By Eric Vandenbroeck
and co-workers
Why One Muslim Minority Are In Chinese
Detention Camps
For many years already, Beijing launched a brutal crackdown
that swept over 1 million Uyghurs, Kazakhs, and other Muslim minorities in
detention camps and prisons in its western Xinjiang Province; members of the
Uyghur diaspora and activists are frustrated over a lack of international
recognition for alleged
atrocities committed
by the Chinese government. These actions have drawn accusations
of genocide from international rights groups and several
Western governments, resulting in sanctions on some top Chinese officials in
Xinjiang. Official documents leaked from
Xinjiang reveal that
people were detained for such trivial causes as having traveled abroad or
simply possessing a passport, communicating with people overseas, performing
daily Muslim prayer rituals, or wearing a veil.
The exiled leader of
the Atajurt Kazakh Human Rights organization. Atajurt provided a crucial
early window into the atrocities happening in Xinjiang, focusing on the
testimonies of ethnic Kazakhs. But in 2019, Bilash was arrested on charges of inciting
ethnic hatred and
forced to end his activism before he fled abroad. As part of a
government-organized visit on January 8 to Xinjiang in cooperation with the
World Muslim Communities Council, a U.A.E.-funded organization, Mustafa Ceric,
who served as grand mufti from 1999 to 2012 and held a variety of other
influential roles within Bosnia’s Islamic community, toured the region along
with a delegation of more than 30 Islamic
clerics and scholars
from 14 countries. The tour received widespread coverage from China’s domestic and international media
outlets, focusing on comments made by Ceric, where he praised China’s growing
global role and “the Chinese policy of fighting terrorism and de-radicalization
for achieving peace and harmony in [Xinjiang].”
“China, by inviting
so-called World Muslim Communities Council leaders to [Xinjiang], is still
trying to deceive the world,” Dolkun Isa, president
of the World Uyghur Congress, wrote on Twitter following the delegation’s tour. “It is a fact
that China has been engaging in a genocidal policy toward Uyghurs, and at the
same time, China declared war against Islam.” Mustafa Prljaca,
adviser to Husein Kavazovic,
Bosnia’s current grand mufti, told
RFE/RL’s Balkan Service that the country’s Islamic leadership had
nothing to do with Ceric’s visit and that the grand
mufti’s office did not agree with his statements about Chinese policies in
Xinjiang.
In response to the
growing scrutiny, researchers and some governments say that Beijing has
orchestrated a global campaign to shape world
opinion about its
abuses in Xinjiang and its treatment of Uyghurs there that consists of
spreading disinformation, search-engine manipulation, tightly managed media
tours, and enlisting social-media influencers to push propaganda and its
narrative to international audiences. “Covert and overt online information
campaigns have been deployed to portray positive narratives about the [Chinese
Communist Party’s] domestic policies in the region while also injecting
disinformation into the global public discourse regarding Xinjiang,” stated a
2021 report from the Australian Strategic Policy Institute,
a Canberra-based think tank.
In July of that year,
Bosnian Foreign Minister Bisera Turkovic
signed a joint statement at the UN Human Rights Council along with more
than 40 other -- primarily Western -- countries that expressed alarm about the
human rights situation in Xinjiang and called for an international inquiry. In
response, Milorad Dodik, then the Serbian representative of the Balkan
country’s tripartite presidency, sent an official letter to the UN asking for
Bosnia’s signature to be withdrawn from
the statement.
A redacted version of
part of a Chinese government PDF document leaked to CNN, showing records of
detainees in Xinjiang:
Starting in late
2017, Uyghur and Kazakh émigrés from the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region in
China began hearing frightening reports from relatives and friends at home—or
began losing contact with those relatives and friends entirely. Through early
2018, journalists and researchers began to flesh out the story: in the vast
Central Asian territory annexed by China in 1949, also known to many exiles as
Eastern Turkestan, the government was rounding up people who did not belong to
the country’s Han ethnic majority (including the Uyghurs, a Turkic ethnic
group) and locking them in camps. At their peak, these facilities interned
between one and two million people, and detainees were subjected to
psychological and physical torture, rape and sexual assault, forced
administration of pills and injections, persistent hunger, and sleep
deprivation. Beijing at first denied the existence of what the Chinese
government documents and signs on the facilities labeled “concentrated
educational transformation centers.” Still, officials later admitted to
establishing “vocational training centers,” which they claimed would end
extremism and alleviate poverty.
With their clear
echoes of genocides in the twentieth century, the camps prompted outrage from
international organizations, human rights groups, and governments—some of which
sanctioned Chinese companies and officials in response. Although the Chinese
Communist Party dismissed the criticisms as “lies,” it appeared to respond. By
2019, authorities had moved many internees out of the camps, announcing they
had “graduated.” This suggests that the CCP does care about international
opprobrium.
