A Journalist in Xinjiang - and a Uyghur's Truth
5 July 2023
I met Abduweli Ayup in Auckland during my interview with the creative team on the acclaimed documentary All Static & Noise. The film highlights the plight of the Uyghur people in the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region in Western China. He was one of the Uyghur individuals featured in the film. He was detained by the Chinese government for establishing a Uyghur kindergarten in Kashgar and Ürümqi. His time in the detention centre was marked by torture, but he managed to secure his release in 2014 and subsequently fled China in 2015.
Before meeting Ayup in person, I had watched the documentary, and upon learning about Ayup's experiences, I couldn't help but share my own journalistic connection to Xinjiang.
The year Ayup left China was the same year I had visited Xinjiang, only vaguely aware of the tensions between the Chinese government and the Uyghur minority.
When I mentioned my familiarity with Ürümqi and Kashgar to Ayup, he appeared wary. In my attempt to bridge a connection, I showed him some of my old photos from Xinjiang, posted on my social media account eight years prior.
This exchange sparked an intriguing conversation, as my recollection of Xinjiang as a visiting Filipino journalist differed greatly from the stark realities endured by the Uyghur community on the ground.
In my memory, my time in Xinjiang was filled with fascinating experiences, but as the years passed, reputable reports of Uyghur oppression have prompted me to think again.
Disappointingly, I had been unknowingly convinced by the staged scenes and framed narratives I encountered, unaware of the heart-wrenching truth behind the Uyghur people's suffering.
The Invitation
I was in my fourth year as a diplomatic correspondent for TV5 Network in the Philippines when a close friend, who also covers the Philippines' foreign affairs department, asked if I was interested in attending a media seminar on the Silk Road Economic Belt in China. Without hesitation, I replied, "Sure."
She recommended me to the Chinese Embassy in Manila, and on the 24th of July 2015, I received a formal invitation via email.
Admittedly, at that time, I did not possess an in-depth knowledge on the domestic issues of the People’s Republic of China (PRC). As a correspondent covering international affairs in the Philippines, my focus was primarily on foreign stories with local relevance for the Filipino audience.
Events in far west China were not part of that focus.
Anticipating my manager's questions, my initial thoughts were to find a connection to the Philippines that would make this seminar relevant. Consequently, when I showed my boss the invitation, he asked, "Xinjiang? What are you going to do there? What's the story you have? Is it safe?"
As for the safety aspect, I had no idea.
I decided to focus on the South China Sea angle. Initially, he considered it a stretch, but I argued that Xi Jinping had been in power as the President of the PRC for only four years at that time. Yet, his foreign policy was already a force to be reckoned with; even prompting the Obama administration in Washington to declare a "Pivot to Asia", and a renewed interest in the region.
I had been reporting stories on an increasingly assertive Beijing, but my focus had solely been the South China Sea and the stand-off between China and its neighbours.
I informed my manager that the focus of my story would be Xi Jinping’s ambition—the One Belt One Road (OBOR) initiative—connecting the restoration of the ancient Silk Road in Western China and Beijing’s assertiveness in the South China Sea through the establishment of the 21st Maritime Silk Road, which aimed to solidify China's determination to become the number one global economic power.
My story was approved, and I was off to Xinjiang.
The Exposure
Ürümqi is an enchanting city that exceeded my expectations with its towering skyscrapers and remarkable architecture wonders.
I wasn't the only Filipino journalist attending the seminar; there were two of us. Alongside us were journalists from various Asian countries, as well as from Russia and Egypt. The Chinese Information Office made a strategic move by inviting journalists from nations that would be directly affected by the OBOR initiative.
During the seminar, reporters from Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Uzbekistan, neighbouring countries of Xinjiang, concentrated on security and terrorism-related stories. This perspective intrigued me, especially in light of the global threat posed at the time by the expansion of the jihadist militant group, Islamic State.
The Philippines faced a similar issue with the presence of the terrorist group Abu Sayaff in Southern Mindanao.
During our Q&A session, a Pakistani journalist asked how the Chinese government could proceed with its projects in Western China in the face of terrorism.
The Chinese official responded that they were "eradicating" Xinjiang individuals who showed interest in or embraced Islamic extremism. He stated firmly that they were taking efforts to secure their borders.
I raised my hand to clarify the official's “eradicating” statement. I got it the first time, but I wanted a clearer soundbite. Then, without hesitation, he answered, "We shoot them," justifying the act as a proactive precaution.
