Abstract
Through a narrative retelling of a little known but incredible journey from Xinjiang to New York City made by a group of ethnic Russians in the mid-twentieth century, this article shows how some of the earliest and most poignant manifestations of the Cold War, including nuclear rivalry and espionage, were made evident in Chinese Central Asia. Wrapped up within an intense competition for resources, information, and influence between the United States, the Soviet Union, and two Chinese regimes, the Russians at the heart of this article reveal how the Cold War was a truly global conflict which was intimately experienced by ordinary peoples and often times in the places most far removed. This episode is furthermore a reminder that even if the Cold War did produce stability at the macro-level, the outcomes of the strategic rivalry and competition between the Soviet Union and the United States were violent and tragic, not necessarily or exclusively for these countries but especially for their allies and accomplices.
In Chinese Central Asia, or Xinjiang, the geopolitical and social consequences of the Cold War were manifest. Though Xinjiang is situated far from any political centre, from as early as 1944 it was the site of an intense competition for resources, information, and influence among the United States, the Soviet Union, and two Chinese regimes. Some of the earliest and most poignant manifestations of the Cold War, including nuclear rivalry and espionage, were made evident in Xinjiang. But Chinese Central Asia was not just a Cold War frontline; it was also a Cold War shatter zone. The enmity among and competition between the great powers, once entangled with the region's political landscape, affected countless lives in Xinjiang, producing severe social displacement and dislocation. Though rarely associated with Soviet-American rivalry, Chinese Central Asia is representative of how the Cold War was a truly global conflict which was intimately experienced by ordinary peoples and often times in the places most far removed.2
Emblematic of Chinese Central Asia's tumultuous encounters with the Cold War, in the late 1940s and early 1950s a group of ethnic Russians from Xinjiang endured extreme physical and emotional harm as a result of their interactions with the United States, the Soviet Union, the Guomindang (GMD), and the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). Described as ‘stocky and weather-beaten’ by the New York Times, the group arrived on America's eastern seaboard in March 1952.3 They had canvassed Xinjiang and Tibet on foot and horseback, staving off hunger, brutal environments, and attacks by Chinese, Soviet, Mongolian, and Tibetan groups along the way. Though more than 100 Russians from Xinjiang set out with this group initially in 1947, less than 25 ever arrived in the United States. The others perished.
Dubbed an ‘epic escape from reds’ culminating in ‘freedom and an English lesson’ by Life magazine, this was not simply an attempt to evade the iron curtain.4 Rather, it was the group's association with the Central Intelligence Agency's (CIA) man on the ground in Xinjiang, Douglas Mackiernan, which caused them to first nearly die on the Central Asian steppe and later to come to the United States. Mackiernan had been dispatched to the region by the CIA in 1947 to track the Soviet nuclear program, and his clandestine work was ably supported by these Russians. When the American mission in Xinjiang was abruptly shuttered in 1949, the Russians chose to follow Mackiernan but were soon left behind and forced to fend for themselves in hostile territory. Though they were the subject of many newspaper articles and broadcasts, the fact that these Russians worked closely with a member of America's intelligence forces – the first to die in the line of duty no less – was never revealed to the American public.5
Through a narrative retelling of this journey to the United States, I argue that the ‘struggle for the soul of mankind’ came early to Xinjiang.6 Beyond describing the extensive reach of the Cold War, this story also demonstrates the limitations of the ‘long peace’ paradigm.7 Though the Cold War did produce stability at the macro-level, the outcomes of the strategic rivalry and competition between the Soviet Union and the United States were violent and tragic not necessarily or exclusively for the citizens of these countries but especially for their allies and accomplices. Turning to the history of the ‘New Frontier’ itself, the experiences of this group of Russians also helps to establish how events transpiring in Xinjiang have corresponded to, connected to, and even influenced events at the national and international levels.8 Commensurate with Xinjiang's past as an ancient and important ‘crossroads’ of empires, societies, and peoples, this article, then, embarks upon a historiographic turn in which Xinjiang's twentieth century is embedded within a global current.9
Beginnings
The 22 Russians who came to the United States in 1952 had deep roots in northwest China. Though several large waves of Russian refugees fled to Xinjiang during the Russian Civil War and during the era of Soviet collectivisation, the group members here (or their predecessors) had mostly arrived in the late nineteenth century.10 The survivor whom I interviewed, an aging but lucid man named Kiprian Chanov, was born in Xinjiang in 1926, and he believes that his family arrived in the region in the late nineteenth century in search of either economic opportunity or religious freedom.
In the first half of the twentieth century, the Russians of Xinjiang were widely regarded as one of the most well-to-do and highly educated peoples in this diverse province.11 Often stereotyped as having great technical know-how and military expertise, Owen Lattimore once commented that ‘the Russians have been useful both in time of peace and in periods of internal strife.’12 It is not surprising, then, that nearly all of the Russians who came to the United States in 1952 were veterans of the military in Xinjiang.13 Kiprian, for example, finished school in 1944 and, at the age of 18 decided to join the Chinese army.14
When Kiprian enlisted, Xinjiang was still under the nominal control of Chinese warlord Sheng Shicai, but opposition against Sheng was growing within Xinjiang, across China, and even abroad.15 Not only was Sheng's viciousness as a leader unmatched in Xinjiang's recent history, the logic of his diplomatic behaviour, as he forged and then promptly abandoned an alliance with the Soviet Union, was also difficult to follow.16 As Sheng attempted to play politics on the national and international stages, local resentment soon boiled over into outright rebellion in the far north of the province. Much of the resistance against Sheng's authoritarian regime emanated from a Kazakh nomad named Osman Batur, or ‘Osman the Hero.’ Too many myths surround Osman to judge the man on an even keel (upon meeting Osman, the American author A. Doak Barnett wrote that he was ‘a huge man with a tremendous frame, ham-like hands, and a terrific ego’), but we do know that by the time he was in his forties he had amassed a legion of Kazakh followers and cavalrymen, whom Kiprian referred to only as ‘bandits.’17 Osman was a skilled vigilante, a fickle partner, and a commanding presence, at least before his downfall in 1950.
Osman was soon joined by other rebels in northern Xinjiang. Centred in the three districts of Ghulja, Qoqek, and Altai, groups of Kazakhs, Uyghurs, and others gathered together to push Sheng Shicai and his Chinese Nationalist forces beyond the Manas River in autumn 1944. Adding to this loose local coalition, Osman and the rebels entered into an informal alliance with the Soviet Union, acquiring weapons and other crucial war materials from Moscow.18 The Chinese Nationalist Government's positions in northern Xinjiang were swiftly overrun and a new, nominally independent state, the East Turkestan Republic (ETR), was established on November 12, 1944.19 Kiprian was no longer inside of Nationalist China.
Though the Russians had fared badly at the hands of Muslim militias in the past and were naturally skeptical of Osman, they were greatly outnumbered by ETR forces.20 After a momentary flirtation with resistance, the Russians surrendered and then offered their services to the new military arm of the ETR. Quick to change sides in the ongoing war, Kiprian later rationalised that he had been ‘born in Turkestan [Xinjiang]’ and was happy ‘defending [his] fatherland’ as long as he and his family could continue to tend to their farm and small distillery.21
Kiprian's pragmatism, however, was soon challenged by the abrasiveness of Soviet policy. Though Stalin did not foment a communist revolution in northern Xinjiang in the 1940s, he did seek a pliant regime on the soft underbelly of Soviet Russia. When Sheng Shicai and the Guomindang did not offer the security guarantees and economic concessions that Stalin desired, the Soviet Union began to bankroll and micromanage much of the war effort in autumn 1944.22 Soviet foreign policy in the ETR, then, generally fits the verdict offered by Melvyn Leffler: Stalin's overarching priority during the early Cold War was the ‘reconstruction of Soviet Russia and protection of its frontiers.’23
The Soviets were particularly mindful that the ethnic Russians of Xinjiang, if repatriated, could provide much needed manpower for a country stricken by labour shortages.24 Moreover, the Soviet Union may have also worried about a potential fifth column cropping up in the ETR, as many of the Russians in the region were post-1917 arrivals.25 The Soviet Union therefore sought to tightly control the ethnic Russian community in the ETR and explicitly pressured Russians to adopt Soviet citizenship.26 By promising exemption from military service in the ETR, Soviet diplomats succeeded in their goal to a great extent. But for Kiprian and many of his close associates, healthy scepticism and fears of the ubiquitous gulag characterised their responses to this Soviet offer. Kiprian rejected Soviet citizenship.
