Former Nissan CEO Carlos Ghosn sits down with journalist Hiroshi Sukagawa in Beirut, Lebanon to discuss Japan’s “corrupt” justice system and his escape. A summarized version is below.
Interviewer (Sukagawa): Thank you for joining us today. Beirut’s weather is quite pleasant compared to Japan.
Carlos Ghosn: Yes, about 30°C — nothing compared to Japan’s heat. Much more comfortable here.
Interviewer: We’re not here for a personal profile, but to examine in depth what happened on the day of your escape from Japan, and your views on Nissan. You’re known as the legendary CEO who turned Nissan from billions in debt into a profitable company. How do you view Nissan today, and how do you respond to being called a fugitive and the drama of your escape?
Ghosn: Many questions there. Let’s start with November 2018. My arrest was planned. It’s absurd for the head of a major global company, also representing a major French corporation, to be arrested over unreported compensation—amounts neither decided, paid, nor finalized. In normal corporate governance, issues are handled internally with prosecutors, correcting problems without damaging the company. Hurting Nissan damages Japan—its employees, shareholders, and reputation. Even former Prime Minister Abe said I shouldn’t have been involved in this. The board could have dealt with it internally, but they couldn’t remove me via the board or shareholders, so they used legal means.
If a CEO is suspected of abusing systems, the proper course is to suspend them. But here, the aim was to completely neutralize me, remove me from the system, and eliminate the risk that Nissan might fall under Renault and the French government’s influence. Anyone can see the charges were not the real reason for my arrest.
After my arrest I investigated and found it was orchestrated. Prosecutors in Japan have a 99.4 percent conviction rate, not because of plea deals, but because they coerce confessions. Once indicted, it’s essentially over—lawyers and judges are irrelevant. They pressured me: confess and things will be easier; we won’t go after your wife, children, or friends. That’s recorded, but the tapes are withheld “for containing sensitive information.” The system is corrupt.
They split charges to extend detention — 21 days for one charge, then another 21 days for new charges, threatening more if I didn’t confess. I never confessed, so they re-arrested me. International pressure finally forced them to grant bail—at $15 million, the highest in Japan. Yet I was under extreme restrictions, surveilled by cameras Nissan paid for, which was likely illegal. This convinced me I’d never get a fair trial. Staying meant 10–15 years in legal limbo, possibly re-arrested. At 64, that meant dying in that process. So I planned my escape—something prosecutors would never expect, as no one had done it before.
For a year, prosecutors controlled the narrative: “Ghosn is greedy, loves money, committed major crimes.” I couldn’t speak to any media. When I reached Lebanon, I was free to respond. People call me a fugitive; I say I fled injustice. I’m not hiding—everyone knows where I live — but Japan issued Interpol notices for me and my wife, on absurd charges, purely to pressure me.
Interviewer: You’ve said there were “rotten apples” inside Nissan. Why did they want you out?
Ghosn: They feared that if I finalized the holding company structure for Renault-Nissan-Mitsubishi, it would cement the alliance and prevent Japan from ever undoing it. I opposed a full merger—politicians liked it, but I preferred a fair holding company with no single controlling party. The French government wanted a merger, which worried some in Japan. Removing me was the way to collapse the alliance—which indeed happened.
Now Nissan and Mitsubishi are in trouble. They even tried talks with Honda, which I predicted would fail—no synergies. Both have the same strengths and weaknesses; mergers work when they’re complementary.
Renault’s then-chairman, Jean-Dominique Senard, failed in his role. He sat on Nissan’s board, knew the issues, approved budgets, and oversaw decisions that led to seven plant closures, including Oppama. Poor leadership caused job losses and a 70 percent drop in Nissan’s value—from over 1,000 yen per share to about 300 yen.
Interviewer: Japanese authorities say arrests are only made with strong evidence.
Ghosn: Nonsense. I was arrested on one charge (unreported compensation) without a finalized or paid amount. Other charges came after raids. This was about neutralizing me and dismantling the alliance. France reverted to its pre-1999 position in the auto industry, with Nissan and Mitsubishi weakened and withdrawing from markets.
Japanese prosecutors even staged events for TV — claiming to arrest me on the plane, which was false since it was at the airport). They also showed boxes taken from my home post-escape as if they contained incriminating documents, which they didn’t.
I destroyed any documents they could twist into accusations—not because I was guilty, but because I knew their malice. Japan’s hostage justice system is medieval; long interrogations without counsel, “monitored” interpreters, recordings kept only by prosecutors, no fairness.
Interviewer: Did France also act against you?
Ghosn: Yes, after Japan requested it. In France, a mere complaint freezes assets automatically as a “precaution.” This has dragged on for five years without real progress—France is following Japan’s lead.
Interviewer: About the Versailles controversy—
Ghosn: It wasn’t my wedding; it was our 10th anniversary, and part of the Renault-Nissan alliance’s 15th anniversary celebrations, attended by 250 guests, paid by the alliance, not by public funds. Two weeks later we held a similar event in Japan. The narrative was manipulated while I couldn’t speak.
Interviewer: Let’s discuss the escape plan.
Ghosn: I decided to escape 3–4 months earlier, after realizing a fair trial was impossible. I tested multiple methods before settling on the instrument case plan. It was year-end; airport staff were temporary and less alert. My advantage was no one expected me to try.
I avoided using my monitored phone—used unmonitored ones and spoke under running showers to mask sound. I disguised myself in jeans, cheap coat, casual shoes, cheap watch, glasses—things I never wore normally. In December, masks and hats weren’t suspicious. I stayed silent to avoid voice recognition.
The box was brought to an airport hotel, not my house. I walked there, entered naturally, then in the room entered the case. It was about 1.5 hours inside before boarding. I emerged only after takeoff. From Kansai Airport to Turkey, then quickly transferred in bad weather to a flight to Beirut. Landing in Lebanon at dawn felt like a rebirth.
Interviewer: What was the first thing you did after getting out of the case?
Ghosn: Drank coffee and water—needed to calm down. Then to my wife’s mother’s house; she cried when she saw me.
Interviewer: You’ve since been Red Notice-listed.
Ghosn: Interpol is just a tool, following any member state’s request. But there’s always a way around obstacles.
Interviewer: What do you do now?
Ghosn: I teach crisis management, leadership, and strategy at a private university here—sharing real experience, not theory. I also support lawsuits against Japan’s hostage justice system.
Interviewer: Will you return to Japan to stand trial?
Ghosn: Never, unless the system changes completely and the damage done to me is recognized. In France I’m fighting the charges; if I win there, Japan’s case will look absurd.
Final message to Japan: For a year after my arrest, the public only heard the prosecutors’ version, supported by Nissan and the Ministry of Economy. Even if I had done something wrong, the way they handled it was wrong. In reality, I did nothing wrong—this was a setup, prepared for months. Look at Nissan today—factories closed, communities hurt, thousands losing jobs. Would this have happened if I were still leading? That’s my question to you.


