But the change was
largely cosmetic, and most of the internees have not been freed. Many of the
camps have been converted into formal prisons, and detainees were given lengthy
prison sentences, like several hundred thousand other non-Han people who have
been imprisoned since the start of the crisis. Over 100,000 other internees
have been transferred from camps to factories in Xinjiang or elsewhere in the
country. Some Uyghur families abroad report that their relatives are back home
but under house arrest. And Beijing has also been forcing tens of thousands of
rural Uyghurs out of their villages and into factories under the guise of a
poverty alleviation campaign. Today, the total number of non-Han Chinese people
in coerced labor of one form or another may well exceed the number of interned
in camps from 2017 to 2019.
The camps were just
the most famous aspect of the CCP’s broad-spectrum program of assimilation and
repression. The party has also disparaged and restricted the use of the Uyghur
language; prohibited Islamic practices; razed mosques, shrines, and cemeteries;
rewritten history of denying the longevity of Uyghur culture and its
distinctiveness from Chinese culture; and excised indigenous literature from textbooks.
These scars on the cultural landscape remain. The vaguely worded
counter-extremism and antiterrorism laws, implemented in 2014 to intern people
for everyday religious and cultural expression, are still on the books. The
infrastructure of control that made southern Xinjiang look like a war zone a
few years ago—intrusive policing, military patrols, checkpoints—is less visible
now. But that is because digital surveillance systems based on mobile phones,
facial recognition, biometric databases, QR codes, and other tools that
identify and geolocate the population have proved just as effective at
monitoring and controlling residents.
The state continues
to incentivize and likely coerce, Uyghur women to marry Han men while
promulgating propaganda promoting mixed marriages. (Uyghurs very rarely married
non-Uyghurs before the current crisis.) Uyghur children are being
institutionalized in boarding schools, where they are forced to use the Chinese
language and adopt Han cultural practices. There is little data about these
schools but escaped children tell of beatings and hours of basement confinement
for speaking Uyghur. If the “educational transformation centers” were
reminiscent of twentieth-century concentration camps, the Xinjiang boarding
schools have re-created the brutal residential institutions designed to
deracinate indigenous children in Australia, Canada, and the United States.
They also contribute to China’s broader colonial policy to Sinicize the region
by moving Han people into Xinjiang and suppressing Uyghur birth rates.
Despite the ongoing
abuses, the world has paid little attention to the atrocities in Xinjiang over
the last few years. Instead, the focus has drifted to other news relating to
China—primarily the COVID-19 pandemic. Beijing was able to convene the Winter
Olympics as planned in February 2022, with only symbolic protests from
democratic countries. The atrocities did not stop Chinese leader Xi Jinping
from being named head of the CCP for a historic third term or from stacking the
Politburo standing committee with close loyalists. It has not prevented him
from meeting with foreign leaders, including U.S. President Joe Biden.
For now, it may seem
as if President Xi is getting away with his
brutal actions in Xinjiang. But the saga in the province is still ongoing. U.S.
and European sanctions could impinge more on China’s economy as time passes,
provided governments vigorously enforce them. These economic costs would come
on top of the severe reputational costs that Beijing has incurred for its
behavior, including worsened relations with Europe and the United States. It is
unclear if these penalties will ultimately matter to Xi, who now wields nearly
unconstrained political power and is willing to subject his country to economic
and social pain in pursuit of his aims. But Xi is capable of correcting course
when his policies become disastrously costly. If the world keeps up the
economic and rhetorical pressure, it can convince China to end its efforts to repress
and assimilate the non-Han people of Xinjiang.
Too Little, Too Late
When news of the
internment camps in Xinjiang broke, it fell to the United States to set the tone
for how the international community would respond. Yet the United States was
slow. Although journalists, researchers, and a few Chinese Kazakhs and Uyghurs
who fled the country had made the extent of the atrocities blatant, Congress,
despite the rare bipartisan agreement, failed to pass a bill addressing Uyghur
human rights quickly. According to The South China Morning Post,
U.S. Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin did not want anything to upset his
negotiations with Beijing over a trade deal. As The New York Times has
reported, Apple, Coca-Cola, and Nike also lobbied to weaken the sanctions bill,
lest it harms their business interests.
But Washington’s
worst mistake came from U.S. President Donald
Trump. According to his former national security adviser, in June 2019, at
the height of the internment, Trump told Xi in person that the concentration
camps were “exactly the right thing to do.” These words’ disastrous impact on
millions of human
lives should be remembered with Trump’s rhetoric supporting Putin’s adventurism
in Ukraine and his attempt to extort Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky as
among the former president’s gravest sins in office. It is conceivable that Xi,
like Putin, has isolated himself amid yes men and is prone to doubling down on
irrational, self-defeating decisions. Trump’s vocal greenlights—one of the few
comments on Xinjiang that Xi may have heard from outside his circle—likely
prolonged and deepened the ethnic cleansing.
