Long arm of China looms over one of the world’s last Uyghur bookshops

One man’s lonely battle to save the soul of a civilisation

In Abdulla Turkistanli’s bookshop on the outskirts of Istanbul, the owner flits between the shelves and pulls down volumes to give to the children of his regular customers.
Some of them immediately bury their noses in stories of everything from animals to adventures, while others meander down the aisles.
But for Mr Turkistanli, a tall, bearded man with a smile rarely far from his lips, Kutadgu Bilik – which means Divine Knowledge, and is named after an 11th-century epic poem by a renowned Uyghur philosopher – is not just a labour of love but an act of resistance.
It is now one of the world’s last shops selling literature written in the Uyghur language, after China launched its crackdown on the Muslim community that saw more than a million detained and the culture largely eradicated within its borders.
“There are no bookstores like this anywhere in the world, not even in weten,” said Mr Turkistanli, 50, using the Uyghur word for “homeland”.
Many of China’s 12 million Uyghurs, originally from Xinjiang region, have fled the country in the wake of the crackdown. More than 50,000 of them have ended up, like Mr Turkistanli, in Turkey, as Uyghurs have Turkic roots.
But even 3,000 miles away, Mr Turkistanli cannot escape the long shadow of China. His shop faces a struggle with Turkish authorities amid suspicions China is behind a campaign to close it down and extinguish this rare pocket of Uyghur culture.
Mr Turkistanli was not always in the book trade. When he first arrived in 2009, he opened a furniture shop.
As he had space for storage, Uyghurs in Istanbul would often bring him their books – too heavy to take from one place to another, but too precious to leave behind.
Moving companies also began to send him Uyghur books that tenants had left behind in their apartments.
People travelling between China and Turkey also started to deliver volumes. Finally, so massive was the collection, it took over his life.
Just as Beijing’s crackdown on the Uyghurs gathered pace in 2014, he took it upon himself to protect as much of his culture as he could manage.
That year, he gathered the amassed volumes and opened up a small Uyghur bookstore and library, later expanding with a second outpost.
Today, only one remains, in Sefakoy, a bustling Istanbul neighbourhood where many exiled Uyghurs have settled.
In the back, Mr Turkistanli has set up a long table and community library where anyone can visit to read books for free, or borrow selections to peruse at home.
Shelves are lined with Uyghur poetry volumes, such as Ode to My Homeland by exiled poet Abdurehim Imin Parach.
There’s also a collection of works by Abduqadir Jalalidin, a renowned writer “disappeared” by the Chinese state, plus colourful, illustrated children’s novels, titled Where Did the Milk Go?
Much of the Uyghur literature references Chinese oppression.
Parach writes in verse: “I’m going / Carrying with me my love / My longing seeping through incessantly / These emotional minutes, I cannot contain / Homeland! Homeland! Homeland!”
Uchrasqanda, or The Encounter, a popular 1940s poem written by Abdurehim Otkur, considered the father of Uyghur poetry, reads: “I ask, why are you not afraid? She says, I have my God / I ask, what else? She says, I have my people / I ask, what more? She says, I have my soul / I ask, are you content? She says, I am not.”
But keeping the lights on in Kutadgu Bilik is easier said than done.
Even in Turkey, thousands of miles away from Beijing, Mr Turkistanli is still harassed by the Chinese authorities.
Chinese police from his hometown of Hotan, in southern Xinjiang, have called him several times, pressuring him to close.
“They offered to pay me to open a mobile or computer store – anything, but a bookstore,” he told the Telegraph.
“But I told them I wanted nothing to do with them, hung up and changed my number.”
Rune Steenberg, an expert on the Uyghurs and senior researcher at Czechia’s Palacký University Olomouc, said: “Beijing is concerned about the impact of Uyghur identity abroad.
“As they are destroying and forcefully changing Uyghur culture and even history in Xinjiang, the record of what used to be written and known is a constant reminder of their manipulation and of the artificiality of the story they try to establish as truth.”
