In 2017, in the hillside town of Dharamshala, India, Guo Jian quietly took notes as Khenpo Sonam Tenphel, speaker of the Tibetan parliament-in-exile, addressed a gathering of pro-democracy activists. China’s repressive policies toward Tibet were the focus.
Guo, a naturalized German citizen then aged 36, wore glasses, a traditional white khata scarf, and kept his hair buzzed short. He was part of a visiting group of Chinese democracy activists from Europe.
Over the following days, he met with leaders of the Tibetan exile community, took photographs with parliamentarians, and even stood beside the Dalai Lama — revered by Buddhists worldwide, yet branded a “separatist” by Beijing.
Tibetan media praised the visitors as “Chinese supporters of the Tibet campaign.” But back in Germany, where Guo lived, unease began to spread among the Chinese dissident community.
Many in exile are cautious — using pseudonyms, avoiding sharing personal details, and relying on encrypted messaging. Guo began to violate these unwritten rules. He pushed for meetings in private homes, grew unusually deferential, and asked questions about the Dalai Lama’s health and future travels, according to Tienchi Martin-Liao, a Taiwan-born human rights advocate.
Despite early concerns, Guo rose within the Federation for a Democratic China, eventually becoming secretary general. Older members hoped he might help lead a new generation. Described as “low key” and “helpful” by some, and “aggressive” and “confident” by others, he managed logistics, fetched airport arrivals, and handled conference errands.
“We wanted him at the heart of the movement,” Martin-Liao said. “But after a while, something felt off.”
By 2023, suspicions escalated. Guo insisted on learning activists’ real names while organizing new pro-democracy events — a breach of trust that deepened the unease.
Their fears were realized when, in 2024, German authorities arrested Guo Jian on charges of espionage — alleging he had been a spy for the Chinese government since 2002.
What his fellow activists didn’t know: after the Dharamshala trip, Guo had traveled to China with far-right German politician Maximilian Krah and later became his aide in the European Parliament. According to prosecutors, Guo allegedly passed over 500 documents — including sensitive internal EU files — to Chinese intelligence, while also gathering information on political figures and exiled dissidents throughout 2023 and 2024.
Guo has denied the accusations. In a brief statement to German outlet t-online, he said he supported “German-Chinese friendship” as “a native Chinese.” Attempts by ICIJ to reach him by phone and email were unsuccessful.
Krah has also denied wrongdoing, stating on social media that he was unaware of any espionage links. Belgian authorities have launched a parallel investigation.
Guo’s arrest is part of a wider pattern. Across the democratic world — including in the U.S., Canada, Sweden, New Zealand, and Australia — authorities have uncovered networks allegedly tied to Beijing’s effort to monitor, intimidate, and neutralize overseas critics.
The revelations form part of “China Targets”, an investigation by the International Consortium of Investigative Journalists (ICIJ) and 42 media partners, exposing how China’s global repression strategy relies not only on spies, but also on civilian collaborators, digital surveillance, and influence operations involving right-wing networks, NGOs with UN access, and diaspora members tied to the Chinese Communist Party’s United Front Work Department.
The use of operatives like Guo — activists who blend into dissident communities — is seen by intelligence experts as a powerful tool in Beijing’s playbook.
“This shows just how far China will go,” said Nicholas Eftimiades, a former U.S. intelligence officer and author of Chinese Espionage: Operations and Tactics. “They’re reaching across the world to crush dissent, and intelligence work is central to that effort.”
Following Guo’s arrest, many who worked alongside him now fear they were compromised. Sheng Xue, a Canada-based activist who attended several conferences he helped organize, said, “He was very quiet, very alert. Always watching from the sidelines. And when you’re running a conference, you have everyone’s details.”
Martin-Liao echoed the concern: “If someone is collecting information for the Chinese government, they know exactly who’s in the room, who’s hosting, what’s being said. But we’re activists — not security agents.”
China’s Foreign Ministry dismissed the allegations as “media hype,” claiming Europe’s concern over “Chinese spies” was nothing new. “We cooperate based on mutual respect and non-interference,” spokesman Wang Wenbin said.
But the threat is real, say observers — with some targets of these covert operations reportedly ending up jailed, exiled, or seeing their families threatened.
At a recent G7 summit in Canada, world leaders issued a joint condemnation of “transnational repression,” calling it a major vector of foreign interference and pledging to bolster protections for affected communities.
“These aren’t just stories,” Eftimiades said. “These tactics fracture communities. They destroy trust. That’s the real damage — the fear they leave behind.”
