First Class - My Deportation from China
This is a personal OpEd written by Safeguard Defenders' Peter Dahlin.
Exactly ten years ago yesterday, I was deported from China and banned from the country under its Counter-Espionage Law. It marked the end of a stint in the hell that are China’s secret RSDL jails. While Chinese rights defenders have shared stories about their detention, torture, and imprisonment, and some foreigners have publicly spoken or written about their experience with RSDL or forced televised confessions – few have testified about the experience of being deported from the country.
Prodded to remember the odd anniversary by Michael Caster, who was heavily involved in my drama, I picked up the 15-pages long “incident report” I penned down in the days immediately following my release. Catapulting me straight back in time, I decided to share, rewritten from my notes, this rather interesting and – to me at least – humorous personal experience.
Preparation
On January 21st, during what had become increasingly infrequent interrogation sessions — “only” six hours that afternoon, after weeks of daily or nightly questioning — the news finally dropped. I was to be granted “medical parole” and deported. Date of deportation unknown. Days, weeks, or months - they said they couldn’t know.
They instructed me to write a list of items I wanted from my apartment, all of which had to fit into the single backpack I owned. They said the list would be handed to Jinling, my girlfriend who had been held in the same RSDL facility. She would be allowed to go to my home and collect the things herself.
I had remained pretty stoic throughout the entire ordeal so far and committed to remaining so come what may... Yet I almost lost it when they told me Jinling was to be released in full. Keeping the tears of relief back was a rather epic battle, successful only because I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.
Later, Jinling would write (in Safeguard Defenders acclaimed book on RSDL The People’s Republic of the Disappeared):
I was told I was being taken to my boyfriend’s house to collect some items for him to take with him, that he was going to be deported from China. It was the first time I was let outside in almost a month. They said it was the coldest day of winter that day and although I was surrounded by guards and blindfolded, the crisp air felt beautiful as I inhaled a gulp of freedom before being shoved into the car and taken to his house.
Inside, Peter’s house was just as cold as the outside. It was freezing. It was filled with unwashed dishes and things scattered around, left in the haste of the raid. It felt desolate, knowing he would never see his home again, and we would never be together here again. I was told I could pack a bag of things for him and that they would give it to him.
I asked to meet him before he was deported. After going through this most important event of our lives, we needed to confirm our feelings for each other. I needed to see him, to know how he was.
They blindfolded me again and took me to a meeting room. When I arrived he was there, waiting. His beard had grown so long; he looked like a wild jungle hunter and had clearly lost some weight,
On the next day, January 22nd, around 10.30 AM, I was led across the small hallway from my cell into the “meeting room”: a room in the wing of my RSDL “residence” I’d seen only a few times before. I was to be given 30 minutes to meet Jinling, to discuss any practical issues that needed to be managed. The “bad cop” interrogator was there, and so was a translator who filmed the whole thing with a handheld camera. No touching! A rule quickly broken after she was led in. She even managed to tell me that she had been told I’d be deported on the 26th. These kinds of violations would have been met with consequences earlier during our secret detention, but this time they let it slide.
Two days later, on January 24th, I spent another afternoon in the interrogation room. I was told my deportation would happen the next day – to “be ready by lunch” and to wear my own clothes. Most of the day was spent going over the large amount of evidence seized from me, and things that would and wouldn’t be returned. The backpack Jinling packed at my house was also reviewed. Funnily enough – given their false allegations against me -, it included David Wise’s book “Tiger Trap” on US-China espionage competition.
I was also tasked to provide them with my parents' phone number, under the absurd pretense that I would be contacted when the “full legal process is complete” about retrieving any remaining confiscated items. I am still waiting.
It all started at around noon on January 25th, just as they had said.
Two people I’d never seen before came to my cell, along with the regular MSS officers and guards. They were massively built, dressed in martial‑arts‑style uniforms straight out of a Jet Li film. They looked more intimidating than anyone I’d ever met. MSS officers dressed in what looked like full parade uniforms held cameras to film the whole proceeding, right up until I was sat on the plane.
In front of the cameras and in a most formal manner, they read my release order from Residential Surveillance at a Designated Location (RSDL) out loud. They went on to explain that no talking of any kind would be allowed until I had arrived at the airport, unless in case of a medical emergency. They proceeded to blindfold me, and led me - guards holding me from each side - out of the cell, down the hallway, and into an elevator to the basement level where they placed me into the car.
