Let Confucianism and Islam work together: bargaining for a distinct Muslim identity in local propaganda literature

ABSTRACT

In recent years, propaganda authorities in the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region of China have orchestrated the production of posters, banners, books, news reports, and literary magazines calling for the Sinicisation of Islam. What role is played by local Hui (Chinese Muslim) writers in the production of this propaganda? This article is based on a close reading of propaganda literature from a local county between 2010 and 2017. I show that Hui writers bargain for the preservation Hui ideological and cultural particularities. While contributing to the propaganda apparatus, they bargain to find a balance between the national call for the Sinicisation of religion and their own goal of the preservation of a Hui identity distinct from Han-Chinese culture. They argue that Sinicisation in the sense of value integration benefits the propaganda goals of the Chinese Party-State in a way that is not possible with Sinicisation in the sense of cultural and ideological assimilation.

KEYWORDS:

• China
• propaganda
• literature
• Xinjiang
• Sinicisation
• minzu
• Hui
• identity

Introduction

This paper investigates the participation of Hui (Chinese Muslim) writers in the production of state orthodoxy, with a geographical focus on the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region (XUAR) in the northwest borderland of China. The region is home to fifty-six officially recognised minzu (ethnic groups and nationalities), of which the largest are the Han-Chinese, the Uyghurs, and the Kazakhs, and the Hui. Since the Communist takeover in 1949, large-scale migration of Han-Chinese people from outside the region has caused discontent within the local Muslim population, and specifically among Uyghurs in South Xinjiang. In just three decades, the Han-Chinese population in Xinjiang has increased from 291,021 (6.7%) in 1949 to 5,286,532 (40.2%) in 1982.¹ By 2020 the Han-Chinese population increased to 10.92 million (42.2%), though it is unclear to what extent this number include what appears to be a population of about three million Han-Chinese with a household registry outside Xinjiang (i.e. the so-called ‘floating’ population).² Political, social, and economic inequalities in favour of the Han-Chinese, combined with linguistic and cultural barriers, have exacerbated the divisions between the Han-Chinese and local minority minzu, in particular the Uyghurs.³ In response to local unrest, the Party-State has attempted to improve the economic situation of the region, and implemented measures of linguistic, ideological and cultural assimilation (‘Sinicisation’), while forcefully suppressing both peaceful and violent expressions of discontent.⁴ After the Urumqi riots in 2009, and violence in XUAR spilling over to other parts of China in 2014, the Party-State has built up a sophisticated surveillance capability and a sizeable system of internment camps for political re-education of minority minzu in XUAR.⁵

When government policies towards Muslim minorities in the Xinjiang region of China turned more assimilationist in the 2010s, the media in Xinjiang was flooded with content in support of these policies. Propaganda authorities mobilised their arsenal of resources to portray the assimilation of Islam into the Chinese mainstream as a struggle of good versus evil. In articles and public events, Party-State cadres and journalists repeatedly called for the preservation of amity among the minzu of Xinjiang and for the eradication of religious extremism and toxic thoughts. They praised inter-minzu friendship, depicting it as the natural display of affection among siblings. They condemned territorial separatists being prone to violence against innocent people, and certain Muslims as irrational for boycotting consumer goods made by Han-Chinese people, as well as for spreading darkness and fear by wearing Arab-style clothing.⁶

Few, if any, Western or Chinese scholars have expressed surprise at the seemingly uniform support among the Xinjiang media for Chinese government policies. Shambaugh and other scholars maintain that, despite the pluralisation and marketisation of media, the leadership of the Chinese propaganda apparatus remains fully capable of controlling the content of the information that reaches the public ‘when it decides to do so’.⁷ The case of Xinjiang is certainly an instance in which Chinese leaders have decided to control the content of the information that reaches the public. In this article, I explore the limits of this control. Although people engaged in the Xinjiang propaganda apparatus are under extreme pressure to conform to national and regional guidelines, I explore the capacity of local Hui writers to bargain for their particular concerns and interests, even when these are at odds with national and regional guidelines.

This article has three sections. In the first, employing secondary literature, I describe historical attempts by Chinese Muslims to address the religious and political concerns of Muslims in China. I show that, since at least the 17th century, Chinese-speaking Muslim scholars of the Han-Kitab (‘Han [language] books’) tradition have attempted to pursue the political and religious interests of Muslims in China by embracing state orthodoxy, and positioning attributes of Muslim identity favourably within this discourse. I do this in order to show that since imperial times, Chinese authorities have not only tolerated, but encouraged such forms of participation by elite Muslims in the production of state orthodoxy, and also to show that efforts by the Hui contributors to the literary propaganda magazine Kaidu River (Kaidu He) is a continuation of this historical trend.

In the second section of this article, using literature from the Kaidu River magazine, I discuss attempts by contemporary Hui writers in Yanqi to address what they consider to be the religious and political concerns of the Hui. I show that, although state discourse has changed, these attempts mirror and refer to similar attempts by Chinese Muslims during the Qing Dynasty (1644–1911) and the Republican Period (1911–1949).

In the third section of this article, I suggest that the participation of Yanqi Muslim writers in the production of state discourse can be described as a bargaining process between local propaganda authorities and Hui writers. Bargaining generally occurs when two parties recognise an interest in mutual accommodation.⁸ Hui writers position Hui identity attributes positively within the state discourse on minority minzu. Doing so benefits local propaganda authorities by having Hui writers contribute to the dissemination of state discourse. Thus, Hui writers have gained access to a platform for addressing the political and religious concerns of local Hui. Using this platform, and the leverage provided by their usefulness to the local propaganda authorities, the authors relate what they consider to be the religious and political concerns of Hui to the goals of the Chinese propaganda authorities. The result is a distortion of state propaganda.

This observation is important, because it defies the simplifications of the Chinese propaganda apparatus as a unilateral tool by which Chinese leaders enforce their will in the relation to the dissemination of information, if only they decide to do so. Current scholarship on propaganda in China tends to assume that the national leadership force-feeds the population its ideology through education and the media. Journalists, writers, and educators can either come to a full accommodation with state orthodoxy, or probe the borderlines of the permissible and impermissible in pursuit of their own concerns. Shambaugh, for example, refers to academic literature on how commercialisation has weakened state control over the media, while insisting that the leaders of the propaganda apparatus remain capable of demanding full accommodation when deemed necessary.⁹ Ildikó Bellér-Hann describes how Uyghur authors were able to cultivate Uyghur identity by exploiting ‘ambiguities and interstices’ in the ‘grand narrative’ of Chinese propaganda, before being silenced in 2017.¹⁰ Similarly, Rune Steenberg describes how pre-2017 authors were able to assert Uyghur identity by describing Uyghur traditions as customs instead of expressions religion.¹¹

I do not deny that the national leadership of China has tremendous authority in dictating the forms of language employed by journalists, writers, and educators. However, my findings illustrate that the delegation of the manufacturing of ‘truth’ to minority minzu means that these groups have a say in defining state orthodoxy itself. Minority minzu journalists, writers, and educators are not only exploring and probing the borderlines of state orthodoxy, but are also participating in its production. The supervisors of state orthodoxy are themselves subjected to the ambiguities of the national narrative, and are therefore receptive to the influence that minority minzu are allowed to have on the production of truth. The fact that the local Party-State relies on the literary and religious elite of minority minzu to bolster their claim to truth adds to their receptiveness to such influence, as failure to pay heed to the concerns of the minority minzu elite would mean their withdrawal from active and positively engaged participation in the production of state propaganda. The result is that even literature produced in the name of a local propaganda department – the county watchdog of political correctness – is, or at least have been, a field of contention in which national and local concerns intersect.

Methodology

My paper is a case study of a literary propaganda magazine, the Kaidu River, produced in the Yanqi Hui Autonomous County. Yanqi (in Uyghur known as Qarasheher) is an administrative unit located between the socio-geographical north and south of Xinjiang, the north being associated with Han-Chinese influence and the south being the centre of Uyghur culture in China.¹² As its name suggests, the county has a relatively high proportion of Hui inhabitants compared to other counties in Xinjiang. In 2017, according to official statistics, Yanqi was home to 91,225 Han-Chinese (52.8%), 45,786 Uyghurs (26.5%), and 31,052 Hui (18%). By comparison, the Hui made up only 4.5% of the Xinjiang population in 2010. Carrying out a case study of Yanqi allows me to compare differences in Hui and Uyghur participation in the production of propaganda.

