За мной придут ночью: Уйгурский поэт о геноциде в современном Китае

by Tahir Hamut Izgil, Тахир Хамут Изгил

Что чувствует человек, который каждую ночь ожидает ареста? Привыкнуть к жизни в страхе невозможно, но становится только хуже, когда один за другим начинают исчезать друзья и знакомые... Многолетний интерес к политике и деятельность по защите прав уйгуров — тюркоязычного народа, живущего в Синьцзян-Уйгурском автономном районе Китая, — привели поэта Тахира Хамута к тюремному заключению, пыткам и вынужденной эмиграции в США. В своих воспоминаниях он описывает атмосферу репрессий и систематической дискриминации, царящую в Синьцзяне, где десятки тысяч человек подвергаются преследованиям и оказываются в «лагерях идеологического перевоспитания». Его книга не только личная история, но и живое свидетельство одного из самых острых гуманитарных кризисов в современном мире.

Genres: Nonfiction, Memoir, China, History, Politics, Biography, Biography Memoir

240 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2023

About the author

Tahir Hamut was born in 1969 in a small town near Kashgar. He published his first poem in 1986, and has since been recognized as one of the foremost modernist poets writing in Uyghur. His poetry has appeared in translation in Asymptote, Off the Coast, Crazy Horse, and elsewhere. Since the late '90s he has worked as a film director, founding his own production company and achieving recognition for his feature films, documentaries, and other projects. He currently lives in Washington, D.C. with his wife and three children.

From: https://www.wordswithoutborders.org/c...

Reviews

[Ярослава]

Величезна й абсолютно людожерська країна на очах у цілого світу в режимі реального часу докладає всіх зусиль, щоб знищити менший народ. Так званий цивілізований світ спостерігає, кліпає красивими очима, повторює, як це жахливо, але не вживає жодних реальних кроків, щоб допомогти, бо повністю залежний від стрьомної людожерської хуйні, і вигідна торгівля важливіша за права людини, особливо якщо це якісь люди третього сорту світу. Я, звичайно, розповідаю не про агресію Росії проти України, а про утиски уйгурів у Китаї. У порівнянні з уйгурами ми ще страшенно везучі, бо світ значно залежніший від Китаю, ніж від Росії, Китай для світу є значно більшою проблемою - боюся, що нездоланною, відколи світ вирішив аутсорснути туди масу всього. Відповідно, уйгурів кинути під автобус значно легше, ніж українців, що ми й бачимо.

Тахір Хамут Ізгіл - уйгурський поет, свого часу брав участь у протестах, що закінчилися брутальним придушенням на Тяньаньменській площі, потім пробував виїхати на навчання за кордон, але був арештований за надуманими звинуваченнями у вивезенні держтаємниці і відсидів три роки, але станом на початок дії мемуарів "Waiting to Be Arrested at Night" усі труднощі вже позаду, чи бодай так йому здається: він живе в Урумчі (столиці уйгурського автономного округу) з коханою дружиною і чудовими донечками, став успішним режисером і має власну продакшн-компанію, на дозвіллі годинами говорить про літературу зі своїми друзями - уйгурськими інтелектуалами і поетами, колоритними власниками книгарень, бакалійниками, які перекладають Бертрана Расселла уйгурською, і, загалом, живе своє найкраще життя. Трошки тоталітарного пиздецю на фоні, звичайно, все одно є (скажімо, коли в родині народжується дозволені квотою для етнічних меншин дві дитини, сусідcький комітет зобов'язує дружину поета встановити спіраль) - але це пиздець в межах середніх китайських показників, ще не таргетований. А тоді поступово починає згущатися пітьма.

Це - дуже страшні спостереження, як за лічені роки розкручується маховик репресій: від відносно ліберальних (в межах загалом стрьомного режиму, звісно) часів, коли на прихід товариша Сі до влади ще навіть покладали сподівання на краще, до повної зачистки спільноти з мільйонами по концтаборах. Те, що здавалося немислимим іще вчора, сьогодні стає новою реальністю: наприклад, в уйгурських серіалах забороняють традиційне вітання ассалам-алейкум. Ізгіл такий спершу: та ну, якийсь брєд, не можна отак просто взяти і стерти частину традиції, яку ця спільнота плекала тисячоліттями. Але не встигає озирнутися, як мовні норми змінюються: релігійна символіка потрапляє під заборону, тому, скажімо, навіть у соцмережах під некрологами відомих людей не можна написати традиційне "хай у раю спочиває" й доводиться вигадувати незграбні неологізми "хай місце його спочинку буде красивим". Потім виходять списки заборонених уйгурських імен (тих, де помітна релігійна компонента - Мухаммад, Імам абощо - нібито як захід проти релігійного екстремізму), й газети заповнюються оголошеннями про зміну імені. "A name is a human’s most personal possession; if he cannot hold on to his own name, what hope does he have of keeping anything else?" - жахається поет, і правильно, бо це, звичайно, етап у великому проєкті зі стирання народу. Потім починаються великі хвилі арештів.

