"Separate But Loyal" Or Second-Class Citizens? Timothy Grose's Negotiating Inseparability in China: The Xinjiang Class and the Dynamics of Uyghur
In 2015, the film A Place Where the Dream Begins (translated) was released in China to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region’s (XUAR) official designation as an “autonomous region” in 1955, rather than a province. Showcasing the majestic beauty of the mountains and deserts of Xinjiang (located in China’s northwest, comprising 1/6th of China’s total territory), the film is a dramatization of the lives of Uyghur teenagers that apply for and are accepted into the prestigious “Xinjiang Class” (or, the “Inland Xinjiang Senior Secondary School Classes”), a highly selective high school boarding school program for outstanding minority youth from XUAR. The Xinjiang Class enables families (mainly Uyghur) to send their children to boarding schools in central and eastern China, or neidi (inner China), at very affordable rates. Having undergone an intensely rigorous application process, the students rejoice along with their families upon receiving their acceptance letters.
The film’s protagonist, a young Uyghur high schooler named Aygül, studies in a Xinjiang Class in Shanghai, all while overcoming a serious eye disorder that she keeps secret from her fellow students. After graduating from high school and the passing of several years, Aygül returns to Shanghai to reunite with her Xinjiang Class schoolmates and teachers:
During the reunion her beloved Han teacher arrives in a wheelchair. Debilitated by a stroke and unable to speak, the teacher prepared a letter for Aygül. In it, the teacher bequeaths her corneas to the young Uyghur woman. The political allegory is rather obvious: under the guidance of the party and Han people, Uyghurs too will someday have the correct worldview. (p. 28)
Those are the words of Timothy Grose in his excellent new book, Negotiating Inseparability in China: The Xinjiang Class and the Dynamics of Uyghur Identity (2020). In it, Grose aims to understand how “young Uyghurs conceive, demarcate, and express their collective identities”, both while enrolled in the Xinjiang Class and after graduation. Examining the lives of these young, talented Uyghurs (who make up about 70 percent of Xinjiang Class enrollment), Grose asks: Is it possible for Uyghurs, as one of the People’s Republic of China’s (PRC) fifty-six minzu (officially-recognized ethnic groups), to be “separate but loyal” to their identity as Chinese citizens, or “are Uyghur and Chinese identities mutually exclusive?” The book, a deeply rich exploration of the “multilayered identities” (p. 5) of these young Uyghurs, comes at a time when questions of Uyghur ethnic identity are front-and-central, both in the international news and for policymakers. Such questions, which previously have been concerned with the preservation of Uyghur culture and language, have now become questions of survival.
In this review, I’ll highlight a few of the key themes of Negotiating Inseparability in China, including: (1) The extent to which the Uyghur experience within the Xinjiang Class is reflective of the broader experience of Uyghurs in the modern PRC; (2) The persistent folly of state-led social engineering efforts into complex and emergent social systems (e.g. religion, culture, identity), and the unintended consequences that emerge from such action; and (3) The effects of the Xinjiang Class experience on the possibility sets of its young Uyghur participants.
Grose’s book provides a rare window into the everyday lives of young, highly talented Uyghurs in modern China, particularly those whom the Chinese Communist Party has pinned their hopes on to become a “new force” of both technical skill and pro-CCP influence back in XUAR through their Xinjiang Class experience. Grose exhibits a deep understanding of the CCP’s (often feckless) attempts at engaging in the social engineering project that is the Xinjiang Class, through which CCP seeks to “…instill Chinese patriotism, feelings of minzu unity, and the values of the CCP in young Uyghurs” (p. 49). After describing the institutional hallmarks of the Xinjiang Class (Chapter 1), Grose describes what he identifies as “an ethno-national identity that is sometimes in contradistinction to a corporate Chinese identity” (Chapter 2). The final two chapters focus upon the propensity for Xinjiang Class graduates, contrary to the political aims of the CCP, to seek opportunities abroad or remain in neidi, rather than return to Xinjiang (Chapter 3), and furthermore, for those that do return to Xinjiang, why very few of the graduates return with the intention of serving the party or their country (Chapter 4).
