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Qaliolla Tursyn
Qaliolla Tursyn
哈力尤拉·吐尔逊
652522194905040055
Age
71
Gender
M
Ethnicity
Kazakh
Profession
law
Likely place of origin
Dorbiljin
Likely current location
Tacheng
Status
sentenced (2018, 20 y)
When problems started
Jan. 2018 - Mar. 2018
Detention reason (suspected | official)
challenging authority | ---
Health status
deceased
Lists
Deaths (2017-)  Forced labor cases  Eyewitness accounts  Exemplary entries  Covered in international media  From prolonged detention to prison  Entries mentioning specific prisons  Entries mentioning specific camps  Entries mentioning specific factories 
Locality
(residence)
2020-12-14

Qaliolla Tursyn was an elderly legal consultant, who wrote a complaint to Beijing following the police murder of a Kazakh man. The letter was intercepted, with Qaliolla, his wife, and two sons all being detained. He later died in prison.

consult raw version

testifying party (* direct submission)

Testimony 1: Berikbol Muqatai, a Kazakhstan citizen since 2008. (brother-in-law)

Testimony 2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|16|20|24: Akikat Kaliolla, a musician from Dorbiljin County, now a Kazakhstan citizen. (son)

Testimony 11*|12*: Akikat Kaliolla, as reported by Gene A. Bunin. (son)

Testimony 13: Akikat Kaliolla, as reported by Agence France-Presse. (son)

Testimony 14: Akikat Kaliolla, as reported by Global Voices. (son)

Testimony 15|21: Akikat Kaliolla, as reported by Apple Daily. (son)

Testimony 17|23: Akikat Kaliolla, as reported by Radio Free Asia Mandarin. (son)

Testimony 18: Akikat Kaliolla, as reported by China Aid. (son)

Testimony 19: Akikat Kaliolla, as reported by The Believer. (son)

Testimony 22: Akikat Kaliolla, as reported by National Public Radio. (son)

about the victim

Qaliolla Tursyn was a legal consultant and a retired cadre from the Culture and Sports Department (文体局). Being literate in Chinese, he often helped people file legal complaints.

Address: 3 South Progress Road, Dorbiljin Municipality, Dorbiljin County, Xinjiang (新疆额敏县额敏镇前进南路3号).

Chinese passport: E23021968.

current location

According to what Akikat has heard, he may have been in Wusu Prison at the time of his death [as he had been sentenced and this is generally where people from Tacheng with heavy sentences are sent].

chronology of detention(s)

First detained on March 15, 2018 and held in some sort of detention. Akikat reports that his father was allegedly taken to a hospital in handcuffs in April 2018 [before presumably being sent back to detention].

Akikat mentions that his father was held in various detention facilities, including the camp in Turgun Village, before being transferred to Wusu Prison.

That Qaliolla had been sentenced Akikat only learned in late January 2019, when Akikat's wife was told by Chinese consular officials in Kazakhstan that the victim had been sentenced to 20 years in prison [in his interview to The Believer, Akikat says that they got an official letter stating that he had been sentenced in October 2018 - this may be a mistake].

Dorbiljin County authorities allegedly reported that Qaliolla died on December 5, 2020 (another source reports this as December 14), though Akikat does not believe this, thinking that his father had died long before.

Akikat alleges that his father was buried at Wusu Prison, instead of his body being returned to his family.

suspected and/or official reason(s) for detention

At the beginning of March 2018, local authorities in Dorbiljin County beat to death a 43-year-old ethnic Kazakh man named Zhumakeldi Ahai {2841}, after which Zhumakeldi's relatives begged for Akikat's father to write a formal complaint, which the latter did and sent to Beijing. However, the letter was intercepted and the victim arrested.

last reported status

Reported to have died in custody. The alleged official claim was that he died of coronary heart disease.

(Even prior to his detention, Qaliolla Tursyn suffered from liver cirrhosis, heart disease, and rheumatic arthritis. He had difficulty walking, his teeth had all fallen out, and he had previously had surgery on his leg for a comminuted fracture. According to what Akikat heard, he has been tortured in detention, which is likely to have made these conditions worse.)

how testifier(s) learned of victim's situation

Akikat has learned about his father's condition from numerous sources, some of which are firsthand but which he cannot disclose for fear of their safety being compromised [they have, however, been verified by shahit.biz staff]. Some information has been obtained from people having returned to Kazakhstan from Dorbiljin County.

