In 2014, I found myself in the remote town of Altay in China’s Xinjiang region, thousands of miles away from my base in Beijing. My personal mission was to uncover records of my father’s service in a Chinese army unit six decades earlier. As a foreign journalist in a region under President Xi Jinping’s harsh policies, I knew I had limited time before police officers would start trailing me.
The area of Altay, nestled on the border with Russia, Mongolia, and Kazakhstan, holds a rich history of ethnic diversity and is crucial to Chinese rulers’ concept of empire. Despite the odds, I decided to visit the Civil Affairs Bureau in Altay to inquire about the army base where my father, a member of the Chinese military, had served in 1952 alongside Kazakh cavalry soldiers.
During my conversation with Wei Yangxuan, a young woman at the office who was also an army veteran, I learned that she had no information about the specific base I was looking for. Realizing this might be my only chance to uncover more about my father’s past, I decided to call him from Altay. With the time difference, it was just past 7 a.m. in Virginia where my parents resided.
My father’s incredulous response to my location in Altay highlighted the emotional distance between my present investigative journey and his past military service. The conversation with my father brought a sense of urgency and connection to my search for his frontier in Mao’s army.
As a journalist with years of experience in China, my personal quest to uncover my father’s history provided a unique perspective on the country’s complex past and present. Despite the challenges and risks associated with my investigation, the journey to Altay offered a glimpse into a forgotten chapter of my family’s story intertwined with the broader narrative of China’s military history.
The remote town of Altay, with its mountainous landscape and diverse ethnic groups, served as a backdrop for my exploration of my father’s role in the Chinese military. The encounter with Wei Yangxuan and the subsequent phone call to my father added layers of personal connection and emotional depth to my journalistic pursuit.
In the midst of political tensions and historical complexities, my search for my father’s frontier in Mao’s army reflected a deeper exploration of identity, memory, and the enduring legacy of China’s military past. The journey to Altay became a symbolic bridge between generations, linking my father’s experiences in the army to my own quest for understanding and connection in a rapidly changing world.
