/PRNewswire/ -- Step back to 1951. The People's Republic of China (PRC) was in its early years. Yook Kearn Wong, an enthusiastic recruit from Guangdong Province, joined his comrades in the People's Liberation Army as they traveled west through Jiayuguan fortress in Gansu Province - the end of the Great Wall - beyond Dunhuang's famed cliff caves with their stunning murals, past the historic Jade Gate (Yumen Pass), across high plains, desert dunes and loess soil to their stations at China's frontier.

In the book At the Edge of Empire, Edward Wong - son of Yook Kearn Wong and a New York Times reporter - portrays China's remote western borderlands not merely by their remoteness from Beijing, but by their closeness to Central Asia, ancient history and diverse cultures. Yet Xinjiang, though China's westernmost region, has always served as a hub - a vital crossroads for the flow of people, ideas and trade spanning continents.

This perspective lingered with me during a trip through the Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region alongside my wife and fellow Chinese journalists - heading north to the Ili River Valley by the Kazakhstan border, and south to the storied oasis of Kuqa (Kucha). As someone who studied history before becoming a journalist and professor, I viewed Xinjiang less as a mere travel spot and more as a dynamic repository of worldwide interactions. Though often depicted today via geopolitical tensions or disputes, grasping Xinjiang requires recognizing its role as a civilizational crossroads for almost 2,000 years.

Beyond the frontier

Amid Kuqa's ancient remnants, I posed a question to my companions: How distant are we from antiquity's great hubs? Our phones quickly supplied the data. Beijing - Marco Polo's eventual destination - sits about 3,000 km east, a manageable trip by today's standards. Westward, paths led toward Baghdad, the era's premier metropolis at roughly 4,500 km; Constantinople, bridging Europe and Asia, lay 5,000 km away; and Rome, icon of the Silk Road's western terminus, some 7,000 km distant.

Xinjiang emerged as a vital channel for cultural and intellectual flows. Western imports included horses, metals and artistic styles, while eastern exports like paper, silk and inventions reshaped distant lands. Tongues blended, faiths propagated and identities shifted.

Modern Xinjiang remains a pivotal link in transcontinental networks tying economies and concepts. Central to China's Belt and Road Initiative, it bridges eastern commercial hubs to Pakistan and the Global South via the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor, and to London and Europe through the China-Europe Railway Express, dubbed the "Iron Camel Caravan." (China's Silk Road Economic Belt and 21st-Century Maritime Silk Road form the Belt and Road Initiative to enhance links along historic routes - Ed.)

Xinjiang's global significance stems from its varied terrain fostering trade paths. Northern Ili River Valley features expansive grasslands ringed by Tianshan Mountains - evoking Central Asia more than eastern China. Winters bring stark peaks; summers reveal herder pastures. We galloped on horseback through those ranges and trekked snowy trails - far indeed from Beijing.

Southern Tarim Basin contrasts sharply, ruled by the immense Taklimakan Desert (Earth's second-largest mobile sand sea after the Sahara - Ed.). Rimmed by oases like Uygur-rich Kuqa, these thrived as Silk Road southern waypoints.

Such features forged East-West conduits. Merchants, devotees and troops traversed them, connecting China to Central Asia, the Middle East and Europe. Near modern Kuqa, relics of old towns and Kizil caves evoke this era. Dramatic murals, though weathered, depict Buddhism's journey to China via these routes, borne by monks and traders.

The value of historical context

Journalists like me ponder information's journeys: how narratives cross frontiers and evolve. The Silk Road functioned as an ancient cross-border data web - a camel-driven precursor to the internet. Xinjiang stood as a prime relay point.

Centuries of flux molded Xinjiang - from Tarim Basin's early Indo-Europeans to Han (206 B.C.-A.D. 220) and Tang (618-907) advances, Qing (1644-1911) rule and PRC integration.

Its geographic and ethnic variety breeds twin identities: oasis versus steppe, sedentary versus roving. Never dominated by one culture or regime until recently, it has blended multifaceted influences.

Xinjiang gets labeled a borderland, yet it has historically been a convergence zone. My recent travels revealed enduring traces of these dynamics.

In Tianshan heights, herders roam ageless winter expanses sustaining pastoral traditions. The vast, breezy vistas framed by peaks seemed eternal - readily picturing Kyrgyz or Kazakh nomads in bygone eras, attuned to timeless cycles beyond current maps.

Kuqa's vestiges and caves recall its heyday as a bustling Silk Road nexus. There, it hits home that globalization's foundations run deep. Ages before freighters and the web, Eurasian exchanges intertwined far-flung worlds intricately.

In multimedia reporting classes, I stress context - illuminating not just events, but their significance. Xinjiang illustrates how current global trade echoes millennia-old exchanges.

It defies oversimplification too. Xinjiang defies neat boxes, forged by China's core, Central Asian and wider Eurasian strands layered across time.

From northern allure of grasslands and craggy peaks to southern Silk Road ruins and enduring towns, the area embodies a heritage of motion - of humans, merchandise and messages - molding past and present societies.

The author, Rick Dunham, served as former co-director of Tsinghua University's Global Business Journalism program, a seasoned Washington reporter and past president of the U.S. National Press Club.

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SOURCE Beijing Review