My understanding of the domestic issues in Xinjiang was close to zero. No surprise there as the Chinese government worked hard to conceal the details of the situation.
After the 9/11 attacks in the United States, there was a new focus on the War on Terrorism policy that consciously targeted the Muslim populations in several countries.
It happened in my country, and China was no exception; that was my personal view.
Apart from lectures, we also visited various sites in Ürümqi and Changi. It was an opportunity for us to immerse ourselves in cultural events and learn about the region’s development plans, such as the establishment of economic hubs and energy generation facilities, given that the region is home to China’s largest coal and natural gas reserves.
We also toured the Xinjiang TV Station and gained insights into its operations.
The Visit
The following destination on our itinerary, and undoubtedly the most memorable for me, was our visit to Kashgar. It presented a striking contrast to Ürümqi, where the majority of the population seemed to be Han Chinese.
In Kashgar, the Uyghurs dominated the area, and what captivated me was the presence of an ancient settlement enclosed within massive walls—the Kashgar Old City.
Not too old, it turns out, as the entire area had been renovated. The Chinese government simply tore down the original ancient city and built a new one.
As we arrived at the gate, Uyghurs greeted us, adorned in their finest traditional attire; the women wore stunning headdresses, while the men had long faux beards on their faces. A vibrant parade, accompanied by music and dances, warmly welcomed our arrival.
I tried to engage in conversations with the locals, but it seemed like they were intentionally avoiding talking with me, which I completely respected. I assumed that the language barrier was likely to blame.
The place itself was magnificent, with its intricate wall designs showcasing incredible works of art. The traditional vibes, colourful textile patterns, the market, the presence of camels, and the fusion of Central Asian and Middle Eastern influences in one location were truly captivating.
However, one thing stood out to me: the streets were utterly spotless.
In certain areas, we encountered no one at all, and then out of nowhere, meticulously orchestrated performances would appear – even a traditional wedding celebration on the street.
Fellow journalists speculated that the Uyghurs were forced to perform because of our presence. I found such remarks to be rude, as I naively believed these people had gone through the effort of preparing and performing just to welcome us.
We also had the opportunity to sample Kashgar's local cuisine. One of the residents who owned one of the most beautiful houses in the walled city, graciously prepared lunch for us. To this day, I can confidently say that it was in Xinjiang that I tasted the sweetest cantaloupe.
Visiting the region was an incredible experience for me. I was there on assignment, fully focused on my story while simultaneously learning, establishing connections, and enjoying the experience. This was my firsthand account, the exact story I shared with Ayup.
However, as I expressed my fond memories of Xinjiang, he shared his own, which were so contrary to what I've observed.
THE REACTION
“I think those people are not wearing [typical clothes] during that time because [Uyghur] people wear normal clothes, they [only] wear that such [traditional] clothes when they have Uyghur festivals, and normally they don’t. So, it’s staged. Of course, because you [are] a journalist, you visited there, and the Chinese government prepared for everything before you got there,” Ayup’s reaction after showing him my photos.
When I mentioned to him that I had tried to converse with the locals, but they seemed to be avoiding me, he was not surprised, suggesting that Uyghurs were possibly instructed not to engage with us.
Based on his experience around 2012, the Chinese government began imposing strict “beautification” measures in Xinjiang. These measures prohibited Uyghurs from wearing traditional Muslim clothing, women were prevented from wearing hijabs or full body-covering garments. Men were forbidden to grow their beards long, and public praying was banned.
Uyghur literature and films were also subjected to censorship. As per Ayup, this marked the beginning of the Uyghurs’ forced assimilation into Han Chinese culture.
He also presumed that the OBOR initiative could be connected to these measures, aiming to attract more investors to the region by transforming the Uyghurs into Hans.
After the 2009 riot in Ürümqi, where Uyghur demonstrators protested the Han Chinese migration to Xinjiang, Beijing turned hostile towards the Uyghurs.
When I informed Ayup about the Chinese official's “we shoot them” remarks during the seminar I attended in Xinjiang, he wasn't taken aback.
"Beijing was determined in eradicating what they perceived as the three evils: terrorism, separatism, and religious extremism" he said .
"Such ideologies considered by the government as infectious diseases."
The reconstructed ancient city that fascinated me, which our organisers' claimed was part of the housing development plans for Uyghur communities, Ayup explained, was a tactic to confine and monitor them.
“Uyghurs should be living in the neighbourhood surrounded by walls because at that time, they started the policy that Uyghur should be inside that wall. We cannot move [freely]. If you’re a Uyghur, you should be inside that wall. They, [the Chinese police] should know [your whereabouts] 24 hours [a day].”
