China’s ‘Ethnic Unity’ Cup: Football and Assimilation in the Uyghur Region

As such, the political messaging of the Tongxin Cup is closely aligned with state policies to reshape ethnic identity in the region. Adopted in March this year, the Law on Promoting Ethnic Unity and Progress requires state institutions, schools, media organizations, and businesses to promote a shared national identity over distinct ethnic identities. The law expands Mandarin-language education, encourages greater “interethnic integration,” and institutionalizes campaigns promoting national unity. 

Consequently, national identity is understood as Han culture, and the decades-long process of Uyghur cultural loss is codified under law. Within this framework, football becomes a vehicle for reinforcing assimilation and erasing diversity. It is no coincidence that the law comes into effect on July 1, 2026, in the midst of Tongxin Cup games. 

Football as a Tool of Control

The use of domestic football competitions for political purposes is hardly unique to China. Across different political systems and eras, authoritarian governments have used domestic football to manufacture consent, project legitimacy, and divert attention from repression. Francisco Franco renamed Spain’s historic Copa del Rey as the Copa del Generalísimo between 1939 and 1976, turning football into an affirmation of his regime.

China’s use of football in the Uyghur Region fits within this tradition. The strategy is particularly effective because football is as popular in Uyghur society as it is in countries such as Spain. However, for many years, football provided a means of expressing dissatisfaction with Chinese rule among Uyghurs. Support for whichever national team happened to be playing against China became a common form of resistance among some Uyghur fans. 

Furthermore, football became a means of independent organization. In the mid-1990s, Uyghurs in Ghulja responded to unemployment and substance abuse among young people by reviving the meshrep, a traditional community gathering, to offer mutual support and moral guidance. Meshrep leaders organized a 16-team football league to provide healthy activities for marginalized Uyghur youth. Chinese authorities shut down the tournament, deployed tanks onto football pitches, and removed goalposts to prevent matches from taking place. The suppression of meshrep activities became one of the grievances that contributed to the February 1997 Ghulja protests and subsequent massacre of Uyghur demonstrators by Chinese security forces.

The lesson learned by the Chinese state was not that football could strengthen communities. It was that football could become a focus of resistance and generate social networks beyond state control. Today, football is encouraged, but only under official supervision. The state promotes participation and funds facilities, provided that football serves state objectives rather than community autonomy.

Football thrives in the Uyghur diaspora, with initiatives like the establishment of the East Turkistan national team, which competes in non-FIFA international tournaments, as well as the playing of the “Uyghur World Cup” and amateur competitions organized by diaspora communities in countries such as the United States, Australia and Turkiye. However, these initiatives operate on shoestring budgets. Their significance lies in the ability of communities in exile to organize themselves and maintain language, culture, and communal ties despite formidable odds.

In the context of such constrained resources in the diaspora, the Tongxin Cup represents more than a football tournament. It demonstrates how a well-resourced authoritarian state can appropriate a popular sport and transform it into an instrument of political messaging and distraction from human rights violations. By promoting narratives of unity, prosperity, and participation, the competition helps normalize a broader project aimed at assimilating Uyghurs into a state-defined national identity. 

Football can bring people together. It can also be used to legitimize policies that erode the very diversity the sport is often celebrated for reflecting. As self-declared “custodians” of the global game, FIFA could express concern, but with a coterie of autocratic regimes pulling the strings within global football, that seems more than a long shot.