Although Uyghurs make up a larger proportion of the Muslim minority population of Yanqi than the Hui, the production of the Kaidu River is dominated almost exclusively by Hui and Han-Chinese people. The exclusion of Uyghur participation reflect a relatively successful portrayal by elite Hui of their group as ‘good’ Muslims in contrast to Uyghurs as ‘bad’ Muslims, with good and bad being defined in terms of obedience to Party-State authorities, patriotism, and the appreciation of peace and harmony in society.¹³ It also reflects the linguistic and cultural barriers that prevent the participation of Uyghur authors in the production of literature in the Han-Chinese language (Hanyu).¹⁴ The county has no Uyghur language alternative to the magazine. Among the few contributions by Uyghur authors to the magazine, about half are translated from Uyghur to the Han-Chinese language. In contrast, Hui people generally speak Han-Chinese as their mother tongue.¹⁵

The dominance of Hui contributors to the Kaidu River explains why the contents of the magazine aligns with the Han-Kitab tradition of accommodating Neo-Confucianism and Islam. Whereas the Han-Kitab tradition is highly influential among the Hui, this is not the case among Uyghurs. Uyghurs have their own traditions of asserting Uyghur identity that are quite distinct from the Han-Kitab tradition. During the late 1990s, Justin Rudelson emphasised the oasis as a fundamental aspect of Uyghur identity.¹⁶ Gardner Bovingdon argues that intellectuals and ordinary people alike have endeavoured to build a collective identity encompassing all Uyghurs and with aspirations for national sovereignty, as opposed to integration with the Chinese state.¹⁷ Brophy emphasises the role of Kashgari merchantry in cultivating a Uyghur identity across the borders between Russia and China.¹⁸ Therefore, although I use the term ‘Chinese Muslim’ to denote the founders of the Han-Kitab tradition, this does not mean that this tradition is of direct relevance to the Uyghurs of Xinjiang as it is for the Hui, even though Islam is an important component of self-identification for many Uyghurs as well.

The Kaidu River magazine is intended for internal circulation among Yanqi cadres. It is published by the Yanqi Literature and Arts Federation under the supervision of the Yanqi CPC Propaganda Department. The editor-in-chief and vice-chairperson of the magazine, Kou Yuying, describes herself as a representative and employee of the Propaganda Department. The large majority of the contributors are or have been employed at local government institutions and party organs, including the Propaganda Department. The magazine contains literary articles, essays, short stories, poetry, and folklore. Recurring themes include advice on living a good life, advice for how people of different minzu should get along with one another, and how to educate the non-elite about socialist values. In other words, the magazine represents a propaganda effort to induce state orthodoxy in the local minority minzu population through the agency of local cadres.

The magazine was issued four times a year in the period from spring 2010 to spring 2017, with each issue containing about 70 to 75 pages of literature by about 25 to 30 different authors. I have been able to access out 18 out of 29 of the issues published. While I have read and established familiarity with all of the articles, I have focused on the most prolific contributors to the magazine, measured by the number of issues to which they have contributed. They include the Hui cadres Kou Yuying (a former primary school teacher whose family hails from the Jahriyya bastion of Zhangjiachuan), Su Xiaoquan (an aged Nationalist Party defector to the Communist Party), Liu Yinggui (a Party archivist), and Ma Guilin (a township cultural worker), and they include the Han-Chinese cadres Li Shoufeng (former Yanqi vice-magistrate), Wu Qiang (director of the Yanqi Centre for Disease Control), and Ma Lijuan (a Jahriyya author). For the purpose of representativeness, I have also focused on the few Uyghur contributors to the magazine. All but one of these contributors are authors. They include Tursun Mexmet, Anargül Niyaz, Dilmurat Telet, Zordun Sabir (a famous author from Yili, his contribution to the magazine is a translated reprint), Zurun Memmet, and Qurban Nuraxun (a village Party secretary).

I situate the participation of the Hui in the production of state orthodoxy in a historical context by referring to the secondary literature covering this topic in the Qing Dynasty (which started in 1644) and the Republican Period (1911–1949). This allows me to substantiate the claims of my article by showing that accommodation to – and appropriation of – state discourse in favour of Chinese Muslim self-assertion is part of a broader historical trend, and that this form of self-assertion has not only been tolerated but met with encouragement by state authorities since imperial times. In the past as well as in the present, state authorities have consented to Chinese Muslims’ self-assertion in exchange for active accommodation by its literary, religious, and political elite, as opposed to their apathy, passivity, or even resistance. The state’s desire for the active involvement of the Hui elite in the perpetuation of its rule means that the Hui elite has bargaining power in its aspirations for Hui self-assertion.

Much of the secondary literature used in this paper is produced by Chinese scholars. Their articles are produced under the restrictions of censorship that demands compliance with state orthodoxy. For example, authors cannot state that Han-Chinese people have oppressed minority minzu, even in a historical context, and they must refer instead to oppression by feudal rulers.¹⁹ Another bias of particular pertinence to this article is that Hui scholars are encouraged to emphasise the compatibility of Islam and state orthodoxy, which means that they may exaggerate the influence of Han-Kitab scholars over schools of Islam that are less accommodating of state orthodoxy. I will attempt to balance this bias by referring to academic works produced outside the Chinese context.

In order to substantiate my findings, I also make a few references to my visits to Yanqi in 2017 and 2018. During these short-term visits, facilitated through personal connections, I was able to collect local textual sources, observe public performances organized by the Yanqi CPC Propaganda Department, see relevant changes in the cityscape (propaganda posters, removal of religious symbols, securitisation), and engage in informal communication with a number of local cadres primarily from the cultural section of the Party-State.

My article is a case study of the Hui in a region of China in which restrictions of expressions of identity based on Islam have been more tightly regulated than in other provinces and regions. The efforts of a Hui cadre in Xinjiang to assert Muslim identity through participation in the production of state propaganda is more controversial than such efforts would be for Hui cadre in for example Ningxia or Yunnan. This difference in policy does not alter the general observation of such efforts by Hui cadres in China. Instead, the relative controversiality of asserting a Muslim Hui identity in Xinjiang verifies that such efforts cannot be interpreted merely as veiled attempts to Sinicise Islam in the service of the Party-State.

Islam with Chinese characteristics

Centuries before the founding of the People’s Republic in 1949, Chinese Muslim scholars in China began to propagate a Chinese interpretation of Islam. Since at least the 17th century, Chinese Muslim scholars have translated Arabic and Persian religious texts to Han-Chinese. They also began to write original texts in Han-Chinese. Many of these texts emphasised the compatibility of Islam and state ideology.

According to Northwest Minzu University Professor Ma Mingliang, the Han-Kitab scholars did not propagate a Chinese interpretation of Islam to serve the interests of Chinese rulers. Instead, Ma Mingliang and other Chinese Muslim (Hui) scholars in China have argued that Chinese Muslims during the Ming (1368–1644) and Qing (1644–1911) dynasties adapted in order to avoid state persecution for accusations of defying social order, and to be allowed to increase awareness of religious practices among the non-elite Chinese Muslim population.²⁰ The US-based scholar Jonathan Lipman makes the same assessment.²¹ For this reason, the most renowned of the Han-Kitab scholars, Liu Zhi (1655–1745), emphasised that both Confucianism and Islam recognise the emperor as the embodiment of God or the Cosmos’ will on earth.²² This is also the reason Ma Dexin (1794–1874) encouraged his Muslim compatriots to honour the saints of the East (China) as well as those of the West (Islam).²³

Regardless of the intention of the Han-Kitab scholars, their efforts contributed to an interpretation of Islam in the service of the Chinese authorities. These efforts were encouraged by Qing Dynasty authorities. In appreciation of Liu Zhi, Vice-Minister of Personnel Xu Yuanzheng wrote ‘although [Liu Zhi] expounds on Islam, he is in fact casting light on our Confucianism’.²⁴ In appreciation of Han-Kitab scholar Wang Daiyu (1570–1660), Confucian scholar He Hanjing, wrote that, Islam’s ‘teachings do not call for the dissolving of the [Confucian] order between the ruler and minister, father and son, husband and wife, older and younger brother, and one friend to another’.²⁵ Unlike texts deemed subversive and banned by Qing Dynasty authorities, the writings of Liu Zhi were included in the Qianlong emperor’s (1735–1796) national catalogue of books.²⁶

The writings of Han-Kitab scholars, and Liu Zhi in particular, were not only read by curious members of the Confucian elite. According to Professor Wang Feng (2012) from Ningxia University, the book Islamic Rites by Liu Zhi has been ‘profoundly influential’ among Qadim, Jahriyya Sufi, and the Hall of Western Dao (Xidaotang) Muslims in China.²⁷ According to the Hui scholar Ma Tong, Qadim and Jahriyya made up approximately 70% of the Hui population of China in the late 1980s.²⁸ According to the Jahriyya Sufi author Zhang Chengzhi, the founder of the Jahriyya school of Islam in China – Ma Mingxin (1719–1781) – went as far as to state that ‘after Liu Jielian [Liu Zhi], I am the next wali [holy man] of God.’²⁹ If accurate, this statement means that Ma Mingxin claimed Liu Zhi was the progenitor of his teachings.