The fact that Akikat's father was sentenced to 20 years was reported to Akikat's wife by the officials at the Chinese consulate in Almaty orally. There is still no written verdict.

In a mid-2020 call with Akikat, his mother told him that while she was in a holding cell - before being officially detained - she heard the authorities beat Qaliolla Tursyn until he screamed. Venera yelled at the authorities, telling them not to hit him, while one of Akikat's older brothers shouted "Stop! You're going to kill my father!"

Chinese authorities in Dorbiljin County have allegedly confirmed Qaliolla's death, but it isn't clear who exactly confirmed the news and how.

additional information

Because of the victim's complaint letter, his two sons were detained also and sent to camp. His wife was allegedly detained soon after for asking about their detention. All three were released at the end of December 2018.

It is possible that the victim was subjected to forced labor at Wusu Prison [if he was held there], as the Zhongxin LLC (乌苏众鑫农工贸有限责任公司) is based there and labor has been documented at the facility.

Media coverage of the story:
https://www.yahoo.com/news/kazakh-families-torn-apart-chinas-xinjiang-crackdown-032511957.html
https://globalvoices.org/2019/02/09/i-wont-stop-kazakh-man-seeks-justice-for-family-caught-in-chinas-xinjiang-crackdown/
https://uat-xinjiangcamps.appledaily.com/尋親者/阿黑哈提-哈力尤拉/全文
https://www.chinaaid.net/2018/07/blog-post_40.html
https://hk.appledaily.com/news/20201227/25QBOW4MMFB5VC7FO5I2NR4M7Y/
https://www.npr.org/2021/03/03/973198171/family-disappears-amid-chinas-detention-of-mostly-ethnic-uyghurs
https://www.rfa.org/mandarin/yataibaodao/shaoshuminzu/ql2-10102019072505.html
https://www.rfa.org/mandarin/yataibaodao/shaoshuminzu/ql1-01072021075222.html

Some court cases that the victim was involved in:
https://susong.tianyancha.com/38d4abf8fe0848f293e91a77ba4301ee
http://archive.is/DRaLf

Akikat's story in The Believer (https://believermag.com/weather-reports-voices-from-xinjiang/):

I’ll tell you a story that describes my father well. I met and fell in love with a girl from Kazakhstan. We planned to move there together and get married. I was living in China and we were both teaching at the music school in Ürümqi where we’d met. She was famous, actually, a famous traveling musician, at least in the world of traditional Kazakh music. I’d admired her long before we met. It was a dream to have such a girlfriend!

Before the wedding, when it came time to celebrate the qyz uzatu, the girl’s farewell, we were still living in China. My father is old—he’s seventy now—and in bad health, so in the end he couldn’t come to Kazakhstan for the wedding. But he attended the first wedding, as we call it, the girl’s farewell, and as a gift for my wife-to-be he brought two small books on China’s Main Law and Criminal Law. Now you should memorize the laws of China, he told her. You are married to a Chinese citizen. Both of you must know the laws of China and Kazakhstan. You see, he was so confident in the law, in the Chinese judicial system, but in the end he experienced the full and exact nature of that system—he got it exactly.

Before he retired, my father had worked for the Ministry of Culture. He was an educated man living in a place where the literacy rate was still low, and Chinese script in particular was not widely known. This was in Tacheng, which Kazakhs call Tarbagatai. In retirement, he spent his days helping people fill out papers in Chinese. Mostly, they were writing complaints. He wasn’t a lawyer but he knew the laws very well, so he helped people file complaints and petitions with local authorities. That’s just how he was.

With us, he was strict but loving. Education was everything to him. After I was born, he never spent a night outside the home. He was at my side while I studied; my brothers too. He sent the three of us to the Chinese-language school. You have to study, he would tell us. You have to learn calligraphy. He taught us both Kazakh and Chinese script. He devoted himself entirely to raising us. When I first showed an interest in music, he bought the family a piano. If he didn’t have the money, he borrowed it. We never heard a word about money in the house. We were always provided for. As I got older, my father bought me music-studio equipment—nothing big or fancy, but it was still an expense. We weren’t rich. Somehow he got the money.

