作者：张致君
编辑：李晶 校对：熊辩 翻译：彭小梅
2026年通过的《中华人民共和国民族团结进步促进法》，在文本上构建了一套关于民族关系的理想叙述：平等、团结、互助、融合。这种叙述延续了中国长期以来关于“多民族统一国家”的政治想象，并试图以法律形式将其制度化。
当我们将这部法律置于中国过去数十年的民族治理实践之中考察时，一个难以回避的问题浮现出来：这部法律所承诺的“平等与尊重”，在现实中真的具备可验证的制度基础吗？
该法反复强调“各民族一律平等”“禁止歧视和压迫”，并提出“尊重和包容差异性”。这些表述在形式上符合现代国家关于民族政策的基本原则。然而，中国的问题并不在于这些原则是否正确，而在于这些原则是否具有现实的约束力，是否能够对国家行为形成有效限制。
在一个以强权国家为特征的治理体系中，法律更多体现为治理工具，而非权利边界。当法律主要用于“引导”“促进”“管理”社会关系时，其对权力的约束功能就会弱化。该法文本中的“平等”与“尊重”，更多停留在宣示层面，而非制度实践。
该法在文化领域提出“尊重少数民族语言文字”“推动文化传承与发展”，同时在第15条中又强调“全面推广国家通用语言文字，任何组织和个人不得妨碍公民学习和使用国家通用语言文字”，在数条法条中提到“增强中华文化认同”“增强对中国共产党的认同”；如第11条“引导各族群众坚定对中华民族、中华文化、中国共产党、中国特色社会主义的认同”；第12条“国家组织开展中国共产党史、新中国史、改革开放史、社会主义发展史、中华民族发展史宣传教育，引导各族群众牢固树立正确的国家观、历史观、民族观、文化观、宗教观“；第14条” 突出各民族共有共享的中华文化符号和中华民族形象”。
以上2种的组合本身即蕴含张力。
以近年来内蒙古的语言政策调整为例，内蒙古中小学教育中减少蒙古语授课比例，推广国家统编教材，引发了广泛讨论，现实施行中政府手段强硬，在地方公立教育中不允许用民族语言授课。支持者认为，这是提升教育质量、促进社会流动的必要措施；批评者则指出，这种政策在客观上削弱了民族语言的使用空间，使其逐渐边缘化，更有批评者在2020年在行使自身宪法权利的时候，在抗议现场多次被抓捕与软禁。
类似情况也出现在新疆与西藏区域，双语教育逐渐转向以普通话为主导的教学体系。在形式上，这种转变被解释为“提高就业竞争力”，但在实际效果上，它也意味着把民族语言从“教育载体”转变为“文化符号”，其功能被显著压缩。
从制度逻辑来看，当国家在教育、媒体、公共空间中持续强化统一语言与文化符号时，多样性虽然似乎被承认，在现实中却难以获得对等地位。
这种模式可以被理解为一种“结构性同化”：差异被允许存在，但必须在统一框架之内运作。
法律中提出“宗教应当与社会主义社会相适应”，这一表述在中国既有政策中已有体现。其关键问题在于“适应”的标准由谁界定，边界如何划定？
在新疆，一系列围绕宗教活动的治理措施长期受到关注。例如，对宗教场所的审批管理，对宗教内容的规范，以及对宗教行为的限制。这些措施通常被置于“去极端化”和“反恐”的框架之下进行解释。
在西藏，宗教活动同样受到严格监管，特别是在宗教组织、转世认定、宗教教育等方面，国家具有决定性影响力。
从国家角度看，这种治理模式旨在防范风险、维护稳定；但从权利角度看，则引出了一个重要问题：当宗教实践必须符合国家设定的标准时，宗教自由是否仍然是一种“权利”，还是转变为一种“经许可的活动”。
这一转变意味着，宗教不再是一个独立的社会领域，而是被纳入政权统一的政治与治理体系之中。
该法多次提及“反对分裂”“防范风险”“维护国家安全”。这些表述反映出一个重要象征，民族问题已经被纳入国家安全框架进行理解与处理。
在政治学中，这一过程被称为“安全化”。一旦某一议题被定义为安全问题，其治理方式就会发生变化，比如政策优先级的上升，手段趋于强化，权利让位于稳定。
新疆的治理模式是一个典型例子。在反恐与去极端化的背景下，大规模的社会管理措施得以实施。这些措施在官方叙述中被视为维护安全与稳定的必要手段，但在外部观察中，引发了关于人权与自由的持续争议。
当“民族认同表达”被解释为“潜在风险”时，民族文化与社会生活的正常发展空间将受到极端的压缩。