Still, the administration
eventually listed several Xinjiang individuals and entities for export bans and
global Magnitsky sanctions, and Congress ultimately passed the Uyghur Human
Rights Policy Act in 2020. On the last full day of the Trump administration,
U.S. Secretary of State Mike Pompeo determined that China was committing
genocide and crimes against humanity in Xinjiang. His successor, Antony
Blinken, affirmed this decision. In December 2021, Biden signed a new, stronger
sanctions law—the Uyghur Forced Labor Prevention Act—which prohibited imports
of “any goods, wares, articles, and merchandise mined, produced, or
manufactured wholly or in part” in Xinjiang unless they are proven not to be
linked to forced labor. Absent reliable third-party supply chain auditing in
the Uyghur region, this law effectively bans imports of nearly everything
connected to Xinjiang. To date, over 100 Xinjiang-related U.S. sanctions are in
place against Chinese companies, government agencies, and individuals.
Other governments
have joined Washington’s campaign. Canada, the United Kingdom, and the European
Union have all sanctioned the Xinjiang Public Security Bureau and the Xinjiang
Production and Construction Corps, a massive state-owned conglomerate dedicated
to colonial exploitation and settlement in the Uyghur homeland. Belgium, the
Czech Republic, France, Lithuania, and the Netherlands have joined Canada, the
United Kingdom, and the United States in formally denouncing the CCP’s Xinjiang
actions as genocide. Nongovernmental and intergovernmental organizations,
including the independent groups Uyghur Tribunal and the Inter-Parliamentary
Alliance on China, have reached similar findings about the nature of Beijing’s
actions, which they have backed up with copious documentation and opinions from
international jurists.
Unfortunately, the
most important international organization—the United Nations—has a more mixed record.
In August 2018, the UN Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination
forced Chinese officials to publicly explain what was happening in Xinjiang for
the first time. A Chinese spokesperson responded two days later by denying the
existence of reeducation centers already documented by researchers, including
from satellite photos. But after that staunch initial challenge, the UN has
tiptoed around the issue. Beijing has won whenever UN member states have had to
take sides over Xinjiang. Twenty-two nations (18 European countries, Australia,
Canada, Japan, and New Zealand) signed a letter to the UN High Commissioner on
Human Rights calling for China to stop the mass detentions in Xinjiang.
But Beijing quickly mobilized 37 states to sign a counter-letter that all was
well in the Uyghur Region. Last June, 19 UN Human Rights Council members voted
against a motion to debate the contents of the council’s critical report on
human rights in Xinjiang, and 11 members abstained. Only 17 voted to hold the
debate.
China’s success in
such showdowns exploits the unwillingness of states with poor human rights
records to condemn abuses elsewhere. It depends on the fear that angering
Beijing might cut off Chinese investment. Cuba voted against debating the
report, and even Ukraine abstained. Beijing also exerts intense
behind-the-scenes pressure to shape how the UN approaches Xinjiang issues. This
strategy was particularly evident, if cloaked, in the High Commissioner for
Human Rights activities. After a prolonged negotiation, High Commissioner
Michelle Bachelet visited Xinjiang in May 2022 on a five-day COVID-19 “closed
loop” tour that she stressed was “not an investigation.” In an awkward press
conference concluding her visit, Bachelet echoed Beijing’s explanations that
the camps were counterterrorism and job training programs. She adopted Chinese
terminology, referring to the internment facilities as “vocational education
training centers”—even though, according to former detainees, no vocational
training took place in the camps. Beijing’s control over Bachelet’s agenda and
selection of the people she talked to likely set the parameters for what her
short visit could achieve.
But ultimately, the
UN High Commissioner for Human Rights issued a report far more critical of
China’s behavior. When finally released, a few minutes before midnight on the
last day of Bachelet’s term as High Commissioner, the report detailed grave
concerns that Beijing was committing crimes against humanity in Xinjiang,
backed up by voluminous documentary evidence and interviews with 40 Kazakh,
Kyrgyz, and Uyghur firsthand witnesses. CCP authorities who had gloated over
Bachelet’s May press conference now denounced her report as “a patchwork of
false information that serves as political tools for the U.S. and other Western
countries to use Xinjiang to contain China strategically.” But the report never
applied the UN’s definition of genocide to Xinjiang—a glaring omission. And the
failure of the Human Rights Council to even debate the report rendered it a
dead letter, at least within the UN.
