Lượng is currently being held in Nam Ha prison, serving the eighth year of a 20-year sentence that the UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention (UNWGAD) ruled to be arbitrary. As of this month, he has been held in isolation for more than eleven months, likely enduring extremely harsh conditions, and has been repeatedly denied adequate medical care, placing his health, if not his life, at serious risk.
In October this year, Media Defence submitted update letters to the UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention and the UN Special Rapporteur on freedom of opinion and expression, urging them to intervene on behalf of Lượng. Vietnamese authorities should – in compliance with international legal standards – end his solitary confinement, provide adequate medical treatment, allow the free exercise of his religion and release him.
Media Defence recently spoke with Lê Đình Lượng’s nephew, the prominent human rights lawyer and blogger Lê Quốc Quân, about Lượng and the urgency of his case. Quân, who himself spent 30 months in prison on spurious charges for his human rights work, is now supporting his uncle’s case from exile.
Deeply Rooted Sense of Social Justice
Quân says Lê Đình Lượng’s sense of justice was shaped early. “He came from a very religious family and tradition, and in our parish many [Catholic] people were put in jail after communism took hold in the 1950s,” he said. After the Geneva Accords, Catholics and other religious minorities in the North faced surveillance, pressure to abandon their faith, confiscation of church property and arrests. Lượng’s grandfather spent seven years in jail, and his father, who kept the local church functioning during the hardest years, was “often harassed and interrogated.” “He saw firsthand how the government treated our family and the Catholic community,” Quân said.
At 18, Lượng joined the army and served for five years during the Sino-Vietnamese conflicts. To him, this exposed a dissonance between the sacrifices the state demanded and how it treated its citizens, especially religious minorities. “He was still treated as a second-class citizen, even though he had devoted his youth to serving his country,” Quân said.
After returning home and going into business, he confronted another form of injustice. “He realised how much he had to deal with corrupt officials,” Quân said. “He said, ‘I would have to bribe them, eat with them, give them a share of the profit.’” It was then he decided not to, as he put it, “end up on the side of evil.”
Instead, he focused on helping those around him: challenging arbitrary taxes, contesting rising school fees and supporting communities facing local corruption. Though his efforts were local, “he gained a lot of influence, especially among young people,” Quân said.
Speaking Out Online
As internet access in Viet Nam expanded alongside economic growth, citizens found new ways to challenge corruption and repression in a media landscape tightly controlled by the State. More critics began speaking out online. “People were starting to ask questions,” Quân said, “about the dictatorship, about injustice, about corruption, all those things.”
By 2015, Lượng had begun documenting government actions online as well, Quân recalled.
In 2016, Vietnam suffered one of its worst environmental disasters. The Formosa Ha Tinh Steel plant discharged toxic waste off the coast, killing marine life and devastating the livelihoods of coastal fishing communities. “He was living in that region,” Quân said. “He suffered himself from the toxic waste and saw its consequences on fishermen and tourism.”
Formosa later admitted responsibility and paid US$500 million to the government, but affected residents reported a lack of transparency, widespread obstacles to claiming compensation and apparent misappropriation by local authorities.
Lượng helped villagers file official complaints, and when officials refused to accept them, he helped organise a demonstration. “He didn’t want to send another letter. He wanted to confront officials directly,” Quân said.
Vietnamese authorities repeatedly repressed peaceful protests over the disaster, using excessive force and, in the months that followed, arresting demonstrators and bloggers who criticised the government’s response. At least 41 activists and bloggers involved in the protests, or who reported on them, were later sentenced to long prison terms.
A Pattern of Escalating Pressure
Lượng understood that arrest for his journalistic work was likely. Quân said that in the year before he was detained, Lượng had already faced beatings and repeated threats from the authorities. Quân recognised the pattern; he himself had endured years of surveillance and harassment before his own imprisonment. Even so, Lượng continued his work. “He prepared himself mentally for trial and to be sentenced to prison,” Quân told us. “But he never gave up on his work or mobilising for the community. His work was about documenting what was happening and helping people defend themselves.”
Arrest and Sentence
On the 24th July 2017, Lượng was arrested in connection with his public interest journalism and his membership to the Viet Nam Reform Party (Viet Tan), a peaceful organisation advocating for democracy that the Vietnamese government has labelled a terrorist group.