I left home when I was nineteen and drifted, as musicians do: Ürümqi, Beijing, Shanghai. In 2014, I met my wife, and we came to Kazakhstan looking for jobs. My father had never traveled anywhere, but when I told him we were moving, he accepted it. You know your own mind, he told me. It’s your life. As I said, he didn’t attend my wedding, but when my child was born, in 2016, he came, even though he was already in bad health. He had no teeth, and his legs were fractured everywhere. He suffered from cirrhosis, heart disease, arthritis. He could barely walk. Even now, I don’t know his feelings. Did they want to move to Kazakhstan? Stay in China? Should I have suggested it? I know they were afraid. If they died in Kazakhstan, would their relatives be able to attend the funeral? I regret that I never asked my father if he wanted to move here, but people in our town weren’t used to speaking openly about Kazakhstan. It’s considered almost treasonous in China to discuss it—to talk about leaving. I only ever talked with my two brothers. I urged them to come here. As for my elder sister, she’s married to a party official. Her husband doesn’t want to move.

In March 2018, I had just become a Kazakh citizen. Every day, I’d send my mother a picture of our daughter on WeChat. That was how we kept in touch. Gradually, her messages became less frequent. Of course I’d heard that Xinjiang was getting difficult. I suspected this was the reason for her silences. That month, she removed me from her WeChat contact list altogether. I asked my brother why. I called him on video chat. He was visibly upset but couldn’t cry. It’s difficult here, he said. Not like before.

I was afraid local authorities might not treat my father well. He was a thorn in their side, helping neighbors write complaints. Before I hung up, I told my brother to let me know if anything happened.

The complaint that finally did him in was about a murder. A man named Zhumakeldi Akai was beaten to death by security guards at a reeducation camp. They took his body to his home to be buried. He had awful wounds. His wife came to my father. She wanted to make a complaint. They killed him, she said. She begged him to help. So my father wrote a letter to Beijing, but the letter never left the prefecture. The local authorities confiscated it. They paid my father a visit. So, they said, you want to blame us for this death before our superiors?

This information came to me through different channels. I’ll tell you exactly how, but I don’t want you to write it down. I don’t want the authorities to close these channels, and I don’t want the people helping me to get in trouble. In short, my family members were all detained right after my father wrote this complaint about the murdered neighbor. Someone—I don’t want to say who—told me soon after it happened.

But even before I was told, the night before their arrest, I had a bad dream. My heart was aching. I saw security guards following me, trying to catch me, and in the dream I had a thought: What is going on at my house? When I woke up, I knew something had happened.

As soon as I got the news, I called my sister in Ürümqi. Even with her husband’s status, she didn’t know anything. But she called our aunt and confirmed they were detained. I began to gather information from different sources. I called everyone I knew. In some cases, I don’t want to say their names. They’re still back there. These days, everyone knows about the weather code, so no one uses it. If I said that it was getting warmer, those listening would know what I was talking about. I have a different code. I don’t want to say what it is. But I have a code I use.

Eventually I got the whole picture from different people, some of whom had been detained with them, others who lived nearby or who heard secondhand. First, they detained my father and my two brothers. They did it without any warrant. They just disappeared. My mother went to complain to the local district authorities. She asked them for an explanation. The officials were happy she’d come. Ah, good, you’ve brought yourself in, they said, and detained her too.

After several months, my mother and brothers were released from the camps, but my father was taken somewhere else. He vanished. In the absence of any news, my wife compiled four invitation letters—the letters you write to bring family members into Kazakhstan—and sent them to the local council in my father’s village, if only to get some information about his fate. This January, we finally got a response: a letter stating that in October 2018 my father had been convicted to twenty years in prison.

Now I don’t know if he’s alive or dead. We didn’t get any information about the trial or any crimes he had committed. Not even my mother was aware of his sentence. All I know is that he’s no longer in the local prison where he was being held. I expect he was transferred to a place for people with long prison sentences. But he can’t eat, as I’ve said. Even in the local prison, they served him only stale bread and hot water. People who shared a cell with him there told me they would wet the bread in the water and feed it to him. He was handcuffed; he has no teeth. Without their help, he would have starved to death. [Despairingly] I don’t know—probably he already died.