Grose’s book is the product of extensive field research and interviews done over the course of nine separate research trips (spanning in total over thirty months) conducted in Beijing and several parts of Xinjiang between 2006 and 2017 (p. 14). Grose spoke with over sixty Uyghur graduates of the Xinjiang Class (from twelve different cities that hosted a Xinjiang Class), with the intention that regular interactions would shed light upon, “…their ethno-national identities, their personal commitments to Islam, and their abilities to navigate between two seemingly distinct sets of cultural practices—Uyghur and Han” (p. 14). To protect the safety and anonymity of informants, Grose only recorded handwritten notes of interviews in a journal that he kept on his person all times.
For quite some time now, Xinjiang-related research (particularly by scholars from outside China) has been highly sensitive by nature, and as such produces immediate pause on the part of potential Chinese co-authors and suspicion on the part of the local officials. Most likely, such research is halted before it even begins. Grose notes that, upon sharing his research intentions to an official at the Minzu University of China (MUC), the official lectured him for thirty minutes about the “troubles” researching in Xinjiang could bring, not only himself, but for the university as well. Notably, the official urged Grose to examine the minority minzu of China’s Yunnan province, as they are a more “harmonious” group relative to the Uyghurs (p. 14). Notably, Yunnan has virtually zero Uyghur representation.
I vividly recall the reaction of a Han Chinese colleague a few years ago when I shared the news that I was traveling for 6 weeks to Xinjiang. Their countenance immediately changed, as they offered the following half-statement/half-rebuke, “You must be careful. That is a dangerous area.” Of course, this sort of stereotype is not held by all Han people in China (who make up over 90 percent of China’s population), but there’s reason to believe such thinking is prevalent. A recent study from researchers in China found that when Han college students were primed with negative media information about the Uyghurs, their negative stereotypes towards the Uyghurs were activated. This was particularly so when participants had very little or no direct contact with Uyghurs, indicating their perceptions were formed mainly through indirect contact through biased state media sources. Americans may find an uncomfortable mirror in these foreign race relations.
Such stereotypes held by Han people include that Uyghur cultural and religious practices are “backward” (pp. 32-33, 74), as well as viewing Uyghur individuals with a mix of curiosity, fear and suspicion. One female Xinjiang Class graduate shared that local Han students asked her “… if [she] lived on a mountain…”, and that “…many Han students thought [Uyghurs] were all pickpockets” (p. 43). Another Uyghur student reported being asked condescending questions, including: “Had she even watched television? Are floors in Xinjiang made out of concrete? Did she and her family share a living space with farm animals?” (Grose, p. 42) When a few skirmishes arose between Uyghur and Han students on a Xinjiang Class campus, two informants described to Grose that “…Nur Bekri [the former Chairman of the XUAR] visited our school to help mediate. He tried to tell us the only difference between Uyghur and Han is the food we eat…”, which upon retelling, caused the informants laughed out loud. Another Xinjiang Class graduate told Grose, “Imagine two cups placed side by side with the edges touching. The two cups represent Han and Uyghur people. The point where the two cups meet represents common ground between the two” (p. 59).
Likewise, Xinjiang Class graduates reported to Grose various stereotypes they had for their Han counterparts, particularly that Han people are, among other things: “killjoys” (p. 53), “dirty” and unhygienic compared to Uyghur standards of cleanliness (p. 55), and blindly compliant with “stupid” rules without questioning their validity (p. 44). Since the classrooms, cafeterias, and dormitories of most Xinjiang Classes are separated from local Han students, Grose’s informants reported that the few encounters they had with Han students were often “marred with misunderstanding”. Given the Xinjiang Classes’ goal of strengthening minzu unity, the separation of Han and Uyghur students appears rather counterproductive, with Grose referring to this arrangement as “Segregated (dis)unity”. A few informants stated they “…could not remember meeting, let alone befriending, their Han schoolmates” (p. 42).
Negative sentiments held by Han people towards Uyghurs have very likely been bolstered by the CCP’s “Strike Hard” campaigns in Xinjiang, initiated after a string of violent events in the 1990s and 2000s in the region, aimed at eradicating the so-called “three-evil forces”, including “terrorism”, “separatism”, and [religious] “extremism” through increased regulation and surveillance of the day-to-day activities of Uyghurs (p. 80). Such measures were only intensified after the 2009 Ürümchi protests and riots, as Uyghur party members, state employees, and students were forbidden from fasting during Ramadan and subjected to enhanced mosque surveillance (forcing Uyghurs to scan identification cards before entry). Likewise, a ban was enacted in public spaces pertaining to the “five types of people… those adorned with full veils, jilbab, hijab, crescent-moon-and-star clothing, and abnormally long beards” (p. 80).
