Inquiring about the implications of a man’s statement referring to “us Chinese” in relation to involving an Australian minister in charity work, police officers interrogated Di Sanh “Sunny” Duong. The specifics of his meaning was critical – was he referring to mainland China and the Chinese Communist Party, or the local Australian Chinese community? The penalties were severe; a misunderstanding could result in a decade behind bars.
Duong, taken into custody, explained, “The term ‘Chinese’ is not always indicative of mainland China, we often say, ‘I’m Chinese,’ without implying any link to the mainland.”
The questioning persisted with the police putting forward a hypothesis as they played a recorded tape for the jury: Had Duong been attempting to cultivate a relationship with someone he perceived as a potential future prime minister, with the aim of endorsing the perspectives of the Chinese, specifically in relation to mainland China?
The early enforcement of Australia’s comprehensive laws designed to curb foreign interference, enacted almost six years ago on the back of worries about secret manipulation by the Chinese government in Western democracies, was foreseen to bring about a spate of high-profile prosecutions uncovering intricate tactics.
However, Duong’s case, which was the first to reach trial in November, was a relatively minor affair, unusually hinging on the interpretation of two words (“us Chinese”). Moreover, it involved a AUS$37,000 (approximately €22,000) contribution to a community hospital. Prosecutors alleged this eventually served as a platform for a pro-China proposition to a local member of parliament.
In December, Duong was convicted by a jury for plotting an act of foreign intervention. He was subsequently sentenced to two years and nine months imprisonment, a year of which he is anticipated to serve.
Although the case received limited coverage in Australian media, its implications have resonated across the country’s diverse immigrant communities, which make up a third of its population. Initially intended to bolster democracy against foreign influence, the new laws have sparked debate around the potential of unintentional consequences such as xenophobia or unnecessary overreactions.
Duong refrained from testifying during the trial, with his legal team refraining from calling any witnesses. However, in a detailed interview post his detention with the New York Times, he maintained that his deep-seated loyalty for China didn’t contradict his fealty to Australia and its interests. He felt victimised, caught in the crossfire of geopolitical conflict. His trial was perceived as a warning not to get too closely involved with China.
The case of Duong unfolded amidst escalating diplomatic tensions between Australia and China, eventually concluding as amicability was restored, causing certain experts to fear that Duong was unjustly judged on the grounds of association. For some, his repeated interactions with Chinese representatives provided irrefutable evidence that he was in cahoots with Beijing.
Duong was renowned for talking himself up, often exaggerating ordinary achievements like travel and over-emphasising the connections he’d made with top-ranking officials in Australia and China alike. He was born and grew up in Vietnam, and managed to escape in 1979 as part of the mass exodus of the ethnic Chinese population. He constructed a middle-class life in Australia and portrayed himself as an individual on an upward trajectory. His attempts to break into politics proved unsuccessful – particularly his 1996 state election campaign for the right leaning Liberal Party. He made steady progress up the ladder of local Chinese community groups, culminating in becoming the second-in-command at the Global Federation of Chinese Organisations from Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos, a global umbrella group. He also led its Oceania chapter.
Duong asserted that it was his time with these organisations that facilitated the establishing of relationships with representatives in China, allowing him to liaise with Australian politicians and Chinese consulate officials based in Melbourne. The consulate was asked for a comment concerning the case but did not reply.
In an earlier interview more than twelve months prior to his arrest, Duong openly joked to his peers in the Chinese-Australian community about his potential categorisation as a spy, due to his evident links to China. He proceeded to list his roles advising four Chinese provincial entities, ending with a rhetorical question, “Does that make me China’s lackey?”
Duong found himself in the crosshairs of Australia’s law enforcement, drawn in by suspicions around his relationships with groups seen to be connected to China’s overseas influence programme. Officials questioned his frequent visits to China, his repeated echoing of Beijing policies, and, notably, his boasts about his ties to an officer of Chinese intelligence. Moreover, his act of sending photographs of Falun Gong protesters to a Chinese consulate official in Australia attracted scrutiny.
In 2020, the foreign interference law led to charges against Duong. The legislation criminalises any secretive or misleading action aimed at impacting Australian political decision-making or policy on behalf of a foreign administration.
Duong’s community group successfully fundraised about AUS$37,000, which was to be given to a Melbourne hospital for Covid treatment, during a period when anti-Chinese sentiments were strong in Australia. The then immigration minister, Alan Tudge, was invited by Duong to the handover of the funds.
Though the three-week trial last year, partly not open to the public, noted Duong’s seemingly good intentions, the prosecutors opposed this. In view of his affiliations with Beijing and what was alleged to be his involvement with China’s overseas influence programme, they claimed his ultimate intentions were sinister. With these affiliations, they said Duong aimed to use his influence over Tudge for the benefit of the Chinese.
From Tudge’s offices, it was said that a background examination conducted on Duong showed no alarming findings. However, the prosecutors presented the case that Duong had been hiding his relationships with Chinese officials, even when his business card indicated his advisory roles in the province.
Before the funds were handed over, it was reported that Duong had maintained regular contact with Chinese officials in his pursuit of getting them to help him acquire surgical masks from China, which he intended to donate to the hospital. Duong, however, was unsuccessful at this. The prosecutorial lead, Patrick Doyle, cited these gestures as evidence of Duong’s undisclosed ties to the Chinese Communist Party.
In the case against Duong, the prosecution relied on an old letter he penned to a Liberal Party official at state level. This letter, described by the judge as “imprecise, infeasible, and not to be taken seriously,” proposed the idea that Australia should view China as its principal strategic ally instead of the U.S. The prosecutors contended that this was indicative of a tactic Duong might utilise again.
This, according to the Australian government, was confirmatory proof that Duong had been exploited by a part of China’s network aimed at exerting influence known as the United Front Work Department.
Doyle commented on the nuanced nature of Duong’s role and the operation of the United Front system, suggesting it’s more refined than a binary “spy versus non-spy” division. He argued this case wasn’t a narrative straight out of a spy film or a Bond movie.
He went on to inform the jury that the United Front system seeks to influence all overseas ethnic Chinese, with the goal of altering their beliefs and transforming them into agents of influence. Priority is given to those with strong patriotic sentiments towards China as well as those with power and influence.
Doyle asserted Duong embodied these two characteristics, particularly the former. According to him, the United Front system’s machinations meant that Duong became the exact type of patriot willing and able to advance the objectives of the Chinese government, even without explicit directions.
Conversely, Duong’s attorney, Peter Chadwick, argued that his client had a propensity to overstate his connections with affluent and influential individuals. He insisted that duong’s connections with Chinese officials were a business requirement for him as someone who conducted business in China, and it didn’t necessarily mean he was obliged to follow the Chinese government’s commands.
Chadwick suggested that Duong received extra scrutiny due to his Chinese roots, questioning if the situation would have been the same had Duong been of Italian descent and frequently travelled back to Italy. For this remark, hinting at racial motivation, he received a rebuke from the judge.
In the midst of the trial, Duong expressed his views in an interview, stating his conviction that a strategic partnership would be beneficial to both China and Australia. Viewing himself and his community as a liaison between the two nations, he dismissed the notion of being “too close” to China as irrelevant. “We yearn for a consistent, positive relationship between China and Australia,” he stated. The New York Times was the initial publisher of this piece. Copyright 2024 The New York Times Company.