Власне, Ізгілу в останній момент вдається вирватися з родиною у США, завдяки чому ми й читаємо цю книжку, але відразу за ним двері, так би мовити, зачиняються. Коли він дзвонить своїй матері, в неї відразу конфіскують паспорт і телефон, і повертають тільки після письмових зобов'язань не контактувати з сином більше ніколи. Друзі по одному зникають зі зв'язку. Перекладач цих мемуарів їде в Урумчі, у книгарні бере книжки уйгурських авторів і натяками питає - "а він у місті? а їй як живеться?" - і виявляється, що більшості ведеться не дуже. Уже незабаром книгаря арештовують, уйгурські книгарні зачиняються й опиняються поза законом. Спільнота, яка тисячоліттями трималася на близьких родинних і дружніх зв'язках, зникає - хтось "їде на навчання" (перевиховання в концтабір), хтось боїться говорити з навколишніми, щоб не потрапити під роздачу, усі навколо підозрілі.

Чи не найпронизливіший момент для мене був оцей:

“I wish the Chinese would just conquer the world,” one of my friends said suddenly.
“Why do you say that?” asked one of our companions.
“The world doesn’t care what happens to us,” my first friend replied. “The world doesn’t understand China. Since we can’t have freedom anyway, let the whole world taste subjugation. Then we would all be the same. We wouldn’t be alone in our suffering.”
“It’s looking like you’ll get your wish,” said a third friend.

Бо це дуже психологічно зрозумілий для мене момент. При цьому в мене про уйгурів є дуже трепетний спогад з третього дня повномасштабної війни - я на момент 24 лютого 2022 працювала в Бостоні, відповідно, пішла там на демонстрацію. І там побачила цілий гурт з плакатами "Уйгури підтримують Україну". Отут мене просто розмазало, бо їм і так значно безнадійніше, ніж нам, а вони мають сили на солідарність. Це було дуже зворушливо. Коротше, хочу сказати, що треба намагатися читати більше книжок народів у загроженому становищі - ми нічим не можемо допомогти, але можемо трошки вихоплювати ці культури в небуття, додаючи їм читачів (і сподіватися, що хтось так само підхоплюватиме українські книжки, якщо в нас усе піде за найгіршим варіантом).

(Між іншим, уперше про утиски уйгурів я почула років десять тому якраз від перекладача цієї книжки - ми якийсь час були сусідами в гарвардському гуртожитку. Страшенно колоритна була тусовка: інколи виходиш серед ночі на кухню й дізнаєшся про спроби оживити мамонтів, а інколи - про невідомий тобі геноцид, який відбувається просто зараз.)

[Jenna ❤ ❀ ❤ · Rating 4 out of 5]

"A piece of my flesh
Torn away.
A piece of my bone
Broken off.
A piece of my soul
Remade.
A piece of my thought
Set Free."

From SÉNA, by Tahir Hamut Izgil

With China predicted to become the next global superpower, possibly by midcentury, I have become a bit fixated on the Chinese government, notably their system of mass surveillance and their human rights violations.

China's treatment of minorities is especially heinous, as they seek to homogenize the Chinese people, to better control them.

It is as though they are mass producing a population just as they mass produce goods, leaving little room for individuality.

Uyghurs Muslims are one ethnic group the Chinese government is trying to eradicate. They are forbidden to practice their religion and schools are forbidden to teach in the Uyghur language.

People are sent to "study", or rather, into forced labor camps for the slightest infraction. One can be arrested for having done something legally in the past which has now become illegal.

The Uyghurs live in fear that they will be the next to disappear. Having contacts abroad, having travelled abroad, having an imprisoned relative, owning a copy of the Koran, complaining about their ill treatment.... these and many more actions can bring down harsh sentences. Over a million people have already been interred.

