Jewher Ilham will not see her father, the Uyghur scholar Ilham Tohti, this Father’s Day. In fact, she has not seen him since 2013, when he was detained by the Chinese authorities and later sentenced to life in prison on baseless charges of “separatism”. Here Jewher, who has campaigned tirelessly for her father’s release and against repression of Uyghurs in their homeland in western China, recalls some of her fondest memories of him.
A hallway lit by opera
When I was very little, we lived in an apartment building on the campus of Minzu University in Beijing. The hallway lights were sound-activated, so you had to clap or make noise to turn them on. Our home was at the very end, and instead of clapping or stomping, my dad and I would sing random opera songs together as we walked down the hallway. It became our silly little tradition. Everyone in the building would know we were coming home. My father had a beautiful voice. We kept that tradition for many years.
Even now, I sometimes sing randomly at home, and my husband will join in. He didn’t know the story at first, but now he intentionally does it to make me smile.
Marriage, love, longing
My husband and I were married recently. He has been incredibly supportive of my advocacy work and I have a very good relationship with his family, but there’s almost no connection between him and my family.
Sometimes I get a little jealous when I see him casually texting in a family group chat or planning family visits for holidays. I’ve never had that because of the long-term disruption caused by the Chinese government’s actions against my family.
The last time I saw my father was on 2 February 2013 at Beijing International Airport. He was supposed to travel to the US for a visiting scholar fellowship, and I was just joining him during my winter break. But he was stopped at the airport in Beijing. Customs let me go because I was a teenager and apparently not a threat. However, they stopped my father, who was internationally known for his advocacy work and his research. He told me to get on the plane and that this might be my last chance to leave the country. If I didn’t take that flight, I might never have been able to leave – just like the rest of my family in the Uyghur region.
Laghman and polo
Another memory that stands out about my father is the first time I “cooked” for him. It wasn’t even cooking, just mixing a salad. He was so proud and bragged to at least 10 people about it. I was so embarrassed because the so-called “dish” didn’t require any real cooking skills. He used to say, “I can’t wait for the day my daughter can make me laghman and polo” – two key Uyghur dishes. Laghman is a noodle dish, and polo is a rice dish, and they were his favourites. Later, I actually did learn to cook. I wanted to be able to cook for him one day.
A generous, caring and courageous spirit
If I were to describe my father, the first thing I’d say is that he is incredibly generous. He always put others first. If he had 100 yuan (Chinese currency), he’d spend 90 helping others in need, use the remaining nine to buy me ice cream, and keep just one yuan for his bus fare. That’s the kind of person he is.
He’s also brave. He started his advocacy in the 1990s, writing about Uyghur history, politics and economics. He had a vision and remained consistent, even when faced with threats and bribes. He once apologized to me for “ruining” my life. But he didn’t – he showed me how to be a good human being through his actions. How to be consistent, truthful, generous, and brave.
I remember, before he was arrested, he said, “Reach out to people all around the world. Most of them, you or I will never meet, but they’ll help you, they are our friends.” He also told me, “Don’t hate China. Don’t let hatred bury you. Stay strong and kind and never stop fighting for your rights.”
Every letter can make a difference
I’ve learned to find strength in small wins. Early in my activism, I wanted to obtain big, quick victories. But soon I realized that’s not often feasible nor sustainable. Now, with even small updates – like someone regaining contact with their family – are meaningful to me. I manifest those wins for myself and hope one day I’ll experience them too.
I have learned that I may not always see results immediately, but every letter, every signature can make a difference. Even if just 10 letters reach a prison, it could make a prison guard think twice. Former political prisoners have told us their treatment improved when international pressure increased. Keeping my father alive is the first step to ensuring his freedom.
My message for the thousands of people who signed the petition calling for my father’s release is: please don’t underestimate your power. A letter may take a minute to write, but its impact can last years. Please never self-censor. Don’t silence yourself before authoritarian regimes do. Your voice matters.
Misconceptions about Uyghurs
People often think Uyghurs are from a small, remote, poor region that doesn’t matter. I think that’s a common misconception. It’s a region the Chinese state calls “Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region”, or “Xinjiang”. The Uyghur region – which is how I prefer to call it in my work – is one-sixth of China’s landmass and holds huge reserves of energy, minerals, cotton, polysilicon and more. There are around 15 million Uyghur people there, and around the world, and most of them are hard-working, smart, multilingual, kind and hospitable. The systemic discrimination and oppression targeting the majority-Muslim Uyghur community is not just a religious issue. Yes, being Muslim in China does play a role in why we are the target of the Chinese government, but at the root is that Uyghurs are seen as a distinct group with potential influence and the Uyghurs are deeply attached to our very resourceful homeland. The Chinese government would love to exploit this land with its abundance of natural resources. This is why it targets anyone who could offer a different worldview – Uyghurs, yes, but also Tibetans, Christians, Mongolians, Hong Kong activists. It’s about control.
My hope for the future
I haven’t had any update about my father since 2017. Family visits are still not allowed. I do not know if my father is still alive. I pray for his wellbeing and his health every day. I hope every Uyghur can be truly free – physically and mentally. Many are out of prison but still live in fear. I hope for a future where no one is afraid to telephone home, speak their language, or call their home however they wish.
I can’t wait for the day when all the Uyghurs are free, when hundreds of thousands of Uyghur families are reunited. I can’t wait for the day when my father sits in our living room smiling and says, “Balam [my child], I would like to eat Polo” and I’ll be able to say to him in person, “Makul, Dada! (Yes, Dad)”.