从制度设计上看，该法对国家机关、公职人员、社会组织与公民均提出了要求。但是仔细分析可以发现，这部法律对公民和组织的行为规定更为具体，责任更为明确，而对国家机关的约束多为原则性要求，问责机制模糊。
例如，法律规定，国家机关“不履行职责”将被“责令改正”或给予处分，但缺乏独立监督机制来确保问责的实施。
这种结构意味着这部法律更强调自上而下的治理责任，而非自下而上的权利保障。
在中国缺乏独立司法与外部监督的情况下，权利条款难以转化为现实中的可操作机制。
法律中多次使用“破坏民族团结”“不利于民族团结的观念”等表述。这些概念在政治上具有明确指向，但在法律上却缺乏清晰边界。
这种模糊性带来的问题是不同地区、不同部门在类似的案件上会有不同解释，执法标准难以统一，个体行为的合法性边界变得不确定。
在实践中，这类概念就会被用于限制言论、学术研究或文化表达，尤其是在涉及民族历史、宗教问题或政策讨论时。
更加需要特别注意，该法特别在强调了未成年人的“民族教育”中体现热爱中国共产党，并特别标注香港、澳门的开展，以及海外组织及个人的行为约束。
“第二十条各级人民政府应当推动将铸牢中华民族共同体意识的要求融入家庭、家教和家风建设。”
未成年人的父母或者其他监护人应当依法履行家庭教育责任，教育和引导未成年人热爱中国共产党、热爱祖国、热爱人民、热爱中华民族，树立中华民族一家亲的观念，不得向未成年人灌输不利于民族团结进步的观念。
“第二十一条国家支持香港特别行政区、澳门特别行政区开展中华民族历史、中华文化和国情教育，引导香港特别行政区同胞、澳门特别行政区同胞自觉维护国家主权、安全、发展利益。”
“第六十三条中华人民共和国境外的组织和个人，针对中华人民共和国实施破坏民族团结进步、制造民族分裂行为的，依法追究法律责任。”
当我写下这篇文章的时候，由于《民族团结进步促进法》的模糊性，违法的这把刀或许就已经悬在了我的头上。
综上，《民族团结进步促进法》构建了一种关于“中华民族共同体”的宏大叙事。在这一叙事中，团结被置于核心位置，而差异则被纳入统一框架之中进行调节。问题并不在于“团结”本身，而在于当团结成为最高原则时，差异如何被对待，权利如何被保障。
从新疆、西藏、内蒙古等地的具体实践来看，当前中国对民族差异化的治理模式是以统一为目标，以稳定为优先，以政治安全为边界。
在这样的框架下，“平等”更多表现为形式上的一致性，而非实质上的多样性保障；“尊重”则需要在既定政治边界内实现。
因此，这部法律的根本问题可以概括为：它在语言上强调多元与包容，在结构上强化统一与控制；它将民族问题从“权利议题”转化为“治理议题”，并进一步纳入“安全议题”。
如此，法律不再作为限制权力的主要工具，而成为整合社会与塑造认同的机制。
而这正是更进一步质疑中国政府颁发法律是“虚伪”的制度根源所在。
Under the Name of “Unity”: The Constraint of the Ethnic Unity and Progress Promotion Law on Ethnic Development
Author: Zhang ZhijunEditor: Li Jing Proofreader: Xiong Bian Translator: Peng Xiaomei
The Ethnic Unity and Progress Promotion Law of the People’s Republic of China, passed in 2026, constructs in its text an ideal narrative about ethnic relations: equality, unity, mutual assistance, and integration. This narrative continues China’s long-standing political imagination of a “multi-ethnic unified state,” and attempts to institutionalize it in legal form.