In light of these new national priorities, ideological and political education were moved to the “forefront” of Xinjiang Class education in 2005, the goal being for students to “skim the cream and remove the dregs” of their minzu culture in the process of “[engineering] a ‘modern ethnic’ individual who is both ‘civilized and courteous’” (Grose, pp. 28-29). It’s worth noting that negative stereotypes towards the Uyghurs may not have been so strong in generations past. As one Han individual recently wrote of growing up in Xinjiang with Uyghur friends, “We shared the same bag of snacks, drank from the same bottle of water. When I was growing up in Xinjiang, it didn’t matter that I was Han and they were not. But that Xinjiang has all but disappeared.”
(1) One of the themes that appears most often in Grose’s treatment is the extent to which the specific subject matter of the book (the Uyghur experience within the Xinjiang Class) parallels the broader experience of Uyghurs within the modern PRC. This especially comes through with analysis of the CCP’s “carrot-and-stick” approach to governance in its ethnic borderlands. Citing the work of James Leibold (2015) on this, Grose points out that programs and opportunities like the Xinjiang Class “…[provide] an additional incentive for Uyghur families to comply with controversial policies in Xinjiang” (p. 22).
Examples of this approach with respect to the Xinjiang Class are abundant. Uyghur students can compete in a competition where they write and deliver a speech in Putonghua (i.e. Standard Mandarin, the national language) about their love for their Chinese identity (Zhonghua minzu), with top performers earning bonus points towards their Xinjiang Class entrance exams (p. 21). Such incentives span well beyond the prospective student, as the immediate and extended families of students must be vigilant in their law abidingness. Applicant families’ “…political dossiers [must be] blemish-free”, and “[f]amilies in violation of the law put their children at risk of being left out of the program” (pp. 18-22).
The carrot-and-stick approach is foundational to the operation of the Xinjiang Class program in many respects, but especially regarding tuition. Several of Grose’s informants said that the low costs of the Xinjiang class ultimately swayed their parents to send them to neidi, with one graduate noting, “…Officials told my parents that they wouldn’t have to worry about their own futures if they sent my siblings and me to study in neidi… Under pressure from my father, I agreed to attend the Xinjiang Class, a decision that pleased my parents…” (p. 24).
Despite the relatively elite status of Xinjiang Class students, the heavy-handed unilateral rule of the CCP permeates the daily lives of these students in some ways that are similar to the average Uyghur in Xinjiang. Upon arrival, Xinjiang Class students have their names “Hanified” (i.e., Memet became Maimaiti; Gülzar became Gulizha’er), thereby “[dissociating them from their Central Asian and Islamic roots…” (p. 34). Likewise, “overtly Islamic” names are outlawed in Xinjiang. Similarly, female students are forbidden from veiling in the Xinjiang Class. When one informant insisted on covering her head, pleading “we are Muslim”, the teacher responded, “No, right now you are not Muslims; you are only students” (p. 34). Likewise for young Uyghur men in the Xinjiang Class, shaking hands and saying, “essalamu eleykum” (peace be with you), which is customary among Uyghur men, is banned (p. 34).
The Xinjiang Class student handbook states, “engaging in feudalistic superstitious activities” is grounds for immediate expulsion, along with activities including, but not limited to, “any form of separatist activity or illegal religious activity” (p. 35). In Xinjiang today, paramilitary patrols and armored vehicles “…parade through Xinjiang’s major oasis cities in daily spectacles of strength”, in their quest to snuff out “terrorism”, “separatism”, and “extremism” (p. 112). Perhaps unsurprisingly, a number of Xinjiang Class graduates referred to their experience as akin to being in a prison, with a few graduates quipping of their particular campus, “If the Xinjiang Class is like prison, then the Hangzhou Xinjiang Class is like Guantanamo Bay” (p. 39).