I’ll tell you something else. My father was tortured. I can’t tell you where I got this information. It came from a prisoner who was released, and who managed to escape to Kazakhstan. There are many people like this. Most of them are simply in hiding. They don’t reveal what’s happening, because they’re afraid. This particular informant lives in Kazakhstan but won’t do an interview himself because his daughters are still in Xinjiang. I communicate mostly with people like this, often people I know personally from back in China. I know I can trust them. I don’t want to spread rumors or exaggerations. First, we should find the facts, what the reality is.

Now my brothers and mother are home, but a camera is installed in their house, watching what they are doing. I know they suffered in the camps. I am ready to die for them, and for my father too. I’m not sleeping. I cry. Men aren’t supposed to cry, but I cry. Twenty years? It’s a death sentence. And why? If there was an error in the last complaint he helped write—show me the error! My father was arguing that this man’s death was against Chinese law, which was not written by me or my father or any Kazakh. It was written by the government. It should not be subverted. Law is not like physics or mathematics—it’s not confusing. What it says is clear. We can understand it. It should be followed. My father did not break the law. He was following the law. It’s the authorities who are violating it. And now my family is back in China, but my father is nowhere.

miscellaneous media evidence

Context: Kazakhstan-based musician Akikat Kaliolla's parents and two brothers were all disappeared in March 2018, soon after his father sent a formal letter of complaint to Beijing over the local authorities' alleged murder of a young man critical of the mass incarcerations and local corruption. While the father was allegedly sentenced to 20 years, the mother and two brothers were sent to camp and later released, to remain under close surveillance. In 2020, Akikat's mother video-chatted with him and told him what had happened. Later, she and her two sons also made a short video where, holding up their ID cards, they spoke about their situation frankly. Translation as follows.

(first video)

Venera (mother): Muqiat suffered too. And Parasat. Parasat experienced the hardships there. I heard him screaming when they beat him up.
Akikat: Parasat's voice?
Venera: I thought I would die. I fainted that day. They put heart medication down my throat and took me to my room there, dragging me by the shoulders, and then left. I spent the entire night lying like that. I couldn't come to myself. I wanted to talk, but my tongue wouldn't move. My son, this is the kind of hardship we've experienced. I've told you this today, and so I might disappear tomorrow for having done so. I don't care, even if I do disappear. They are putting pressure on Qaliolla, and he's being falsely accused. They are taking revenge on him. They've illegally taken him to the educational training center and locked him up in a solitary room, beating him until he fainted. He was taken back [to his cell] afterwards, with his injuries. We heard about all this. The people who stayed with him saw it, and told me about it. That's it. This is how terrible our situation is now. My son, stay strong. You’re looking for us, and don't stop looking for your dad. This is what our life is like, this is the kind of pressure we're living under. That's all, my son.

(second video)

Venera: Today, I told my son Akikat of all the hardships that we've been through. This isn't some state secret - all of us were wronged. So, today the three of us have put our lives into Akikat's hands. Son, we are in your hands. We have been wronged.
Muqyiat (older brother): If we suddenly disappear, you have to look for us. Who knows what they might do to us...
Parasat (younger brother): Everything we've gone through is the genuine truth. The criminals must be imprisoned.
Source: https://twitter.com/Akikatkaliolla/status/1308127117863944198, https://twitter.com/babussokutan/status/1339491059433410561

relatives


places of detention


Wusu Prison Turgun Village Camp

supplementary materials

Testimony 1
Testimony 2
Testimony 3
Testimony 4
Testimony 5
Testimony 6
Testimony 7
Testimony 8
Testimony 9
Testimony 10
Testimony 16
Testimony 20
funeral in absentia
Testimony 23
Testimony 6 (English subtitles)
victim's home (winter 2019-2020)
victim's home (winter 2019-2020)
2016 court case
judgment enforcement record
limit consumption order
Chinese ID


entry created on: 2018-10-23

entry last modified on: 2021-06-02

last update from testifier(s): 2020-12-14