This book is a memoir by a prominent Uyghur poet, detailing his and his family's life in China and their escape from their homeland before it was too late. The writing is somewhat simplistic; perhaps it's the translation or perhaps it's the style of the author. At first I disliked it but after a few pages, I got into the style.

The constant fear that Tahir lived with - that he and his family would be the next to disappear into the camps - was prominent throughout. I often felt anxious for them, even knowing beforehand that they were able to escape to the US.

It is heartbreaking to follow along as more and more of his friends and acquaintances are detained, interrogated, and locked away. Terrifying to watch as he and his family are sent to be fingerprinted, to have their voices recorded for ID purposes, and to have their photos taken at all different angles to ensure they can easily be identified on any of the millions of surveillance cameras throughout China.

I knew about these practices before but it was even more chilling to read about in the first person.

I recommend this memoir to anyone interested in China, in her egregious human rights violations, and in the plight of Chinese minorities, particularly Uyghur Muslims.

The following passage is a warning to us all, including those who do not care what is happening because it is not happening to them:

"'I wish the Chinese would just conquer the world,' one of my friends said suddenly.

'Why do you say that?' asked one of our companions.

'The world doesn't care what happens to us,' my first friend replied. 'The world doesn't understand China. Since we can't have freedom anyway, let the whole world taste subjugation. Then we would all be the same. We wouldn't be alone in our suffering.'

'It's looking like you'll get your wish,' said a third friend."

[Josh · Rating 4 out of 5]

When talking about political repressions of minorities, intellectuals or specific religious/ethnic groups within the last century you generally think of either Stalin's dekulakization or Hitler's genocide of the Jewish by means of concentration or death camps. The Turkic ethnic group, the Uyghurs (that mostly live in the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region in Northwest China), are now part of this story.

Izgil's memoir explains his detainment as a youth in a labor camp when trying to cross China's border to study overseas due to his ethnicity until the time of his successful immigration to America with his wife and two children within the past several years. As Izgil explains the lack of freedoms that the majority of Uyghurs go through daily (radios taken away, TV's non-existent, phones confiscated, etc), as a Western white man, I feel like I take for granted all the freedoms I do have.

They include:

The ability to communicate freely without worry about 'Big Brother'.
To apply for a passport and not worry about the color of your skin, religion or ethnicity and travel practically anywhere I want to in the world.
I don't have to worry about my government detaining me because they fear me for no reason.
I don't fear being sent to a labor or extermination camp because of who I am.

As Izgil's friends are sent away, one by one, whether they be Islamic, an academic, one who speaks out against the government and is labeled a separatist (Ilham Tohti and Perhat Tursun are examples), he finds a way for he and his family, with a little luck, to immigrate and eventually get the freedom he seeks for them all. Yet, that freedom comes with a price; the inability to speak to other family members as it puts them in danger and the loss of friends which he knows will most likely die prematurely. His survivor's guilt is on full display and you definitely feel for him and the people that are having to endure such anguish.

This is not an overall history of the Uyghur people, but a good introduction and eye opener into what is happening in current times.

[Jifu · Rating 4 out of 5]

(Note:I received an advanced reader copy of this work courtesy of NetGalley)

I’ve read a sizable amount of news stories about the internment camps that have been set up all through northwest China, and a decent amount of stories of other repressive measures taken in Xinjiang province against the country’s Uygher population. However, Tahir Hazmut Izgil’s memoir provides an entirely new level of perspective. His story reveals a place where daily existence has undergone death by a thousand policies, security measures, countless random visits by police, checkpoints, and other tools of the state. And on top of all of the aforementioned making life for Uyghers like the author barely tolerable, there's still the trauma of having friends, family and neighbors disappearing off into prison and “educational centers” in increasing numbers while the terrible possibility that one could be next lingers heavily overhead.

Waiting to Be Arrested At Midnight is a reading experience that can be heavily anxiety-inducing, when learning of the paranoia-provoking, claustrophobic nightmare that the Uygher homeland has become. In other words, this is a book that definitely gets the job done. Many thanks for both Izgil for being so willing to share his story, and for his translator Joshua Freeman for making it available to English language speakers such as myself.

[Danielle | Dogmombookworm · Rating 5 out of 5]

No one needs to read dystopian fiction when reality for Uighur Muslims is horrifying enough. An immensely terrifying read, but one that I think should be in everyone's hands. We should all be talking about this.