After the fall of the Qing Dynasty in 1911, a new group of Chinese Muslim intellectuals emerged. Like the Han-Kitab scholars during the Qing Dynasty, these intellectuals attempted to address the political and religious interests of Chinese Muslims by situating them favourably within state discourse. As state discourse changed, so too did the discourse used by Chinese Muslims. Whereas Han-Kitab scholars tended to emphasise the compatibility of Islam with Confucian cosmology, self-cultivation, and appreciation of social order, the Chinese Muslim intellectuals of the Republican Period (1911–1949) tended to emphasise the patriotic virtues of the Hui people.

The early revolutionaries employed a racial discourse to mobilise opposition against the Qing Dynasty. They argued that because the rulers of the Qing Dynasty were Manchu and not Han-Chinese, the Han-Chinese should raise arms against their foreign rulers. The revolutionary writer Chen Tianhua (1875–1908), for example, stated that ‘all those who are not of the Han race (汉种) are not descendants of the Yellow Emperor, they are outsiders […]. If one assists them, one lacks a sense of ancestry […]. Racial feeling begins at birth. For the members of one’s own race, there is surely mutual intimacy and love […]. The Han race is one big family.’³⁰ Similarly, the early revolutionary Zou Rong (1885–1905) stated that: ‘when men love their race, solidarity will arise internally, and what is outside is repelled.’³¹ When Sun Zhongshan’s (Sun Yat-sen, 1866–1925) followers launched the Wuchang Uprising in Hubei Province in 1911, they used a flag with 18 stars representing the 18 provinces of China proper. By doing so, the rebels intentionally excluded the minority regions of Manchuria, Xinjiang, Mongolia, Qinghai, and Tibet.³² In the early days of the revolution, Sun Zhongshan himself emphasised that Chinese people were composed of a single pure race, Han-Chinese.³³

As China lost control of Outer Mongolia in 1911 and border areas to warlords, the revolutionaries concluded that their anti-Manchu rhetoric had alienated the rest of China.³⁴ Republican leaders proposed the slogan ‘Republic of Five Lineage Groups’. The Five Lineage Groups were Han, Tibetans, Mongolians, Manchus, and Hui. While Sun Zhongshan initially balked at this notion, his counterproposal was overruled by a provincial assembly in early 1912.³⁵ A five-coloured flag representing the five lineage groups or minzu was adopted (lit.: zu). In a famous speech of 1924, Sun Zhongshan used the phrase ‘Turks of the Hui religion’ (xin huijiao zhi tujueren) when referring to the Hui of the Five Lineage Groups, implying (but not explicitly stating) that his usage of the term was reserved for Turkic population groups such as Uyghurs or Kazaks.³⁶ However, non-Turk, Han-Chinese speaking Muslims of the Republican period widely understood the Hui of the Five Lineage Groups as including themselves. By the 1950s, the term was reserved exclusively for non-Turk Muslims.

Nevertheless, Republicans leaders continued to maintain that minority groups should and could be assimilated into the Han-Chinese majority. Jiang Jieshi (Chiang Kai-shek, 1887–1975) abolished the five-coloured flag in 1928 in favour of one demonstrating the homogeneity and indivisibility of Chinese minzu.³⁷ In China’s Destiny, Jiang Jieshi emphasised that the Five Lineage Groups were not different in race or blood, but only in religion and geographical environment. Manchus, Mongolians, Hui, and Tibetans were essentially Han-Chinese.³⁸ Similar to Han-Chinese, the proto-northwest minorities Xiongnu and Xianbei were merely different branches of descendants of the Yellow Emperor. The Chinese Muslims were simply Han-Chinese people professing a belief in Islam. All five lineage groups therefore required re-assimilation into the singular Chinese minzu nation.³⁹

Thus, loyalty to China as a nation became relatively more important in public discourse than loyalty to the ruler as the representative of the cosmos among mankind. Virtues were evaluated by how they benefitted the nation rather than by their correspondence to the cosmic principle of Neo-Confucianism. In this new discursive context, rather than emphasising the compatibility of Neo-Confucian cosmology and Islam, Chinese Muslim intellectuals emphasised how the characteristics of the Chinese Muslim race benefitted the Chinese nation.

For example, in 1906, a group of Chinese Muslim students in Japan argued that the martial tradition, discipline, and solidarity of Chinese Muslims were exactly what was needed to ensure the wealth and power of China.⁴⁰ From 1912 to the early 1930s, branches of the the China Muslim Progressive Association distributed a variety of texts to Xinjiang and other parts of China promoting patriotism.⁴¹ In 1930, the famous Beijing Imam, Wang Jingzhai, invoked the phrase ‘loving the country is loving the religion’. In the 1930s, Wang Jingzhai and his colleagues promoted the phrase through journals, Friday prayers, and lectures in Tianjin, Beijing, Northwest China, and Hebei Province.⁴²

US-based scholar Mao Yufeng argues that the activities of Wang Jingzhai and other Chinese Muslim intellectuals during the period served the political and religious interests of Muslims in China. Chinese Muslim intellectuals were not simply acting as pawns in the hands of Chinese leaders. They had their own agenda. To strengthen her argument, Mao Yufeng discussed Wang Zengshan’s 1938 Chinese Muslim delegation to the Middle East, Turkey, and India, which served the Republican war effort against Japan. The delegations called for Muslims in these countries to support their fellow Muslims in China. Upon returning to China, the Chinese Muslim delegates reported the mission as highly successful in changing attitudes towards Japan and China in these countries. In a 1939 memorandum to Jiang Jieshi, Wang Zengshan and his fellow delegates called for the KMT (Kuomintang; Chinese Nationalist Party) to send ambassadors and consuls and to unite with these countries. They emphasised how the sending of Chinese Muslim exchange students to Egypt could serve the Republic’s diplomatic goal of gaining allies abroad. They also emphasised how the delegation had successfully convinced approximately 6,000 Uyghur expatriates living in Mecca to return to China for its benefit.⁴³

In her article on the National Assembly Case of November 1946, North China Minzu University Professor Chen Hongmei similarly describes efforts by Chinese Muslim intellectuals to address the political and religious interests of Chinese Muslims through engagement in the nationalist discourse of China. At the Nanjing Assembly of November 1946, special electoral seats were reserved for Mongols, Tibetans, Chinese expatriates, and representatives from the army and the four provinces of Northeast China. This action meant that three out of the four officially recognised minority lineage groups received quota seats, with Manchu being represented by the Northeast China electoral seats. This situation occurred because the Republican authorities recognised the Chinese Muslims only as followers of a different religion and not as a stock separate from the Han-Chinese.⁴⁴ Ultimately, Chinese Muslims only received but 17 out of 1200 (1.4%) seats at the National Assembly. This result provoked Chinese Muslim intellectuals all across China. They claimed that Chinese Muslim representation at the National Assembly was highly disproportionate to the number of Chinese Muslims in China, which they estimated to be around 10% of the Chinese population. This estimate includes Chinese Muslims that the Communist Party during and after the 1950s would identify as minzu separate from the Chinese Muslim or Hui people. Chinese Muslim intellectuals argued that Chinese Muslims possessed attributes that were necessary for the rejuvenation of China, such as bravery and patriotism, and that they therefore were too important to be politically neglected. They argued that Chinese Muslims had made important historical contributions to China, particularly in the war against Japan, and that although Chinese Muslims may not have been a separate stock from the Han-Chinese, Chinese Muslims still ought to receive political rights reflecting these contributions.⁴⁵

