No Comment — July 9, 2009, 2:09 pm

National Review Hearts Stalinism

In China, the world’s last enclave of Stalinism, citizens are classified by their nationality. According to Big Brother, this is designed to protect the cherished national minorities, but chances are, if you’re a Uighur, Tibetan, or Mongol, you don’t see it that way. You might be told that you can’t have a child until you’re 26, and then you’re limited to one child per couple. If you violate these rules, you may be subjected to a forced abortion. (Though Chinese officials will swear that these rules don’t apply to national minorities.) You may have come from a long line of nomadic herdsmen, but you and your father have only known forced collectivization, as the state comes to manage every aspect of your economic existence. You’re sent to special schools which–in the guise of assuring you are trained in your own culture and language–make sure that you learn no English nor any other foreign language, so that you can’t communicate with outsiders. That means that unlike hundreds of thousands of your Han Chinese fellow citizens, you won’t be able to travel overseas to get a foreign education. You find yourself quickly becoming a minority in your own land, as Han Chinese assume all jobs with responsibility and importance and you are relegated to the margins of society. You might even call these policies “genocidal”—calculated to ensure the ultimate extirpation of your race. Or you might just say that Beijing follows the example of Comrade Stalin, the “father of nationalities,” who under cover of protection of the rights of minorities sought to exterminate millions of them.

So how do you react to the brutal hand of repression? Maybe you go out into the streets and protest. Maybe you pick up some stones and throw them, and violence escalates. This is what is happening in Ürümqi, Kashgar, and other cities of Eastern Turkestan. The region is now known as Xinjiang Uighur Autonomous Region, and it is populated with various ethnic Turkic peoples of which the Uighurs are the most numerous. The Red Army entered and occupied Xinjiang in 1949, just a year before it annexed Tibet. America’s newspapers and broadcast media largely know nothing about the situation in this remote area and are fumbling about how to portray it.

But over at National Review, Andy McCarthy gives them a hand. He knows the answer. Evidently the protests are Muslim “terrorism”; Andy mocks their concerns and appears to be delighted with the heavy hand Beijing is bringing down on them.

I’d guess that Andy has never traveled to Turkestan and knows nothing about the plight of the people there. I am a regular visitor to that part of the world and have plenty of first-hand exposure. I still remember being taken on a tour of a glistening new plant in Ürümqi and being introduced to its senior staff. I paused and noted: every one of these people was a Han Chinese, imported from China proper to work in Xinjiang as part of the government’s official resettlement policy. After I asked several of the staffers where they came from, my handlers got wise to what I was up to. “Do you want to meet indigenous peoples,” he asked? “Perhaps that can be arranged, but it is difficult.” Yesterday, another Central Asianist with whom I was trading Xinjiang experiences recounted a conversation he had with Uighurs in Kashgar a few years ago. “What really upset them,” he said, “was the fact that the Chinese were emptying their prisons of convicted felons, offered their freedom if they would resettle in Xinjiang. And these convicted felons were put in positions of authority over the natives.” The message could not be clearer: Central Asians are third-class citizens, not to be trusted. And this is the sort of conduct which has led to uprisings, just like the one now occurring in Xinjiang, in Tibet, and other regions.

But of course, the Uighurs are Muslims. And that makes them into terrorists in the minds of the National Review legal affairs writer. Having taken meals with them and worked with them for two decades, I see things differently. They are proud of their Islamic heritage, and resentful of the heavy hand of the atheist Communist state. The changes in China since the early eighties have opened economic opportunities for the Han Chinese. But not for national minorities like the Uighurs. They don’t know much about America, but what they hear makes them jealous. They most assuredly are not America’s enemies, much as Andy McCarthy wants to make them into just that.

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Ashley arrived for her prenatal appointment at Black Hills Obstetrics and Gynecology, in Rapid City, South Dakota, wearing a black zip-up hoodie and Converse sneakers.1 To explain her absence from work that morning — a Tuesday in April 2015 — she had told a co-worker that she was having “female issues.” She was twenty-five years old and eight weeks pregnant. She had been separated from her husband, with whom she had a five-year-old son, for the better part of a year. The guy who’d gotten her pregnant was someone she’d met at the gym, and he’d made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her. Ashley found herself hoping that the doctor would discover some kind of fetal defect, so that her decision would be easier. She glanced across the waiting room at a television playing a birth-control ad and laughed darkly. “Jesus, Lord, it would be so nice if someone just pushed me down a flight of stairs.”

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In the exam room, she perched on the table with her feet crossed at the ankles, her blond hair brushing the back of her pink hospital gown. “I don’t know what’s available for me here,” she told her doctor, Katherine Degen, who sat facing her on a stool. “I figured nothing.”

 Some names and identifying details have been changed. 

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The baby was due in November, when Ashley, who was a nurse, hoped to be enrolled in a graduate program to become a nurse practitioner. Getting pregnant as a teenager had forced her to put that dream on hold, but she had thought that she was finally ready; she had even submitted her application shortly before the March 15 deadline. For the first time in her adult life, Ashley felt as if her plans were coming together. Then she missed her period.

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