When we place this law within the context of China’s ethnic governance practices over the past several decades, an unavoidable question emerges: does the “equality and respect” promised by this law truly have a verifiable institutional foundation in reality?
This law repeatedly emphasizes that “all ethnic groups are equal,” “discrimination and oppression are prohibited,” and proposes “respecting and accommodating differences.” These expressions formally conform to the basic principles of modern states regarding ethnic policy. However, China’s problem does not lie in whether these principles are correct, but in whether these principles have real binding force, and whether they can effectively constrain state behavior.
In a governance system characterized by a strong state, law more often manifests as a tool of governance rather than a boundary of rights. When law is mainly used to “guide,” “promote,” and “manage” social relations, its function of constraining power is weakened. The “equality” and “respect” in the text of this law remain more at the level of declaration than institutional practice.
In the cultural sphere, the law proposes “respecting the languages and scripts of ethnic minorities” and “promoting cultural inheritance and development.” At the same time, Article 15 emphasizes “fully promoting the national common language and script; no organization or individual may obstruct citizens from learning and using the national common language and script.” Several provisions also mention “enhancing identification with Chinese culture” and “enhancing identification with the Communist Party of China.” For example, Article 11 states: “guide people of all ethnic groups to firmly identify with the Chinese nation, Chinese culture, the Communist Party of China, and socialism with Chinese characteristics”; Article 12 states: “the state organizes publicity and education on the history of the Communist Party of China, the history of New China, the history of reform and opening up, the history of socialist development, and the history of the Chinese nation, guiding people of all ethnic groups to firmly establish correct views on the nation, history, ethnicity, culture, and religion”; Article 14 states: “highlight the shared symbols of Chinese culture and the image of the Chinese nation shared by all ethnic groups.”
The combination of these two aspects itself contains tension.
Taking the recent adjustment of language policy in Inner Mongolia as an example, the proportion of Mongolian-language instruction in primary and secondary education has been reduced, and nationally unified textbooks have been promoted, which has sparked widespread discussion. In actual implementation, government measures have been forceful, and the use of ethnic languages in local public education is not permitted. Supporters believe this is a necessary measure to improve education quality and promote social mobility; critics point out that such policies objectively weaken the space for the use of ethnic languages, gradually marginalizing them. Some critics were even arrested multiple times and placed under house arrest in 2020 while exercising their constitutional rights during protests.
Similar situations have also appeared in Xinjiang and Tibet, where bilingual education has gradually shifted toward a Mandarin-dominated teaching system. Formally, this transformation is explained as “improving employment competitiveness,” but in actual effect, it also means transforming ethnic languages from “a medium of education” into “a cultural symbol,” with their functions significantly compressed.
From an institutional logic perspective, when the state continuously strengthens a unified language and cultural symbols in education, media, and public space, diversity appears to be acknowledged, but in reality, it is difficult to obtain an equal position.
This model can be understood as a form of “structural assimilation”: differences are allowed to exist but must operate within a unified framework.
The law states that “religion should adapt to socialist society,” an expression that has already appeared in existing policies in China. The key issue lies in who defines the standard of “adaptation,” and how the boundaries are drawn.
In Xinjiang, a series of governance measures surrounding religious activities have long attracted attention. For example, the approval and management of religious venues, the regulation of religious content, and restrictions on religious behavior. These measures are usually explained within the framework of “de-extremification” and “counterterrorism.”
In Tibet, religious activities are also strictly regulated, especially in areas such as religious organizations, reincarnation recognition, and religious education, where the state holds decisive influence.
From the perspective of the state, this governance model aims to prevent risks and maintain stability; but from the perspective of rights, it raises an important question: when religious practice must conform to standards set by the state, is religious freedom still a “right,” or has it transformed into a “permitted activity”?
This transformation means that religion is no longer an independent social sphere but is incorporated into the unified political and governance system of the regime.
The law repeatedly mentions “opposing separatism,” “preventing risks,” and “maintaining national security.” These expressions reflect an important signal: ethnic issues have been incorporated into the national security framework for understanding and handling.