Nanjing University graduate Alimu described the contributions made by Chinese Muslim intellectuals to state discourse in China since the 15–17th centuries as a more than 600-year-long ‘Sinicisation Movement’.⁴⁶ Alimu states that the term Sinicisation is not very popular among Chinese Muslims in present day China and that they prefer the term ‘Islam with Chinese characteristics.’⁴⁷ Although Alimu focuses on the influence of Neo-Confucianism on Islam, the historical movement to create Islam with Chinese characteristics has included nationalist as well as Neo-Confucian interpretations of Islam. The centuries-long transformative trend of so-called mainstream Islam in China has varied according to alterations in state discourse rather than following the track of a particular ideology. This transformative trend can be described as Sinicisation to the extent that the country (China) is identified with the predominant ideology propagated by incumbent national leadership. As such, the historical Sinicisation of Islam as described by Alimu, translates as the influence of historical state propaganda on the practice of Islam in China.

It should be noted that historical accommodation by Muslim intellectuals represents one trend and not the whole historical expression of Hui identity. For example, during the Qing dynasty, notable Hui led a number of revolts against the Chinese state. Of these, the Muslim Revolt in the Northwest (1862–1877) and the Panthay Rebellion (1856–1873) are only the most important. In spite of his order’s reverence for Liu Zhi, the fifth patriarch of the Jahriyya order, Ma Hualong, was one of the main leaders of the Muslim rebellion in the Northwest. In this article, I do not make any claims regarding the impact that the Muslim intellectuals discussed have had on expressions of Hui identity in the broader population. As demonstrated by Dru Gladney, expressions of identity among Hui communities vary significantly in different parts of China, and for many of them Islam does not constitute the primary source of normative truth.⁴⁸

Mutual adaptation

During the Qing Dynasty (1644–1911) and the Republican Period (1911–1949), Chinese Muslim intellectuals proactively participated in propaganda efforts aimed at the Muslim population in China. The Han-Kitab scholars gained official support for their Confucian interpretation of Islam. The efforts by Chinese Muslim intellectuals to portray Chinese Muslims as patriots possessing precisely the right cultural–genetic attributes required for the rejuvenation of China were similarly encouraged by the Republican leadership. Chinese Muslim intellectuals not only addressed the political and religious interests of Muslims in China by situating Chinese Muslims favourably within state discourse, but also their texts were read and appreciated by the Muslim population of China. The texts encouraged Chinese Muslims to identify with the discourse of the state. In this sense, Chinese Muslim intellectuals engaged in propaganda on behalf of the Chinese state.

During more than seventy years of CPC rule (1949–present) in China, propaganda efforts by Chinese Muslim intellectuals have been institutionalised within the CPC propaganda apparatus. Through a variety of incentives, the state apparatus encourages the Chinese Muslim literary and religious elite to participate in the production of propaganda aimed at the Chinese Muslim population. State propaganda is produced through media, art, and education.⁴⁹ Incentives include state stipends, lucrative work assignments, public honours, and a voice in the affairs of the state.⁵⁰ Through CPC propaganda departments and similar organs, the CPC supervise and guide the production of propaganda at the national, provincial/regional, municipal, and county levels of administration. Failure to adhere to the supervision and guidance of the CPC propaganda department may be penalised by means of dismissals, or even legal prosecution.⁵¹

The Kaidu River is one of the countless magazines that have produced propaganda literature under the guidance of propaganda departments in China. The magazine was active from early 2010 until early 2017. It was nominally produced by the Yanqi Literature and Arts Federation under the commission of the Yanqi CPC Propaganda Department. The Literature and Arts Federation acts as an agent for the Yanqi CPC Propaganda Department, its principal. This relationship is explicitly stated on the front cover of the magazine and is indicated by some of the contents of the magazine. Its board of directors has included county propaganda department directors, county magistrates, county culture bureau directors, leading cadres of Yanqi Town, literary authors, and journalists associated with the Yanqi CPC Propaganda Department. Although the editors claim to be motivated by an altruistic desire to produce literature for the benefit of a population starving for spiritual nutrition, the editors are also transparent with regards to the magazine’s intended servicing of the propaganda apparatus.

The magazine has functioned as a local platform for the recruitment of Chinese Muslim intellectuals in the service of the Chinese propaganda apparatus. A majority of the articles in the magazine have been produced by Hui cadres in Yanqi. The remaining articles are primarily produced by Han-Chinese cadres. Although Uyghurs comprise one-third of the Yanqi population, Uyghur voices are barely represented in the magazine. Yanqi is nominally a Hui autonomous county. The predominant position of Hui voices in the Kaidu River reflects the historical commitment of the Chinese authorities to offer particular consideration to the voices of minority minzu in their respective autonomous areas,⁵² as well as the relative marginalisation of Uyghur voices in Xinjiang.⁵³

While the magazine was active, Chinese Muslim contributors discussed the centuries-long question regarding the ‘Sinicisation’ of Chinese Muslim culture and religion. Their engagement in this subject was influenced by the conflict between the Uyghurs of Xinjiang and Han-Chinese migrants to the region. In 1950, Xinjiang Party Secretary Wang Enmao (in office: 1952–1968; 1981–1985) predicted that, ‘because Han-Chinese reactionary rulers in the past have oppressed the minority minzu of Xinjiang, a very deep historical divide exists between Uyghurs and the Han-Chinese […]. Overcoming the historical divide between Uyghurs and the Han-Chinese […] will require long-term work.’⁵⁴ In spring 1968, upon learning about a Xinjiang Red Guard rally with the title ‘Rally to Topple the Great-Han-Chauvinism of Wang Enmao’ organized by a minority minzu red guard, the alarmed Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai ordered the People’s Liberation Army to put an end to it.⁵⁵ In 1969, an article in the Xinjiang Daily complained about how the Chief of the South Xinjiang Administrative Office, Muhemmet’imin Iminov, allegedly stated that ‘if a textile factory is constructed in Kashgar, Kashgar will be occupied by Han-Chinese.’⁵⁶ Kashgar is the main metropolis of Uyghur-dominated South Xinjiang. In October 1981, a number of Muslim minority minzu separatist organisations reportedly caused an ‘armed turmoil’ outside Kashgar.⁵⁷ In July 2009, Uyghur protesters and Han-Chinese counter protesters formed bands and assaulted people belonging to the opposing minzu in the Xinjiang capital of Urumqi. Chinese authorities reported 197 dead and more than 1,000 wounded. In March 2014, violence spilled over to other parts of China, when a number of knife-wielding Uyghurs killed 31 people and injured 141 at Kunming Railway Station in Soutwest China.⁵⁸ Approximately one month later, CPC Secretary General Xi Jinping travelled to Xinjiang and called for an all-out struggle against ‘terrorism, infiltration, and separatism.’⁵⁹ After becoming the new Xinjiang Party Secretary in August 2016, Chen Quanguo implemented a number of policies to ensure that no further separatist or terrorist incidents would occur in the region. He vastly increased the armed police presence, as well as augmenting security surveillance of the local population.⁶⁰ Finally, he directed the establishment of facilities to detain and re-educate an estimated one-tenth of the Uyghur population in the region; these were individuals who were suspected of being vulnerable to the pollution of religious extremist thought.⁶¹ The policies of Chen Quanguo have been criticised by Uyghurs abroad and Western media and academia as being a poorly veiled attempt to root out dissent, and assimilate the Uyghur language, religion, and culture under the facade of anti-terrorism.⁶²

In terms of policy practice, the conflict between Xinjiang Muslims and Han-Chinese has not only affected Uyghurs but also the Chinese Muslim (Hui) population of the region. When local authorities across China began to demolish religious symbols in mosques, churches and other buildings in 2018 – including domes, crescent moons and stars, crosses, and so on – Chinese Muslim mosques were not exempt. Signs warning people about allowing minors to enter mosques adorn Chinese Muslim mosques in Xinjiang. Muslim prayers are strictly forbidden at schools and university campuses. Muslim students are encouraged to deny their religion when completing questionnaires. Possession of the Quran is a warning sign for at least some local security forces that someone may be polluted by religious extremist thought (this was personally witnessed by the author).

