My journey to arrest and deportation from China began with an astounding bicycle trip through Nepal and into Tibet in 1995. This uphill epic into thin air, past Mount Chomolongma and Chinese border control, introduced me to a people and to a struggle for rights and freedom in Tibet. I witnessed the military occupation, still evident after 40 years, I spoke with people about the suppression of their traditional practices and religion, and about the destruction of sacred places.

Before that trip I was an elite athlete in Australia. Then I stress fractured my rib. And then a bout of glandular fever laid me low, forcing me to retire from my life as a rower, training for the Olympics. I did make it to the Olympics, finally, sort of, on August 15th when I rappelled down a 3 storey Olympics billboard in front of the iconic China Central Television building in Beijing to unfurl a 400 square foot banner that said “Free Tibet” in English and Mandarin. My four British and American colleagues and I made it past 100,000 undercover security police and 300,000 surveillance cameras, on duty for the games, to protest the absence of human rights. Over the period of two weeks in Beijing 55 activists staged eight peaceful demonstrations in solidarity with Tibetans and were arrested, interrogated and deported (some after six days in jail).

I like the Olympics and understand what it means for an athlete to dedicate their life to excellence in their field. But the subtitle of these games is “the games of peace” and having China host this important international event while continuing horrendous human rights abuse in Tibet is beyond irony. I took part in the protest action this summer because I feel a personal responsibility to be involved. As a former athlete, a person of conscience, and as someone who has witnessed first hand the fear and intimidation Tibetans live under daily, I vowed to put the same energy into the fight for justice as I had once put into my training.

Now that the Olympics are over, it is time to examine whether inviting the world in to compete at the “games of peace” was a successful debut of China on the international stage. Aside from holding a spectacular event in state of the art venues and fielding fabulous athletes, did the games help China showcase itself to the world? Indeed they did but perhaps most memorably for the activities of the regime.

Thousands upon thousands of police and undercover agents were deployed to clamp down on any sign of dissent, from Chinese citizens or foreigners. Foreign reporters, who were promised media freedom during the Games, were bullied and intimidated when they attempted to cover stories related to Tibet. Even free internet access for journalists was curtailed on the eve of the games, until international outcry brought the government to open it up again and websites about Tibet remained banned.

One memorable decree was to shut down iTunes, presumably after 40 athletes downloaded a new music album entitled “Songs for Tibet.” Meanwhile, two Chinese women, Wu Dianyuan, 79, and Wang Xiuying, 77, were sentenced to one year of “re-education through labour” for simply applying for a permit to protest (regarding the loss of their homes) at one of the government’s designated protest zones.

As the Olympics proceeded, Tibetans inside Tibet continued to suffer under intolerable conditions, with a report of a Tibetan nun, shot and killed for doing nothing more than expressing her political views (unconfirmed due to the information blackout in Tibet). Thousands of monks, nuns, and lay people are still in detention or have disappeared since the March crackdown on Tibetans who risked everything to speak out for their freedom and human rights in an uprising that spread to all corners of Tibet.  
The Beijing Olympics have certainly demonstrated China’s talents in industry, feats of organizing prowess and success in sport. What is conspicuously missing is the ability to prove itself a global leader in the more ethically challenging realm of providing and maintaining justice and freedom, for both Chinese and Tibetans.  
When I was arrested in Beijing my interrogators lectured me for hours about China’s “liberation of Tibet.” Their justification for more than 50 years of military rule in Tibet is that China’s “presence” has freed Tibetans from the feudal religious system of the Llamas. This rhetoric is even used by some westerners to rationalize China’s exploitation of Tibetan mineral and forest resources, the abuse of basic human rights, and the migration policy of moving millions of Han Chinese into Tibet over the past 50 years (this migration strategy was also used by dictator Suharto of Indonesia in the occupation of East Timor).

The 6 million Tibetans in Tibet have become a minority within their own country, and their culture and religion are essentially banned. Urban Tibetans have no choice but to learn Chinese if they want to compete for any job and survive in the local economy. Meanwhile, Tibetan nomads are forced on to reserves and banned from living the way they have for centuries. Tibetans have no right to practice their chosen religion or even attempt to restore a governance system that would respect them and their sacred places. The Tibetan government in exile is not a frozen cultural monument. It has some of the most respected leaders in the world, who have 50 years of international experience of studying governance policy, rights, and peace building. The assumption that a restored Tibetan government would implement the same feudal system as existed before is unjustified and patronising.

What is clear from these Olympics is that economic considerations are holding sway over ethical imperatives. In the past few years world leaders have begun to intimate that China’s human rights abuses in Tibet and elsewhere should be curbed. But we all have a role to play. To start with, we must hold China accountable for the detainment and torture of thousands of Tibetans, and continue to draw attention to their plight. “The games of peace” are now over, and in the realm of human rights China isn’t even close to the medals’ podium. It’s not even in the stadium.