Resisting Chinese oppression: A study of East Turkistan Movement

The Uyghurs, a predominantly Muslim ethnic minority concentrated in China’s Xinjiang region, have drawn global attention due to reports of severe human rights abuses. In 2017, Beijing initiated a campaign under President Xi Jinping aimed at eradicating separatism and terrorism in Xinjiang. However, this effort has been widely condemned internationally, with the United Nations identifying it as constituting “crimes against humanity.” Allegations suggest that China has used the pretext of combating extremism to justify a systematic crackdown on Uyghurs, which some nations and organisations have labelled as genocide. Chinese authorities have linked Uyghur activism to groups like the East Turkestan Islamic Movement (ETIM), portraying them as extremists. This has led to widespread violations of human rights, including mass detentions, forced labour, and cultural suppression, further tarnishing China’s global reputation.

The East Turkestan Movement (ETM) emerged in the late 1990s as a response to decades of systemic oppression faced by the Uyghurs in the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region (XUAR), which was annexed by China following its occupation in 1949. Despite being officially recognised as one of China’s ethnic minorities, the Uyghurs were subjected to aggressive assimilation policies that sought to undermine their cultural distinctiveness through violent suppression. The ETM, founded by Turkic-speaking Uyghur separatists, represents a nationalist aspiration to establish an independent state of East Turkestan. This envisioned state would encompass regions spanning Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Turkey, Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Xinjiang, providing Uyghurs with a sovereign territory where they could freely preserve their cultural identity without interference from Communist China. The ETM combines religious and ethnic nationalism as its ideological foundation, reflecting resistance against China’s long-standing practices of cultural erasure, territorial control, and systemic marginalisation. The movement has involved not only mobilisation efforts but also armed resistance within Xinjiang as part of its broader struggle for self-determination.

China has responded forcefully to the East Turkestan Movement (ETM), branding it a “terrorist organisation” with alleged connections to transnational groups such as al-Qaeda and the Taliban, which Beijing claims aim to undermine China’s territorial integrity. This characterisation is rooted in Islamophobia and mirrors the post-9/11 environment in the West, where suspicion of Muslims intensified following the attacks. To delegitimise ETM’s separatist ambitions, China labelled it as the “most direct and realistic security threat” to its national stability. In a 2002 government report, Beijing asserted that ETM had received financial and military support from al-Qaeda to carry out militant operations within China. Leveraging the United States’ heightened security concerns after 9/11, China successfully persuaded Washington to designate ETM as a terrorist organisation. This decision, made by the U.S. Treasury Department, was based largely on Chinese claims and overlooked the possibility that Beijing was exploiting global counterterrorism efforts to discredit what many view as a legitimate liberation movement.

In addition to the East Turkestan Movement’s (ETM) armed resistance, Uyghur exiles and activists who fled Xinjiang established the East Turkistan Government-in-Exile (ETGE). Founded in 2004 and structured as a democratic parliamentary body, the ETGE shares the ETM’s goal of achieving self-determination for Uyghurs through the creation of an independent East Turkistan. Operating as a political entity, the ETGE has become a prominent global advocate for Uyghur rights, documenting human rights abuses in Xinjiang and raising international awareness of China’s systemic oppression. It has sought to hold China accountable on international platforms, aiming to end atrocities such as forced labour and mass detentions. However, like the ETM, the Chinese government has labelled the ETGE a terrorist organisation and exerted diplomatic pressure on countries that support it or criticise China’s treatment of Uyghurs. Despite these challenges, the ETGE continues to play a critical role in exposing human rights violations, including the use of Uyghur forced labour in global supply chains, which implicates products from major international industries.

The East Turkestan Movement’s (ETM) resistance extends beyond Xinjiang, encompassing Central Asian states that host Uyghur exiles fleeing Chinese persecution, where their cause has gained substantial regional sympathy. Since launching the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) a decade ago to advance its global hegemony, China has prioritised Central Asia as strategically vital. Through coercive diplomacy and economic incentives, Beijing has sought to consolidate influence over Central Asian governments, suppress Uyghur separatist networks, and dismantle nationalist aspirations among diaspora communities. The East Turkistan Government-in-Exile (ETGE) has consistently condemned regional states perceived as aligning with Chinese policies, framing such cooperation as enabling Beijing’s expansionism. In December 2024, the ETGE denounced the China-Central Asia Summit, arguing it exemplified China’s long-term strategy to erode Central Asian sovereignty through incremental geopolitical dominance.  Central Asia has emerged as a focal point in global mineral competition following Kazakhstan’s discovery of the world’s largest rare earth deposits. Recent Sino-Kazakh agreements on critical mineral extraction have raised concerns regarding Astana’s deepening economic dependency and diminishing autonomy over strategic resource management. This development underscores broader anxieties about China leveraging resource partnerships to entrench influence under BRI frameworks, potentially marginalising local agency in Central Asia.

China’s expanding presence in Central Asia poses a significant risk to the sovereignty of regional states while potentially depleting their economic resources. Under the guise of economic incentives, Beijing employs coercive tactics to influence Central Asian governments, aiming to suppress Uyghur exiles and dismantle separatist movements that have found refuge in the region. This growing influence is closely tied to China’s geopolitical ambitions, particularly through initiatives like the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), which strategically integrate Central Asia into Beijing’s broader plans for global dominance.