Hamut is a poet. Early in the book, he relays some of the more innocuous encounters where he is simply out at poetry readings and they are interrupted and interrogated with their IDs taken and names taken down. We learn early on that he had been sent to a reeducation "study" camp years before when he was younger.

The author recounts life in Urumchi, the most widely surveilled city in the world, also the largest population of Uighur Muslims. Through the course of the book, we see the many ways in which the CCP has made life not just difficult but terrifying to exist without freedom of movement. Everyone has an ID card that is used for tracking purposes. People are watched by local officers who pop up to ask about their recent whereabouts, if there's anything to report on their neighbors and who provide scores on their "reliability."

The CCP is deathly afraid of ethnic separatists gaining any momentum at the cost of
any and all human life. Hamut recounts the rise in mass arrests, the banning of books and any paraphernalia that indicates they practice Islam even a Quran, people being disappeared, and of course the day-to-day tracking of everybody's whereabouts through their ID cards, constant surveillance with cctv, and interrogations meant to inspire constant fear. People can be stopped without pretense by the police, and taken away for questioning or disappeared. One alarming incident included a cop who pulled out a device that he plugged into Hamut's phone that began scanning for any type of banned material.

The mixture of govt fear and paranoia coupled with the capability of the CCP to enact systematic, ubiquitous surveillance is staggeringly scary. Both he and his wife were forced to report to the local police station to provide fingerprints, 360 images of their face, voice samplings, and blood samples.

Reading Hamut's poetry interspersed with his personal history heightened the reading of his life, of profound sadness, desperation and fear. We also hear stories from some of his friends, some of which include legal and illegal crossings as refugees through countless countries to get out of China. With the increase in crackdowns against Uighurs, the levels of planning and effort that Hamut and his wife had to do for their family was staggering and reminded me, as an American, of the absolute power of my blue passport that I take for granted.

Towards the end of this book, my heart dropped. Finishing, I was left deathly still and very disturbed.

[Carol · Rating 5 out of 5]

****4.5 Stars**** Review to Follow

[Queralt✨ · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is Tahir Hamut Izgil’s memoir of this time in China as a poet and intellectual in Urumchi. Joshua Freeman, who used to translate Izgil’s poetry prior to him becoming a refugee, adds a foreword explaining how he got into Uyghur translation and became acquainted with the poet and how he ended up translating this memoir. I tend to skip translator notes and I’m glad I didn’t in this case.

The book has a poignant title, Waiting to Be Arrested at Night, and it’s also a powerful and hard-to-read story about discrimination, repression, and surveillance over the Uyghur. Besides the actual genocide, I thought the cultural genocide this memoir highlights (removing words in Arab from Uyghur movies, banning classical Uyghur literature, etc.) was very interesting. The Uyghur genocide isn’t getting as much attention as other current issues, but the cultural genocide is something I had not heard of (at all, I dare say?).

Izgil explains how intellectuals and Uyghur are treated by the authorities and his story about how he found his way to the US. It’s a hard read.

“I wish the Chinese would just conquer the world,” one of my friends said suddenly.
“Why do you say that?” asked one of our companions.
“The world doesn’t care what happens to us,” my first friend replied. “The world doesn’t understand China. Since we can’t have freedom anyway, let the whole world taste subjugation. Then we would all be the same. We wouldn’t be alone in our suffering.”

[Stitching Ghost]

No rating because I don't give star ratings to memoirs.
It was an interesting exploration of how authoritarian regimes weaponize community against itself and of the multiple layers of surveillance a group can be subjected to.

[MA · Rating 5 out of 5]

一本维族知识分子的回忆录，以平淡的语调叙述那片土地所发生的恐怖故事，或许因为是对那里发生的事情太过熟悉，感觉此书未有《有去无回的地方》那般令人震撼，但仍是在阅读过程中数次泪目。没有什么比流亡的人生与亲友被捕的痛苦更令人煎熬，新的一年惟愿那片土地的上的人们能不再经历这些非人化的待遇。

[Mainlinebooker · Rating 4 out of 5]

Last book of vacation.. therefore no review but horrific course of events would have been amplified if the writing wasn’t so plain.

[Elena L. · Rating 4 out of 5]

[4.5/5 stars]

This is a memoir about Tahir H. Izgil, a prominent Uyghur poet and intellectual; and his journey from his homeland (Urumchi) to America as his family seeks asylum.