Chinese Muslims are also affected by discrimination from the Han-Chinese. During my fieldwork in the eastern metropolis of Hangzhou in 2013–2014, many Chinese Muslim migrants to the city complained about how Han-Chinese could not differentiate between them and Uyghurs. Han-Chinese would treat those they identified as Muslims with suspicion and fear regardless of minzu affiliation. In two of her articles, the editor-in-chief of the Kaidu River, Kou Yuying, complained about discrimination by Han-Chinese, particularly those from the eastern provinces. In 2012, when visiting Beijing in 1999, she and her fellow Chinese Muslim companions from XUAR were refused lodging at hotels in the capital. She complains that Han-Chinese in the eastern provinces treat ‘people from Xinjiang’ as if they were ‘dogs’ or second-rate citizens.⁶³ In a 2015 article on the role of literature in de-extremification, rather than joining the chorus of Party voices blaming extremism solely on thought pollution propagated by enemies of the people, Kou Yuying expresses concern about the ‘demonisation’ and ‘misreading and ignorance’ of Xinjiang by Han-Chinese.⁶⁴

Another aspect that has influenced the engagement of Yanqi Chinese Muslims in the production of local propaganda is the Sinicisation policies of the Chinese authorities. For decades, Chinese authorities have claimed to protect equality among minzu and their customs, as well as claiming to prevent discrimination against minority minzu. At the same time, they have emphasised the importance of identification with the predominantly Han-Chinese nation and its culture, regardless of minzu affiliation. In the April 2018 white paper ‘China’s Policies and Practices on Protecting Freedom of Religious Belief’, the State Council described the goal of its policies towards religion as ‘Sinicisation’. The State Council explicitly stated that religious leaders of China should ensure that religious dogmas and rules are compatible with the Han-Chinese dominated Chinese culture. In particular, the State Council emphasised the importance of value compatibility. Although the State Council employed the euphemism of the mutual adaptation of religion and Chinese society, the white paper only states what religion must do to adapt to Chinese society. In the English version of the text, mutual adaptation is simply translated as religions ‘adapting to the socialist society’, forgoing the euphemism. Because Islam is at the core of Hui identity in China,⁶⁵ I was not surprised to discover that the Sinicisation of Islam and Hui culture is a matter of concern to Hui contributors to the Kaidu River.

In the summer of 2010, Kou Yuying claimed that her engagement in the production of propaganda literature was motivated by the goal of preserving Hui culture. In 2010, the elderly Hui Su Xiaoquan passed away. Before his death, he warned that if Kou Yuying and other Hui writers did not endeavour to record and preserve Hui culture, it would incrementally diminish in each generation, ultimately becoming indistinguishable from Han-Chinese mainstream society.

Oh child [Kou Yuying], the extinction of a minzu is not determined by the number of its population. It is [determined by] the disappearance of its culture.

—— ‘Ali’ Su Xiaoquan⁶⁶

Islam is the main factor distinguishing the identities of Hui and Han-Chinese in China. By emphasising the religious divide, Hui religious leaders in China have, on various occasions, mobilised Chinese Muslims in solidarity against the defamation of their faith by Han-Chinese.⁶⁷ The Jahriyya author Ma Lijuan, another Hui contributor to the Kaidu River, warns against the tokenisation of Hui culture or Islam. Quoting Su Xiaoquan, Ma Lijuan (Juanzi, summer 2010) states that, if Hui do not unite, they will become like the native Americans. They will be penned in on ‘pitiful pieces of land.’⁶⁸ Although they may be allowed to perform tokenised religious practices, they will have no say in the politics of society. In contrast, if the Hui of China can unite based on their shared history, ideological convictions, and dedication to God, Su Xiaoquan and Ma Lijuan maintain that they can have a say, not only in the politics of China but also in world politics.⁶⁹

During his time as a representative at the Republican National Assembly of 1948, 24-year-old Su Xiaoquan fought passionately for the preservation of Chinese Muslim identity as distinct from Han-Chinese culture. According to Su Xiaoquan’s eulogy by local journalist Ji Changwei, he called for Jiang Jieshi (Chiang Kai-shek) to accept constitutional revision to change the phrase describing Chinese Muslims as ‘citizens with particular customs.’⁷⁰ He denounced the phrase as a return to the trickery of the Qing Dynasty (1644–1911). After being pressured by the Chinese Muslim Minister of Defence, Bai Chongxi, and other Republican leaders, Su Xiaoquan felt he had no choice but to withdraw his proposal.⁷¹

The call of Kou Yuying and her colleagues for preserving Hui culture as distinct from Han-Chinese culture is at odds with the national initiative to promote the Sinicisation of religious culture. Rather than promoting increased identification with mainstream Han-Chinese culture, Kou Yuying and her colleagues called for increased identification with Islam and Hui culture as distinct from Han-Chinese culture.

To resolve the contradiction between their actions on behalf of the propaganda apparatus and their own agenda, Hui contributors to the Kaidu River have emphasised the compatibility of Hui values and the values of mainstream society. They claim that suspicion towards Hui culture and Islam is unwarranted and that they have been misunderstood by Han-Chinese society. In fact, they claim that Hui culture and Islam inherently promote the same values as those cherished by mainstream society. They emphasise how Islam impels the Hui to make positive contributions to the country. They emphasise how Hui cherish true emotions as defined by the principle of the cosmos, whether these are manifested as amity among inter-minzu siblings, love for Mother China, or gratitude to the Party. They emphasise how Hui cherish true virtues, such as appreciation of the middle path, contentment with life, modesty, honesty, peacefulness, and tranquillity. Finally, they emphasise how Hui welcome guests – notably Han-Chinese visitors to Xinjiang – with warmth and kindness.

Emphasising contributions made by Hui for the rejuvenation of the country is a strategy that Hui contributors of the Kaidu River inherited from Chinese Muslim intellectuals of the Republican Period. In one article, former KMT Party Secretary Su Xiaoquan describes how the Chinese Muslim progenitors of the Lingu Mosque congregation of Yanqi Town made rafts to assist Qing Dynasty forces as they crossed the Kaidu River and defeated Central Asian invaders during the 19th century.⁷² In another article, Su Xiaoquan describes how the Chinese Muslim mills of Yanqi provided flour to the People’s Liberation Army in 1949.⁷³ In an article on Hui huar folk songs, Kou Yuying argues that the Hui of Yanqi have preserved their culture to the benefit of a multicultural environment that nurtures solidarity among minzu, prosperity and civilisation.⁷⁴

Emphasising how Hui cherish the same true emotions and values as those defined by the principle of the cosmos is a strategy that the Hui contributors of the Kaidu River inherited from Han-Kitab scholars of the Qing Dynasty. For example, Han-Kitab scholar Liu Zhi described the virtues cherished by Islam as the ‘Five Cardinal Norms’ which consist of the wife’s subservience to her husband, the son’s filial piety to his father, the minister’s loyalty to his ruler, the younger brother’s fraternal piety to his older brother, and the faithfulness of one friend to another. Liu Zhi’s Five Cardinal Norms mirrors the ‘Five Cardinal Relations’ of Confucianism, which similarly describes the obligations of the minister to the ruler, the son to the father, the wife to the husband, the younger brother to the older brother, and among friends. The only notable difference between them is their order.⁷⁵

Like their predecessors from the Qing Dynasty and the Republican Period, the contributors to the Kaidu River serve the propaganda goals of the Chinese state. Contributors not only argue that Chinese Muslim culture is inherently compatible with mainstream Han-Chinese culture but also argue that there is only one normative truth, which corresponds to that propagated by the Chinese state. According to contributors to the Kaidu River, any interpretation of Islam and Hui culture that deviates from this normative truth must therefore be erroneous.