For the East Turkestan Movement (ETM), countering China’s manoeuvres in Central Asia is crucial to sustaining its resistance and advancing its goal of Uyghur liberation. The movement faces significant challenges as China leverages its economic power and political influence to undermine Uyghur nationalist aspirations and silence dissent. Combating these tactics becomes essential for preserving the Uyghur cause and ensuring that their aspirations for self-determination remain alive amidst China’s increasing geopolitical encroachments in the region.

 

 

 

Birangana: Pakistan’s War on Women

In December 1970, Pakistan held its first democratic National Assembly elections, in which the Awami League, a political party rooted in East Pakistan, secured a resounding victory. However, rather than accepting the will of the people, the political and military elite of West Pakistan—fuelled by an ingrained prejudice against the Bengali population, whom they viewed as socially and culturally ‘inferior’—chose to suppress their aspirations through brute military force. Their response culminated in Operation Searchlight on 25 March 1971, an unspeakable campaign of terror designed to crush Awami League activists and their supporters. Yet, what began as a targeted crackdown soon escalated into an indiscriminate genocide against the Bengali population, whose only ‘crime’ was their demand to be treated as equal citizens rather than colonial subjects.

The horrors unleashed by the Pakistan Army swept through the streets of Dacca (now Dhaka) and into the remotest villages, leaving in their wake devastation beyond measure. Among the most harrowing atrocities was the systematic sexual violence perpetrated against Bengali women, a tragedy that has been shamefully overlooked in historical discourse. These biranganas—‘war heroines’—bear the deepest scars of Bangladesh’s struggle for independence, their suffering a cruel testament to the price of liberation. Even after 54 years, the wounds of 1971 remain unhealed, exacerbated by Pakistan’s obstinate refusal to acknowledge its army’s genocidal crimes, let alone offer an apology. This shameful denial stands as an enduring stain on history, a stark reminder of justice long denied.

The horrors of war are not confined to the battlefield; they seep insidiously into the very fabric of society, leaving scars far beyond the domain of military conflict. Among the most egregious manifestations of this brutality is sexual violence, a weapon wielded with calculated cruelty to devastate both individuals and communities. In the cataclysmic events of the 1971 Liberation War, the Pakistani military orchestrated a campaign of systematic rape and torture, deploying it as an instrument of both physical subjugation and psychological annihilation. Women’s bodies, long perceived as the repositories of familial and societal honour, became the battleground upon which this barbarity was unleashed.

As Operation Searchlight unfurled its dark shadow over Dhaka, innumerable Bengali women were forcibly taken from their homes and university campuses, their destinies cruelly altered as they were transported to military barracks and confined to what can only be described as ‘rape camps.’ Subjected to relentless violation, many perished at the hands of their tormentors, their suffering rendered invisible in the tide of genocide. A sinister agenda underpinned this depravity—the calculated objective of impregnating Bengali women to dilute ethnic identity, an insidious attempt at demographic engineering. The so-called ‘war babies,’ estimated at around 20,000, were intended as a grotesque means of tethering East Pakistan’s future to the bloodlines of the West. This brutal strategy, steeped in both violence and a grotesque perversion of power, epitomized the depths to which oppression can descend in its ruthless pursuit of domination.

The horrors of the Liberation War of Bangladesh were not confined to the battlefield alone; they seeped into the very fabric of human dignity, as the Pakistan Army weaponised rape to inflict psychological trauma upon the Bengali populace. In a calculated effort to break the spirit of resistance and force submission, women were subjected to unspeakable brutality, often in the presence of their own families. With the complicity of collaborators—the notorious razakars—who abducted and delivered women, particularly from the Hindu community, the army orchestrated sexual violence on an unimaginable scale. The aftermath was as macabre as the crime itself: bodies of slain victims hung from trees, discarded in mass graves, or strewn beneath bridges—chilling symbols of the cost of nationalist aspiration. In this grotesque theatre of terror, rape was not just an instrument of war; it was a calculated strategy to annihilate the will of a people.

The systemic and brutal use of sexual violence as a weapon of war during Bangladesh’s Liberation War remains one of the darkest stains on human conscience. The atrocities committed against an estimated 200,000-400,00  women were not incidental but deliberate—a vile strategy of war designed to terrorise and subjugate a people. However, to reduce Bengali women’s role in 1971 merely to that of victims would be an egregious oversight. Women were not just passive sufferers but active participants in the resistance, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Mukti Bahini. They smuggled arms and intelligence, tended to the wounded, and even bore arms themselves—undaunted warriors in their own right. Their contributions were no less significant than their male counterparts, their sacrifices no less valiant.

It was Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman who sought to dignify these women by calling them ‘Birangana’—a title meant to honour their courage. Yet, in the post-war years, the term became tragically synonymous with shame, society reducing these war heroines to mere victims of rape, as if their suffering was theirs alone to bear. Instead of receiving the gratitude of a free nation, they were met with ostracism, rejection, and silence. Many families refused to accept them back, further condemning them to a life of isolation. The establishment of the War Crimes Tribunal in 2010 was a long-overdue step toward justice, yet the scars of betrayal remain. Pakistan has yet to acknowledge its army’s heinous crimes, and Bangladesh’s collective memory has yet to fully embrace these women as the warriors they were. On the 54th anniversary of Operation Searchlight, let us not only remember Pakistan’s war on women but also recognise the Birangana for their undying fortitude in forging a free Bangladesh.