Abduweli Ayup Among Uyghurs in Syria:  Love unites us; culture Holds us together

Editor’s Note: The author recently visited Syria, exchanged views directly with Uyghur communities, and published a series of writings. In line with its principle of providing a platform for diverse views, Uyghur Post has offered space to independent voices on Uyghurs in Syria. The opinions expressed in the commentary are the author’s own and do not necessarily represent the position of Uyghur Post.

By Abduweli Ayup

Nov 5, 2025

I met the Uyghurs in Syria for the second time in October. I visited the schools, mosques, companies, and factories they had established. I watched heated football and basketball matches filled with shouts of “Shoot!”, “Pass!”, “Kick!”, and “Throw!” in Uyghur and I walked through neighborhoods where ordinary Uyghurs had gathered, spoke with specialists working in hospitals, ate in Uyghur restaurants, and spent day and night speaking my mother tongue. I strolled through the night markets, enjoying Samsa, leghmen, and even Opke-hisip dishes.

Those fifteen days in Syria became, in my life of exile, the shortest, the fastest-flipped, yet the most constantly remembered pages—pages filled to the brim with affection. Below, I present a few pages from those memories.

Our Next Target Is Education

“We defeated the tyrant in Syria; now our target is education. Our future depends on education,” said one Uyghur commander, speaking deliberately, word by word. In my conversations with other leaders of the 84th Division, education was emphasized more than anything else.

They have established Uyghur-language education from kindergarten to junior middle school. The textbooks used for mother-tongue instruction are revised versions of Uyghur textbooks that are banned in China. Natural sciences are taught using the old Uyghur textbooks in relatively free classrooms. Senior high school education is conducted in Arabic, with repetition and reinforcement in Uyghur.

On the final day, during lunch, I asked: “You say education is the most important, but your schools seem to lack libraries, laboratories, gymnasiums, and equipment. Even kindergartens seem short of toys.”

The weight of this question was heavy, and we both knew the answer. Managing nearly twenty thousand people, guaranteeing their safety, and sustaining them without making them dependent on Syrian society is not easy. Filling what they lack, delivering our brotherly love through school supplies, toys, and books—this is the duty of all of us who call ourselves Uyghur.

Uyghur education in Syria is not Syrian education; it is the continuation of mother-tongue education that was cut off in the homeland. Preserving it, strengthening it, and turning it into a spring from which Uyghur identity—eroded in exile—can drink, should be the target of all our efforts.

We Are Victorious on the Field Too

“We are not only victorious on the battlefield in Syria; we are victorious on the sports field too,” said a commander from Ürümchi in his forties.

During our days in Syria, we watched two major sports competitions. On October 12, there was a basketball tournament with eight teams bearing Uyghur names. At 9 a.m., more than 300 Uyghurs gathered in a hall in Idlib that could hold about 500 people. It was the first time in ten years of my life that I had seen so many Uyghurs together.

Since 2022, Uyghurs have continued to organize such tournaments. They have achieved results in city-wide competitions in Idlib and even had moments of honor standing on the podium with the blue flag, filling Uyghurs with pride.

“Do you remember the ‘Hurra’ in Ürümchi? (1) Soon our people will hear the real ‘Hurra’ from us,” said a round-faced, well-trained fighter who came down from the football field to speak with me. How could I not remember? That day, Ürümchi had looked even more beautiful, filled with Uyghur youth wearing shirts with blue at the bottom and white letters spelling “Hurra.”

The football match began before noon and lasted about five hours, held in another large indoor stadium in Idlib two days after the basketball match. We spoke with former professional trainers and athletes from the homeland, and with those who had competed in major tournaments. All of them were concerned with one question: how to introduce Uyghurs to the world through football, and how to continue the struggle.

One younger brother from Turpan impressed me deeply. In 2016, he had been wounded in a battle in Idlib and diagnosed as paralyzed. But because he had long trained physically, surgery not only failed to defeat him—it became a miracle. Through constant effort, he recovered and returned to the field as an indefatigable player.

We Will Not Create a “New Uyghur”

“We will not create a new Uyghur in Syria; we will preserve and strengthen the identity we brought from East Turkistan,” say the Uyghur leaders in Syria.