What Works
It is still hard to
judge the impact of sanctions on the economy and officials in Xinjiang. Import
bans are difficult to enforce, and fruits and nuts in packaging indicating
their Xinjiang origins were for sale in Asian markets throughout the
Washington, D.C., area in 2022—although, after activists publicized the fact
that fruit was still getting through, U.S. Customs and Border Protection seized
several shipments of Xinjiang red dates in New Jersey in January 2023. Customs
agents are more focused on interdicting Chinese textiles, but cotton from
Xinjiang hides in opaque supply chains and is processed in third countries into
garments that stock U.S. stores. So far, any pain that sanctions may have caused
has been masked by the more severe economic impact of China’s COVID-19
lockdowns (which were implemented in Xinjiang harder and for longer than
anywhere else). In any case, the CCP has shown itself willing to spare no cost
in pursuing Xinjiang policies. The conversion of the province into a digitally
securitized gulag was costly, but Beijing did not blink. The budget to support
Han settlers in the Uyghur Region seems inexhaustible.
Nevertheless, as
COVID-19 lockdowns lift and the sanctions may begin to bite as time goes on.
They could, for example, prompt international and potentially even Chinese
corporations to realize that connections to Xinjiang put them in a precarious
position. The U.S. government has signaled that it considers corporate compliance
with the Uyghur Forced Labor Prevention Act just as important as compliance
with the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act. That means that companies importing
goods to the United States from Xinjiang, and in some cases from elsewhere in
China, have to actively prove that such products were not tainted by forced
labor. Third-party auditing, such as that done by the Better Cotton Initiative,
is impossible in Xinjiang thanks to official Chinese interference, so global
firms currently dealing with Xinjiang may conclude that they have to leave the
region and perhaps the country. Already, manufacturers of solar energy
equipment are developing the capacity to produce polysilicon (of which 50
percent of the world’s supply now comes from Xinjiang) in other countries.
Nor are the sanctions
the only penalty Beijing is paying. The CCP’s “Wolf
Warriors” may respond to the international outcry with indignant retorts
and a flurry of disinformation. But the diplomatic and reputational damage to
China is real—and perhaps even more significant than the potential economic
penalties. The CCP, for example, had a chance to improve Chinese-European ties
after the Trump administration’s isolationism and insults upset U.S. allies.
But by responding to EU sanctions over Xinjiang with an ill-considered battery
of sanctions on European Parliament members across the political spectrum, Beijing
squandered the opportunity. Instead, China’s tit-for-tat effectively scuttled
the Comprehensive Agreement on Investment with Europe, a trade deal it had
spent years negotiating.
The brutality of CCP
colonialism in Xinjiang has devastated China’s relationship with Taiwan. In
December 2022, Taiwan’s legislature passed an unprecedented cross-party
resolution recognizing China’s “genocide” against the Uyghur people. The
Xinjiang atrocities are a significant reason why “one country, two
systems”—long the CCP formula for “reunifying” mainland China with Taiwan—is
dead, and Beijing’s toolbox for peacefully addressing the Taiwan issue is
thereby depleted. With military force looking like the only option, the CCP’s
increased bellicosity toward Taiwan has exacerbated tensions with the United
States. In this regard, Xi’s effort to enhance China’s security through a
crackdown in Xinjiang has backfired spectacularly.
The CCP’s attack on
the native peoples of Xinjiang has also shredded Beijing’s international
reputation, at least among the world’s advanced economies. People in democratic
countries have long expressed concerns about human rights in China—this has
been a constant. But according to polling by the Pew Research Center, the
moment when opinions of China in advanced economies turned dramatically
negative occurred throughout 2017 and 2018. This was before the Hong Kong protests, the pandemic, and the CCP
supported Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. The sharp decline does correspond with
Trump’s trade war against China, but outside of the U.S. Republican Party, few
sympathized with his unilateral imposition of tariffs. That leaves the
concentration camps as the remaining well-timed independent variable—the factor
most likely to have turned opinions in Australia, Canada, Japan, South Korea,
the United States, and Europe against Beijing.
China, of course,
does not need to heed its own people’s opinions when making policy, let alone
those of other states. The country’s government is now a personalist
dictatorship, and currently, it seems that only Xi could decide to reverse
course in Xinjiang. This does not inspire confidence. As the prolonged
zero-COVID policy vividly illustrated, China’s leader displays a reckless
disregard for what have been bedrock principles of the Chinese party-state
since 1979: prioritizing economic growth, preserving amicable access to the
advanced economies of the world, and maintaining a harmonious balance among
China’s ethnic groups.
But zero COVID also
suggests that Xi, and the Chinese party-state, can change course. After
protests made it clear that China could not lock down indefinitely, the CCP
lifted its controls, implicitly acknowledging that COVID-19 will not go away
and that the economic and social cost of trying to contain it was simply too
high. The Uyghurs are not going away, either. If the world maintains its sanctions
and scrutiny over time, it can make the price of brutalizingChina’ss
minorities unacceptable.
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