The two most important feasts celebrated by Muslims worldwide are Eid al-Fitr (Uyghur: Roza héyt) and Eid al-Adha (Uyghur: Qurban héyt), and while Xinjiang Class students are officially guaranteed the right to celebrate minzu holidays, these events are generally reduced to consisting only of song-and-dance performances, thereby minimizing the celebration of Islamic culture. Grose puts it this way:
By allowing Uyghur students to observe certain Muslim holidays in a Han dominated environment, the CCP can publicly display its commitment to multiculturalism. We should not, however, misinterpret these compromises as avenues—consciously paved by the CCP—for young Uyghurs to engender an identity grounded in Islamic ethics and cultural norms… The party routinely selects certain elements of a minzu’s culture and institutionalizes them as a “package of [traditional] ‘customs and habits’”… Expressing [Uyghur minzu] identity—even through the Uyghur language—is sanctioned as long as it remains confined to song, dance, state-recognized minzu holidays, and other performances. (p. 48)
In light of these restrictions, as well as the carrot-and-stick style governance, Grose makes apparent the difficult tradeoff for Uyghurs in families in Xinjiang with high-achieving students. That is, despite Xinjiang Classes being located thousands of miles from home (Kashgar to Shanghai is roughly equivalent in distance apart as Los Angeles to Washington, DC), CCP officials and teachers “[seeking] to sever students’ intimate ties to their families and friends as well as Xinjiang itself”, restricted (and tightly monitored) contact between students and parents, and long, monotonous highly structured days in the boarding school (beginning at 6:30 AM and ending at 10:00 PM), the Xinjiang Class experience represents (by virtue of revealed preference) the best available choice for many Uyghur families, given their constraints under CCP rule.
At least at the time of the Grose’s writing, the Xinjiang Class remains in high demand among minzu families (pp. 30-31, 37-39). Counterintuitively, “…sending children to boarding schools several thousand miles away in neidi is often more affordable than sending children to local schools” (p. 25). This is largely due to expenses and fees associated with local public education (not to mention the largely-subsidized, expenses-covered Xinjiang Class experience), but also because of the relative differences in perceived quality of education and access to resources. A few informants pointed out “[XUAR’s] inadequately equipped schools and poorly trained teachers” (p. 25). Accordingly, Xinjiang Class enrollment grew from 1,000 to over 9,000 students over the time period of 2000-2014, with 43,000 students having applied for 9,880 openings in 2017 (p. 20). Notably, this trend is occurring despite a lengthy (upwards of six months) and highly invasive application process (requiring extensive political and religious background checks).
That Uyghur families have been applying in droves for admission for their children into the Xinjiang Class, if anything, speaks to the relatively scant degree of opportunity presented to talented Uyghur students at home in Xinjiang. In this regard, the Xinjiang Class provides an educational opportunity for upwardly-mobile young Uyghurs that increases their possibility set well-beyond what would’ve been available to them had they not left Xinjiang for neidi. Grose reports that over 90 percent of Xinjiang Class students attend a four-year university or technical school in neidi (pp. 51-52). Unlike the 19th and early 20th century boarding schools for indigenous children in North America and Australia (which involved forcibly removing children from their homes), Grose makes the point that Xinjiang Class application and enrollment remains fundamentally a voluntary institution (p. 20).
(2) Another great strength of Grose’s treatment is the extent to which he speaks to the folly involved in broad scale social engineering efforts into complex and emergent social systems (including religion, culture, and identity), and the unintended consequences that arise from such efforts. That is, if among CCP’s key goals for the Xinjiang Class are to “deepen mutual understanding” between the two groups and, in general, “strengthen minzu unity”, Grose’s research suggests these goals are not close to being met, as camaraderie between Han and Uyghurs has hardly improved, and very likely has worsened in recent years (pp. 51-52). Instead, as Grose argues, by way of (often impromptu) displays of their ethnic and religious identities in ways that are forbidden by their schools (pp. 51-52), “Xinjiang Class students, similar to their peers in the XUAR, construct their ethno-national identity by defining who they are not… an essential component of their Uyghur ethno-national identity is the (at least temporary) rejection of ‘Han-ness’…” (p. 45).
That is, rather than promoting a heightened Zhonghua minzu in these young Uyghurs, Grose argues, “Xinjiang Class policies appear to heighten Uyghur students’ ethno-national identities and put them distinctly at odds with Han people” (p. 52). While the CCP aims to eliminate cultural and religious differences, Xinjiang Class students place, if anything, place heightened emphasis upon cultural and religious bonds, especially at the transnational level in such a setting in neidi. Grose writes that, “…many Xinjiang Class graduates seek to deepen their knowledge of Islam after leaving the boarding school . . . [as] graduates of the program use the relatively relaxed political climates of neidi’s large cities to cultivate personal piety and connect with other Muslims” (p. 62).