He added that Uyghurs had to swipe their IDs whenever they wanted to enter or leave the vicinity. They were also required to carry a distinct green card containing all their information.
“We should have [the] green card, without the green card, you can’t go anywhere, and that green card was interesting, it collects your [details], even the map of your apartment – your picture, your DNA, everything… At that time, I thought maybe they will kill us with the drone because why do you have my [house] map?”
In 2014, Beijing deployed officials to Uyghur villages, turning it into what Ayup described as "like a war zone."
“It started in 2014, in June, they sent officials to Uyghur villages, it’s just like a war zone… there were two tanks and two armoured vehicles, and those government officials [were] in the village.”
Afterwards, the authorities confiscated Uyghur history books, religious paraphernalia, CDs, DVDs, USBs, and laptops. The government even administered questionnaires to children, asking if they had witnessed their parents praying or interacting with Imams.
Massive arrests followed.
At that time, Ayup was still detained.
“I was in Ürümqi, in detention centre. Ninety percent of the people in Ürümqi are Han Chinese, the rest are ethnic populations. So in prison, most of them [the inmates] are Han Chinese – killers, everything. But in June [2014], suddenly all of them [in prison] are Uyghurs, and the Han Chinese inmates disappeared."
The mass arrests of Uyghurs was often related to their practise of Islam.
When Ayup was released later that year, he noticed significant changes in Ürümqi and Kashgar.
In 2015, the Chinese government began installing surveillance cameras throughout Xinjiang, and the following year, checkpoints were everywhere, with Chinese police and soldiers constantly in sight.
By 2017, camps around the region were established.
THE CAMPS
Ayup provided an explanation of the five types of camps in Xinjiang: night school, re-education camp, detention centre, prison, and labour camp.
Night schools and re-education camps involve ideological indoctrination. However, in night schools, individuals are allowed to return home, whereas re-education camps resemble prisons.
Torture has been reported in re-education camps, detention centres, prisons, and labour camps.
Ayup's family members, including his brother and sister, remain held in camps to this day.
According to the Uyghurs he talked to who survived it. Aside from physical torture, the camp can break a person mentally.
Ayup expressed, "They want you to know that you are not a human being anymore. You are [an] object. First thing, you are not a human being because you are [just a] number… And then they asked you to strip off, there’s a hall, prisoners are there, and then men and women in the hall, men on that side, women on that side, and you have to strip off – that’s humiliation.
“And then they asked you to wear the uniform, the prisoners’ uniform, your feeling will change because you are [already] different, with the number, with the uniform, and then you have to sign that ‘I come here as my wish.’ There’s that agreement that you have to sign.”
Ayup’s experience in the detention centre was no different from the re-education camps.
Inside, he was not Abduweli Ayup. He was number 9-2-1-5.
THE HOPE
Since 2019, Xinjiang has garnered global attention and Beijing has faced international condemnation for the atrocities inflicted upon the Uyghurs in Western China. The number of camps has doubled, and human rights violations persist in the region.
Despite this vicious reality, Ayup remains hopeful that a better future awaits the Uyghur people.
He firmly believes that China's actions are changing the global order, which is closely watched by the international community. He stresses that as China grows, it also generates adversaries on various fronts.
“Not only they have dispute with the Philippines [in the South China Sea] – they have dispute with India. They have dispute with Tajikistan and Kazakhstan and against Japan with the Senkaku Island – I believe they have problems with everyone because the Chinese government don’t recognise international law.”
“Another hope [is] that, I don’t believe human beings lost their conscience, I believe that we are doing, and we are trying, and we are fighting, and I think the world is watching – all people who have dignity will work with us. We will solve the problem.”
Xinjiang appeared to be a place that the Chinese government portrayed in a positive light – a region that was progressive and full of potential.
During my two week visit I became convinced of the economic opportunities that could arise from the restoration of the Silk Road, benefiting China as a whole.
However, reflecting on my experience, the news, and my conversation with Ayup, I am drawn to look again at Beijing’s ambition for greatness, which does not fit with the oppression of the minority groups in Xinjiang.
The latest reporting from Xinjiang indicates the worst may now be behind the Uyghurs, with re-education camps now standing empty and the worst of the social control measures easing.
But the memory remains, and with it a trauma within the Uyghur population that seems likely to be permanent.
+ the opinions expressed in this article are those of the author +
Banner image: Author's photo, inside the new Kashgar "Old" City.
-Asia Media Centre