Mr Turkistanli and other Uyghurs in the diaspora continue to fear that the Chinese government is keeping tabs on them.
This is not unfounded – Uyghurs abroad in Turkey and other countries have told The Telegraph about being forced by Chinese authorities to funnel information back about the diaspora.
State security typically threatens family members remaining in China – if they don’t comply, those relatives could be thrown in prison.
Mr Turkistanli also suspects the Chinese are squeezing Turkish authorities at some level to force him to shut.
On two separate occasions since 2022, he was surprised when Turkish police arrived at his store to confiscate books.
They told him that he was illegally selling pirated books, as he didn’t own the copyrights.
While Mr Turkistanli admitted that was technically true – most of the books had been printed in Xinjiang under the auspices of Chinese state-owned publishing houses, and reprinted privately by him in Turkey – he pleaded with them to allow him to continue.
He said: “I explained to them that this was our culture, our heritage. I don’t have this shop to turn a profit, but rather to keep all this in our community. What I’m doing doesn’t bring harm to anyone. But they wouldn’t listen.”
At least 11,000 of the books in Mr Turkistanli’s shop were seized, and he’s now fighting this in the Turkish courts.
While the Uyghur books Mr Turkistanli stocks were originally printed under the auspices of the Chinese state, they can no longer be found in Xinjiang.
Volumes that cover a vast range of Uyghur history and literature are now banned in China as the government’s crackdown has deepened over the years.
If they disappear from Mr Turkistanli’s store, valuable information and knowledge will essentially cease to exist, spreading Beijing’s campaign of cultural erasure of the Uyghurs beyond Chinese borders.
“We must keep this knowledge alive for future generations,” he said. “Otherwise our children will become completely assimilated elsewhere, and if someday we are able to have our own country, we need to be ready.”
Mr Turkistanli refuses to give up the fight, despite being harassed by the Chinese state for two decades.
In 1995, he was arrested and thrown in prison for 10 years without much of a trial.
No specific reason was given, though he was detained after the authorities discovered he was privately studying the Quran at home.
But he thinks it was because his father had resigned from his government post after Abdulla introduced him to a deeper understanding of Islam.
“After becoming more religious, my father stopped being the head of the village; he stopped working for the government,” said Mr Turkistanli. “As revenge…they imprisoned me for 10 years, because I had ‘turned’ my father religious, they said.”
Then, in 2008, Mr Turkistanli caught wind that the authorities were chasing again – going so far as to attend his father’s funeral in an attempt to arrest him.
Fearing that he wouldn’t survive a second prison stint, Mr Turkistanli clandestinely escaped China by crossing into neighbouring Kyrgyzstan, which meant navigating a mountain range with sky-high passes of 4,000 metres.
“I walked for 23 days, moving only at night, carrying some bread and provisions in my backpack,” he said.
When he finally arrived in Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan, the police caught him, and threw him in prison, where he was tortured and interrogated.
After a year, he begged to be released, and was freed and allowed to board a plane for Istanbul upon paying around $60,000 in bribes.
Luckily, Mr Turkistanli, who had made a small fortune in the jade trade back in China, was able to cough up the money.
Since arriving in Turkey 14 years ago, Mr Turkistanli hasn’t been able to return home to East Turkistan – what Uyghurs prefer to call their homeland, rather than the Chinese name of Xinjiang.
Even returning for a short visit would be too much of a risk. Chinese authorities would likely immediately throw him in prison again.
On most days, he can be found shuffling around his bookstore, ducking out for a bite to eat and daily prayers.
His shop is well-known in the community, a meeting point for the Uyghur diaspora, who flock from all over to visit the store, and those curious about the culture and language.
Someday, if he can afford it, he hopes to turn the entire place into a library, especially as Uyghur authors abroad are now penning new literature.
“These books are the treasures that keep the Uyghur ethnicity alive,” Mr Turkistanli said. “It’s important for all of us, not just Uyghurs – but also the world – to retain this heritage.”