According to the commanders, what they have learned in more than ten years of warfare is immense. They know that there is no victory without the people, and that separation from the nation leads to ruin. They have learned from how Syrians, despite differences of religion, opinion, and sect, united under the name of the Arab Republic. They admire the Jews’ perseverance, spirit of sacrifice, and hopefulness in building a state.

Their view is worth reflection and appreciation: “We live in Syria, but we walk our own religious path. Our ancestors embraced Islam in the Hanafi school, and we follow the same. We will not change Uyghur customs shaped by Islam to create a new nation.”

We Treat Trade as a Form of Struggle

Uyghurs in Syria own companies, cement factories, fuel stations, olive groves, farmland, chain supermarkets, hospitals, pharmacies, and dairy farms (one farm was recently sold, so we did not visit the barns). During our visit, we saw all of these.

At the cement factory, a master from Hotan welcomed us shyly. Serving brewed medicinal tea with both hands, he said: “We don’t have an eight-hour workday like you. If there is no work and we rest, we suffer, feeling ashamed to face our brothers back in the homeland who are watching the road with longing.”

We were received in a neatly decorated office in Idlib’s bustling auto market. On the desk stood the Syrian flag beside the East Turkestan flag.

“An empty bowl cannot stand upright, Teacher. We used to do business and fight at the same time. Even now, we are fighting on the commercial battlefield,” said the economic officer of the 84th Division.

They began self-support through trade in 2016 and have since worked in oil, automobiles, olives, dairy, and real estate. Recently, they prepared land to build a shopping center, which will require several million Euros. They have also established a tourism company. The newly founded company is called “Bürküt” (Eagle), which has accumulated good capital through car trading and plans to enter the gold trade.

Love Unites Us; Culture Holds Us Together

Among the leaders, the man who met us at Damascus airport, arranged everything, spoke with me the most, and hosted me with leghmen at his home taught me many things. On the first day, in the car, he said: “Ideas do not unite people; love does.”

The story behind this thought was moving. He grew up in the West, worked there, and after leaving home, regularly used part of his income to visit his parents and seek their blessing. Seeing this virtue, a close colleague—a Christian old man—admired him so much that he decided to leave him an inheritance worth $100,000.

“More than ideology, culture is what unites a nation. Thousands of years of culture, love for homeland, ancestors, and history bind us to one another,” he said another day, expanding on his earlier thought.

He never tired of speaking about the places he visited with his father, the things he did, the advice he heard, and the bright customs inherited from grandparents. He longed for that ancient, fiery, captivating culture growing ever fainter in distance. In every word, his desire to uphold the noble traditions of Uyghur heritage was evident.

One day, while rushing to an urgent task, he suddenly stopped the car and said, “Please wait one minute—I’ll just go greet my mother.” Tears came to my eyes. We were such loving people—faithful to our children, our friends, our kin, and our ancestors. We believed: “If father is pleased and mother is pleased, then Muhammad Mustafa is pleased.”

My writing stops here. There are far more moving lines to write than what I have written, but not everything that should be written can be written. Like Uyghur exiles around the world, Uyghurs in Syria have not yet fully attained peace. There is much that can be said, but even more that cannot, or whose proper expression remains unclear.

Originally, this might have become an English book or program rather than a Uyghur text. I do not know whether this piece will be deleted at someone’s request, or how long it will remain. But I could find no better way to express my gratitude to those kind black-eyed Uyghurs who opened their arms to me, welcomed me in mosques, schools, offices, restaurants, hospitals, shops, factories, and fields, and poured out their hearts to me, though they did not speak English.

References:

1. “(Translator’s note: Refers to the unforgettable moments when Uyghur footballers played against Chinese teams in Ürümchi between 2011–2013, with thousands of Uyghur supporters cheering ‘Hurra!’

Abduweli Ayup is a Uyghur linguist, writer, and human rights researcher, and a member of the Uyghur Post editorial team. He has published numerous books on Uyghur literature and children’s textbooks, and produces reports on Uyghur human rights. He is a leading advocate for Uyghur cultural and linguistic rights.