As Kiprian chafed under the heavy hand of the Soviets, Osman Batur's alliance with the ETR and the Soviet Union also teetered on the brink. Osman apparently suspected that, rather than genuinely supporting an independent state in Central Asia, the Soviets had ulterior motives for backing the ETR, and he ended the informal alliance in 1946. Surprisingly, Osman then turned to the Chinese Nationalist Government for support.27 Though strange bedfellows, Osman and the GMD shared the same immediate goal: to expel the Soviets from Xinjiang.
As political alliances dissolved into one another, the Russians who refused Soviet citizenship evinced a remarkable reluctance to continue fighting on behalf of the ETR. When Osman returned to the political scene in autumn 1947 – Nationalist weaponry in tow – and reoccupied many counties in the ETR, the Russians chose to surrender once again.28 But by raising the white flag against Osman, the Russians had, once and for all, decisively compromised their relationship with the ETR and, even more importantly, Moscow.
East Turkestani soldiers, allegedly backed by armoured cars sent from the Soviet Union, immediately mounted a heady assault on Osman's forces.29 Not the fearless Batur he is often made out to be, Osman was not in a fighting spirit in September 1947 and he promptly abandoned the region. The Russian soldiers, suspecting that they were now also among enemy targets, decided to flee south and merge with Osman's cavalry. In the chaotic hours that followed this decision, Kiprian attempted to return home to gather his belongings and warn his family that they should run away. But before he could do so, a friend and fellow soldier warned him that there was not enough time, rationalising, in any case, that ‘they would be able to return to the village in five or six days’ after Nationalist forces repelled the ETR attack.30 Kiprian, however, would never see or hear from his family again. His native place became but a bittersweet memory.
The Russians, who then numbered 115 men and two women, soon retreated from northern Xinjiang.31 It took several weeks – during which they were allegedly chased by soldiers of the Mongolian People's Republic – before the group found even a trace of Osman's cavalry and a small camp of Nationalist soldiers, neither of whom looked prepared to launch a major offensive against the ETR.32 Though the Russians were sorely disappointed, they welcomed the flour offered up by the GMD troops (after an unsuccessful attempt at fishing with grenades, Kiprian later recalled that this food was especially welcomed).33 Moreover, because the Nationalists believed that the Russians could provide updated intelligence on the military and political situation in the ETR, they were invited to take shelter in Guchung (Qitai), a city just east of the provincial capital, Urumqi.34 Once nestled into their new homes, the Russians would continue to serve as soldiers, only now under the supervision of the Guomindang and assigned directly to Osman Batur.35
Displaced and dislocated, Kiprian had already by 1947 felt the push of the Soviet Union's post-war strategy in Chinese Central Asia. The emergence of mutual hostility between the Soviet Union and the United States in the region – most visible in the realms of espionage and nuclear rivalry – would shake Xinjiang and its peoples further, however.
The Rugged Pioneer
Though the Russians had not yet left Xinjiang, in April 1949 they were introduced to the American public for the first time. Walter Sullivan of the New York Times had trekked all the way to Urumqi to visit Osman Batur's camp, but not before he encountered ‘blond youths and men with Czarist beards in the padded uniforms of the Chinese Army.’ The Russians, armed and on horseback, guided a curious Sullivan to meet Osman. The sea of yurts and the insistence on following Kazakh guest ritual was ‘like a return to the days of Hunnish and Mongolian hordes’ for Sullivan, but, ancient parallels aside, the reporter was interested in hearing Osman's views on the Chinese Civil War. Unfazed, Osman – ‘a big man with hands tremendous for a Central Asian’ – declared that he would always resist communism, whether Soviet or Chinese.36 Osman apparently knew what his audience in the United States wanted to hear. More importantly, he was also speaking to the interests of American officials stationed inside of Chinese Central Asia, allies he hoped would offer both verbal support and material assistance for his struggle.
Relative to the Soviet Union, the United States was a latecomer to Xinjiang. It was only during the two-year span between Sheng Shicai's rapprochement with Chongqing and his ouster by the Guomindang in August 1944 that the United States had been invited to open a consulate in Urumqi.37 Surprisingly, scholars have questioned the Department of State's decision to do so. Xiaoyuan Liu has gone so far as to suggest that the U.S. had no ‘tangible interests in and necessary knowledge about Chinese Central Asia’ during this period.38 Liu is certainly right that the U.S. had no formal stake in Xinjiang; contemporaneous diplomatic reportage is also forthcoming about the fact that there were no Americans living in Xinjiang and that no economic ties bound the United States to the region. John J. Muccio, a diplomatic inspector from the Department of State, wrote after his visit to Urumqi in May 1948 that ‘no citizenship work exists as there are no recognized American residents in the district;’ that ‘no immigration work exists here as Tihwa [Urumqi] is not a visa issuing post;’ and that there was ‘no opportunity for positive trade promotion activities’ in Xinjiang.39
The U.S. Consulate in Urumqi was a Cold War outpost intended to monitor the Soviet Union. Muccio, a budget cruncher for the State Department, certainly knew the intrinsic value and importance of the post, even if its upkeep was expensive. ‘[Urumqi] is primarily a political listening post,’ Muccio wrote, and ‘the prime function of the Consulate…[is] to keep the Embassy and the Department fully and currently informed of the activities of the Soviets in the first instance, and of the Chinese, British and recently freed Pakistan and India.’40 Muccio's conclusions were apt, though he likely did not know the true extent of the United States' Cold War agenda in Xinjiang. After all, the Central Intelligence Agency had secretly dispatched an agent, Douglas Mackiernan, to the steppe in 1947.
Mackiernan was a complex character. At times hard to read, Mackiernan could also be quite charming. Studious and well-read, he was, of course, also notoriously secretive. He was fluent in Russian and had worked in Urumqi once before as a cryptanalysis officer for the U.S. military. Delighted to return to the steppe, Mackiernan was apparently well suited for Xinjiang's tough environs. Though John Hall Paxton, the U.S. Consul General, had difficulty establishing a rapport with Mackiernan, he told Muccio that Mackiernan was the only ‘American [who] should be left at Tihwa for more than two years’ because of his ‘unusual knack of being able to live under rugged pioneer conditions and still retain a normal American outlook.’ Though he complained that Mackiernan had ‘neither training nor aptitude for routine paper work,’ Paxton reconciled that ‘his other qualifications…provide so rare a combination for the needs of this post.’ Muccio concurred: ‘Mackiernan is eminently qualified for this work. He is a ‘natural’ for Sinkiang [Xinjiang].’41
Hired as a clerk inside the U.S. Consulate to disguise his clandestine portfolio, Mackiernan remains a contentious figure in American and Chinese historiography.42 His work on behalf of the CIA is shrouded in mystery even today, but in 1948 the Russians were simply impressed by Mackiernan's fluency in their native language. Drawn to Mackiernan for self-serving reasons, the group believed it would be good to have a Russian-speaking ally inside the U.S. Consulate and they used Mackiernan as a sounding board for their ideas and plans. In one case, Sidor Belov, a survivor who later came to the United States, paid a visit to Mackiernan in April 1948 and revealed that the Russians wished to return to northern Xinjiang to ‘liberate their families.’43 Kiprian later told journalist William Lindsey White that ‘we considered him [Mackiernan] as our friend’ because ‘[we] were completely alone in the world.’44
Communications between Mackiernan and the Russians accelerated after the encounter with Belov,45 and John J. Muccio wrote not long after that ‘the Consulate has taken discreetly informal interest in the problems of the White Russian refugees…and has received no little good will and considerable valuable background information on political conditions as a result.’46 ‘Informal was a vast understatement. At a time when the atomic bomb was crystallising as the major issue in Soviet-American relations, Mackiernan was secretly arranging for the Russians to carry out scouting missions of Soviet mining sites on his behalf.47 In summer 1949, for example, Mackiernan visited the Russians’ camp and asked a small group to quietly travel back into Altai.48 According to Chinese sources, Mackiernan issued a fourteen-point set of instructions for the expedition, a document which was allegedly recovered by officials in the ETR. Up to seven Russians, using ammunition purchased by Mackiernan in one of Urumqi's bazaars, left camp in early July 1949, but, after the group crossed into the ETR, at least four of the men were killed or captured.49 The return trip was no more successful for the remaining Russian scouts, and only one man, Ivan Sevilanov, survived to tell Mackiernan that the Soviets were mining uranium, beryl, and other strategic materials in the ETR.50 Though the American public would never learn that the Russians had been associated with the Central Intelligence Agency's nuclear espionage, this knowledge was well known by the Soviets and the Chinese. Following the arrival of the CCP in Xinjiang in late 1949, the Soviets anxiously informed communist officials of this incident, stating that ‘an American’ had recently sent a group to ‘attack a Soviet geological expedition’ in the north.51
The U.S. was eager to anticipate the emergence of the Soviet nuclear state, and this overarching foreign policy priority extended into Xinjiang. Beyond the firestorm which would encumber Washington, D.C. in September 1949 following the first Soviet atomic test, there was a physical toll which had already been taken: several Russians had died as a consequence of the strategic rivalry between the United States and the Soviet Union. Though Kiprian and the Russians were drawn to the rugged pioneer for self-serving reasons, the blood debts owed by Mackiernan would be difficult to repay.