The translator's introduction already anticipates how powerful this memoir will be. In Xinjiang (region of Western China), there's a discrimination against Uyghurs people by the (Chinese) majority while Chinese government mercilessly persecutes its people. Those regarded as a 'threat' to the (deteriorating) political circumstances face mass arrest or are imprisoned in internment camps.

Tahir boldly exposes how is to be living in fear - he details the experience as a poet when publishing his poetry collections, the lack of free speech and the banned contents in Uyghur literature, from religious extremist to ethnic separatist ideas.

Additionally, the author openly shares his difficult childhood and his family's challenges to obtain visa. The horrific repression and high-tech surveillance paint appalling and desperate images in one's mind.
In the face of what feels like pure tragedy coursing through the pages, Tahir gives one permission to cultivate hope, to be able to dream for a better future.

WAITING TO BE ARRESTED AT NIGHT (tr. Joshua L. Freeman) is a painful and important book of Uyghurs people whose voices need to be heard, to echo louder. I urge you to read this.

(note: I had to google more about the 2009 violence in Urumchi)

[ I received a complimentary copy from the publisher - Penguin Press . All opinions are my own ]

[Daniel Simmons · Rating 4 out of 5]

In my Chinese language class a few weeks ago my teacher had us watch the music video for a popular disco/workout song called (in English translation) "Little Apple", by the Chopstick Brothers. It was beyond-belief kitschy, the kind of audio-visual abomination that makes you want to claw your eyes and ears out in one go. (Though to be fair, some of my classmates enjoyed it immensely.)

I mention this because of all the assaults on human dignity in Xinjiang that appear in this deeply unsettling memoir, the scene that lingers most in my mind is when the author goes to visit an imam and discovers that the latter's phone ringtone is none other than "Little Apple." He disgustedly notes, too, that Islamic religious leaders have been forced to publicly dance to the song in deference to the local party secretary's music preferences.

It's a smallish moment but indicative, I thought, of how invasively and disrespectfully the central Chinese government's mandates about culture and religion have penetrated nearly all aspects of Uyghur daily life.

Overall: a sad but eye-opening read.

[whasa · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was quite an eye opening read into an issue which imo receives very little attention as compared to others. The author speaks about overt oppression on a day to day basis that his family/friends faced before he was finally able to escape to the US. As a memoir and considering the fact that it was translated from a different language, I think it reads quite well. The style of writing isn't super impressive but then again that doesn't really matter with a story like this.

[Cynthia Wang · Rating 5 out of 5]

Real, first hand account of the atrocities in Xinjiang that are still ongoing. More people should be reading this. Told through the eyes of a poet intellectual, beautiful and moving. I can only imagine the weight of his words in Uyghur. And the bravery it takes to leave, revisit and retell. I hope your people’s story gets told far and wide.

[Arnau Fernández Pasalodos · Rating 5 out of 5]

Uno de los mejores libros que he leído este año. Una autobiografía a través del genocidio que está sufriendo la comunidad uigur en China. Lo que está sucediendo allí es terrorífico a la par que utópico. Por momentos, el libro toma tintes orwellianos cuando el autor explica cómo está usando el Estado chino la tecnología para controlar y perseguir a los uigures.

[Tristan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tahir Hamut Izgil escaped Xinjiang with his family in 2017, one of the greatest living Uyghur poets forced from his home. As the Uyghur way of life slid into the crosshairs of the Chinese government over the last 20 years, Izgil describes the descent, one step at a time, into suffocation.

The 2000s Chinese government dismantled the Uyghur-language education system. It then orchestrated the migration of ethnic majority Han Chinese into Xinjiang, and ethnic minority Uyghurs out of their Western homeland. The Chinese government began to chip away at Uyghur life: banning Muslim phrases, banning books (especially history books!), banning gatherings (it was smart to order alcohol at a gathering to disarm police and convince them you weren’t radically Muslim). Discrimination became pervasive and socially normalized to the point that the equivalent of pogroms started in mid-2009: lynchings, angry mobs, etc. Eventually, gradually, overt state-sponsored persecution became the norm.

The main theme that jumped out at me in this book is that it feels like the Chinese government studied other genocides and concocted a terrifying mix of effectiveness, efficiency, and minimal international outcry to implement in its own campaign.

The Chinese government has optimized its oppression: technologically-upgraded Saddam Hussein surveillance state, supercharged George Bush fear-mongering of Islamic extremism, systematic graduation of forced migration causing unrest á la Indonesia, technology (facial recognition software, cellular device monitoring) enabling city-sized open air prisons like Palestine, turning citizens against each other and into their own surveillance system like Stalinist Russia, banning domestic media and international news/contact (like every authoritarian government but we’ll just liken it to North Korea), torture chambers like South Sudan, labor camps and forced abortion, as systematic and chillingly effective as the Holocaust.

