Berzat Bolathan was a farmer and woodworker, and spent much time looking after his sick father. Detained in April 2017 on "extremism" charges, he was sentenced to 17 years in 2018 and transferred to Wusu Prison.
Berzat Bolathan was a farmer, who also did woodworking on the side and devoted significant time to looking after his sick father. His brother, Erzat, describes him as very shy and modest.
Address: Narynshagankol Village, Zhel Agash Municipality, Dorbiljin County, Tacheng Prefecture.Berzat Bolathanuly (别尔扎提*波拉特汉). A farmer.
Address: Emin county, Tacheng region, Yili Kazakh Autonomous Prefecture, Xinjiang, China
Testimony 12: from Narynshagan section of Zhelagash village.
current location
Believed to be in Wusu Prison.[from G. A. Bunin's interview with Erzat Bolathan on September 5, 2019 (Testimony 6): a prison in Wusu.]
Zhongxin LLC (乌苏众鑫农工贸有限责任公司) operates out of Wusu Prison (http://archive.is/RbYxM), suggesting the likelihood of the victim being subjected to forced labor.
chronology of detention(s)
He was initially detained in April 2017, taken to a "prison" [unclear what exactly this was, likely custody], but then transferred to a detention center [possibly camp] as it was too crowded. In April-May 2018, he was allegedly given a 17-year sentence - the verdict given orally. According to the report from National Public Radio, he was sentenced in August 2018 [this may have been the formal sentencing].
He was transferred to Wusu Prison sometime in 2019.April 2017
[from G. A. Bunin's interview with Erzat Bolathan on September 5, 2019: Bekzat was first taken a "prison" in April 2017, but then had to be transferred to a detention center as it was too crowded. In April-May 2018, he was allegedly sentenced to 17 years - the verdict given orally - for reasons unclear. He was transferred to a prison in Wusu sometime in 2019.]
NPR report: sentenced in August 2018.
suspected and/or official reason(s) for detention
In one testimony, his brother says that he was originally detained for sharing Kazakhstan-related things on WeChat, although he admits in another interview that he really cannot imagine what he could have been detained for (and even guesses that it may have been Berzat's abstinence from cigarettes and alcohol).
Another relative of his says that it was for having a prayer mat at home.
The official arrest notice says that he was detained for "extremism".Testimony 5: originally detained for sharing Kazakhstan-related things on WeChat.
[from official arrest notice (Testimony 11): "extremism"]
Testimony 10: detained for posessing a praying mat at home.
last reported status
Allegedly imprisoned for 17 years and subjected to forced labor, according to his brother. The prison he is at has a registered agricultural products company, further suggesting the likelihood of the inmates there being forced to labor.
His relatives allegedly have to pay 200RMB per month for his meals, though sometimes this can go up to 100USD [unclear why the difference in currency]. His father has visited him several times, each time bribing the police in order to be given permission. Erzat notes that their father would bring Berzat medicine, as the latter is suffering from some health issues.He is allegedly imprisoned for 17 years and now is conscripted for forced labour.
Testimony 9: family members have to pay 200 RMB per month for his meals and sometimes they might ask as much as 100 USD per month. He's allegedly been put to forced labour.
how testifier(s) learned of victim's situation
[Presumably through the victim's father.]
The official arrest notice comes from the government bodies responsible for his arrest.[Presumably through his father.]
[shahit.biz has also reviewed the official arrest notice, which says that the victim was detained on suspicion of "extremism"]
There was no reason. You have to understand—none. My brother never committed a crime. He got detained, and my father, who lives in China, couldn’t meet with him. For more than two years, my father couldn’t see his son.
Bierzat is three years younger than I am. I came to Kazakhstan to study painting at the arts academy, but my younger brother and father have always lived in China. Bierzat visited me here twice, but that’s all. He doesn’t travel much. He’s a farmer like our father. Mostly wheat. He was always modest, very shy—almost debilitatingly shy. We never argued growing up; he was so quiet. He liked working with wood. As a side job, he was producing unfinished wood for furniture makers in our village. But his main job was taking care of our father. I was out here; he was close by. Our father is old and crippled, and Bierzat cared for him and worked the farm.
They came for him last April while he was treating wood in his workshop. At first, they brought him to a detention center of some kind. As soon as he was arrested, our father went to the police station. They told him not to worry. Probably we’ll let him out soon, they said. We already have too many people in prison. Instead, he was sentenced to seventeen years in prison. Neither my father nor I know why. They notified my father only once he’d already been sentenced. I’m not even aware of any trial having taken place. But my brother didn’t pray. He didn’t practice Islam. He didn’t even keep a Koran in the house. He never touched anyone, he was so reserved. He was married briefly, but they got divorced the very next year.
I’ve tried to find out through my father what kind of crime he committed and why he received such a long sentence. But he didn’t know anything. I know that he doesn’t drink or smoke. That’s all I can think of. This has become a liability in Xinjiang. It’s the religious implications. One of my relatives told me a story about visiting a nearby village and finding a cultural association there, and the members were all drunk. They were always drunk, he learned. One of them explained why. If we don’t drink, he said, they’ll get us. So maybe—I’m guessing—my brother’s guilt was that he doesn’t drink or smoke. I don’t know. He’s a loner, shy and modest. They couldn’t just leave him alone.Testimony 3: Berzat‘s father wanted to see his son, but the police officers asked for bribes, which he provided. This happened several times, and every time he would see Berzat he would give him some medicine since he has health problems.
Testimony 4: the victim didn't even get to have a lawyer at the trial.
There was no reason. You have to understand—none. My brother never committed a crime. He got detained, and my father, who lives in China, couldn’t meet with him. For more than two years, my father couldn’t see his son.
Bierzat is three years younger than I am. I came to Kazakhstan to study painting at the arts academy, but my younger brother and father have always lived in China. Bierzat visited me here twice, but that’s all. He doesn’t travel much. He’s a farmer like our father. Mostly wheat. He was always modest, very shy—almost debilitatingly shy. We never argued growing up; he was so quiet. He liked working with wood. As a side job, he was producing unfinished wood for furniture makers in our village. But his main job was taking care of our father. I was out here; he was close by. Our father is old and crippled, and Bierzat cared for him and worked the farm.
They came for him last April while he was treating wood in his workshop. At first, they brought him to a detention center of some kind. As soon as he was arrested, our father went to the police station. They told him not to worry. Probably we’ll let him out soon, they said. We already have too many people in prison. Instead, he was sentenced to seventeen years in prison. Neither my father nor I know why. They notified my father only once he’d already been sentenced. I’m not even aware of any trial having taken place. But my brother didn’t pray. He didn’t practice Islam. He didn’t even keep a Koran in the house. He never touched anyone, he was so reserved. He was married briefly, but they got divorced the very next year.
I’ve tried to find out through my father what kind of crime he committed and why he received such a long sentence. But he didn’t know anything. I know that he doesn’t drink or smoke. That’s all I can think of. This has become a liability in Xinjiang. It’s the religious implications. One of my relatives told me a story about visiting a nearby village and finding a cultural association there, and the members were all drunk. They were always drunk, he learned. One of them explained why. If we don’t drink, he said, they’ll get us. So maybe—I’m guessing—my brother’s guilt was that he doesn’t drink or smoke. I don’t know. He’s a loner, shy and modest. They couldn’t just leave him alone.