Disappearing Acts
The ties between the Russians and Mackiernan ran deep by 1949, but the rapidly changing political situation in China complicated the future of this relationship. As the tide shifted in the Chinese Civil War, the United States would choose to abandon its strategic objectives in Xinjiang. Its mission in Chinese Central Asia was over, but not quite accomplished; now was simply the time to get out.
As the People's Liberation Army (PLA) inched closer to Xinjiang in September 1949, Kiprian recalled that the local government in Urumqi seemed poised to either surrender to the CCP or fall to the East Turkestan Republic.52 The Russians had to carefully consider their future, and the group fluctuated between surrender, flight, and resistance. Though nominally under the command of a Chinese general named Ma Chengxiang and informally beholden to Osman Batur, the Russians looked primarily to Mackiernan for advice and guidance at this time.
Aided by a newly arrived Fulbright Scholar and onetime agent of the Office of Strategic Services, Frank Bessac, Mackiernan was busy torching the U.S. Consulate's archives in September 1949.53 As the furnace smouldered, Mackiernan counselled the Russians, even trying to obtain assistance from the Department of State to fly the group out of Xinjiang.54 But Xinjiang, far removed from Shanghai, the hub of China's post-World War II refugee activity, complicated the State Department's efforts to secure aid through the International Refugee Organization (IRO).55 The IRO had been founded by the United Nations in 1946 to take charge over refugee-related problems stemming from World War II, but its portfolio was too large for the agency to effectively lend support to all displaced persons around the globe.56 Furthermore, the State Department could not send its own transport plane to Urumqi to receive Mackiernan and the Russians, given that thousands of PLA troops were then at Xinjiang's doorstep. One U.S. official, recognising that a successful evacuation was doubtful, concluded that ‘two hundred people are as important as 2000 in Shanghai, but at what point do we recognize limitations?’57
As the CCP announced the ‘peaceful liberation’ (heping jiefang) of Xinjiang in October 1949, the Russians decided to rendezvous with Douglas Mackiernan and Osman Batur outside of Urumqi. The entire group then chose to move toward Barkol, a high-altitude lake on the mountainous outskirts of Qumul and not too far from Xinjiang's border with Mongolia.58 Though many of the Russians were glad to join Mackiernan, Kiprian, in retrospect, recognised that joining Mackiernan may have adversely affected the group's future: ‘why they came, I don't know…If they didn't come, we probably go nowhere [sic].’59
During the eighteen-day march toward the lake, local officials often approached Osman to gauge his intentions, but Osman insisted that he merely wanted his sheep to have access to good pastures. When these same officials inquired about the presence of the Russians, apparently a well-known military force across Xinjiang, Osman said that they were his ‘trophies of war’ and he was entitled to bring them to Barkol.60 The Russians, however, objected to Osman's caricatures, believing that, at this point, they were partners with Mackiernan only. Kiprian placed deep trust in Mackiernan, who bought the group food and clothing and even announced that ‘we can always lose Osman’ if the situation required.61
The caravan of Kazakhs, Russians, and Americans arrived in Lake Barkol on October, 15, 1949, immediately drawing the alarm of the local government.62 The mayor of Barkol, Wang Dongyang, was particularly on edge: he did not want to anger the fiery Osman or upset his new patrons in the Chinese Communist Party. When two of the Russians broke away from camp to purchase flour in town, Wang reluctantly agreed to do so, but insisted that the group ‘cannot rob the people’ (buneng qiangjie baixing) or conduct anti-communist activities.63
Wang visited Osman's camp personally on October 25 to speak with the Batur. While the Russians were visible in plain sight, Mackiernan stayed hidden inside of his tent to avoid drawing any attention.64 Though Osman stressed to Wang that he was merely in Barkol for the pastures, Osman's pleas did not stop additional delegations from coming in the weeks that followed.65 As these visits intensified, Frank Bessac became visibly apprehensive. Though he had once served in the Office of Strategic Services, Bessac was then purely an academic, and a nearly blind one at that. Bessac simply could not discern what Mackiernan hoped to gain from staying in Barkol, particularly as the CCP began to infiltrate the region.66
The Russians expected to join Mackiernan regardless of when he departed from Barkol, believing that he had obtained approval from Washington to do so.67 But when Mackiernan finally acceded to Bessac's requests to leave Xinjiang, Osman Batur objected to the Russians going too. Osman exclaimed that ‘nobody will stay with me’ and ‘I, Osman, will be in great danger.’68 Mackiernan was unwilling to argue with Osman, or perhaps he simply agreed that it would be best for the Russians to stay. Though the Russians remained convinced that Mackiernan had fought on their behalf, Osman later claimed – after being captured by the PLA – that it was Mackiernan who insisted the Russians stay at camp. According to his confession, Mackiernan asked Osman to come to the United States, but as Osman wanted to remain in his homeland, Mackiernan volunteered the Russians to serve as his security forces.69 Whatever the real story, the Russians were staying in Barkol.
After Mackiernan's delegation left on October 29, 1949, the relationship between the Russians and Osman quickly soured. After an incident in which one of the Russians was caught stealing and then shot and killed by a Han Chinese man, Mayor Wang visited Osman's camp again on November 24. Wang was now especially uneasy about the Russians, and during his visit he noted that they had knives and machine guns on their persons.70 After Wang's departure, then, Osman called a meeting of the Russians to forcefully remove their weapons.71 The Russians were angry but helpless. Kiprian even broke into tears, exclaiming to his friend, ‘Don't you remember 1933? The Dunggans [Hui Muslims] killed all the [Russian] families because they had no rifles. Now they are coming to kill us!’72
Osman soon decided to move the entire camp northeast of Barkol to Beishan, or the North Mountains, hoping to find fresh winter pastures. The move was also a strategic decision, as Osman believed that Chinese troops would have more difficulty reaching his caravan on higher grounds if a war was to break out. But the move to Beishan did not end the official visits, and on November 25, Xinjiang's Provincial Party Secretary Wang Zhen had a letter delivered to Osman.73 Wang Zhen's emissaries tried to bargain with Osman, offering a governing post in either Urumqi or his native Altai in exchange for recognition of the CCP government. While Osman entertained the delegation (allegedly slaughtering four sheep for the occasion), he did not respond to the deal. Instead, Osman continued to buy time by sending and receiving delegations until at least mid-December 1949.74 The CCP's patience, however, was coming to an end.