Because of China’s relative power in the world and its ability to insulate this atrocity, the genocide has met very little international outcry, and is meeting very few obstacles in achieving its goals.

For all of these reasons, this is the scariest government action by any government, in any country, that I have ever read about.

This book produced in me a visceral despair; a full body ache at the death of a million futures, at the death of a beautiful culture. A plane ride away from you and I, right now, in this very moment, humans live in hell.

Favorite Quotes:

“Raising the Chinese flag at Uyghur houses of worship was unheard of. Even during the Cultural Revolution, nothing of the kind had happened. Forcing us to fly this flag at our holiest sites was yet another reminder that we had been colonized.”

“No wall can stop the wind.”

“When they had applied for Kazakhstani visas, they had said they were Kazakhs. Crossing illegally from Iran into Turkey, they had dressed as Kurds. In Turkey, they had introduced themselves as Uyghur Turks, and had become Turkish. When people in Greece asked where they were from, they replied that they were Korean tourists. In Athens, they had registered as Afghan refugees of Uzbek ethnicity. Only on arriving in Sweden did they feel secure in registering with their own identity. They were Uyghurs.”

[Jesco Lippke]

In Erwartung meiner nächtlichen Verhaftung ist die autobiografische Erzählung des uigurischen Dichters, Filmemachers und Intellektuellen Tamir Hamut Izgil. Das Buch beschreibt seine Lebenssituation in den Jahren vor seiner Flucht in die USA und gibt einen Einblick in die Unterdrückung, die die uigurische Minderheit in der Provinz Xinjiang, China, erleiden muss. Die Uiguren, eine muslimische Minderheit, werden vom chinesischen Regime systematisch zur Assimilation gedrängt und erleben fortwährende Repressionen, also ein aktuelles, politisch brisantes Thema.

Ich fand das Buch äußerst lesenswert und hatte konstant große Lust, weiterzulesen, was mir nicht allzu oft passiert. Izgils nüchterner und sachlicher Stil verleiht dem Erzählten eine besondere Authentizität und vermittelt trotzdem die Emotionen und Ängste, die mit dieser Unterdrückung einhergehen. Man bekommt ein Gefühl dafür, wie es ist, in permanenter Unsicherheit zu leben. Die Angst und der konstante Stress aufgrund der Ungewissheit werden gut nachzollziehbar, und obwohl man bereits aus dem Vorwort weiß, dass Izgil schließlich fliehen konnte, bleibt die Erzählung spannend.

Für alle, die sich für das Thema interessieren, eine klare Empfehlung – und auch für jene, die sich nicht unbedingt für das Thema interessieren kann die Lektüre bereichernd sein. Izgils Schreibstil merkt man an, dass er als Dichter ein Gefühl für Sprache hat, auch wenn er in dieser Erzählung eher sachlich bleibt. Die Gedichte zwischen den Kapiteln empfand ich persönlich als überflüssig, da ich wenig damit anfangen konnte. Dennoch bietet das Buch interessante Einblicke in die uigurische Kultur und die Welt eines "uigurischen Intellektuellen," wie sich Izgil selbst beschreibt. Einige kulturelle Eigenheiten, die er als typisch uigurisch darstellt, wirkten auf mich etwas eigenartig, doch insgesamt konnte ich mich gut in seine Perspektive hineinversetzen.

[Poppy || Monster Lover · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a wonderfully written and harrowing tale of escaping the Uyghur genocide in China. It’s depressing how it mirrors the progression of all other genocides, with gradual taking away of freedoms. Definitely worth the read to understand what is happening.

[Krysia Meráki Stories · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un descubriento terminando este 2024.

A la vez que denuncia una realidad, deja los aspectos más humanos de todos los inmigrantes forzados a dejar su tierra.

Recomendación sin duda.

[Ana de Toro · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tremendo el horror de sentirse en 1984 de Orwell pero sabiendo que es real.
Estas memorias de Tahir Hamut Izgil me han impactado mucho. Desconocía por completo la situación en China y me han parecido duras pero brillantemente escritas. Las he leído en 5 días.