In terms of true emotions, the contributors to the magazine emphasise the parallel between human emotions and the cosmic patterns of nature. Many articles produced by the contributors are concerned with true emotions in general. For example, in one article, the Jahriyya author Ma Lijuan celebrates true love as embodied by swans.⁷⁶ In other articles, contributors relate the truth of love as embodied by swans to the truth of emotions corresponding to the aims of the propaganda apparatus. Contributors write about true emotions among inter-minzu siblings, true love for the country, true gratitude to the Party, and hatred for those who deviate from truth. In these texts, the contributors also draw parallels between the cosmic patterns of nature and true human emotions. Hui CPC archivist Liu Yinggui (Shizhi, spring 2017), for example, writes in a poem that ‘the stars in the heavens are countless, yet the Party’s deeds of benevolence are more.’⁷⁷ Editor-in-chief Kou Yuying (spring 2010) writes that ‘Hui are a minzu that see the big picture, the larger ways of things. [They] are a minzu that love the country and submit to the administration of the government.’⁷⁸ The parallel between nature and true emotions is particularly transparent in the song Mother is China. This song was performed multiple times at the eleventh Yanqi Huar Festival of 2018. The festival was organised by the Yanqi CPC Propaganda Department and the Yanqi Culture, Sports, Radio and Television Bureau. The lyrics state that ‘the sun, stars, and moon of the cosmos are one family […]. [Similarly] the 56 minzu [are] an affectionate family […]. The red pomegranate’s seeds are tight together; none can be without the other; Mother is China!’ (personal observation). According to the lyrics, the minzu are the children of Mother China. This bond becomes obvious by observing parallels in nature. To deny obligations to the other minzu or to the country is therefore, according to the lyrics, as logically flawed and despicable as denying obligations to siblings or parents.

Negative emotions can also be compatible with truth. Hatred is acceptable if it is directed at those who deviate from truth as defined by the Chinese authorities, namely the enemies of the state. In the context of Xinjiang, an accepted target of hatred is the so-called ‘Three Forces’, specifically the separatists, religious extremists, and terrorists. For example, Liu Yinggui describes Su Xiaoquan as a man who ‘hated evil as his greatest enemy. [He] knew what to love and what to hate.’⁷⁹ The editor-in-chief Kou Yuying writes about how the editors of the Kaidu River have tried to use ‘a large amount of literary texts to promote […] morality culture […] [and to] guide the masses to recognise facts, revealing the true faces of the terrorist elements.’⁸⁰

In terms of true values, Hui contributors to the magazine emphasise that the Hui of Yanqi possess certain values that conveniently benefit the established order, and Han-Chinese migration to Xinjiang. They encourage Hui to be satisfied with their social and economic circumstances, to appreciate tranquillity, and to be kind to others – particularly guests – regardless of minzu affiliation. For example, Su Xiaoquan advices his readers that the art of contentment causes the spirit and mind to be filled with substance, happiness, relaxation, freedom, and purity.⁸¹ In Neo-Confucian terms, it is a method of self-cultivation useful for attaining unity with the cosmos. Ma Lijuan states that ‘softness’ is not weakness, but ‘tranquillity’ that accepts the ‘natural development’ of things with ‘docile warmness.’⁸² In a poem on Yanqi, Party archivist Liu Yinggui writes about how the Chinese Muslims welcome guests with tea and dishes prepared in the traditional Hui fashion of ‘Nine Bowls and Three Rows.’⁸³ Thus, the Hui contributors to the magazine emphasise that Hui culture endorses the same values as those of the mainstream or Han-Chinese dominated ‘Chinese’ culture.

Hui contributors also call upon their fellow Hui compatriots to endorse an interpretation of Hui culture and Islam that aligns with the values of Chinese culture as interpreted by national and regional Chinese authorities. As Party archivist Liu Yinggui noted in his eulogy to Su Xiaoquan:

He [Su Xiaoquan] suggested the employment of Islamic thought with a positive meaning for society […] using correct moral ideas to defy the filthiness of selfish desire, to wash the stains of disgusting phenomena from society, and to create a society in which public morals are established and in which citizens maintain good conscience. […]. The Mister [Su Xiaoquan] persistently advocated for employing in combination the essence of the way of Confucius and Mencius and the Islam doctrines of doing good […]. [They should] complement one another and standardise the speech and conduct of people.⁸⁴

As with Chinese Muslim intellectuals of the Qing Dynasty and the Republican Period, Hui contributors to the Kaidu River do not call for the wholesale assimilation of Hui culture and Islam into Han-Chinese culture. Rather, they insist on the integration of values endorsed by the state while maintaining a Hui identity distinct from Han-Chinese identity. They insist that Islam complements the values of mainstream Han-Chinese culture, and that the assimilation of the distinctive attributes of Hui culture would be detrimental to the preservation of these values.

Hui contributors to the Kaidu River praise a variety of Hui and Muslim customs that are contrary to the spirit of such Sinicisation policies as the demolition of religious symbols from mosques across China. For example, in the eulogy to his wife, Liu Yinggui praised her commitment to God during the fast of Ramadan. He expressed his gratitude for her guiding him onto the path of Islam. Finally, he committed to 49 days of mourning during which he intended to chant Quranic verses for her.⁸⁵ In an account of the Yanqi seamstress and entrepreneur Ma Lanmei, Kou Yuying describes how she made a suit for a boy’s circumcision ritual that made him look ‘exactly like an Arab Prince […] [in] the clothes most beloved by the Prophet’, and made people understand that ‘Hui [Chinese Muslim] infants are the most handsome and beautiful.’⁸⁶ In a historical account of the 1896 Jahriyya migration from Qinghai and Gansu to Xinjiang, Ma Lijuan describes how chanting from the Quran and repeatedly invoking ‘Allahu Akbar’ gave a group of rebelling Jahriyya Chinese Muslims strength to persevere in the face of suffering and death.⁸⁷ In an online eulogy not published in the Kaidu River, Ma Lijuan (Juanzi, 2013) is even more transparent in her praise of a distinct Hui and Jahriyya identity. In the article, she praises the ‘mystical’ teachings of the leader of Jahriyya Islam in South Xinjiang, Ma Hongwu. She writes about the communion with God on a spiritual, bodily, and emotional level. She speaks in positive terms about women covering their hair in the fashion of Islam. Finally, she writes admiringly about the funeral rites of Islam.⁸⁸

Bargaining for a distinct Hui identity

In the 1992 compendium Bureaucracy, Politics, and Decision Making in Post-Mao China, Lieberthal and Lampton proposed that the model of fragmented authoritarianism describes bureaucratic relationships and policy processes in China. Lieberthal relates the fragmentation of authoritarianism to the decentralisation of decision-making authority in China after the opening and reform of China in 1978. To ensure cooperation with policies, and their successful implementation, leaders in the capital sought to work with lower levels rather than merely dictating to them. Contributors to Lieberthal and Lampton’s compendium observed that, among administrative units of equal rank, such as between provinces and ministries, bargaining had become necessary to implement various projects. The refusal of certain administrative units to cooperate in the implementation of a project could effectively end it.⁸⁹

Lieberthal describes the bureaucratic relationships and policy processes both within and outside the bureaucratic system, horizontally and vertically. On paper, the Yanqi Literature and Arts Federation is a mass organisation and not a part of the Chinese bureaucracy. However, Vice-Chairperson of the Literature and Arts Federation, Kou Yuying, claims to follow the instructions of the Yanqi CPC Propaganda Department. According to Party organisational materials, the Yanqi CPC Propaganda Department has authority over all cultural matters in the Yanqi. The Literature and Arts Federation may therefore be considered part of the Chinese bureaucracy.

