If China hopes to quell unrest in Xinjiang by kidnapping, jailing or even executing scores of Uighurs, the results will fall short. Decades of oppression — economic, cultural, religious and linguistic — have at times welled into protests or riots in China’s biggest territory, as seen again this summer. Clamping down further on the region, history tells us, is more likely to fuel unrest than squash it.
Yet this is Beijing’s strategy. China seems determined to rule by fear in Xinjiang. Indeed, at this point it seems unlikely that China would be able to win over hearts and minds there even if it tried.
China’s latest warning to anyone chafing at its grip was a court ruling upholding nine death sentences handed down to alleged participants in this summer’s violence in Urumqi. That was followed by news that Chinese authorities in Xinjiang had launched another “Strike Hard” campaign to clamp down on the region between now and the end of the year.
The nine condemned to death are not likely to win reprieve from the Supreme People’s Court, which must review the sentences. Nor does it seem likely that China’s pursuit of “instigators” will end here. A press release from the Uyghur American Association said the condemned men were among 12 sentenced to death (11 Uighurs and one Han, of whom three reportedly declined to appeal), along with another nine who received varying sentences. All of their trials lasted less than a day and were nontransparent, the association said.
That should come as no surprise in China, where there is bountiful evidence of trial verdicts being determined in advance, and where sensitive trials are closed to independent observers. The veracity of the charges brought against these men will likely never be known — a sickening prospect given that 12 of them will lose their lives.
This is a microcosm of a larger affliction plaguing China, a country where countless tragedies go uninvestigated every year and the courts, prisons and laogai are a tool of the Chinese Communist Party, not justice.
The most famous example is the Tiananmen Square Massacre, a subject off limits in China even to this day, while the number of people still imprisoned over the incident remains unknown. A more recent example was the devastating Sichuan earthquake that killed tens of thousands of people. The “probes” into the “tofu dreg” schools that collapsed in the quake were, like most attempts at justice in China, a travesty.
Less publicized examples also abound, such as Xinjiang’s Gulja Massacre, many details of which remain unclear. Beijing might have learned a lesson from its 1997 crackdown on an aggrieved populace — people so distraught they were willing to risk arrest to take to the streets demanding religious and cultural freedoms. Yet China’s actions today recall the terror described by residents of Gulja after the incident. In a report last month, Human Rights Watch documented the stories of dozens of Uighurs taken away by authorities after the Urumqi riots and whose whereabouts are unknown. These disappearances were probably the “tip of the iceberg,” it said.
As long as China seeks to instill fear in Uighurs rather than address their grievances, the tension in Xinjiang will intensify. Uighurs live in terror of being singled out by police, while Han in the region increasingly live in fear of the Uighurs.
China’s handling of the situation is untenable. Rather than taking steps to resolve it, however, it is sending men to the gallows without fair trial and holding scores without due process. Further conflict seems unavoidable because China can only load its guns and aim.
In the US’ National Security Strategy (NSS) report released last month, US President Donald Trump offered his interpretation of the Monroe Doctrine. The “Trump Corollary,” presented on page 15, is a distinctly aggressive rebranding of the more than 200-year-old foreign policy position. Beyond reasserting the sovereignty of the western hemisphere against foreign intervention, the document centers on energy and strategic assets, and attempts to redraw the map of the geopolitical landscape more broadly. It is clear that Trump no longer sees the western hemisphere as a peaceful backyard, but rather as the frontier of a new Cold War. In particular,
As the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) races toward its 2027 modernization goals, most analysts fixate on ship counts, missile ranges and artificial intelligence. Those metrics matter — but they obscure a deeper vulnerability. The true future of the PLA, and by extension Taiwan’s security, might hinge less on hardware than on whether the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) can preserve ideological loyalty inside its own armed forces. Iran’s 1979 revolution demonstrated how even a technologically advanced military can collapse when the social environment surrounding it shifts. That lesson has renewed relevance as fresh unrest shakes Iran today — and it should
When it became clear that the world was entering a new era with a radical change in the US’ global stance in US President Donald Trump’s second term, many in Taiwan were concerned about what this meant for the nation’s defense against China. Instability and disruption are dangerous. Chaos introduces unknowns. There was a sense that the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) might have a point with its tendency not to trust the US. The world order is certainly changing, but concerns about the implications for Taiwan of this disruption left many blind to how the same forces might also weaken
On today’s page, Masahiro Matsumura, a professor of international politics and national security at St Andrew’s University in Osaka, questions the viability and advisability of the government’s proposed “T-Dome” missile defense system. Matsumura writes that Taiwan’s military budget would be better allocated elsewhere, and cautions against the temptation to allow politics to trump strategic sense. What he does not do is question whether Taiwan needs to increase its defense capabilities. “Given the accelerating pace of Beijing’s military buildup and political coercion ... [Taiwan] cannot afford inaction,” he writes. A rational, robust debate over the specifics, not the scale or the necessity,