Unlikely Immigrants: Xinjiang White Russians in the United States

During the month of June, I spent quite a bit of time at the National Archives in College Park, Maryland. I’ve already posted a few photos I found taken by the illustrious J. Hall Paxton, but I thought I’d introduce something else I discovered.

Anyone who has ever been to the National Archives in College Park knows of its immensity, its openness, and, most of all, its unpredictably. I was initially researching China’s relations with the Soviet Union in Xinjiang after the “peaceful liberation” in 1949, hoping to expand upon my previous research on this topic using Chinese materials. But, as you might anticipate, the most interesting materials I found had nothing to do with CCP-Soviet relations in Xinjiang. Instead, I found myself flipping through nearly 150 pages of memos sent back and forth between offices in the State Department concerning the immigration of twenty-four “White Russians” from Xinjiang. The documents were dated between 1949 and 1952, and explained that at least 100 White Russians had tried to flee Urumqi in September 1949.

Douglas Mackiernan, CIA Agent in Urumqi

The Russians were good friends of the U.S. Consulate and apparently knew Douglas Mackiernan quite well. Mackiernan had made a last ditch effort to have the Russians evacuated in September, but the State Department could not risk dispatching a transport plane to Urumqi with thousands of PLA troops under Wang Zhen and Wang Enmao”s command at Xinjiang’s doorstep. The Russians feared what life would be like under the CCP. After all, most of them (or their parents) had fled from the Soviet Union in the 1920s and 1930s and relocated to Northern Xinjiang. With the establishment of the East Turkestan Republic in 1944, and the overwhelming Soviet presence inside the regime, the Russians fled once again– this time to the Guomindang capital in Xinjiang, Urumqi. With the collapse of the Guomindang in autumn 1949, however, they like anticipated disaster under the new regime.

Osman Batur, awaiting his public execution in 1951.

After receiving a negative response from the State Department, the Russians left Urumqi and fled towards Barkol Lake. Osman Batur and his Kazakh herdsmen had already convened at Barkol, and welcomed the Russians. Mackieran, Frank Bessac, and Vasili Zvansov shortly arrived at the Lake as well. Anyone familiar with Osman will know that he remained at the lake until February 1950, when the need for spring pastures caused him to lead his men and herds elsewhere. The Russians followed Osman. In Chinese sources, they are referred to as his “bodyguards,” although it is unclear if they thought of themselves as such.

Yulbars Khan

The details and exact dates are still hard to verify, but the former Guomindang Uyghur administrator Yulbars Khan joined Osman and the Russians that spring. Osman and Yulbars both recognized the need to evade the CCP and the PLA, but the two had different opinions about which directions they should travel. Yulbars opted to return towards Hami, but Osman resisted. The White Russians grew uneasy and their confidence in Osman grew smaller and smaller each day. The White Russians apparently had good foresight. Shortly afterwards (maybe April 1950?)  about 20 of the Russians left to gather supplies. While they were gone, the remaining White Russians and Kazakhs were taken by surprise when PLA troops raided their camp. Osman’s forces were decimated. What happened to the roughly 70 White Russians who were with him is unclear, although it appears that around twenty of them were killed while more than forty were taken prisoner.

The survivors did not know whether Osman himself had even survived, but they could not have been confident. They fled towards Yulbars Khan, who had earlier told the Russians that they could join him. But Yulbars was also under constant attack from the PLA. Together Yulbars and the Russians decided to flee towards Tibet. As best as I can tell, they stayed near or crisscrossed Xinjiang’s borders with Gansu and Qinghai as they moved across the desert towards Tibet. Although their path is unclear, the survivors recalled that the PLA remained close by for much of the journey.

Although they traveled together, I speculate that tensions ran high between Yulbars and the Russians. They eventually separated prior to arriving at the Tibetan border, which the Russians reached in October 1950. In Godfrey Lias’ book Kazak Exodus, he recalls a scene in Lhasa where a group of Russians–presumably these same Russians– had heard that Yulbars had killed a friend of theirs, a former GMD official named Saalis:

And when we reached Lhasa and were riding through the streets on our beasts, thirty-five White Russian soldiers escaping from Tur-kistan passed by and called out in the Turki language to know whose children we were. I said: ‘I am Abdu Satr, son of Saalis.’ One of the Russians shouted: ‘Saalis? Saalis is my friend. Where is he?’ and when I told him, he told the others and they all shouted together: ‘Where is that man, Yolbars, for we would kill him.’ So I pointed to him as he rode behind me and they rushed at him all together. But the Tibetan soldiers resisted and others joined them and began to take away the Russians’ weapons. Then the Russians resisted in their turn, not wishing to lose their arms, and they fled out of Lhasa swiftly, shouting to us that they would see us in Calcutta. But I cannot say whether they ever got there.”

Although they arrived in tact in Tibet, Tibetan officials were highly suspicious of the Russians and constantly had them put under house arrest. The Russians explained they simply wanted to continue onto India, where they hoped to secure passage to a western country. Fortunately for them, several sympathetic Indian officials in Tibet intervened on their behalf. After several months in Tibet, the Russians were finally allowed to enter India in July 1951. They promptly went to Calcutta, where they met U.S. consular officials. The U.S. State Department hadn’t heard from the Russians since September 1949, when Mackiernan made a plea for their evacuation. Officials in Washington, DC, were not quite sure what to do with the Russians, but after the Tolstoy Foundation offered to sponsor their immigration, the State Department helped to facilitate their arrival in New York. In March 1952, twenty White Russians from Xinjiang stepped foot on American soil—and tomorrow, I will meet one of the last remaining survivors of this group.