In political science, this process is called “securitization.” Once an issue is defined as a security problem, its mode of governance changes—for example, policy priority increases, methods become more forceful, and rights give way to stability.
Xinjiang’s governance model is a typical example. Under the background of counterterrorism and de-extremification, large-scale social management measures have been implemented. These measures are regarded in official narratives as necessary means to maintain security and stability, but in external observation, they have triggered ongoing controversy regarding human rights and freedom.
When “expressions of ethnic identity” are interpreted as “potential risks,” the normal development space of ethnic culture and social life will be extremely compressed.
From the perspective of institutional design, the law sets requirements for state organs, public officials, social organizations, and citizens. However, careful analysis reveals that the law provides more specific behavioral regulations and clearer responsibilities for citizens and organizations, while constraints on state organs are mostly principled requirements, and accountability mechanisms are vague.
For example, the law stipulates that if state organs “fail to perform their duties,” they will be “ordered to make corrections” or disciplined, but there is a lack of independent supervisory mechanisms to ensure the implementation of accountability.
This structure means that the law emphasizes top-down governance responsibility rather than bottom-up rights protection.
In the absence of an independent judiciary and external supervision in China, rights provisions are difficult to translate into operational mechanisms in reality.
The law repeatedly uses expressions such as “undermining ethnic unity” and “concepts unfavorable to ethnic unity.” These concepts have clear political orientation but lack clear legal boundaries.
The problem caused by this ambiguity is that different regions and departments may have different interpretations in similar cases, making it difficult to unify enforcement standards, and rendering the boundary of legality for individual behavior uncertain.
In practice, such concepts are used to restrict speech, academic research, or cultural expression, especially when involving ethnic history, religious issues, or policy discussions.
It is particularly noteworthy that the law emphasizes, in the “ethnic education” of minors, the promotion of love for the Communist Party of China, and specifically mentions its implementation in Hong Kong and Macau, as well as behavioral constraints on overseas organizations and individuals.
“Article 20: People’s governments at all levels shall promote the integration of the requirement to forge a strong sense of the Chinese nation community into family, family education, and family traditions.“
Parents or other guardians of minors shall, in accordance with the law, fulfill their responsibilities for family education, educating and guiding minors to love the Communist Party of China, love the motherland, love the people, love the Chinese nation, establish the concept that the Chinese nation is one family, and shall not instill in minors ideas that are unfavorable to ethnic unity and progress.
”Article 21: The state supports the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region and the Macao Special Administrative Region in carrying out education on the history of the Chinese nation, Chinese culture, and national conditions, guiding compatriots in Hong Kong and Macao to consciously safeguard national sovereignty, security, and development interests.”
“Article 63: Organizations and individuals outside the territory of the People’s Republic of China that carry out acts that undermine ethnic unity and progress or create ethnic division against the People’s Republic of China shall be held legally accountable in accordance with the law.”
As I write this article, due to the ambiguity of the Ethnic Unity and Progress Promotion Law, the blade of illegality may already be hanging over my head.
In summary, the Ethnic Unity and Progress Promotion Law construct a grand narrative of the “Chinese nation community.” In this narrative, unity is placed at the core, while differences are incorporated into a unified framework for adjustment. The issue is not “unity” itself, but how differences are treated and how rights are guaranteed when unity becomes the highest principle.
From the concrete practices in Xinjiang, Tibet, Inner Mongolia, and other regions, China’s current governance model for ethnic differences takes unity as the goal, stability as the priority, and political security as the boundary.
Within this framework, “equality” is more a form of formal consistency rather than substantive protection of diversity; “respect” must be realized within predetermined political boundaries.
Therefore, the fundamental problem of this law can be summarized as follows: in language it emphasizes diversity and inclusiveness, while in structure it strengthens unity and control; it transforms ethnic issues from a “rights issue” into a “governance issue,” and further incorporates them into a “security issue.”
Thus, law no longer serves as the primary tool to restrain power, but becomes a mechanism for integrating society and shaping identity.
And this is precisely the deeper institutional root for questioning the “hypocrisy” of laws issued by the Chinese government.