To Die on the Steppe
The geostrategic contest between the Soviet Union and the United States in Chinese Central Asia arguably ended with the arrival of the People's Liberation Army in autumn 1949, but total victory remained elusive for the Chinese and Soviets. Alarmed that Mackiernan had been missing since late September 1949, on November 29 the CCP sent out an internal missive requesting information as to his whereabouts. Zhou Enlai, the Premier of the newly founded People's Republic, instructed every county government in Xinjiang to ‘investigate and seek [him] out.’75
Zhou's concerns about a citizen of an enemy nation missing deep inside of Chinese territory were heightened in December 1949 and January 1950 after two, if not three, Russians broke away from Osman's camp and either surrendered to or were taken into custody by the CCP in Barkol.76 Using testimonies offered up by these Russians, the People's Daily began to report that Mackiernan had been paying Osman Batur and other Kazakh chiefs to openly resist the PLA.77 Burhan Shähidi, the Governor of Xinjiang under the Guomindang and then the Chairman of the Provincial Government under the CCP, also cited Mackiernan's role in instigating unrest in Chinese Central Asia, stating that Mackiernan had given gold to Osman and his White Russian guards as ‘capital for a rebellion’ (panluan de ziben).78 Not just propaganda meant for public consumption, the Russian testimonies were also recycled into internal reports produced by and for the Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs about Mackiernan's illegal activities.79
With Douglas Mackiernan still on the loose, the Chinese government turned to his prickly and uncooperative allies, Osman Batur and the Russians. Beginning in April 1950, the CCP would execute a brutal but essentially undeclared war on the Central Asian steppe. Though anything but a united front characterised the inter-group dynamic between Osman and the Russians, in Chinese reports and newspaper articles, the Russians were still referred to as Osman's ‘White Russian armed guards’ (bai E weidui), his ‘White Russian army’ (bai E jun), and his ‘Naturalized Army’ (guihuajun). The Russians would not escape the PLA war machine unscathed.
Under Wang Zhen's leadership, the People's Liberation Army in Xinjiang assembled 10,000 troops into ‘Bandit Suppression Units’ (jiaofei budui) in March 1950.80 Commander Wang announced to his agile military forces on March 16 that they should be prepared to ‘kill or capture the bandit chieftain Osman and the White Russians.’81 The Bandit Suppression Units were ready to pounce at a moment's notice, and the arrival at Osman's camp in late March 1950 of the aged Yolbars Khan, the former Uyghur governor of Qumul and a vocal detractor of the CCP, provided the proper pretext for the formal beginning of war.
The PLA believed that the meeting between Osman and Yolbars signaled the emergence of a unified and ultimately more dangerous resistance movement in Xinjiang.82 Had the army spoke with Yolbars himself, it probably would have gathered the same impression. According to testimony which Yolbars later offered in Taiwan, he and Osman had decided to join together and fight against the PLA. The duo planned to first destroy transportation and communications infrastructure in the important Urumqi–Qumul–Barkol–Guchung corridor in eastern Xinjiang, thus stymying the PLA's war efforts.83 Yolbars did have more than 700 Hui Muslim troops under his command and he was clearly capable of making a lot of noise, but the PLA overestimated his capabilities. To Kiprian, he was simply an ‘old man’ with a ‘big beard.’84 More important than appearances, Yolbars had in fact left Osman's camp completely empty-handed. Though Osman was generous in his reception of Yolbars, the Kazakh chief opposed Yolbars' adventurism.85 Chinese intelligence, however, could not discern the split that had taken place.
Kiprian, meanwhile, had grown extremely restless, believing that Osman's unwillingness to either cooperate with the CCP or flee the region had put the entire camp at risk. Though nearly all of the Russians considered fleeing from Xinjiang, in early April a smaller group of 22 announced that they would be leaving camp. As Kiprian would later recall, it was a consequential but fateful act. On or around April 19, the PLA began its assault on Osman Batur's forces. According to Chinese sources, a fierce snowstorm had slowed down the PLA's approach to Osman's camp at Hongliuxia, but because a handful of the crack Russian troops had ‘escaped’ (taocuan), the PLA was in a better position to attack Osman once the weather cleared.86 Through combined attacks on Osman's forces at Da Hongliuxia, Xiao Hongliuxia, and Tiaohu, the PLA ‘killed’ (bishang) 100 men and took 4,000 prisoners. The remainder of Osman's troops fled north toward Zhifang and Da Jijitai, while Wang Zhen's troops continued to establish their defenses across the region (between Xingxingxia, Qumul, Barkol, Qijiaojing, Guchung, Turpan, Shanshan, and Dabancheng).87 A PLA report written in May 1950 revealed that, during this initial attack, approximately 40 Russians had been killed and Osman's soldiers, scattered and decimated, had shrunk to as few as only 300 troops.88
The 40 escapees, upon witnessing the PLA swarm from high in the hills, decided to turn west and hike toward Qumul, where they believed Yolbars Khan was safe and in hiding.89 Though the Russians suspected that the PLA had not been fighting a two-pronged war against both Osman and Yolbars, they soon discovered that the former Uyghur governor had fared no better. Yolbars later wrote that, by June 1950, he had been the target of six separate campaigns waged by the PLA's Bandit Suppression Units.90 The last and perhaps largest engagement with the PLA came only after the Russians arrived at Yolbars' camp. Yolbars later offered the outlandish claim to Taiwanese intelligence officials that he and his men were surrounded by 16,000 PLA troops, which were augmented by Soviet and Outer Mongolian forces. Yolbars, framing himself as a masterful military tactician, recognised the ‘great disparity in numerical strength’ (zhonggua xuanshu) and planned to retreat up into the highest peaks surrounding Qumul.91
Kiprian's account softens Yolbars' heroics. While the Russians and Yolbars' forces fought back, Kiprian later revealed that ‘after a couple of hours [they] realized that the Communist troops far outnumbered their forces and they had to run for their lives.’ Kiprian, who spoke a spattering of Uyghur, pleaded with Yolbars that ‘I am not a coward, but I cannot hold them [the PLA]’ back.92 Though Yolbars was persuaded to run, most of his cavalry units were killed in this battle; others were taken prisoner and publicly executed in November 1950.93 Yolbars now had perhaps only fifty Hui soldiers, and his ammunition and food supplies were dangerously low. His horses and camels were exhausted and malnourished, and many were dying.94
Just as the situation appeared to be at its worst for the Russians, a battered and bruised Osman Batur reappeared in late July 1950. Contemporary PLA intelligence estimates reported that Osman's reunion with Yolbars and the Russians was an indication that they would continue to offer resistance, but Kiprian recalled that Osman ‘looked very miserable’ – his cavalry had been depleted, he had only a handful horses left, and he had very few followers left with him.95 According to survivor Sidor Belov, Osman's camp ‘now looked like the most poverty stricken tribe.’96
Osman's return did not lift group morale by any measure, but the reunion was at least an opportunity for the escapees to learn what may have happened to the other Russian soldiers. Osman admitted that ‘he did not know about the fate of the Russians,’ though they ‘were with his troops in the front line fighting.’ Moreover, he had seen ‘the horse of the Commander, Samuelov, dead with a body lying near which he thought might be Samuelov.’97 Realising that they would never see their friends and families again, the group continued to march onward to the Xinjiang-Qinghai border. PLA convoys were never far off in the distance, and sleepless nights became the norm.