Counterintuitively, Grose points out that young Uyghurs living in neidi (away from the influence of parents and local communities) became more interested in their religious identities than they perhaps otherwise would have been. Here, Xinjiang Class students were able to engage in Islamic activity at relatively lower cost than they could have otherwise back home in the intensely surveilled XUAR. Such activities included attending prayers at mosque without risking serious repercussions, perusing a less-regulated internet to connect with Islamic websites operated outside China, and a higher likelihood (in neidi) of meeting foreign Muslim residents in China (p. 62). Still others took up the opportunity to participate during the weekend in free Arabic classes offered at a Beijing university, and a few female informants pointed out that their cultural ties with Arabic-speaking Muslims were strengthened by discovering many Arabic loan words in their native language (p. 65).
These accounts, and many more, offered by Grose all point to the idea that, as a matter of unintended consequence, the CCP’s forbidding of Islamic activities within Xinjiang Classes, “…produced a yearning to know more about Islam and to seek membership in a transnational Muslim community” over against a “sinicized Islam” (pp. 62-63). Through simple observances such as the recitation of a post-meal prayer (du’a), Xinjiang Class students were able to, in the company of other Uyghurs, reaffirm their shared ethno-religious identities, as well as “reinforce ethnic boundaries” (pp. 68-69).
(3) While the Xinjiang Class itself expands the possibility set for its participants, it’s critical to point out that these young Uyghurs endogenously expand their possibility set well beyond what the CCP intends. The CCP has clear aims for Xinjiang Class graduates, that through the development of their Chinese identities and the inculcation of CCP values while in neidi, graduates upon their returns to Xinjiang “…will sense a call of duty to propagate Chinese culture…” and CCP values (pp. 74-75). A problem for the CCP with this sequence is that a large percentage of Xinjiang Class graduates complete their studies and do not return to Xinjiang. Grose points out, “…Xinjiang Class graduates rarely choose Xinjiang when they are provided an alternative. In fact, one rarely published statistic indicates that nearly 50 percent of the program’s graduates do not return…”, and pertaining to his sample of sixty graduates, “…if given a choice, three-fifths of my informants pursued opportunities outside the region” (pp. 75-76).
By choosing to pursue opportunities both in neidi and abroad, “[Xinjiang Class graduates] reject the status quo in Xinjiang where Uyghurs are routinely treated as ‘second-class citizens’” (p. 88). As Grose puts it, “Paradoxically, mobility within China and the chance to travel overseas is largely contingent upon temporarily subscribing to the Zhonghua minzu (Chinese identity) through participating and excelling in state schools” (p. 73). Stated alternatively, Xinjiang Class graduates “…activated their Chineseness when it was advantageous to do so” (p. 115), in some sense “going through the motions” to open up possibilities for themselves not otherwise available. Uyghur families sensibly realized the opportunity afforded to them did not actually require as an exchange the transformation of their children into CCP apparatchiks; on the contrary, Xinjiang Class graduates utilize CCP resources to increasingly seek out membership in transnational communities, “…stretching the boundaries of Uyghurness to overlap with global Muslim and Turkic identities, a strategy also employed by Uyghur elite in diaspora” (p. 113).
Much of the richness of Grose’s book comes through his interviews with informants, who demonstrated how they creatively lived in tension within the strict Xinjiang Class rules, thereby strategically and “…selectively [embracing] elements of their Chinese identity…” to achieve their goals and expand their possibility sets (p. 51). As Grose describes, this often took the form of a spirit of “everyday resistance” (p. 71), ranging from subtle acts like speaking Uyghur to one another in private (Xinjiang Class students are mandated to only speak Putonghua) (p. 57), offering post-meal prayers (p. 51), and phoning home without permission (p. 32), to more defiant acts such as writing “Happy Qurban Feast” in large Uyghur lettering on a classroom blackboard the day before the Eid al-Adha holiday (p. 41) and visiting the Saudi Arabian embassy in Beijing to acquire a Uyghur-language Qur’an (pp. 62-63). Thus, while many of Grose’s Xinjiang Class informants found the sharpening of their Chinese language skills to be instrumental to their future success, these same graduates also “found great joy in subverting the program’s language policy” by finding spaces and times to speak to one another in their mother tongue (p. 41), as well as the active “…rejection of Han cultural norms” (p. 43).