Lượng was later charged and convicted for allegedly carrying out “activities that aim to overthrow the people’s administration” under Article 79 of the 1999 Criminal Code and handed his 20-year sentence.
According to Quân, he met the verdict with resolve. “In court, after hearing his sentence, he said clearly: ‘History will judge my actions. I am happy to go to prison if it can change the country.’”
An Unusually Harsh Prison Term
Lượng’s arrest, trial and conviction bear many parallels to those of other citizen journalists and human rights defenders in Viet Nam – who are routinely targeted for the peaceful exercise of their right to freedom of expression and for criticising the ruling Communist Party. However, Lượng’s sentence was reported at the time to be one of the harshest imposed on a political prisoner to date.
“It’s unusually long,” Quân told us. He believes Lượng’s combination of business experience and local influence made him a particular target. “Some people might be well known on the internet” Quân said “but they can’t mobilise as many people as he did in his community.”
Denial of Medical Care and Religious Freedoms
Lượng’s sentence is particularly concerning not only because of its unusual length but also because he suffers from numerous serious medical conditions, including high blood pressure, pain from osteoarthritis, gout, severe tooth pain, debilitating migraines and internal issues, including kidney problems.
Despite repeated written requests by Lượng, authorities at Nam Ha Prison, have routinely denied him adequate medical treatment. In addition, Lượng, who is still a practising Catholic, has faced restrictions on the exercise of his freedom of religion, including being denied access to a Bible and prevented from confessing to a priest, even once a year.
Legal Action Challenging the Detention
In 2018, Media Defence filed a petition and later an Urgent Appeal on behalf of Lượng to the UNWGAD. In September 2019, the working group published Opinion No. 45/2019, finding Lượng’s detention to be arbitrary and requesting that the government immediately release him, give him access to adequate compensation and other reparations and investigate the circumstances of his arrest.
The UNWGAD also expressed its concern about Lượng’s deteriorating health and the restrictions placed on his right to freely exercise his religion. Yet, almost six years after this opinion was published, Lượng remains in detention.
Ongoing solitary confinement
In recent months, Lượng’s detention conditions have worsened significantly, heightening his family’s fears that his declining health now places his life in real danger.
In early May 2025, Lượng began a hunger strike to protest the lack of access to medical care. During a phone call with his wife just a few days later, he sounded weak and issued a plea for help. By that point, both his mental and physical health had already deteriorated severely.
During a family visit later that month, prison guards interrupted a conversation between Lượng and his wife when he tried to tell her about the continuous failure to respond to his requests related to his health and religion.
When Lượng protested the curtailing of his family visit and refused to return to his cell, up to 5 prison guards violently restrained him, grabbed his neck and dragged him away. When Lượng shouted repeatedly “Nam Ha prison violates human rights” the guards covered his mouth, kicked him and pushed him back into his cell. This incident left his family, including Lượng’s two young grandchildren, distraught.
Quân says he knew that Lượng would not stay silent in prison and will continue fighting for his rights and the rights of others. “He told me he would not change his mind [about speaking out]. He would keep strong – that is also why I am afraid for him.” Quân said. “He was also fearful, but he knew what he believed was right.”
Held Incommunicado for Months
Following the incident with the guards, Lượng’s family had no contact with him for more than six months. He was completely cut off, and Nam Ha Prison provided no information. They learned only in late July 2025, from a recently released detainee, that he had been placed in solitary confinement in early June. A guard later confirmed this when the family visited, telling them Lượng was in “indefinite” isolation, dependent on his “behaviour,” and refusing to let them see him or deliver supplies.
In late August, guards again turned the family away, claiming he was on hunger strike and “did not wish to meet.” Alarmed, they insisted on a visit. Officials allowed only one relative and took her alone by electric cart to a separate building. She was told she could proceed only if she signed documents stating he “did not want to meet” and that “his health is okay.” She refused, and “they just took her back,” Quân said.
The family grew increasingly fearful. Lượng had never refused a visit before. “Why would he not want to meet?” Quân said. “It makes people start to question whether perhaps he is unwell, or worse.”
In late October, they finally received a brief phone call from him. It eased their worst fears but did little to dispel concerns that he remains in isolation and in very poor health.