To Tibet and Beyond
In April 1950, Douglas Mackiernan approached a group of Tibetan border guards. Frank Bessac was on the other side of their campsite and, though nearly blind and exhausted from a dangerous trek across the Changtang Plateau, he overheard the entire encounter between Mackiernan and the Tibetans. Most of what he heard, however, was gunshots. At first, Bessac was unsure of what had just happened, but the Tibetans soon approached and tied him up. Bessac frantically began to speak Chinese, Mongolian, and English towards the Tibetans, but there were no responses. From the jarring silence, Bessac could tell what had happened: Mackiernan was dead.98
In summer 1950, the Russians did not know of Mackiernan's fate, or of the possibility that something similar could befall them. Regardless, they probably would not have been deterred from making a similar turn toward the Tibetan Plateau. Recognising the urgency of leaving Chinese Communist occupied territory, the group parted ways with Osman Batur and Yolbars Khan in late summer 1950. After crossing the Yangtze River, the Russians encountered hostile Golok peoples near the Qinghai-Tibetan border, watched their camels die, and trembled as both food supplies and the air thinned out. The difficult journey effaced the group's morale, but they carried onward, uncertain of the final destination.99 The Tolstoy Foundation News later published an account of this stretch in colourful but not wholly inaccurate terms:
For four days and four nights they walked across a part of the Gobi Desert. They attached water-bags made of lambskin to the camels for water supply for themselves and the camels. On the boundary of Chin-Hei [Qinghai] and Tibet they sighted the Tibetan border guards and realized that the war for them was finished.100
By July 18, 1951, the Russians were in Kalimpong, India. Though outside of Chinese territory, Kiprian still had to worry about his future. The group met H.R.H. Prince Peter of Greece and Denmark, a scholar of Tibetan anthropology, who later wrote that ‘local propaganda [in Kalimpong] accused them of being ‘Anglo-American agents who had sabotaged the Russian and Chinese people's revolutions’.’101 According to the U.S. Consulate, rumours also spread that the Soviets were prepared to ‘transmit an invitation to them to proceed to the USSR via a ship from Calcutta at the expense of the Soviet government.’ When sending the Russians' names and dates of birth to the Department of State, Evan M. Wilson, an official at the American Embassy, demanded that ‘every effort should be made to the prevent the list of names enclosed from falling into Communist hands.’102 A contentious but in fact harmless group, the Russians' presence on Indian soil also prompted debates among Indian parliamentarians and the Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru.103
The Russians shortly moved onto Calcutta, where they met the first American officials they had seen since October 1949.104 One of these officials, William G. Gibson, wrote that:
It is believed that the detailed story of their four year trek from Altai to India will be of interest to the Department since it contains much information about Communist activities and the warfare which was going on at that time in the region north of Tibet. The Department may also be interested in that part of their story which concerns the movements of Vice Consul Douglas Mackiernan, who was with them for some time and with whom one of their members came to Tibet and eventually to India and the United States.105
As the local government put pressure on the Russians to leave Indian territory as soon as possible, the Russians began to directly interface with the IRO and requested that the organisation reconsider their request for resettlement assistance:
We 23 Russian refugees from Altai, Central Asia, who arrived in India on July 18 after four years journeying from Altai across Gobi Desert and Tibet, request the assistance of your organization in finding us a place to live in a friendly non-Communist country. We are all able bodied agriculturalists, 21 men and 2 women, are completely destitute and presently living in Calcutta on the kindness of private citizens here.108
With IRO assistance not forthcoming, the U.S.-based Tolstoy Foundation entered the fray, offering to partially sponsor the Russians, contingent on their eligibility for U.S. visas and IRO support.111 In response to the private initiative, the U.S. government began a much delayed campaign to lobby the IRO, with James E. Webb, an Undersecretary in the Department of State, announcing that, ‘in view of considerable public interest in these anti-Communist refugees who braved a long and difficult journey to India, and because of their difficult situation in India where the government is already stressed by a serious native refugee problem, the Department is anxious to determine whether IRO transportation will be available to these refugees.’112
Two-and-a-half years after leaving Urumqi and six months since arriving in India, the Russians finally received positive news in February 1952: the IRO, the Tolstoy Foundation, and the Department of State had reached an agreement to transport and resettle the Russians to inside of the United States. The Russians left Calcutta and were flown to Hamburg, Germany on March 14, where they boarded a ship bound for the United States.113 It seemed that their strange journey had come to an end.
Conclusion
On March 28, 1952, the surviving Russians arrived in New York City aboard the SS General Taylor.114 Though the group promptly left the bustling city for the Tolstoy Foundation's headquarters in quiet Valley Cottage, New York, they were still greeted with great fanfare by the U.S. media, with profiles appearing in The New York Times, The Washington Post, and Life, among other media outlets. After becoming acclimatised to life in the United States, the survivors settled down for careers as carpenters and factory workers in places like rural Oregon and Cleveland, Ohio. Their final moment of fame came in 1956, when two of the survivors, including Kiprian, were guests on the popular NBC television show This Is Your Life.115 Despite the deep curiosity expressed toward the Russians by the American public, their story was greatly misrepresented in the U.S. media. Rather than a desire for American freedom, it was the group's association with the CIA's man on the ground in Xinjiang which caused them to risk dying on the Central Asian steppe and to ultimately come to the United States.
Though Xinjiang is far removed from Washington, Moscow, and Beijing, this distance did not stop great power rivalry from creeping into Chinese Central Asia, even at an early stage of the Cold War. The site of an intense competition for resources, information, and influence, Xinjiang was of course not the main theatre of the Cold War, but this does not mean it was unimportant. The interactions between the United States, the Soviet Union, and China in this region furthered mistrust and animosity between the two Cold War camps, making relations all the more acrimonious. And though Xinjiang's entanglement with the Soviet–American rivalry largely ceased after 1952, the Cold War in Chinese Central Asia did not disappear from sight.116
Perhaps more importantly, this episode in Xinjiang's history reveals how ordinary people in the most distant of regions interacted with and were affected by this great political, military, and ideological conflict. Though the trilateral struggle described above was short-lived, lasting less than a decade, its social consequences were not so brief. My interviewee, Kiprian, found safe-haven in the United States in 1952, but at a great cost. Most of the people he had set out with in 1947 did not survive this journey, and he never saw his home or his family again. ‘It shouldn't have happened, but it did happen,’ Kiprian, late in his life and his beard thick, grizzled, and grey, told me. Anything but a ‘long peace,’ the Cold War shaped Kiprian's life in profound and irreparable ways.
Kiprian Chanov and his family are due special thanks from the author, particularly for their willingness to open up to a stranger. Edward McCord, Gregg Brazinsky, Christian Ostermann, Meredith Oyen, Justin Jacobs, Tanya Harmer, Matthew Kraus, and Eric Setzekorn also helped to nudge this research along through their straightforward questions, honest criticisms, and cheerful encouragement.
Notes
1 My title is drawn from H.R.H. Prince Peter of Greece, “A Russian Exodus from Sinkiang,” Journal of The Royal Central Asian Society 38, no. 4 (1951): 261–266, who wrote that the Russians at the heart of this paper “preferred the risk of ‘dying in the steppe’” to remaining under communist rule. I am not necessarily sympathetic to Prince Peter's interpretation, only to his turn of phrase.
2 See Odd Arne Westad, The Global Cold War: Third World Interventions and the Making of Our Times (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005); Michael Szonyi, Cold War Island: Quemoy on the Front Line (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008); and Jeffrey A. Engel, ed., Local Consequences of the Global Cold War (Washington, D.C.: Woodrow Wilson Center Press; Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2007).
3 “19 Russians Fight and Hide Way Here,” The New York Times, March 30, 1952.
4 “Epic Escape from Reds Finally Ends in the U.S.,” Life 32, no. 15 (April 14, 1952): 36.
5 At least one best-selling author, William Lindsey White, even abandoned a book project about the Russians in the 1950s, perhaps after discovering that the group's story did not so neatly conform to the Cold War heroics described in the American media. See E. Jay Jernigan, William Lindsay White, 1900–1973: In the Shadow of his Father (Norman University of Oklahoma Press, 1997), 234–237. See also W.L. White to George L. Hams, March 4, 1953, and W.L. White to Eugene H. Bird, April 6, 1953, both in National Archives and Records Administration, General Records of the Department of State (hereafter RG 59), Records of the Office of Chinese Affairs, “P” Files, 1952–53, Box 23, “#6p Sinkiang, 1953.”
6 Melvyn P. Leffler, For the Soul of Mankind: The United States, the Soviet Union, and the Cold War (New York: Hill and Wang, 2007).
7 John Lewis Gaddis, The Long Peace: Inquiries into the History of the Cold War (New York: Oxford University Press, 1989). For implicit criticisms of the “long peace,” see Hal Brands, Latin America's Cold War (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2010); Heonik Kwon, The Other Cold War (New York: Columbia University Press, 2010); and Yangwen Zheng, Hong Liu, and Michael Szonyi, eds., The Cold War in Asia: The Battle for Hearts and Minds (Boston, MA: Brill, 2010).
8 See also Justin Jacobs, “Empire Besieged: The Preservation of Chinese Rule in Xinjiang, 1884–1971” (Ph.D. diss., University of California, San Diego, 2011).
9 James A. Millward, Eurasian Crossroads: A History of Xinjiang (New York: Columbia University Press, 2007).
10 Linda Benson and Ingvar Svanberg, “The Russians in Xinjiang: From Immigrants to National Minority, ” Central Asian Survey 8 (1989): 99; Michael Share, “The Russian Civil War in Chinese Turkestan (Xinjiang), 1918–1921: A Little Known and Explored Front,” Europe-Asia Studies 62 (May 2010): 389–420.
11 Benson and Svanberg, “The Russians in Xinjiang,” 97.
12 Owen Lattimore, Pivot of Asia: Sinkiang and the Inner Asian Frontiers of China (Boston, MA: Little, Brown & Co., 1950), 146.