Of the reasons that Grose’s informants were reluctant (or refused) to return to Xinjiang, a few commonalities emerged, including a refusal to “…be treated as a second-class citizen in my homeland” (pp. 77-81), and the general sense that “there are no suitable jobs for me in Xinjiang” (pp. 81-85). The former pertains to the sentiment that life in neidi is much more free than life in Xinjiang. Of restrictions such as beard lengths and who can attend mosque, one informant stated, “I didn’t notice [these forms of restrictions] until I had lived in Beijing for a couple of years, and would return home…” (p. 79). Of the latter, some informants expressed their belief that their degree would be “wasted” in Xinjiang, having to settle for working for local government or as high school teachers. Connected to this is the trend of XUAR’s higher paying jobs being given disproportionately to Han people, who now represent over 40 percent of Xinjiang’s residents (p. 23). As Grose put it, “[Xinjiang Class graduates] struggle because they are overqualified for types of jobs available to them in Xinjiang; yet…they are grossly underpaid in cities like Beijing and Shanghai to live comfortable lives” (p. 85). Indeed, despite being highly qualified, a number of Xinjiang Class graduates struggled to secure meaningful employment, both in neidi and back home in Xinjiang (p. 115).
To be clear, a number of informants “firmly cling” to the belief that pursuing education abroad is the best way to help the Uyghur community in the long term (p. 87), and importantly, some Xinjiang Class graduates living abroad, “…become indefatigable advocates of Uyghur human rights… [raising] political awareness of the reported injustices occurring in Xinjiang” (p. 88). This has become increasingly important, as the situation in Xinjiang since 2016 has become more dire than ever, as the CCP has detained upwards of 1.5 million Uyghurs in “concentration reeducation centers” in Xinjiang (p. 112), in what researcher Adrian Zenz refers to as “…probably the largest incarceration of an ethnoreligious minority since the Holocaust.” Of this, Grose writes, “As the trial and imprisonment of the Uyghur scholar Ilham Tohti has shown… the CCP is intent on intimidating and silencing even moderate oppositional voices. Engaging in political activism and demanding change in Xinjiang is perilous for Uyghurs” (p. 88). The costs of opposition, already high in decades past, have clearly risen. As Grose describes it, “The state’s message is explicit: all forms of resistance—however peaceful—will be quashed” (p. 112).
Timothy Grose’s excellent treatment resonated very deeply with me, particularly so in one of the book’s final passages, which describes the dangers confronted by Uyghurs today in the face of intense state surveillance and “concentration reeducation” centers:
Xinjiang Class graduates have not been spared. As I have during each visit to the region, I attempted to reconnect with my informants during my July 2017 trip to Xinjiang. By that time, most of my Uyghur friends had deleted me from their social networking apps for fear that their association with a foreigner would invite trouble. However, Rashid—the outspoken critic of the party and recently-turned-pious young man—risked his safety to meet with me. He confirmed the horror stories of mass disappearances. (p. 116)
As one who’s been unable to communicate with friends made in Xinjiang a few years ago, I’m left to worry about their safety and well-being as the communication lines have gone dry. When I returned from Xinjiang, very few people in the United States knew of the Uyghurs’ situation in the PRC, let alone even heard of this ethnic group. By virtue of the mass internment of Uyghurs in political reeducation camps since 2017 initiated by XUAR Secretary Chen Quanguo, many more people, both in the United States and around the world, are acquainted with knowledge of the Uyghurs’ plight, albeit due to the increasingly horrible circumstances confronting them in their homeland.
For researchers interested in the Uyghurs, Grose’s book brings to bear extensive original research, which, although is primarily focused upon a niche subject (the Xinjiang Class), has a great deal of external validity for thinking about issues affecting Uyghurs in general. Grose shows that young Uyghurs are not a monolith with respect to their attitudes towards their ethnic, religious, and cultural identities, in addition to how they selectively employ those identities based upon the situations they find themselves in. Grose’s book, while demonstrating tremendous depth and background knowledge, is likewise not inaccessible for the layperson eager to learn about modern Xinjiang. This is particularly so through the Grose’s usage of informant interviews, which are highly engaging and themselves great entry points for further study.
Featured Image is School Uniforms in China, by Anna Frodesiak
