At the end of September 2008 in Beijing, I received an invitation from some Chinese classical liberal and democracy activists to meet them for dinner at a nearby restaurant. Amongst the guests was Liu Xiaobo.

He and the others had all been under surveillance, some periodically under house arrest and others like Liu in prison for their views. But despite this, and the seemingly clandestine aura of the dinner, they all seemed very cheerful, none more so than Liu. They thought given the seeming relaxation of the repression which had followed the Tiannmen events, there was hope that the ...