13 Millward, Eurasian Crossroads, 192–194.
14 Interview with the author.
15 Allen S. Whiting and General Sheng Shih-ts'ai [Sheng Shicai], Sinkiang: Pawn or Pivot? (East Lansing: Michigan State University Press, 1958).
16 Millward, Eurasian Crossroads, 206–207.
17 A. Doak Barnett, China on the Eve of Communist Takeover (New York: Praeger, 1963), 274–275. Accounts about Osman have appeared in numerous languages, and the appropriation of Osman Batur's namesake by so many different individuals at different cross purposes is dealt with at length in Justin Jacobs, “The Many Deaths of a Kazak Unaligned: Osman Batur, Chinese Decolonization, and the Nationalization of a Nomad,” American Historical Review 115 (December 2010): 1291–1314.
18 The recollections of the Russians verify that the Soviets bankrolled and perhaps even micromanaged much of the war effort against the GMD in autumn 1944, helping put to rest the long-disputed claims that decorated Soviet officers were among the anti-government forces. See Belov Bc-21 in Papers of William Lindsay White, William Allen White, and other White family members, 1815–1983 (RHMS-608), Box 46, Kenneth Spencer Research Library, University of Kansas Libraries. (Hereafter shortened to RHMS-608.)
19 Jacobs, “The Many Deaths of a Kazak Unaligned,” 1297. While the literature on the East Turkestan Republic is extensive, it is still colored by heated debates. In English, see David D. Wang, Under the Soviet Shadow: The Yining Incident: Ethnic Conflicts and International Rivalry in Xinjiang, 1944–1949 (Hong Kong: The Chinese University Press, 1999) and Linda Benson, The Ili Rebellion: The Moslem Challenge to Chinese Authority in Xinjiang, 1944–1949 (Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe, Inc., 1990). In Japanese, see Wang Ke, Higashi Torukisutan Kyo¯wakoku kenkyu¯: Chu¯goku no Isuramu to minzoku mondai (A Study on the East Turkestan Republic: Muslims and the National Question in China) (Tokyo: Tokyo Daigaku Shuppanka, 1995). In Russian, see V.A. Barmin, Sin'tszian v sovetsko-kitaikikh otnosheniiakh, 1941–1949 gg. (Sino-Soviet Relations and Xinjiang, 1941–1949) (Barnaul: Barnaul'skii gosudarstvennyii pedagogicheskii universitet, 1999). And in Chinese, see Xinjiang sanqu geming shi bianzuan weiyuanhui, ed., Xinjiang sanqu geming dashiji (Chronicle of Major Events in Xinjiang's Three Districts Revolution) (Wulumuqi: Xinjiang renmin chubanshe, 1994) and Xinjiang sanqu geming shi bianzuan weiyuanhui, ed., Xinjiang sanqu geming (Xinjiang's Three Districts Revolution) (Wulumuqi: Xinjiang renmin chubanshe, 1994).
20 Chanov 5-88– Chanov 6-29 in RHMS-608. See also Linda Benson, “Osman Batur: The Kazak's Golden Legend,” in The Kazaks of China: Essays on an Ethnic Minority, ed. Linda Benson and Ingvar Svanberg (Uppsala, Sweden: Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis, 1988), 162–163.
21 Chanov 8-42 in RHMS-608.
22 Belov Bc-21 in RHMS-608.
23 Leffler, For the Soul of Mankind, 76.
24 Donald Filtzer, Soviet Workers and Late Stalinism: Labour and the Restoration of the Stalinist System after World War II (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002).
25 John Hall Paxton, “The General Problem of Displaced Persons in Sinkiang,” August 26, 1947, in RG 59, Central Decimal Files 1945–1949, 840.48 Refugees/8-2647. (Hereafter shortened to CDF 1945–1949.)
26 Chanov 8-42 in RHMS-608; Chanov 8-56 – Chanov 8-78 in RHMS-608.
27 Jacobs, “The Many Deaths of a Kazak Unaligned.”
28 Fuyun xian zhengxie “Fuyun xian zhengxie zhi” bianxie zu, ed., Fuyun xian zhengxie zhi (1950.10 – 2002.12) (Records of the Fuyun County CPPCC, October 1950 – December 2002) (Wulumuqi: Wulumuqi xin xie yin wu gongsi, 2005), 22.
29 Chanov H-96 in RHMS-608.
30 Enclosure No. 2 to “Arrival of 23 Russian Refugees from China via Tibet,” in RG 59, Bureau of Security and Consular Affairs, Office of Refugee and Migration Affairs, Box 3, “Sinkiang White Russians.” (Hereafter abbreviated to “Sinkiang White Russians.”)
31 Chanov I-14 in RHMS-608.
32 Interview with the author; Belov BH-33 in RHMS-608.
33 Interview with the author; Chanov I-125 in RHMS-608.
34 The city was sometimes rendered as “Ghushien” in U.S. diplomatic reports.
35 Interview with the author. See also Barnett, China on the Eve of Communist Takeover, 276. In February 1948, the Russians were moved out of Guchung to Jimsar (Jimusa'er) in order to follow Osman's movements. Interview with the author; Belov 1-9, in RHMS-608.
36 Walter Sullivan, “Chief Vows Fight On Sinkiang Reds,” New York Times, April 18, 1949.
37 Andrew D.W. Forbes, Warlords and Muslims in Chinese Central Asia: A Political History of Republican Sinkiang 1911–1949 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986), 161; Wang, Under the Soviet Shadow, 67; Jia Chunyang, “Meiguo zhu Dihua lingshiguan de sheli yu qi ‘Jiang du’ zhengce de yuanqi” (“The Establishment of the U.S. Consulate in Dihua and the Origins of U.S. Policy towards the Issue of ‘Xinjiang's Independence’”), Guoji luntan 4 (July 2010): 41; O. Edmund Clubb, The Witness and I (New York: Columbia University Press, 1975), 61.
38 Xiaoyuan Liu, Recast All Under Heaven: Revolution, War, Diplomacy, and Frontier China in the 20th Century (New York: Continuum, 2010), 30.
39 John J. Muccio, “Tihwa Inspection Report, Part III-5, Citizenship Work,” “Tihwa Inspection Report, Part III-4, Immigration Work,” and “Tihwa Inspection Report, Part III-2, Commercial and Economic Work,” June 28, 1948, all in RG 59, Foreign Service Inspection Reports (FSIR), Box 116, Tihwa 1948. (Hereafter FSIR Box 116.)
40 Muccio, “Tihwa Inspection Report, Part I, Personnel” and “Tihwa Inspection Report, Part III-1, Political Work,” in FSIR Box 116.
41 Muccio, “Tihwa Consulate Personnel” and “Tihwa Inspection Report, Part I, Personnel,” in FSIR Box 116.
42 For explanations of Mackiernan's mission in Xinjiang, see Ted Gup, The Book of Honor: The Secret Lives and Deaths of CIA Operatives (New York: Anchor Books, 2000) and Thomas Laird, Into Tibet: The CIA's First Atomic Spy and His Secret Expedition to Lhasa (New York: Grove Press, 2002).
43 Belov 1-12, Bel-1–14, Bel 1-15, Belov 1-27 in RHMS-608.
44 Chanov - r-116 and Chanov -s-1 in RHMS-608.
45 Laird, Into Tibet, 78; Belov-1-30 in RHMS-608.
46 Muccio, “Tihwa Inspection Report, Part III-9, Miscellaneous,” in FSIR Box 116.
47 Craig Campbell and Sergey Radchenko, The Atomic Bomb and the Origins of the Cold War (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2008); John Lewis Gaddis, We Now Know: Rethinking Cold War History (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997), 85–112.
48 Qu Xinru, “Xinjiang jiefang qianhou Ying, Mei didui shili de jiandie huodong” (“Espionage Committed by the Hostile British and American Forces Before and After Xinjiang's Liberation”), Junshi lishi 1 (2000): 65.
