the contemplative power within gallery walls. After the momentum of street demonstrations fades, critical art becomes essential,” she said. “It helps communities process, reflect, and reimagine the path forward. For me personally, art is not just a medium of expression—it’s a form of resistance, a space for healing, and a catalyst for change.”
Mao’s Guilt by Gao Brothers at Oslo Freedom Forum exihbition
From Burma, the artist Sai contributed a satirical manual detailing the military junta’s methods of abduction and torture, while Ma and K shared video works and children’s drawings documenting life under Myanmar’s regime. Tibetan-American artist Tenzing Rigdol contributed paintings meditating on exile and cultural survival.
“This exhibition is, at its core, about solidarity,” Cheung added. “It brings together voices from Burma, China, Tibet, and Hong Kong—highlighting the shared struggles and interconnected aspirations of these communities.”
For Cheung, curating the exhibition was also an emotional journey.
“One of the greatest challenges is confronting the realities reflected in the artworks—realities that are often violent, heartbreaking, and ongoing,” she said. “It was particularly painful to see the drawings by Burmese children. Their artworks depict scenes of violence and fear that no child should ever have to witness, let alone live through.”
Yet despite the grief that runs through both the art and the panel discussion, the underlying tone is one of determination.
“As the artist Sai said, ‘It is only through solidarity that we can win.’ Repressive regimes have long collaborated across borders to suppress people’s freedoms, and we must respond with equally united resistance,” Cheung said.
“I hope this exhibition serves as a reminder that the fight for justice is global, and that only through collective resistance can we challenge these entrenched systems of oppression,” she furthers.
Photos provided by Oslo Freedom Forum and Clara Cheung of The Guilty Must Kneel exhibition.
The Illusion of Stability
That resistance extended to the Forum’s panel, From Hub to Crisis: Hong Kong’s Shift, where activists unpacked the transformation of the city once known as Asia’s world city.
Anna Kwok, an exiled Hong Kong activist, was originally scheduled to speak. But on May 2, her father was arrested on financial charges—a move widely interpreted as state retaliation. Carmen Lau, senior international advocacy associate at the Hong Kong Democracy Council, took her seat.
“There is an illusion that business is normal,” Lau said. “But that is not the case.”
Having fled in 2021 at age 26, Lau also spoke of how exile affects the financial autonomy of millions of Hongkongers. Her pension contributions remain inaccessible, and her bank accounts frozen due to the arrest warrant against her.
“From a personal perspective, I see it as our own money. We do have the rights to retrieve it,” she said. “It’s disturbing.”
Chloe Cheung, now 20, joined the movement at 14 and left Hong Kong at 15. Today, she is a member of the Committee for Freedom in Hong Kong Foundation. In December 2024, Hong Kong authorities placed a HK$1 million bounty on her head, matching the amount placed on Lau.
“For me, freedom means living without fear, being able to speak, think, and act according to one’s conscience without threat of retaliation,” she said. “True freedom for Hong Kong would mean the return of civil liberties, universal suffrage, no political prisoners, and the rule of law, grounded in accountability and respect for human rights.”
Cheung wants to go home. “The first thing I’d want to do is walk down the streets of Hong Kong, hold my head high, and speak publicly without self-censorship or fear—something so simple, yet so out of reach right now.”
“To the people in Hong Kong,” she added, “I know how hard it is to live under such intense repression, where even speaking your mind can come at a heavy cost. But I want you to know that you are not alone. Even if it feels like the world has moved on, there are still people fighting for Hong Kong’s freedom, still people who refuse to forget.”
Carmen Lau (left) and Chloe Cheung (Right)
(From Left to Right): Samuel Bickett, Carmen Lau, Chloe Cheung, and Benedict Rogers. All on the Oslo Freedom Forum 2025 panel ‘From Hub to Crisis: Hong Kong’s Shift‘
She continued, “I don’t see myself as anyone special. I’m just someone who refuses to accept injustice. If my actions inspire you, I hope it’s not just admiration, but a motivation to take action in your own way. And if you ever feel powerless, remember that every act, no matter how small, matters.”
“Hong Kong is a city of two faces,” said Simon Bickett, a lawyer and researcher, during the panel.
He pointed to the third annual Global Financial Leaders’ Investment Summit, hosted last November in Hong Kong. Many of the world’s top executives were present. “They all came out and said Hong Kong is a great place for investment. […] It’s stable and has a rule of law,” he said.
But the city is also “the global hub for facilitating weapon components” being shipped to Russia, North Korea, and Iran, he added, citing a report he is involved in. “The takeaway for many of you is this: Most of you care about world human rights—but you care particularly, one country, one movement. Wherever your dictator is, Hong Kong is helping them.”
Wherever your dictator is, Hong Kong is helping them.
Samuel bickett, a lawyer, activist, and researcher specializing in human rights, economic sanctions, and rule of law, with a particular focus on Hong Kong and China. Previously based in Hong Kong, he was detained as a political prisoner in 2021 and 2022, before being expelled by the Hong Kong government.
A Reckoning Across Borders
The struggle for Hong Kong’s future now extends beyond its borders. It is being fought in courtrooms, galleries, parliaments, and private homes abroad. And even in exile, its advocates refuse to be silenced.
But that silence is still being enforced—just through different means.
Both Chloe Cheung and Carmen Lau have received anonymous letters in exile. The envelopes contained their personal information and offered rewards if they were reported to the Chinese Embassy. Benedict Rogers, a British human rights activist and co-founder of Hong Kong Watch, also received threatening letters—ones sent to his mother and neighbours. No reward was necessary to make the point clear that overseas critics remain under watch. This form of transnational repression is no longer abstract, it is being delivered straight into people’s homes.
On the gallery walls and on the Forum’s stage, that defiance was more than symbolic. It was a declaration: Exile is not silence. Diaspora is not surrender. And solidarity, even across oceans, still matters.
