Experts say China’s new Ethnic Unity Law is not an isolated piece of legislation but the latest pillar in President Xi Jinping’s strategy to reshape Tibet through ideology, law, infrastructure and security, with implications extending far beyond the Tibetan Plateau.
For decades, China’s strategy in Tibet has followed a familiar trajectory.
It began with military control and political campaigns under Mao Zedong, shifted towards economic development and infrastructure under Deng Xiaoping and his successors, and has now entered a phase where law, ideology, education, technology and national security are being woven together to fundamentally redefine what it means to be Tibetan.
China’s new Ethnic Unity Law, which comes into force on July 1, is perhaps the clearest expression of that transformation.
While the legislation has attracted international attention for what critics describe as the legalisation of assimilation policies, China scholars argue that it is only one element of a much larger political project—one that extends beyond ethnic governance to encompass border security, demographic engineering, religious control and Beijing’s long-term geopolitical ambitions.
Speaking at a conference organised by the Tibet Policy Institute in New Delhi, former intelligence officials, academics and Tibetan researchers argued that the new law should be understood not as an isolated legal reform but as another building block in the Chinese Communist Party’s long-term nation-building strategy.
From assimilation to nation-building
To understand why Beijing considers the Ethnic Unity Law so important, experts say it is necessary to look beyond the legislation itself and examine China’s broader nation-building project.
According to China scholar Prof. Srikanth Kondapalli, the law represents the latest phase in the evolution of Beijing’s ethnic policy.
When the People’s Republic of China was established in 1949, the Communist Party broadly adopted the Soviet model of administering national minorities. Ethnic communities were formally recognised and early constitutional arrangements provided varying degrees of regional autonomy. Although these provisions were unevenly implemented, they nevertheless acknowledged the distinct identities, languages and cultures of minority nationalities.
That approach changed dramatically during the Cultural Revolution, when assimilation policies intensified, monasteries were destroyed, religious practices suppressed and minority identities came under unprecedented political pressure.
While the 1982 Constitution restored some protections relating to ethnic autonomy, Kondapalli argued that Beijing has steadily moved away from that framework under Xi Jinping.
Instead of accommodating diversity within the Chinese state, the emphasis has shifted towards creating a single political identity centred on what the Communist Party calls the “Chinese nation”.
“The assimilation policy is coming back,” Kondapalli observed.
Viewed in this context, the Ethnic Unity Law is not simply another legal reform. Rather, it represents the latest expression of a much broader nation-building strategy—one that seeks to gradually replace multiple ethnic identities with a unified national consciousness under the leadership of the Communist Party.
The United Front: Beijing’s quiet instrument of influence
Former Research and Analysis Wing (R&AW) officer Jayadeva Ranade argued that much of this transformation is being driven by one of the Communist Party’s least understood but most influential institutions—the United Front Work Department.
Often described as Beijing’s political influence arm, the United Front manages relations with ethnic minorities, religious organisations, business communities, intellectuals, overseas Chinese networks and non-Communist organisations. But its role, Ranade said, extends far beyond administration.
“It wants Tibetans to adapt Tibetan Buddhism to socialism with Chinese characteristics,” he said.
According to Ranade, the department is central to Xi Jinping’s strategy of reshaping identities rather than merely governing minority populations.
He noted that the chairman of the committee responsible for drafting the Ethnic Unity Law is closely associated with the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference, which oversees the United Front Work Department, and is regarded as one of Xi Jinping’s trusted political associates.
“This legislation has been drafted with extraordinary care,” Ranade observed. “Every provision reflects the thinking of the present leadership.”
He argued that the United Front’s work is not confined to Tibet or even China.
Its objective, he said, is to expand Beijing’s political influence by engaging overseas Chinese communities, academia, bureaucracy, business groups and civil society in democratic countries.
“It wants to homogenise thinking,” Ranade said, adding that Xi Jinping’s broader ambition is for China to rival or surpass the United States as the world’s leading power by 2049.
“It is in this context that we have to understand the Ethnic Unity Law.”
Why Beijing still feels insecure
Ironically, Ranade suggested that the very need for such legislation also reveals China’s continuing anxieties.
Despite more than seventy years of Communist Party rule in Tibet, Beijing has still not succeeded in fully securing the ideological loyalty it seeks.
“The fact that they have taken such care to bring in this law reflects the vulnerabilities they still feel persist,” he observed.
Nowhere is that more evident than in the Communist Party’s relationship with Tibetan Buddhism.
Monasteries continue to serve not only as religious institutions but also as centres of language, scholarship, philosophy and Tibetan identity.
“It has been seventy years and they continue targeting monks,” Ranade noted.
“They are viewed as the real troublemakers because they have not accepted adapting Tibetan Buddhism to socialism with Chinese characteristics.”
For Beijing, therefore, religious institutions remain among the final barriers to complete ideological integration.
Winning the next generation
If monasteries represent the guardians of Tibet’s past, education has become the battlefield for its future.
Several speakers argued that China’s education policies now lie at the heart of its assimilation strategy.
Mandarin increasingly dominates classrooms while Tibetan-language education continues to shrink.
Authorities justify the policy by arguing that fluency in Mandarin improves educational opportunities and employment prospects.
