Primer on Xinjiang

Xinjiang is big – it’s larger than France, Spain, and Germany combined. It lies nestled between the Karakoram range and the Tibetan plateau, writes Ananth Krishnan in The Comrades and the Mullahs. Throughout its history, it was looked at as a buffer zone by the Chinese, separating China proper from Central Asia. That probably explains why though it has been part of China for centuries, Xinjiang has never truly been integrated into China. (Their Muslim identity hasn’t helped either).

 

Ironically, the Chinese reforms of the 80’s allowed slightly greater ethnic autonomy (at least, on paper), created conditions for the Uighur identity (natives of Xinjiang) to solidify, set off the movement for self-determination, something they had been promised in the 1950’s. China responded with a two-fold approach – a rapid attempt to integrate the Xinjiang economy with the hinterland, and to tighten security control over the region. In 1997, riots happened in Xinjiang, and the Chinese government suspected the role of the East Turkestan Islamic Movement. From here onwards, China called any protests in the region as terrorism. With 9/11, the world’s mood towards terrorism had changed, and this only reinforced China’s classification of the region as terrorism inspired.

 

Economic development in Uighur was largely in the cities, which were increasingly populated by the majority Han with the Uighurs getting sidelined to the countryside.  Education was in Chinese, with one Uighur language subject allowed. All this only added to the resentment of the Uighurs.

 

A cycle had been set off – a stronger Uighur identity would be seen as a threat, the Chinese government would clamp down, which would then set off resentment and a reinforcement of that identity, including violence, riots and bomb attacks. But an equilibrium of some sorts had been established. Until 2014. That’s when a group of masked Uighur attackers went on a rampage at a train station 3,500 km away from Xinjiang, attacking and killing 31 people and injuring 150.

 

This event is what set off the events we see and hear of in Xinjiang now. Until then, Islam was at the center of everyday life. But from that point onwards, China cracked down on Islamic classes, and banned informal, religious classes. Government appointed imams began to manage Xinjiang’s religious affairs. China dubbed the region as the one with the “three evils”, i.e., terrorism, separatism, and religious extremism. While they are no doubt intertwined, the overlap between those categories isn’t always perfect e.g. going to an unofficial Quran class could get you charged with terrorism or separatism.

 

Far more infamously, China then setup what it called “vocational training” centers in Xinjiang. Hundreds of thousands were rounded up to be “deradicalized” and “de-Islamified”. People were (and are) held without trial, right to a lawyer, or allowed to contact any relatives. They are kept in cramped quarters, and forced to attend “classes”. It was all very prison-like. This is what makes the headlines across the world.

 

In recent times, as China’s geopolitical ambitions have grown, so too has the importance of Xinjiang because it borders PoK, and so much of Central Asia, from Afghanistan to Tajikistan to Kyrgyzstan to Kazakhstan and more, all countries that China wants to include in its Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). The economic and geopolitical aspects aside, the other reason BRI matters so much to China is that, at least in Central Asia, it is an economic lever China uses to ensure those countries do not “export” terrorism into Xinjiang.

 

I could see many parallels to Kashmir in all this. While the West can only see one thing in such places – human rights abuse – the reality is far more messy, far more complicated, with geopolitical and strategic aspects thrown in as well.