On Fragile Borders
Lewis Hamilton examines the ethno-political borders of the Xinjiang province in China
Xinjiang province in the west of China is a haven for ethnic unrest and a microcosm of the nation’s fractured human rights record. The media are on high alert every time there is an apparent Chinese Communist Party (CCP) crackdown in the region. There are acts of repression instigated by Chinese authorities in Xinjiang: from the temporary banning of text messaging and the censorship of websites, to the arrest of teenagers for contacting a group external to the country. But what is most interesting about the region is its border, and, importantly, the significance of that border to Chinese national security, and to the political minds of the one-party state.
Xinjiang borders India, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Russia, Mongolia, and three ex- Soviet Union states: eight countries with immensely varying political systems and cultural histories. It is no wonder that cross-border migration and political ideologies blur the distinction between what is Xinjiang and what is not. Ethnically, Xinjiang is very different from the rest of China. The population is mostly dense in the western regions, which are separated from the main mass of China by the Taklamakan Desert. As a result of this geographical separation, the ethnic demographics of Xinjiang reflect the populations of its border states more than they do the rest of China. The Uyghur, who make up a minority in greater China, but a majority in Xinjiang, have never really been culturally proximate to the majority Chinese Han.
The border is still under constant strain from the remnants of the Cold War. The new and independent Central Asian countries that broke off from the Soviet Union – Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan and Kazakhstan – brought about a dynamic pro-independence sentiment among Xinjiang’s majority ethnic group, the Uyghurs, many of whom desired the sovereignty that their near neighbours had attained. That sentiment has spawned the growth of insurgency movements in the province, and raised grave concerns among policy makers about the possible secession of the region from mainland China. It is not surprising, then, that new 21st century terrorism fosters fear among Chinese ranks. Following September 11, the border between Xinjiang and Pakistan was closed by authorities in order to prevent spills of ethno-religious terrorist networks from Central Asia that could feed the insurgency movements already present in the province.
If there is one thing clear about nation-states it is that they do not like to give up territory without a fight, and China is no exception. Xinjiang contains one-sixth of China’s total landmass, as well as a good portion of its economy. Many areas of Xinjiang are rich with oil and provide China with its own, steady supply of energy. The Chinese Government will do everything in its power to ensure that every drop of oil is used for the advancement of China, so that business does not have to redirect its attention to more volatile regions, like the Persian Gulf. Undoubtedly, it has not escaped the notice of the CCP that the region is also a powerful security buffer between the vastly populated eastern provinces (as one academic has called it, the “island China” region) and the rest of Eurasia. Xinjiang, then, is more than just land and people. It is an economy, and it is vital to the continued growth and prosperity of China as a whole. The sentiment of independence that simmers in the region threatens China, and perhaps rightly so for these reasons.
A combination of tactics aimed at ethnic dilution and strategic economic development has been used to secure the province and solidify the border. Economic expansion in the region has led to masses of Chinese Han immigrants flooding into the market, increasing the ethnic population of Han Chinese from 37 per cent to 41 per cent of the total population in the province. There have been restrictions placed upon the use of Uyghur language in schools and the religious expression of the Uyghur inhabitants. Economic development policies also seek to boost the prosperity of the region and legitimate CCP rule.
Border changes have come and gone, been drawn and redrawn, crossed and re-crossed. They are the subject of diplomatic breakdowns and the cause of international battles; most importantly, they still exist in the world today, no matter how often we predict their obsoleteness. Borders still matter to states, especially borders as fragile as Xinjiang’s. Rarely do we look past the media coverage of Xinjiang province and think of why the region really matters to China. To us, it is a hotspot for ethnic unrest and human rights violations. To China’s people, however, the region is part of their identity, their security, and their future prosperity. Xinjiang is torn between cultures and politics: little wonder why it is such a priority for the CCP.
Lewis Hamilton is in his third year of Bachelor of Arts, majoring in Government and International Relations and Sociology.