Critics see something more fundamental.
“The idea is that over time youngsters simply stop speaking Tibetan,” Ranade explained.
Language, they argue, carries culture, history and collective memory.
Its gradual disappearance therefore weakens the foundations of Tibetan identity itself.
Professor Kondapalli also highlighted China’s rapidly expanding network of boarding schools across Tibet.
Children, some as young as four years old, are separated from their families and educated primarily in Mandarin within tightly controlled residential institutions.
Traditional Tibetan festivals increasingly give way to Chinese national celebrations, while textbooks promote a unified Chinese identity.
“The effort is to completely reboot their identities,” Kondapalli observed.
For Tibetan scholars, the implications extend far beyond education.
They fear an entire generation could grow up speaking a different language, celebrating different traditions and understanding history through a fundamentally different political lens.
Surveillance enters the home
China’s transformation of Tibet is not limited to schools or monasteries.
Professor Kondapalli pointed to what he described as one of the more intrusive mechanisms of social control—the “double-linked household” system.
Under this arrangement, family members are expected to report one another’s activities and political views to local authorities.
If an individual expresses opinions concerning monasteries, religious leaders or the Chinese state, other members of the household may be expected to disclose those conversations.
Kondapalli compared the system to practices employed during China’s Cultural Revolution, when citizens were encouraged to denounce family members, neighbours and colleagues.
“What we are going to see,” he warned, “is the disruption of Tibetan family structures and social cohesion.”
Combined with facial recognition technology, digital surveillance and extensive Party oversight, critics argue that the result is an increasingly comprehensive system of ideological monitoring.
Development—or demographic transformation?
China frequently presents its investment in Tibet as evidence of its commitment to economic development and poverty alleviation.
Roads, railways, airports and hydropower projects are showcased as symbols of progress.
Conference participants, however, argued that these initiatives also serve strategic objectives.
Ranade highlighted the massive hydropower project planned in Medog County, close to India’s border with Arunachal Pradesh.
Expected to be around three times larger than the Three Gorges Dam, the project has generated international concern because of its location on the Yarlung Tsangpo, which becomes the Brahmaputra after entering India.
Questions remain over whether the project is intended solely for electricity generation or could eventually support large-scale water diversion.
Equally significant, experts said, is the demographic impact of these infrastructure projects.
Thousands of workers from mainland China have reportedly been relocated to Tibet to support mining, dam construction and transport development.
Over time, critics argue, this changes the demographic balance while strengthening Beijing’s administrative and political control over the region.
“It is a gradual process,” Ranade said. “But it changes the character of Tibet.”
Roads, railways and military logistics
Infrastructure, participants argued, should also be viewed through the lens of national security.
China continues to expand highways, rail links and strategic transport corridors across the Tibetan Plateau.
Ranade noted that Beijing also plans to develop around 35 airfields by 2049.
Although many of these facilities have civilian functions, they significantly enhance China’s military mobility across its western frontier.
Taken together, the roads, railways, airports and dams form part of a broader strategy linking economic development with political integration and military preparedness.
Beyond Tibet: Why India should pay attention
Experts stressed that the Ethnic Unity Law has consequences extending beyond China’s domestic politics.
Professor Kondapalli drew attention to Article 46, which links ethnic governance with border security and military-civil fusion.
He argued that the provision should be viewed alongside China’s Land Border Law and other legislation that increasingly merges civilian administration with national security objectives.
“The neighbouring countries—India, Bhutan, Nepal and Myanmar—also become relevant in terms of this law,” he said.
For India in particular, the implications are significant.
The law arrives alongside expanding infrastructure near the Line of Actual Control, large-scale dam construction on the upper reaches of the Brahmaputra, growing military logistics across Tibet and intensified efforts to consolidate Beijing’s control over border populations.
Participants argued that ethnic governance and frontier security are becoming increasingly intertwined under Xi Jinping.
The law therefore has implications not only for Tibet’s future but also for the wider Himalayan region.
The road to 2049
Ranade believes the Ethnic Unity Law should ultimately be understood within Xi Jinping’s long-term vision for China.
The centenary of the People’s Republic in 2049 remains the defining political milestone for the Communist Party.
By then, Xi has repeatedly declared, China should achieve what he calls the “great rejuvenation of the Chinese nation.”
Conference participants argued that the Ethnic Unity Law contributes directly to that objective.
Its purpose is not merely to administer ethnic minorities but to gradually eliminate competing political, cultural and historical identities that might challenge the Party’s vision of national unity.
Viewed individually, policies relating to education, religion, surveillance, infrastructure and border governance may appear administrative.
Taken together, however, experts argue they reveal a far more ambitious project.
The Ethnic Unity Law is therefore not simply another domestic legal reform. It is the latest pillar in an evolving political architecture that seeks to reshape Tibet through law, ideology, development and security while integrating the region ever more closely into Xi Jinping’s vision of a rejuvenated Chinese nation.
Whether that vision ultimately succeeds remains uncertain.
What is already becoming clear, however, is that the Ethnic Unity Law is not the culmination of Beijing’s Tibet policy.
It is the legal foundation upon which its next chapter is likely to be built.