[G · Rating 5 out of 5]

I cannot rate this book highly enough. I learned so much about the Chinese government’s persecution of the Uyghurs and the sacrifices it took one Uyghur family to escape.

[Isabella Williams · Rating 5 out of 5]

An important read that will leave your heart aching.

[Joshua Jackson · Rating 4 out of 5]

After a second read, I take back my initial criticisms of the translation.

The tension in the events that take place, and their eerie familiarity to our current moment, made this a very engaging, timely, and informative read.

From the accounts of people being sent off to "study," to the ways individuals conform to avoid persecution, to the reflections on one's homeland, the author paints a very tangible and uncomfortable picture of how navigating oppression requires both compromise and constant self-reflection.

[Pilar Gradolph · Rating 3 out of 5]

Otro relato aterrador que me enfrenta a una realidad que desconocía. Esta vez es en China, la represión sobre la minoría musulmana uigur. Qué control sobre la población!. Incluso sobre sus sueños.Vivimos en la era de la comunicación y no sabemos nada de lo que ocurre a nuestro alrededor. Que poco valoramos la libertad y la paz en la que unos pocos podemos vivir!

[rara ➶ · Rating 4 out of 5]

important and incredible

[Julia Xing · Rating 5 out of 5]

沒有人應該生活在這樣的恐懼之中。希望維吾爾族人總有一日能回到故土，願這個世界不再有暴政，不再有恐懼，不再有共產黨。

[Mar&Lecturas · Rating 4 out of 5]

Un testimonio desgarrador de lo que supone ser uigur (etnia minoritaria musulmana) en China en la actualidad

[Jesse Field · Rating 5 out of 5]

In this devastating memoir, Tahir Hamut Izgil describes the situation of intense cultural repression of Uyghur culture ongoing in China today. Between roughly 2015 and 2019, Izgil and his wife faced ever-greater chances of being caught up in mass arrests and put into concentration camps, until finally they took the risk of emigrating to the USA and applying for asylum status.

People may read such a story in various ways, and I myself have very complex feelings as I read, most of them unpleasant and discomfiting. I think we must see the malaise and discomfort as functioning to make us value a society where minority cultures and languages retain the freedom to exist and serve their populations. China ought to be a place where the Turkic Uyghur minority can say “salam aleikam” as a greeting in normal life. They should be able to name their children Muhammad or whatever they like. Policies repressing such basic human freedoms as greeting each other and naming the children are not only blatant attempts to erase cultures, they dehumanize the dominating and colonizing power that implements the policy. The Chinese people diminish themselves when they seek to diminish their Turkic compatriots.

Izgil records experiences of being an oppressed minority down to the smallest details. Getting a passport and permission to travel is as arduous for Izgil and his Uyghur family as it would have been for a German in the eighteenth century, writing to to his prince for permission to move. Publishing media was also always strictly controlled, but now, is practically eliminated. Izgil and his fellow writers and filmmakers obeyed all rules during the 2000s, and 2010s, but the situation for the Uyghur reading public declined so much that even books and periodicals allowed and endorsed by Beijing cultural authorities in the early 2010s were repudiated and suppressed by the end of the decade. And in the late 2010s, the more advanced censors of the state know better than to announce book bans; items simply disappear from circulation.

Throughout the story, one has the uncanny sense both of a totalitarian past, as under Mao or Stalin, and the 2010s present. AI cameras and an insidious, rumored central integrated database have helped ethnic Han authorities gain unprecedented control over targeted minorities like the Uyghurs. Never mind that these Turkic people live in small and ancient communities scattered in the large and remote provinces of China’s far west: Beijing would survey and control every single individual, accounting for their every daily task.

The purpose of this control is described in this book as “genocide,” but it would be better to call it a form of cultural suppression. At best it is sometimes described as sinification, but there is an ethnic bigotry to the project that belies any claims that when Turkic Uyghurs sacrifice their cultural identity, they will be allowed to enter the ranks of ordinary Chinese citizens. One gets the distinct intuition that the steps making most sense after concentration camps must involve some physical elimination, perhaps at best a temporary second class status to serve the Han, even while the population is slowly repressed and the western provinces stocked with full Han subjects. Some of the most chilling scenes in the book are the glimpses we get into a party apparatus that has studied all the Western research on Uyghur, Turkic, and Islamic languages and literatures. Having read the research of Western scholars written in the spirit of pluralism, Chinese leaders made the calculated decision to deny pluralism any foothold in their country. With their obsessive focus on preserving unbroken single-party rule, Uyghur culture, with its Islamic customs, is seen only as a potential threat, and is not deemed to have intrinsic value.

