Police in China can do whatever they want; after 81 days in

Hear the searing words of Ai Weiwei, artist, dissident, and prophet of our age: “Police in China can do whatever they want; after 81 days in arbitrary detention you clearly realise that they don't have to obey their own laws. In a society like this there is no negotiation, no discussion, except to tell you that power can crush you any time they want – not only you, your whole family and all people like you.” These words are not written in comfort but carved from suffering. They are the testimony of one who has felt the cold hand of unchecked authority, one who has seen how power without accountability becomes a weapon that breaks not only bodies, but the very spirit of a society.

The origin of this quote lies in Ai Weiwei’s imprisonment in 2011, when he was seized and held for eighty-one days without charge, without trial, without transparency. As one of China’s most outspoken critics of corruption and injustice, he had long used his art to challenge oppression. But in the silence of confinement, he was taught the harsh lesson he now speaks: that in a system where rulers are not bound by law, there can be no true dialogue, no protection, no safety. There is only fear, and the reminder that power may descend upon anyone, at any time.

The ancients, too, bore witness to this truth. Consider the story of Socrates, brought to trial in Athens not because he broke laws, but because his questions unsettled the powerful. Though Athens prided itself on democracy, its leaders chose to silence him through poison rather than face the truth of his words. His death was a warning: even societies that claim to value law and reason may let fear and tyranny prevail when those in power are threatened. Ai Weiwei’s cry is a modern echo of that ancient injustice.

History offers another lesson in the tale of the Soviet purges under Stalin. Millions were imprisoned, executed, or sent to labor camps, often without evidence or fair trial. Families vanished overnight, neighbors feared one another, and the people learned that survival did not depend on innocence but on silence. Like Ai Weiwei, countless victims realized that in such a society, the law is not a shield but a tool wielded by those in power, bent to their will, used not to protect but to dominate.

The meaning of Ai Weiwei’s words is clear: when power is absolute, justice dies. A state without negotiation or discussion, where laws bind only the weak and never the strong, becomes a prison for all. The crushing force of such power extends beyond individuals, seeping into families, communities, and generations. It breeds fear where there should be trust, silence where there should be dialogue, obedience where there should be conscience. In such soil, creativity and hope wither, and society becomes a husk, alive only in appearance.

What lesson shall we draw from this? That power must always be held accountable, bound by law, restrained by justice, and watched by the people. If not, it grows into a monster that devours its own children. We must learn to guard freedom not only for ourselves, but for others—especially the marginalized, the dissident, the vulnerable. For their fate today may be ours tomorrow, and the suffering of one ignored becomes the suffering of many.

Therefore, children of the future, inscribe this teaching upon your hearts: never surrender law to power, nor truth to fear. Stand vigilant, speak when silence is demanded, defend the rights of even those you disagree with. For only when rulers obey the same laws as the ruled can society be just; only when power is restrained can families live without fear. And remember Ai Weiwei’s warning: power unchallenged will crush, but power held to account can build. Let your generation choose not the path of fear, but the path of courage, so that your society may endure in freedom and truth.