49 Chanov - r-105 in RHMS-608; “Guanyu Xinjiang Meiguo jianmou Ye-luo-duo-fu an tupian ji shuoming” (“Pictures and Explanation from the Case of the American Spy Ye-luo-duo-fu in Xinjiang”), January 1–December 31, 1950, Document No. 118-00084-04, Archive of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the People's Republic of China, Beijing, China (hereafter PRC MFA); Xinjiang Weiwu'er zizhiqu difangzhi bianzuan weiyuanhui and “Xinjiang tongzhi √ Gong'an zhi” bianzuan weiyuanhui, eds., Xinjiang tongzhi: Di ershi juan: Gong'an zhi (Xinjiang Gazetteer, Volume 20: Public Security) (Wulumuqi: Xinjiang renmin chubanshe, 2004), 809; Nan Shi, ed., Fuxiao de jiaoliang—Xin Zhongguo jiaofei yu zhenya fangeming jishi (The Dawn of the Contest: Documentary of Bandit Annihilation and the Suppression of Counterrevolutionaries in New China) (Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian chubanshe, 1999), 52–53.
50 Belov 74–Belov 75, in RHMS-608; Enclosure to No. 3 to “Arrival of 23 Russian Refugees from China via Tibet,” 2 August 1951, 891.411/8-251, in “Sinkiang White Russians;” Xinjiang Weiwu'er zizhiqu difangzhi bianzuan weiyuanhui and “Xinjiang tongzhi √ Gong'an zhi” bianzuan weiyuanhui, eds., Xinjiang tongzhi: Di ershi juan: Gong'an zhi, 810.
51 “Deng Liqun jin Wusiman de jinqi dongxiang zhi zhongyang dian (jielu)” (“Excerpt of a Telegram from Deng Liqun to the Central Committee on Osman Batur's Recent Movements”), October 5, 1949, in Zhang Yuxi, ed., Xinjiang pingpan jiaofei (The Suppression of Bandits in Xinjiang) (Wulumuqi: Xinjiang renmin chubanshe, 2000), 29–30. See also Wang, Under the Soviet Shadow, 68.
52 See also “Withdrawal of Central Government Military Personnel from Tihua,” September 6, 1949, CIA Records Search Tool (CREST) No. CIA-RDP82-00457R003200320008-0; “Withdrawal of Troops and Anti-Communist Leaders from Sinkiang Province,” September 16, 1949, CREST No. CIA-RDP82-00457R003300210009-0.
53 Frank Bagnall Bessac and Susanne Leppman Bessac with Joan Orielle Bessac Steelquist, Death on the Chang Tang, Tibet, 1950: The Education of an Anthropologist (Missoula: The University of Montana Printing & Graphic Services, 2006), 77.
54 Douglas Mackiernan, Tihwa Dispatch No. 250, September 5, 1949, CDF 1945–1949 840.48 Refugees/9-849.
55 Marcia Reynders Ristaino, Port of Last Resort: The Diaspora Communities of Shanghai (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2001).
56 Emma Haddad, The Refugee in International Society: Between Sovereigns (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 132–133.
57 Alvin Roseman to George L. Warren, no date (likely after October 12, 1949), in “Sinkiang White Russians.”
58 Enclosure No. 2, 3, to “Arrival of 23 Russian Refugees from China via Tibet,” in “Sinkiang White Russians.”
59 Interview with the author. See also Xiao Feng, Mei Dong, and Bei Gen, Fan te zhenfan yundong shilu (Record of the Campaign Against Spies and to Suppress Counterrevolutionaries) (Beijing: Jincheng chubanshe, 1998), 205.
60 Belov 68, 71, and 73 in RHMS-608.
61 Chanov v-95 in RHMS-608; interview with the author.
62 “Qian Meiguo zhu Dihua fulingshi Ma-ke-nan goujie gufei congshi jiandie huodong” (“The Former U.S. Vice Consul Mackiernan's Collaboration with Bandits and Espionage”), Renmin ribao, January 30, 1950.
63 “Balikun Hasake zizhixian zhi” bianzuan weiyuanhui, ed. Balikun Hasake zizhixian zhi (Gazetteer of Barkol Kazakh Autonomous County) (Wulumuqi: Xinjiang daxue chubanshe, 1993), 427. See also Chanov W-11, Chanov W-19, Belov 82, and Belov 84 in RHMS-608.
64 “Balikun Hasake zizhixian zhi” bianzuan weiyuanhui, ed. Balikun Hasake zizhixian zhi, 427; Chanov v-70 and Chanov v-80 in RHMS-608.
65 “Arrival of Chinese Communist Troops in Sinkiang Province,” November 4, 1949, CREST No. CIA-RDP82-00457R003700100005-9.
66 Bessac and Bessac, Death on the Chang Tang, Tibet, 1950, 61–71; Chanov w-1 in RHMS-608.
67 Belov 80 in RHMS-608.
68 Chanov W-34, Chanov W-40, and Chanov W-69 in RHMS-608.
69 “Wusiman feishou gongren zuixing” (“The Bandit Chieftain Osman has Confessed”), Renmin ribao, May 5, 1951.
70 Wang Zhuanpu, “Xinjiang heping qiyi qianhou de Zhenxi” (“Zhenxi Before and After the Period of Xinjiang's Liberation”) Xinjiang wenshi ziliao xuanji 11 (Wulumuqi: Xinjiang renmin chubanshe, 1982): 17–31.
71 Chanov Z-1 through Chanov Z-52 in RHMS-608.
72 Interview with the author.
73 Zhonggong Balikun xianwei dangshi gongzuo weiyuanhui, ed., Zhongguo gongchandang Balikun Hasake zizhixian lishi dashiji (1949nian 10yue – 1997nian 12yue) (Major Historical Events of the Chinese Communist Party in Barkol Kazakh Autonomous County, October 1949 – December 1997) (Balikun: n.p., 1998), 1–2.
74 “Balikun Hasake zizhixian zhi” bianzuan weiyuanhui, ed. Balikun Hasake zizhixian zhi, 427–428. In retrospect, Chinese scholars have recognized Osman's tactics as “being polite, but insincere” (xuyouweiyi). See Bai Xi, Kaiguo da zhenfan (Grand Suppression during the Founding of the Nation) (Beijing: Zhonggong dangshi chubanshe, 2006), 272–273.
75 “Guanyu chuli yu Ying Mei zhu Dihua lingshi guanxi wenti de dianbao” (“Telegram on Handling the Consular Relations of the British and Americans in Dihua”), December 7, 1949, in Zhonggong zhongyang wenxian yanjiushi and Zhongyang dang'anguan, eds., Jianguo yilai Zhou Enlai wengao (Zhou Enlai's Manuscripts since the Founding of the PRC), vol. 1 (Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian chubanshe, 2008), 637–638.
76 On the surrender, see Belov 99 in RHMS-608.
77 “Qian Meiguo zhu Dihua fulingshi Ma-ke-nan goujie gufei congshi jiandie huodong.”
78 Bao Erhan [Burhan Shähidi], “Meidi qinrao Xinjiang renmin liyi de shishi, da le Aiqixun de zuiba!” (“The American Imperialists Have Violated the Interests of the People of Xinjiang; Hit Back at Acheson's Mouth!”), Renmin Ribao, January 30, 1950.
79 “Guanyu Meiguo zhu Zhongguo Xinjiang Dihua lingshiguan fulingshi Ma-ke-nan yangmou huodong de cailiao” (“Materials on the Overt Schemes of Vice-Consul Mackiernan from the United States Consulate in Dihua”), January 1, 1950, Document No. 118-00005-02 and “Zhongguo diaohuo Meiguo zhu Zhongguo Xinjiang Dihua lingshiguan fandong xingwei” (“China has Investigated the Reactionary Behavior of the United States Consulate in Dihua”), January 1, 1950, Document No. 118-00005-03, PRC MFA.
80 Xinjiang Weiwu'er zizhiqu difangzhi bianzuan weiyuanhui, ed., Xinjiang tong zhi: di shisi juan, gongchandang zhi (Gazetteer of Xinjiang: Volume 14: Communist Party Records) (Wulumuqi: Xinjiang renmin chubanshe, 2001), 397. See also Liu Xiangjun and Meng Nan, “Cong Xinjiang jiaofei douzheng kan Zhongguo gongchandang de minzu zhengce” (“The Ethnic Policies of the Chinese Communist Party during the Struggle to Suppress Bandits in Xinjiang”), Xibei minzu yanjiu 1 (2004): 92–98.
