Ms Marie Rimmer

I do agree, and I will come to that later. I am glad that the hon. Gentleman has said more than I was going to say—I thought I was saying too much. Yes, he is absolutely right, and it is dangerous for us all. The situation in Xinjiang illustrates one of the most severe forms of ethnoreligious persecution in China. It is worth pointing out that not all Uyghurs are Muslim, and not all Muslim Uyghurs are persecuted. Independent estimates suggest that between 1 million and 2 million Uyghurs and other Muslim minorities have been detained in camps and prisons, with many later transferred into long-term sentences. Alongside that, Uyghur imams, scholars and religious leaders have been systematically targeted, with many detained in prisons for decades or dying in custody, underscoring the deliberate dismantling of religious leadership and community life. Uyghurs have been punished for everyday religious practice, including praying, fasting during Ramadan, teaching the Quran or even using traditional greetings, while mosques and shrines have been demolished and altered, children separated into state-run schools, and homes subjected to constant monitoring. At the same time, ordinary expressions of the Islamic faith have been criminalised, and the wider system of repression has expanded beyond detention into forced labour, cultural destruction and enforced assimilation. Coercive labour transfer programmes have expanded across multiple sectors, with significant global implications for supply chains. The trajectory is now being further entrenched through new legislation, including the 2026 ethnic unity law, which promotes a single national identity, expands ideological control over religion and culture, and introduces broad penalties for behaviour that is deemed to undermine ethnic unity, effectively formalising a system that has already devastated the Uyghurs’ religious and cultural life. Thanks to many hard-working advocates —such as Rahima Mahmut, Benedict Rodgers and Lord Alton, to name a few—the Uyghur tribunal has concluded that a genocide is taking place in China, including through the sterilisation of Uyghur women. That finding was echoed by the UK Parliament, which voted to recognise the atrocities as a genocide in April 2021. Evidence from human rights organisations describes the regulations governing Tibetan Buddhist temples, reincarnation and monastic education, including the prohibition on allowing children of compulsory school age to study scriptures in temples. Ordinary religious expression is recast as a threat to state security. Falun Gong practitioners have also faced extreme persecution, including arrests, torture and deaths in custody, with figures suggesting that more than 2,800 were arrested in 2024 alone. A mounting body of evidence presented in 2019 at the China tribunal chaired by Sir Geoffrey Nice KC—the same person who chaired the Uyghur tribunal—pointed to the conclusion that Falun Gong practitioners have been the victims of a state-run programme of forced organ harvesting. It is unbelievable what went on there. It is clear now that religious persecution in China has two aspects: the careful controlling of a narrow, politicised form of religion, and the outright repression of all other expressions of that faith. We see that clearly in the systemic persecution of Chinese Christians. First, we see the careful controlling of a narrow and highly politicised form of Christianity. The so-called Three-Self Patriotic Movement, a state-sponsored form of Chinese Christianity, is presented by the authorities as the legitimate framework for Protestant worship. This is not simply a matter of registration; it is a matter of subordination. In regulating the churches, the state claims the right to decide which churches may legally exist, which pastors may lawfully preach, which cameras are installed above the doors, what theology may be taught and what children may hear. Registration does not guarantee safety; even registered churches have still been raided. That shows that the issue is not merely whether a church is registered, but whether it remains sufficiently obedient to party priorities. Secondly, we see the outright repression of all those who refuse to conform to that limited model. While local government officials might be able to turn a blind eye to small house church gatherings, they can crack down in a flash on congregations that risk growing too large, too noticeable or too direct in their political messaging. Unregistered churches are pressured to join the state system, and refusal can trigger raids, detention and prosecution. Even the smallest acts of worship, such as organising a bible study in a home, can be labelled as illegal gatherings, leading to detention and imprisonment. When preaching is treated as a political crime, and when ordinary worship becomes a criminal offence, freedom of religion or belief is not merely restricted, but effectively denied. What binds all these examples together is not a single denomination or doctrine, but the party’s insistence that no independent moral, spiritual, communal or transnational authority may exist outside its control. Why should the United Kingdom care? First, because freedom of religion or belief is universal. It is not diminished by geography, and it does not become negotiable because the offending state is economically powerful. Secondly, because the United Kingdom has long claimed a role as a defender of human rights and the international rules-based order. That claim rings hollow if, when confronted with a sophisticated system of ideological repression by a major power, we choose caution over candour. Thirdly, because the evidence before us shows that China’s repression is becoming more systematic, more legalised, more normalised and more exportable. A model in which freedom of religion or belief is hollowed out through licensing, digital surveillance, patriotic indoctrination, vague criminal law and selective prosecution is not only a domestic tragedy for China’s believers, but a profound challenge to international human rights norms. Let me conclude with several clear points. The United Kingdom should state plainly that China’s Sinicisation programme is incompatible with genuine freedom of religion or belief. We should call for the release of prisoners of conscience who are detained on account of religion or belief, including Christian leaders, Uyghur and Hui Muslims, Tibetan Buddhists, Falun Gong practitioners and others. We should condemn the persecution of Uyghurs as what it is—a genocide. We should press for transparency in administrative and criminal detention, an end to secret detention practices, proper access to lawyers and families, and due process consistent with international standards. We should support international efforts to establish a robust, independent UN mechanism capable of investigating China’s serious human rights violations, including against freedom of religion or belief. We should work with international partners on targeted sanctions against those responsible for gross abuse. We should ensure that UK trade engagement does not proceed as though forced labour, religious persecution, cultural erasure and ideological criminalisation are somehow separate from the overall character of the state with which we are dealing. China’s believers are not asking this House to solve every problem in one debate, but they are entitled to expect a democratic legislature to tell the truth.