Ma Zhixiong has been imprisoned once again for printing religious books for the Hui People Muslims in China
In the name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful.
I have heard that Ma Zhixiong has been imprisoned once again for printing religious books for the Huí People.
The charge against him is merely for undertaking the printing of religious books meant for circulation within the Huímín community; his actions were neither intended for profit nor did they harm public order.
However, the Ningxia police and courts have framed a case against him under the name of "illegal publications"—they found the books he printed in the local area and sentenced him to ten months in prison, which is infuriating.
The last time he was imprisoned, under the same charge, he was sentenced to five years (from April 19, 2016, to January 10, 2021). His mother passed away on a public bus while seeking justice for her son.
Looking back at history, the printing of religious literature by the Muslim community has been a vital aspect of its cultural heritage, something that was not interfered with even during the dark times of the Manchu Qing rule.
The Qur'an, books on Islam, and commentaries not only provide guidance for the faith but also construct the collective memory of the community.
Yet, today's Chinese government uses administrative measures to suppress and prohibit this kind of printing activity, treating a cultural act as "illegal," which has gone beyond the proper scope of the law.
The case of Ma Zhixiong reflects a worrying trend in national governance: using administrative controls and judicial intervention to suppress religious and cultural expression, attempting to erase the foundations of diverse cultures with a monolithic mindset, and making the fifty-six vibrant and colorful ethnic groups into uniform, bright red pomegranate seeds.
What is particularly infuriating about this case is how it demonstrates a naked challenge of rule by man against the rule of law.
The Chinese constitution explicitly guarantees citizens' freedom of speech, publication, and belief (Articles 35 and 36), and further stipulates that all ethnic groups have the right to use and develop their own spoken and written languages (Article 4).
In practice, however, these fundamental rights and principles of the rule of law, granted by the constitution, are often rendered meaningless by the arbitrary interpretations of the CCP's administrative bodies.
The printing Ma Zhixiong was involved in neither violated the spirit of the constitution, nor is there any evidence to show that his publications caused any substantial harm to society. The CCP government's actions of convicting and confiscating based on prejudice have neither justification nor legitimacy, and only reveal an abuse of power.
What is even more thought-provoking is how the "Sweep Away Pornography and Illegal Publications" campaign has been quietly extended into the realm of religion and culture.
How did a campaign that was supposed to target pornographic and illegal publications evolve into a tool for suppressing ethnic culture and eroding religious diversity?
The answer perhaps lies in an obsession with control—labeling any expression that does not conform to the official ideology of the Chinese Communist Party as "illegal" or "harmful" for the convenience of governance.
However, this logic of governance is akin to drinking poison to quench a thirst.
Culture and faith are the very foundation of a society's stability; suppressing their diversity will only lead to long-term division and conflict.
Ma Zhixiong's case is not an isolated incident, but an epitome of the oppression that the entire Muslim community has endured in recent years.
The arrest of Imam Ma Yuwei in Yuxi, Yunnan, still echoes in our minds.
Over these years, the religious and cultural activities of the Muslim communities living in mainland China have been repeatedly attacked.
The shutting down of religious printing houses and the confiscation of religious books all indicate that a systematic campaign to purge the cultural heritage of minority ethnic groups is underway.
If this trend is not stopped in time, it will ultimately lead to a repeat of the tragic history of the Cultural Revolution for the Huímín of today.
In recent years, international accusations of "cultural genocide" against China's Muslim communities have been constant, and this case undoubtedly shines a harsh light on the matter.
The ordeal of Ma Zhixiong makes one feel deeply the utter absence of the rule of law in a modern state. When power overrides the law, when individual freedom and the right to ethnic self-governance are stripped away by administrative orders, the so-called "rule of law" becomes nothing but empty talk, forcing us to live once again in the evils of the old society under the guise of its glossy, modern terminology.
Written after the second imprisonment of Ma Zhixiong.
I have heard that Ma Zhixiong has been imprisoned once again for printing religious books for the Huí People.
The charge against him is merely for undertaking the printing of religious books meant for circulation within the Huímín community; his actions were neither intended for profit nor did they harm public order.
However, the Ningxia police and courts have framed a case against him under the name of "illegal publications"—they found the books he printed in the local area and sentenced him to ten months in prison, which is infuriating.
The last time he was imprisoned, under the same charge, he was sentenced to five years (from April 19, 2016, to January 10, 2021). His mother passed away on a public bus while seeking justice for her son.
Looking back at history, the printing of religious literature by the Muslim community has been a vital aspect of its cultural heritage, something that was not interfered with even during the dark times of the Manchu Qing rule.
The Qur'an, books on Islam, and commentaries not only provide guidance for the faith but also construct the collective memory of the community.
Yet, today's Chinese government uses administrative measures to suppress and prohibit this kind of printing activity, treating a cultural act as "illegal," which has gone beyond the proper scope of the law.
The case of Ma Zhixiong reflects a worrying trend in national governance: using administrative controls and judicial intervention to suppress religious and cultural expression, attempting to erase the foundations of diverse cultures with a monolithic mindset, and making the fifty-six vibrant and colorful ethnic groups into uniform, bright red pomegranate seeds.
What is particularly infuriating about this case is how it demonstrates a naked challenge of rule by man against the rule of law.
The Chinese constitution explicitly guarantees citizens' freedom of speech, publication, and belief (Articles 35 and 36), and further stipulates that all ethnic groups have the right to use and develop their own spoken and written languages (Article 4).
In practice, however, these fundamental rights and principles of the rule of law, granted by the constitution, are often rendered meaningless by the arbitrary interpretations of the CCP's administrative bodies.
The printing Ma Zhixiong was involved in neither violated the spirit of the constitution, nor is there any evidence to show that his publications caused any substantial harm to society. The CCP government's actions of convicting and confiscating based on prejudice have neither justification nor legitimacy, and only reveal an abuse of power.
What is even more thought-provoking is how the "Sweep Away Pornography and Illegal Publications" campaign has been quietly extended into the realm of religion and culture.
How did a campaign that was supposed to target pornographic and illegal publications evolve into a tool for suppressing ethnic culture and eroding religious diversity?
The answer perhaps lies in an obsession with control—labeling any expression that does not conform to the official ideology of the Chinese Communist Party as "illegal" or "harmful" for the convenience of governance.
However, this logic of governance is akin to drinking poison to quench a thirst.
Culture and faith are the very foundation of a society's stability; suppressing their diversity will only lead to long-term division and conflict.
Ma Zhixiong's case is not an isolated incident, but an epitome of the oppression that the entire Muslim community has endured in recent years.
The arrest of Imam Ma Yuwei in Yuxi, Yunnan, still echoes in our minds.
Over these years, the religious and cultural activities of the Muslim communities living in mainland China have been repeatedly attacked.
The shutting down of religious printing houses and the confiscation of religious books all indicate that a systematic campaign to purge the cultural heritage of minority ethnic groups is underway.
If this trend is not stopped in time, it will ultimately lead to a repeat of the tragic history of the Cultural Revolution for the Huímín of today.
In recent years, international accusations of "cultural genocide" against China's Muslim communities have been constant, and this case undoubtedly shines a harsh light on the matter.
The ordeal of Ma Zhixiong makes one feel deeply the utter absence of the rule of law in a modern state. When power overrides the law, when individual freedom and the right to ethnic self-governance are stripped away by administrative orders, the so-called "rule of law" becomes nothing but empty talk, forcing us to live once again in the evils of the old society under the guise of its glossy, modern terminology.
Written after the second imprisonment of Ma Zhixiong.
