When five bookstore workers were led away in handcuffs in Hong Kong, accused of selling seditious literature under national security law, something older than politics stirred across the strait. Taiwan answered not with policy but with solidarity — a T-shirt slogan, a sold-out book, a hashtag — reminding the world that the suppression of ideas rarely silences them, and often amplifies exactly what it sought to erase. The episode has become a living parable about the fragility of promised freedoms, and about how the fate of one city's bookshelves has come to define the political imagination of
Hong Kong bookstore raids spark solidarity wave in Taiwan, boost banned book sales
Five bookstore employees arrested on seditious charges carrying maximum 10-year sentences; prominent Hong Kong bookseller Lam Wing-kee died earlier this month after fleeing to Taiwan.
The fact that it had been banned only made me more curious.
Mark
Why does a T-shirt slogan matter so much here? It seems like a small gesture.
Mimi
Because it's a way of saying "I could be next." When you wear those words, you're not just expressing sympathy—you're identifying with the risk. In a place where that identification could carry real consequences, it becomes an act of refusal.
Mark
The book sales surge—is that genuine interest in the content, or is it performative?
Mimi
It's both, probably. Some people are genuinely curious about what's dangerous enough to arrest over. Others are making a statement. But the distinction matters less than the fact that the book is being read, that the ideas are circulating. That's what the censorship was meant to prevent.
Mark
Why does Lam Wing-kee's death feel so central to this story?
Mimi
Because his life and death are the story. He was arrested, escaped, rebuilt his bookstore in Taiwan, and died knowing that the place he fled to was still free. His memorial—the flowers, the notes, the beer cans—that's what people are defending when they buy that book.
Mark
The professor said Taiwan's support for Hong Kong is "shallow." Does that undermine the solidarity movement?
Mimi
It complicates it. The T-shirt campaign is real, the book sales are real. But without policies—without actually helping people escape, without real protection—it's easier to use Hong Kong as a warning than to act on it. That gap between words and action is part of the story too.
Mark
What does this mean for Taiwan's future?
Mimi
It means Taiwan is watching what happened to Hong Kong and deciding it doesn't want that. The eighty percent rejecting "one country, two systems"—that's not abstract. It's people saying: we see what happened to you, and we're not accepting that deal. The bookstore raids are a reminder of why.
The Pulse
- Hong Kong authorities raided two independent bookstores and arrested five workers on seditious publication charges carrying sentences of up to ten years — the third such crackdown in recent months, with no specific titles publicly named.
- A single image — a woman walking out in handcuffs, head high, wearing a shirt reading 'I am a bookstore employee' — detonated across Taiwanese social media, pulling in lawmakers, booksellers, and the president himself.
- The banned book at the center of the raids sold out across Taiwan overnight, forcing an emergency reprint of ten thousand copies, as readers bought it explicitly as an act of defiance against censorship.
- The death of exiled Hong Kong bookseller Lam Wing-kee, whose Taipei storefront is now a flower-covered memorial, gave the moment a grief that sharpened its political edge.
- Taiwan's solidarity has remained largely symbolic — powerful in rhetoric, thin in concrete refuge or policy — even as over eighty percent of Taiwanese cite Hong Kong as proof that Beijing's 'one country, two systems' promise cannot be trusted.
- A student from mainland China, kept awake until two in the morning by news she could not have found on a domestic feed, crossed into Taipei looking for the book — a quiet measure of how far the silence extends, and where it ends.
When five bookstore workers were led away in handcuffs in Hong Kong, accused of selling seditious literature under national security law, something older than politics stirred across the strait. Taiwan answered not with policy but with solidarity — a T-shirt slogan, a sold-out book, a hashtag — reminding the world that the suppression of ideas rarely silences them, and often amplifies exactly what it sought to erase. The episode has become a living parable about the fragility of promised freedoms, and about how the fate of one city's bookshelves has come to define the political imagination of another.
A woman was escorted out of a Hong Kong bookstore with her hands behind her back and her head raised, wearing a shirt that read: "I am a bookstore employee." She was one of five people arrested in raids on two independent bookstores, charged under national security law with selling seditious publications — an offense carrying up to ten years in prison. It was the third such crackdown on Hong Kong booksellers in recent months. Authorities never publicly named the offending titles, though reports pointed to a book by NPR journalist Emily Feng examining Xi Jinping's ideological grip on China, with a chapter devoted to exiled bookseller Lam Wing-kee.
The image of her arrest crossed the strait and became a signal. On Taiwanese social media, the hashtag "I am a bookstore employee" spread among booksellers, activists, and politicians. President Lai Ching-te posted that ideas must never be silenced by political pressure. All five were eventually released on bail, but the clarity the moment produced had already traveled. Hong Kong's security chief, defending the raids, compared booksellers to food merchants obligated to ensure their inventory was safe — an analogy that struck many as precisely the wrong kind of metaphor.
In Taiwan, the news triggered a run on Feng's book. Acropolis Publishing ordered an emergency reprint of ten thousand copies. Bookshops sold out. One customer said she had never cared much about books on China until she heard about the arrests. "The fact that it had been banned only made me more curious," she said. A senior editor at Acropolis described buyers acting not out of literary interest but out of democratic conviction — purchasing the book as a statement that they would not be intimidated.