It was an exact reversal of how I had arrived. And just like then, my “laowai”-nose and some slight wiggling opened up just a small enough part of the blindfold to allow me to see a bit of my surroundings. The two Jet Li guards flanked me in the backseat, while one of my main MSS officers took his seat next to the driver.
The convoy of (at least) five cars, which I could make out through the rearview mirror on a few instances, made its way from Beijing’s south fourth ring road towards the airport. It was past midnight the night I was captured, and the caravan of cars had sped through the night at around 200 km/h. Today’s move happened during the lunch rush hour. Despite their flashing emergency lights, the roughly 50km trip felt like it took forever.
Upon our arrival at the airport, things started taking on a rather surreal, sometimes even funny, aspect.
They had booked my ticket the day before using the somewhere north of 150,000 CNY they’d confiscated during the raid on my home. They spared no expense and got me a one-way first-class ticket from Beijing to Stockholm with SAS, at the whopping cost of 22,261 CNY. To this day, the only time I’ve ever flown first class. The rest of the money, to my great surprise, was returned to me among the scarce belongings in my backpack.
At this point, I hadn’t really given any thought as to how this would work in practice. Led to the gate by these burly security guards and MSS officers, maybe? But how wrong I was. We ended up driving around the airport for quite a while, until we parked outside a side-terminal. We just ended up kind of sitting there until they finally took off my blindfold and led me out of the car. Once again, officers with cameras stood ready to film as I was led into a reception hall of sorts not far from the tarmac.
I was sat in an armchair in a large, high-ceiling reception hall, with seats arranged in a square formation. Young women in traditional dresses would come and serve tea to everyone seated except me, who was given a cup of coffee instead. It felt more like the opening act of a grand formal ceremony than anything else. I later realized it is almost certain this was the Protocol / State Guest Reception Hall.
Once again they read me the official deportation and ban order in Chinese and then in English, telling me very ceremoniously I was being deported under the then (2014) Counter-espionage Law, and would be banned - or made persona non grata - for 10 years. As I write this, that ban is about to lapse.
Some officers took the passport they’d given back to me before departing the RSDL facility, and disappeared for about an hour.
In the meantime, the “bad cop” MSS officer and the two Jet Li-dressed guards were joined by two more, similarly dressed, guards. About one hour later, this odd group of people took off to a very small immigration control area, where my passport was checked and stamped. I realized this must be a special area for high-level dignitaries and felt I had just managed to score yet another “life experience” point. A small bus awaited right outside, driving us straight to the airplane - a large Airbus If I remember correctly -, flight SK966.
After stepping out on the tarmac just beside the plane, I was led up a small side stairway onto the jet bridge. The “bad cop” interrogator and his boss – a woman in her 50’s who I always assumed presided over the full RSDL facility, and with whom I’d had a screaming match weeks earlier about the torture inflicted upon me - led me up the last steps onto the very opening of the airplane door but were careful not to cross the treshold themselves. My last words were to ask them to give my regards to the “good cop” interrogator, the co-lead during my entire investigation, and “Well, I can’t say it was a fun experience, but at least it was a very interesting one”.
A line I will never forget. And dry sense of humor intact.
For the entire three hours my flight’s takeoff was delayed, the Jet Li-looking guards remained posted on the tarmac, as if they wanted to make sure I wouldn’t try to “escape” back into China… My “Bad cop” and another MSS officer standing by one of the windows on the jet bridge are the last thing I saw of China. A picture I managed to capture thanks to the USB charger reviving my long-dead phone.
Some very small parts of this have previously been published in Safeguard Defenders The People’s Republic of the Disappeared. A third edition is set for release in both English and Chinese during the first half of 2026. The book focuses on the RSDL experience of a growing number of foreign citizens, with a number of high-profile victims contributing their personal stories.
For foreign citizens that have friends, family or loved ones detained, disappeared or arrested in China, Safeguard Defenders recent practical handbook Missing in China is available in English, Chinese and Japanese for free on our website. It is specifically designed to empower family members to become the best advocates they can be for the detainee and should be a must-read for companies with at-risk foreign employees in China. It has been called a “precious gem”, “soberingly clear, comprehensive and unflinchingly realistic”, “provides essential practice advice” and “groundbreaking China analysis that policymakers should read carefully” among many other things, by foreign victims and policy experts.