Solitary Confinement in Viet Nam
As Lượng was held incommunicado for many months, and with only a single recent phone call allowed the details of his treatment in confinement and the state of his health remain unclear. Testimonies from former prisoners subjected to such measures offer some insight into the conditions that Lượng is likely facing.
Solitary confinement in Viet Nam is referred to as “prisons within prisons”. Former detainees, interviewed for a report published by Amnesty International, describe prolonged periods ‘in fetid cells without access to fresh air, clean water and sanitation’, complete darkness and total silence, as well as beatings with sticks and rubber tubes, electric shocks, punches and kicks, burns from lit paper, and being forced to remain in stress positions for extended periods.
The cells used for solitary are usually very small with just enough space for a detainee to lie down or stand up. At the prison authority’s discretion, detainees may be cuffed by either their hands or feet. They are typically confined to their cells at all times and forced to eat and relieve themselves in the same space. Medical care or contact with the outside world not allowed and the food is of low quality.
Former detainees who have endured solitary confinement have reported suicides of fellow prisoners as well as experiencing suicidal thoughts themselves.
Domestic and International laws
As Quân explained, domestic Vietnamese law sets out a maximum term of 10 days of solitary confinement. However, the actual duration of such measures is often dependent on the detainee’s behaviour or whether they admit fault and can range from a month up to several years.
For example, a former detainee interviewed by Amnesty International recounted that he was initially placed in solitary confinement for three months, and that the term was extended by a further three months when he refused to admit to the initial charges against him and the allegations that led to the imposition of the measure.
Under international legal standards, solitary confinement may only be applied in exceptional circumstances and for limited periods of time. The Nelson Mandela Rules prohibit solitary confinement for over 15 days or an indefinite period of time, and only allow for such measures where safeguards, such as independent and regular reviews, are in place. In addition, it is not allowed in cases where it would exacerbate the conditions of detainees with mental or physical disabilities.
The UN Human Rights Committee has also noted that prolonged solitary confinement may amount to a violation of Article 7 of the ICCPR, which enshrines the prohibition of torture and other cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.
An Urgent Appeal
“If the Vietnamese authorities could release Lượng and allow him to stay in Vietnam, that would be the best option,” Quân said. But he knows from experience how unlikely that is. After his own release, he wanted to remain in the country. “I didn’t want to go. But even after being released, I continued to be harassed. They told me either I leave the country or I disappear.” He fears the same pressure could await Lượng.
“For now, the first thing is to keep him alive,” he said. “Another prisoner died just a few days ago. If he must serve another 12 years under such harsh conditions, we are very afraid he could die in prison too.” Despite this, the family refuses to give up hope. “I still feel very emotional when I talk about it,” Quân said. “But we still have power, we still have good hearts, and people are continuing this work for him.”
A Call to the International Community
International attention can make a decisive difference. Quân saw this during his own imprisonment. “At the beginning, I was treated very, very badly,” he said. Then conditions shifted: officials worried his hunger strike could endanger his life and finally provided the legal texts he had demanded. “My family told me that international politicians and the media had started talking about my case,” he said. “They became more cautious and treated me more carefully. The awareness and pressure from international media, politicians and organisations is so important.”
As Simple as a Postcard
Even a postcard, Quân says, can matter. Many will never reach Lượng, but “sometimes one of the guards might let one through,” and even when they do not, it signals that people are watching. “When a prisoner receives cards like that, it shows there is international support and awareness,” he said. “They know people outside Vietnam are paying attention, and that helps protect his life.”
He remembers receiving “about 50 or 60 cards” when he was released. The gesture, he said, meant more than the senders could know.
Celebration as Resistance
Every year on Lượng’s birthday, friends, neighbours and fellow activists gather at his family home to celebrate with his loved ones, even as he remains behind bars. Quân says authorities have repeatedly tried to stop these gatherings: last year they brought a vehicle to block the road, cut phone signals inside the house and even shut down the power to break up the celebration. Still, the community keeps coming. Their quiet persistence is more than a show of solidarity; it is a reminder that Lượng’s influence endures despite the state’s efforts to silence him.
Media Defence condemns the ongoing arbitrary detention, solitary confinement and mistreatment of Lượng as well as other citizen journalists and human rights defenders in Viet Nam and calls upon the government of Viet Nam to immediately end Lượng’s solitary confinement, provide urgent access to adequate medical treatment, allow the free exercise of his religion and release Lượng from detention.