Formally, the relationship between the CPC and the bureaucracy – in this case the Yanqi Propaganda Department and the Yanqi Literature and Arts Federation – is vertical. Lieberthal describes vertical relationships within bureaucracy as characterised by pleading, persuasion, command, patron–client relations, and rule-guided behaviours. He maintains that bargaining only becomes necessary either when both parties are of equal rank within the bureaucracy or when one of the parties is not formally a part of the hierarchical structure of the bureaucracy.⁹⁰

As per the Lieberthal model, the relationship between the Yanqi CPC Propaganda Department and the Yanqi Literature and Arts Federation should be described as one constituted of pleading or persuasion. When Chinese Muslim contributors to the Kaidu River argued that the preservation and promotion of Chinese Muslim culture as distinct from Han-Chinese culture are beneficial to the goals of the national leadership in China and the assignments of the Yanqi CPC Propaganda Department, they do not bargain, but merely plead with or try to persuade their administrative superiors. According to a definition quoted by Lampton (1992), bargaining occurs only among leaders of equal ranking that need to accommodate one another to get things done.⁹¹

However, as observed by Hillman (2011) in a municipality of Southwest China, formally vertical relationships do not always correspond to the observed outcomes of decision-making processes. Hillman describes how some Party secretaries in Southwest China tended to become disengaged from their positions as local principals. He suggests that lack of interest in the nitty-gritty of township administration, lack of local networks, little hope of promotion, and linguistic barriers account for this lack of engagement. In effect, their administrative counterparts maintain decision making power.⁹² In October 2020, the Chinese media reported that the Party secretary of Chengdu University had committed suicide by throwing himself into the river. The Party secretary accused the university president of an abuse of power. Before his death, the Party secretary posted a statement on social media describing how he regretted letting the Party down by failing to assert his dominance over the president and rein in his alleged abuses.⁹³

The power relation between the Yanqi CPC Propaganda Department and the Literature and Arts Federation is not entirely vertical. As noted by Kou Yuying, Chinese Muslim intellectuals are respected among their own minzu.⁹⁴ By mobilising Chinese Muslim intellectuals in the production of propaganda, the Yanqi CPC Propaganda Department adds credibility to its propaganda. By virtue of their usefulness to the propaganda apparatus, Hui intellectuals have attained some leverage by which they can influence the content of this propaganda. As the agents becomes less than trivial to replace, the principal is encouraged to tolerate some deviation.

By serving the propaganda goals of China, Kou Yuying and her fellow Hui writers received access to a platform that can influence local state discourse. Their efforts have had at least some impact on the opinion of local Han-Chinese cadres on Hui culture and Islam. This fact is evidenced by the positive comments on Hui culture and Islam by Han-Chinese cadres contributing to the Kaidu River. It is also evidenced by the following statement of former Yanqi CPC Propaganda Department director Jiang Ying at the funeral of the Jahriyya leader Ma Hongwu:

When the aspiration to goodness and truth becomes an innate ability, it has become the force of religion. When a form of religion lauds the aspiration to goodness and truth, it has become a form of culture. If such a culture [Islam] can mutually adapt with [Han-Chinese] mainstream society, why should [we, the Han-Chinese] not be able to coexist [with them, the Chinese Muslims]?⁹⁵

The relationship between the Yanqi CPC Propaganda Department and the Literature and Arts Federation lends itself to what Shambaugh (2007) describes as probing.⁹⁶ In pursuit of their concerns and interests, the contributors to the Kaidu River have probed the limits of control and the permissible. The contours of such limits can be observed in how the Hui contributors to the magazine have changed their viewpoints on certain issues over the years. For example, in 2011, Kou Yuying (Xinyu, winter 2011) wrote in positive terms about Arab clothing culture.⁹⁷ However, one year after the president’s campaign against terrorism in 2014, however, Kou Yuying (summer 2015) criticised Arab clothing culture as having ‘absolutely nothing’ to do with Hui culture.⁹⁸ I suggest that because Hui contributors associated with the Literature and Arts Federation have leverage over the Propaganda Department, the Propaganda Department tolerates a certain degree of probing. Through a process of probing and feedback, the Propaganda Department and Chinese Muslim contributors bargain over the positioning of Chinese Muslims in local state discourse.

In a 2006 article, Robert Barnett criticised Western scholars and the media for their tendency to classify minority minzu cadres in China as either martyrs or collaborators. He noted that martyrdom, or open opposition to the established order, is only one among the different strategies that minority minzu cadres employ to pursue the interests of their minzu. Given the circumstances of Tibet, he argues, the ideal of martyrdom may have done more harm than good for the Tibetan people. Barnett suggests that cadres who conceal dissident opinions, invoke the truisms of state discourse, and even participate in the oppression of their own minzu may be able to do more for their minzu than a martyr could.⁹⁹

In terms of a scholarly analysis, Barnett’s has certain flaws. To explore his hypothesis, scholars would need access to the inner minds of minority minzu cadres. Without such access, if a cadre speaks the language of and carries out the policies of the state, any suggestion that the cadre disagrees with his or her own words and actions is speculative. Even if a cadre turns out to be relatively moderate in their policy implementation, this does not necessarily mean that they are opposed to the policy in question. As a result, Barnett’s conclusion, consisting of two short paragraphs, is replete with terms such as ‘likely’, ‘may’, ‘seem’, ‘apparently’, and ‘might.’¹⁰⁰

My article provides more substance to Barnett’s suggestion regarding strategies employed by collaborating minority minzu cadres to address the concerns and interests of their minzu. Rather than speculating on the secret intentions of minority minzu cadres, I have illustrated how Hui cadres in Xinjiang have employed a variety of strategies to situate Hui favourably within state discourse. I have also shown that these strategies are not unique to the Communist Period but have repeatedly been employed by Chinese Muslim intellectuals throughout the last five centuries of Chinese history.

Concluding remarks

In this paper, I have shown that, in a similar way to the Chinese Muslim intellectuals of the Qing Dynasty and the Republican Period, Hui contributors to the Kaidu River tried to safeguard and promote the political and religious interests of Hui in China. This effort had a twofold effect. On the one hand, they encouraged leading cadres within the local propaganda apparatus to tolerate the maintenance of a Hui identity distinct from Han-Chinese identity. On the other hand, they encouraged other Hui to interpret their religion and identity in terms that are favourable to the goals of the Chinese propaganda state.

Specifically, during the Qing Dynasty (1644–1911), Han-Kitab scholars such as Liu Zhi began to interpret Islam and Chinese Muslim values in terms of Neo-Confucian cosmology. Following the rise of nationalist ideology during the Republican Period, Chinese Muslim intellectuals started began to emphasise the positive contributions that Chinese Muslims made, or could make, to the Chinese nation. By emphasising the compatibility and similarities of Islam and state ideology, Han-Kitab scholars argued against the prosecution of Chinese Muslims during the Qing Dynasty. The opinions of Liu Zhi were accepted and praised by a number of high-ranking officials of the empire. By emphasising the contributions made by Chinese Muslims to the Chinese nation, Chinese Muslim intellectuals during the Republican Period (1911–1949) successfully passed regulations for Hui quota seats at the Republican National Assembly.

Hui contributors to the Kaidu River inherited the strategies employed by the Chinese Muslim intellectuals of the Qing Dynasty and the Republican Period. They argue that Hui values, emotions, and thoughts are aligned with Neo-Confucian normative truth. They interpret normative truth as being aligned with the aims of the Chinese propaganda authorities. They claim that Hui understand the way of things, are therefore are grateful to the Party, and that they appreciate law and order. They argue that Hui are patriots that have always endeavoured to protect the integrity of China’s territorial borders. They argue that Hui have supported the Communists rise to power. Finally, they argue that the acts, speech, and thought of Hui are more efficiently controlled through the dual bonds of Confucianism and Islam rather than through Confucianism alone.

I suggest that the interaction between Hui contributors to the Kaidu River and the local propaganda leadership can be described as a process of bargaining. By making themselves useful to the propaganda apparatus, the contributors to the magazine achieved a certain degree of leverage against the propaganda leadership. The Hui contributors, the most venerable of whom are already retired, had the choice of not contributing articles intended to benefit of the Chinese propaganda effort. By the virtue of this leverage, the Hui contributors were able to probe the limits of the permissible in the pursuit of the concerns and interests. Although the relationship between Hui contributors and the Propaganda Department may be described in terms of pleading or persuasion, these terms do not capture the fact that that Hui contributors also have leverage. As a result of decentralisation and delegation, I suggest that local propaganda production has become a field of contention in which the principal and agent bargain on behalf of national and local interests.