Izgil’s story is a testament to the necessity of pluralism. Unlike unknown thousands of his fellow Uyghurs, Izgil martialed his considerable cultural and social capital to escape China and reach the US with his wife and daughters. He writes movingly, both of how much he misses his homeland, with family they will never see again, and also of life in Washington, DC, where he found work as an Uber driver.

In the world of 2025, as we hear on the news that seeking asylum has become much more difficult in the USA and other countries, Izgil’s story implicitly argues that the international community ought to accept even more Uyghurs and other oppressed minorities around the world seeking asylum. Tools of foreign policy and international trade that aim to discourage China from oppressing its Turkic Muslim minority, like Canada’s recent sanctions against Chinese leaders and Chinese tech companies who developed surveillance equipment used to carry out abuses described in this memoir.

[Ted Richards · Rating 5 out of 5]

Let's start with a very warm hello to the CCP officer assigned to monitor these reviews. I have interwoven this review with a secret code. It can only be broken by watching all 10 series of Friends, reading Jane Austen's complete works, and beating Elden Ring. Sorry.

Now they're distracted, let's phalange.

Uyghurs are a Muslim minority, predominantly residing in China's Xinjiang region. Since 2016, their historic standards of discrimination got a lot worse. It has been reported and proven by brave undercover reporting that the Chinese government are undertaking a programme of mass detention, forced sterilisation, abuse, child separation, torture, and the destruction of thousands of mosques. Tahir Hamut Izgil does not set out to be an activist. He simply exists within his family and community as a Uyghur. Which is enough.

Izgil is a great writer and translator Joshua L Freeman has a superb introduction to the piece. Freeman helps the readers understand the importance of poetry in Uyghur culture, and Izgil's importance within that community. For a book with a subtitle about China's Genocide, there is a surprising lack of death or violence here. Izgil's memoir focuses instead on the terror of an overwhelming bureaucracy, of a vanishing community and the traps laid out for the well meaning.

Here's the most important part; Beijing is pursuing a policy of isolation. Izgil's clearest point is that this type of mass violence survives by cutting the Uyghur people off from foreign connections. It makes Muslim names illegal, bans books, and logs data. Izgil details his wife, Marhaba attending a police station for fingerprints, blood samples and facial scans for no other reason that the type of person she is. Behind the poetry, there is the clear shadow of torture, violence and murder taking place throughout Izgil's memoir but this is never made explicit.

It is a short book, brilliantly written and not exhausting to read. I expected this to be a lot heavier than it was because the expectation is cataclysmic agony. Izgil writes quietly. For every page of detention, there are two describing Uyghur culture; their poetry, dinner table, family and friends. It isn't easy, but it is not as unbearable as one might expect. Which paradoxically makes the subtlety pierce you all the more.

Hello again! If you've managed to crack the code, congratulations. Of course, I embedded a second code via the inverse. To break that one, all you will need to read is this very book. Have fun.

[Basmah Atta · Rating 5 out of 5]

NO SPOILERS:

Wow. What do I even say. I’m at a loss for words. Everyone needs to read this book. It’s heartbreaking because, I first heard of the persecution of Uyghurs in China in early 2019. A few months later, in fall of 2019, I attended an International Affairs talk in which Mihrigul Tursun (former Uyghur detainee) explained the harsh conditions these innocent Uyghurs and Hans go through in China. It’s insane to me that now, in 2024, nothing has been done to hold China’s government accountable for the decades of mistreatment.

Uyghurs are not allowed to pray, fast, say Salam, have Islamic weddings, celebrate Eid, engage in their mother tongue, go to the mosque (over 70% of mosques have been destroyed in the region), or eat halal food. If an Uyghur is caught doing any of these, they will immediately be detained in concentration camps. There are currently over 3 million Uyghurs in concentration camps, with organ harvesting and deadly torture beyond comprehension. Mass family separation, forbiddance of religion, mass surveillance system, modern day slavery is all common in the region.

If you have read “1984” by George Orwell, that is exactly what the Uyghurs and Han Muslims are experiencing right now.

Reading the memoir by Tahir Hamut was saddening because it recalls his experience in escaping China and seeking asylum in the states.

What can we do to help? Educate ourselves. Visit saveuighur.org to see options in various events, how to take action, resources, and updates.

I pray and hope one day we will live to see the end of this.