Lam Wing-kee's presence haunts the story. Arrested by Chinese authorities in 2015, he escaped, fled to Taiwan, and reopened his bookstore in Taipei. He died earlier this month. His storefront is now covered in notes, flowers, and cans of beer — a memorial to what Hong Kong's independent bookselling culture once was.
For Taiwan, Hong Kong has long functioned as political shorthand. More than eighty percent of Taiwanese reject Beijing's "one country, two systems" framework, and the 2019 crackdown is widely credited with energizing voters to elect Tsai Ing-wen. DPP legislators called the latest raids book-burning. Yet a political scientist at National Taiwan University noted that Taiwan's solidarity has rarely translated into concrete support — refugee policy, for instance — remaining instead a rhetorical frame for domestic politics.
Meanwhile, a student from Fujian province crossed into Taipei on Sunday looking for Feng's book. She had found news of the Hong Kong raids on social media — news that would never have surfaced on a mainland feed — and it kept her awake until two in the morning. "This shouldn't be happening," she said. "I think independent thought should still be allowed — at least in Hong Kong." For her, Taiwan had become the last place in the Chinese-speaking world where such a sentence could be spoken aloud, and such a book could simply be bought.
A woman walked out of a Hong Kong bookstore with her hands behind her back and her head high, wearing a T-shirt that read simply: "I am a bookstore employee." Police escorted her away. She was one of five people arrested during raids on two bookstores the previous week, accused of displaying and selling publications deemed seditious under national security law—a charge that carries up to ten years in prison.
What happened next revealed something about how fear travels across borders, and how it can backfire. The T-shirt slogan spread across Taiwanese social media like a password, a way of saying: we see you, we understand what's at stake. On the platform Threads, booksellers, lawmakers, and activists began sharing the hashtag "I am a bookstore employee" in solidarity. Taiwan's president, Lai Ching-te, posted on Facebook that ideas and words should never be silenced by political pressure. All five arrested in the raids were eventually released on bail, but the damage—or perhaps the clarity—had already spread.
This was the third time in recent months that people connected to Hong Kong's independent bookstores had been arrested. Hong Kong's security chief, Chris Tang, offered a peculiar defense of the crackdowns, comparing booksellers to food merchants: they had a responsibility to ensure their inventory was lawful, just as merchants had to ensure their food wouldn't sicken customers. The authorities never specified which books were considered seditious, but reports suggested one of them was "Let Only Red Flowers Bloom: Identity and Belonging in Xi Jinping's China," written by NPR journalist Emily Feng. The book examines how China's leader exercises ideological control over the country, with one chapter devoted to Lam Wing-kee, a prominent Hong Kong bookseller.
In Taiwan, the news triggered something unexpected: a run on the book. Acropolis Publishing, the Taiwanese publisher, ordered an emergency reprint of ten thousand additional copies. Sara Sung, a senior editor there, said some readers were buying copies as a statement of democracy and freedom, a way of saying they would not be silenced or intimidated by censorship from China. Chang Hui-ju, who owns Touat Books in Taipei, said the shop sold out completely. "Before this, hardly anyone paid attention to it," she said. "But right after the incident, the book sold out everywhere." At Kuo's Astral Bookshop, also in Taipei, the same thing happened. One customer, Wu Jia-xuan, admitted she had never been particularly interested in books about China until she heard about the arrests. "The fact that it had been banned only made me more curious," she said.
Lam Wing-kee's story threads through all of this. He was arrested by Chinese authorities in 2015, escaped custody, and fled to Taiwan, where he reopened his bookstore, Causeway Bay Books, in Taipei. He died earlier this month. The storefront now sits closed, covered with notes, flowers, and cans of beer left by supporters—a makeshift memorial to what Hong Kong's independent bookstores once represented.
For Taiwan, the Hong Kong raids have become a kind of political shorthand. Over eighty percent of Taiwanese reject Beijing's proposal that Taiwan be governed under a "one country, two systems" framework, the same arrangement that was supposed to protect Hong Kong's freedoms. Politicians from Taiwan's ruling Democratic People's Party have pointed to Hong Kong as proof of what happens when you trust that promise. The 2019 crackdown on Hong Kong is credited with energizing DPP voters to elect Tsai Ing-wen in 2020. On Monday, discussing the latest raids, DPP legislator Wu Pei-yi accused China of "burning books."
Yet the solidarity, according to Lev Nachman, a political science professor at National Taiwan University, has remained largely rhetorical. Taiwan has rarely matched its words with concrete policies—taking in refugees, for instance—to support Hong Kong. "It's very easy to use Hong Kong as a way to frame what will happen to Taiwan if the People's Republic of China is able to 'unify' Taiwan," Nachman said. But actual support has been shallow.
For people in mainland China, Taiwan has become something else entirely: the last place in the Chinese-speaking world where books can be freely accessed without fear of Communist Party censorship. One student from Fujian province visited Touat Books on Sunday looking for Feng's book. She had read about the Hong Kong raids on social media, news that kept her awake until two in the morning. "In mainland China, none of this would come up on your feed," she said. "It was quite a shock. This shouldn't be happening. I think independent thought should still be allowed—at least in Hong Kong."
Notable Quotes
Ideas and words should never be silenced by political pressure.— Taiwan's President Lai Ching-te, on Facebook
Before this, hardly anyone paid attention to it. But right after the incident, the book sold out everywhere.— Chang Hui-ju, owner of Touat Books in Taipei
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Crime & Justice