The space for self-assertion for Hui in the Kaidu River has been gradually narrowed down after the Uyghur violence of 2009 and particularly after the Kunming knife attacks of 2014. The assimilationist shift in the Hui literary field can be observed very specifically by how Arab influence on Hui culture changed from a word of praise to an abuse in the magazine. The discontinuation of the Kaidu River in 2017, echoes all too well Bellér-Hann and Steenberg’s observations of what Bellér-Hann calls the ‘final silencing’ of Uyghur authors this year,¹⁰¹ raising the question of what space, if any, remains for the assertion of Hui identity in post-2017 Xinjiang. This discontinuation suggests a breakdown of negotiations between Party-State and the literary elite among Hui, in which the Party-State is no longer willing to placate Hui interest in self-assertion in order to bolster its claims to truth.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Kim Jarle Wroldsen

Kim Jarle Wroldsen is a Ph.D. candidate in China studies at the Department of Asian, Middle Eastern and Turkish Studies at Stockholm University. He is interested in the study of Chinese society at large, with a particular interest in the historical, political, and social impact of ethnic identity in China. For his doctoral project, he investigated the participation of Muslim minorities in the production of state propaganda in Northwest China. Kim Jarle holds a parallel master’s degree in Chinese society and politics from the University of Oslo in Norway and Zhejiang University in China. He investigated patterns of interaction between migrant Muslims in East China and local Han-Chinese, as well as among Muslims from different parts of China.

Notes

1. Li, “The Investigate Research on Tatar Nationality,” 89.

2. State Council Information Office, “Full Text.’

3. Smith Finley, The Art of Symbolic Resistance; and Bovingdon, The Uyghurs.

4. Rudelson and Leibold, “Acculturation and Resistance.”

5. Zenz, ‘Thoroughly Reforming Them Towards a Healthy Heart Attitude.”

6. These observations can easily be made by scrolling through the massive amount of articles published on the various WeChat channels of Xinjiang and Yanqi government organs in the period.

7. Shambaugh, “China’s Propaganda System,” 27.

8. Lampton, “A Plum for a Peach.”

9. Shambaugh, “China’s Propaganda System.”

10. Bellér-Hann, “From Voice to Silence.”

11. Steenberg, ‘Uyghur Customs.’

12. For example, Smith Finley, The Art of Symbolic Resistance, 40–42.

13. Glasserman, “Making Muslims Hui,” 54–58; Erie, China and Islam, 194; and Gonul and Rogenhofer, “Wahhabism with Chinese Characteristics,” 13–14.

14. My usage of the emic term “Han (Chinese) language” (Hanyu) rather than the more standard English terms “Chinese language” or ‘Mandarin’ is intentional, to avoid concealing the Han-centric implications of the term in the process of translation.

15. Gonul and Rogenhofer, “Wahhabism with Chinese Characteristics,” 13–14.

16. Rudelson, Oasis Identities.

17. Bovingdon, The Uyghurs.

18. Brophy, Uyghur Nation.

19. Schoenhals, Doing Things with Words, 15–16.

20. Ma, “Yisilanjiao de Zhongguohua.”

21. Lipman, “Editor’s Introduction,” 4.

22. Alimu, “Rujia, Rujiao dui Zhongguo Yisilanjiao de Yingxiang,” 133.

23. Yang, “Tiandao yu Rendao,” 93.

24. Ma, “Yisilanjiao de Zhongguohua,” 59.

25. Ibid.

26. Ibid.

27. Wang, Lecture on Hui History and Culture, 136; and Qing, “The Making of Sino Muslim Identity.”

28. Esposito, The Oxford History of Islam, 458.

29. Zhang, “Xinlingshi,” 74.

30. Dikötter, The Discourse of Race in Modern China, 117.

31. Ibid., 118.

32. Mullaney, Coming to Terms with the Nation, 24.

33. Dikötter, The Discourse of Race in Modern China, 124.

34. Mullaney, Coming to Terms with the Nation, 25.

35. Ibid.

36. Sun, “Sanmin Zhuyi,” 188.

37. Ibid., 26.

38. Ibid., 27–28.

39. Ibid., 28.

40. Mao, “A Muslim Vision for the Chinese Nation,” 377.

41. Ibid.

42. Ibid., 381.

43. Ibid.

44. Chen, “Jindai Huizi Zhengzhi Yishi yu Guojia Rentong,” 126.

45. Ibid.

46. Alimu, “Rujia, Rujiao dui Zhongguo Yisilanjiao de Yingxiang,” 127.

47. Ibid.

48. Gladney, Muslim Chinese.

49. See note 9 above.

50. For example, Erie, China and Islam, 315–316, 325–333, 337.

51. See note 9 above

52. Mullaney, Coming to Terms with the Nation, 27.

53. Bellér-Hann, “From Voice to Silence”; and Gonul and Rogenhofer, “Wahhabism with Chinese Characteristics,” 13–14.

54. Wang, “Nanjiang Dangqian Gongzuo Fangzhen he Renwu,” 48.

55. Chen, Biography of Wang Enmao, 492.

56. Xinjiang Daily Editorial Department, “Chedi Qingsuan Liu Shaoqi zai Xinjiang de Dailiren,” 76.

57. Chen, Biography of Wang Enmao, 546–547.

58. Chen, “Three Given Death Penalty Over Kunming Rail Station Attack.”

59. Ramzy and Buckley, “Absolutely No Mercy.”

60. Zenz and Leibold, “Chen Quanguo.”

61. Zenz, “Thoroughly Reforming Them Towards a Healthy Heart Attitude.”

62. For example, Lipes, “Xinjiang “Re-Education Camps” Target Cultural, Religious Identity of Uyghurs.”

63. Kou, “Luyuan zhi Xing Manji,” 23.

64. Kou, “Yong Wenxue de Zhen Liliang “Qu-Jiduanhua” Jincheng,” 15.

65. Gladney, Muslim Chinese; and Pillsbury, “Muslim History in China.”

66. Kou, “Yongyuan de Huainian,” 26.

67. For example, Erie, China and Islam, 331–332.

68. Juanzi, “Boxue Duoshi de Sulao Xiansheng,” 19. Juanzi is the pen name of Ma Lijuan.

69. Ibid., 19.

70. Ji, “Zhuisi, Mianhuai,” 16.

71. Ibid.

72. Su, “Yanqi Huizu Zizhixian Lingu Si Jianshi.”

73. Su, “Yanqi de Nianfang Xiangzi he Mofang Xiangzi.”

74. Kou, “Yanqi zhi Hua.”

75. Min, “Rujia “Wulun” Sixiang he Liu Zhi “Wudian” Sixiang zhi Bijiao.”

76. Juanzi, “Yu Tian’e Duishi.”

77. Shizhi, “Yanqi: Wo de Jiaxiang,” 43. Shizhi is the pen name of Liu Yinggui.

78. Kou, “Kaidu He Zishu,” 11.

79. Shizhi, “Diaonian Su Xiaoquan Xiansheng,” 23.

80. Kou, “Yong Wenxue de Zhen Liliang,” 17.

81. Su, “Zhizu shi Yi Zhong Jingjie.”

82. See note 76 above.

83. Shizhi, “Huixiang Qing.”

84. Shizhi, “Diaonian Su Xiaoquan Xiansheng,” 22.

85. Shizhi, “Rang Ai Dedao Yongheng.”

86. Xinyu, “Yi Gen Xiuhuazhen Xiuchu Dashijie,” 20. Xinyu is the pen name of Kou Yuying.

87. Juanzi, “Beizhuan de Hehuang Qiyi.”

88. Juanzi, “Wo, Shi Nage wei Ni Dianxiang de Nüzi.”

89. Lieberthal, ”Bureaucracy, Politics, and Decision Making in Post-Mao China.”

90. Ibid.

91. Lampton, “A Plum for a Peach,” 37.

92. Hillman, “Patronage and Power,” 46,

93. “Chengdu Daxue Dangwei Shuji Mao Hongtao.”

94. Kou, “Yong Wenxue de Zhen Liliang.”

95. Eulogy attached to Juanzi, “Wo, Shi Nage wei Ni Dianxiang de Nüzi.”

96. See note 9 above.

97. Xinyu, “Yi Gen Xiuhuazhen Xiuchu Dashijie.”

98. Kou Yuying, “Yong Wenxue de Zhen Liliang.”

99. Barnett, “Beyond the Collaborator-Martyr Model.”

100. Ibid.

101. Bellér-Hann, “From Voice to Silence”; and Steenberg “Uyghur Customs.”