81 “Wang Zhen guanyu weijiao Wusiman gufei zuozhan jihua de anpai (jielu)” (“Excerpts from Wang Zhen's War Plans for Encircling and Annihilating Osman's Bandits”), March 16, 1950, in Zhang, Xinjiang pingpan jiaofei, 49–50. See also Jacobs, “Empire Besieged,” 478–479.
82 See Yuan Zhigang, Xibei da jiaofei jishi (Documentary of the Great Bandit Annihilation in the Northwest) (Beijing: Jiefangjun chubanshe, 2009), 236.
83 Yao-le-bo-shi [Yolbars Khan], “Xinjiang xianfei qianhou qingxing baogao” (“A Report on the Bandit Takeover of Xinjiang”), 00112-00113, Archives of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Institute of Modern History, Academica Sinica, Nangang, Taiwan, file 119.51/0001. A copy of this document was furnished to the author by Justin Jacobs. Eventually, an abridged version of this document was published in Taiwan in a moderately “sanitized” form. See Yao-le-bo-shi [Yolbars Khan], “Zuihou weishi zhi zhan—Cheli Tianshan ji” (“The Last Guardian's Battle: Record of the Withdrawal from the Heavenly Mountains”), Zhongguo bianzheng no. 1 (June 1963): 8–12.
84 Chanov Ab-1 and Chanov Ab-24 in RHMS-608.
85 Chanov AB-24 and Chanov AB-58 in RHMS-608.
86 “Balikun Hasake zizhixian zhi” bianzuan weiyuanhui, ed. Balikun Hasake zizhixian zhi, 429.
87 “Xinjiang junqu guanyu jiaofei zuozhan de yubei mingling” (“The Xinjiang Military District's Preparation Commands for Bandit Suppression Operations”), April 19, 1950, in Zhang, ed., Xinjiang pingpan jiaofei, 58–59.
88 “Yan Kuiyao deng guanyu weijiao Wusiman, Yao-le-bo-si tufei qingkuang zhi ge junqu bing zhongyang junwei dian” (“Telegram from Yang Kuiyao, Wang Zhengzhu, and Han Liancheng to the Every Military District and the Central Military Commission on the Situation of Encircling and Annihilating the Bandits Osman and Yolbars”), May 24, 1950, in Zhang, ed., Xinjiang pingpan jiaofei, 70–71. While earlier PLA reports suggested that as many as forty had been killed, a June 1950 report in People's Daily asserted that most of Osman's Russians had surrendered to the PLA in May. According to this story, only two Russians had been killed, while forty-six of Osman's “White Russian bodyguards” (bai E weidui) had surrendered. This article was likely based on a June 1, 1950, report from the Northwest Military Region, which offered similar surrender and death tolls. See “Xinjiang junqu budui san lu jin jiaofei ku” (“From Three Directions, Forces from the Xinjiang Military Region are Suppressing Bandits”), Renmin ribao, June 4, 1950; “Xibei junqu guanyu weijiao Wu, Yao tufei qingkuang zhi ge junqu bing xibei ju, Zhongyang junwei dian” (“Telegram from the Northwest Military Region to Every Military Region, the Northwest Bureau, and the Central Military Commission on the Situation of Encircling and Suppressing the Bandits Osman and Yolbars”), June 1, 1950, in Zhang, ed., Xinjiang pingpan jiaofei, 75–76.
89 Chanov Ac-28 and Ac-38 in RHMS-608.
90 Yao-le-bo-shi, “Xinjiang xianfei qianhou qingxing baogao,” 00119.
91 Yao-le-bo-shi, “Xinjiang xianfei qianhou qingxing baogao,” 00119-00120.
92 Interview with the author and enclosure No. 2, 4, to “Arrival of 23 Russian Refugees from China via Tibet,” in “Sinkiang White Russians.”
93 Zhonggong Balikun xianwei dangshi gongzuo weiyuanhui, ed., Zhongguo gongchandang Balikun Hasake zizhixian lishi dashiji (1949nian 10yue – 1997nian 12yue), 3–4.
94 Belov 104, 105, and 106 in RHMS-608.
95 “Xinjiang junqu guanyu jinhou yige shiqi jiaofei renwu anpai de mingling” (“Orders from the Xinjiang Military District on Arrangements for Bandit Suppression from Today Onward”), July 25, 1950, in Zhang, ed., Xinjiang pingpan jiaofei, 91–92; Chanov Ao-85 in RHMS-608.
96 Belov 113-114 in RHMS-608.
97 Enclosure No. 2, 5, to “Arrival of 23 Russian Refugees from China via Tibet,” in “Sinkiang White Russians.”
98 Laird, Into Tibet, 171–177.
99 Belov 170-190 in RHMS-608.
100 “From the Altai Mountains to New York via Tibet and Calcutta,” Tolstoy Foundation News 2, no. 7 (May–June 1952): 4–5.
101 H.R.H Prince Peter of Greece, “A Russian Exodus from Sinkiang,” 266.
102 Evan M. Wilson to the Department of State, “23 White Russian Refugees from Communist China,” August 27, 1951, in “Sinkiang White Russians.”
103 “Coming of White Russians to India,” Parliamentary Debates: Official Reports. Part 1. Questions & Answers 10 (September 26, 1951): 1700–1701.
104 Lloyd V. Steer to the Secretary of State, New Delhi Dispatch No. 8, July 8, 1951; Lloyd V. Steer to the Secretary of State, New Delhi Dispatch No. 33, July 3, 1951; Dean Acheson to the American Consulate at Geneva, July 5,1951; Dean Acheson to the American Embassy at New Delhi, July 5, 1951; and Lloyd V. Steer to the Secretary of State, New Delhi Dispatch No. 132, July 10, 1951, all in “Sinkiang White Russians.”
105 William G. Gibson to the Department of State, “Arrival of 23 Russian refugees from China via Tibet,” in “Sinkiang White Russians.”
106 J.A. Linehan to George L. Warren, “Status of Refugees in India,” October 16, 1951, in “Sinkiang White Russians.”
107 Michel Peissel, Tiger for Breakfast: The Story of Boris of Kathmandu (New York: E.P. Dutton & Co., Inc., 1966), 182. See also Nikolai Listopadov, “A Russian in the Himalayas,” International Affairs 51 (2005): 194.
108 Sidor Belov to the International Refugee Organization, July 28, 1951, Enclosure No. 1 to “Arrival of 23 Russian Refugees from China via Tibet,” in “Sinkiang White Russians.” One additional stray Russian joined the group of twenty-two while in India, bringing the group's size temporarily to twenty-three. The eldest group member, however, passed away while in transit to the United States.
109 Ward to the Secretary of State, Geneva Dispatch No. 105, August 2, 1951 in “Sinkiang White Russians.”
110 James E. Webb to the American Consulate at Calcutta, August 14, 1951, in “Sinkiang White Russians.”
111 Dean Acheson to the American Consulate at Calcutta, August 27, 1951, in “Sinkiang White Russians.” Though the Tolstoy Foundation is a private, non-profit group, the Soviet Union often alleged that it was backed by the CIA. See Association of Soviet Lawyers, ed., The White Book: Evidence, Facts, Documents (Moscow: Progress Publishers, 1981), 75.
112 James E. Webb to the American Consulate at Calcutta, Dispatch No. A-107, December 5, 1951, in “Sinkiang White Russians.”
113 K.P. Charnoff [Kiprian Chanov] to the Tolstoy Foundation, February 8, 1952, in “Sinkiang White Russians”; “20 Fleeing Russians Arrive in Hamburg,” The Washington Post, March 18, 1952.
114 “19 Russians Fight and Hide Way Here,” The New York Times; The Tolstoy Foundation, Thirty-Four Years of Assistance to Refugees (New York: The Tolstoy Foundation, 1972), 17.
115This Is Your Life, NBC Television, October 10, 1956.
116 Li Danhui, “Soviet Nationals and the Soviet Influence in Xinjiang (1949–1965),” trans. Song Jun, ed. David Kelly, Social Sciences in China 25 (Spring 2004): 54–65.
Charles Kraus is a Ph.D. student in the Department of History at The George Washington University. Broadly interested in modern Chinese history, Kraus' research focuses on the interplay between central-local relations, foreign relations, and ethnicity on the Chinese periphery after 1945. Email: krauscr@gmail.com
