Good afternoon everyone, ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests,

My name is Temulun Togochog. I am an 18-year old Southern Mongolian-American activist working with my father Enghebatu Togochog whom some of you may know. I was born and raised in the United States after my parents came here seeking political asylum. I stand before you today to use my privilege as an American born citizen to speak on behalf the voiceless, the Southern Mongolians. Also known to the world as “the People of Inner Mongolia”, we are a people whose religious freedom, cultural heritage and very identity are under relentless assault. For thousands of years, Mongolians have lived on the vast steppe guided by two intertwined spiritual traditions: Buddhism and shamanism. We are a Buddhist nation deeply shaped by the teachings of compassion, wisdom, and non-violence. At the same time, we have preserved our ancient shamanic practices, which root us to the land, to our ancestors, and to the spirits of nature. Shamanism promotes a world view that emphasizes the reciprocal relationships with the natural world and finds guidance and spirits of nature and our ancestors whiles Buddhism teaches altruism and selflessness. This blend of Buddhism and shamanism is not just a religion for us. It is the very foundation of our world view, our ethics and our culture.

Despite the peaceful nature of our religious belief, our spiritual heritage of Southern Mongolia is currently being devasted. During repeated waves of political campaigns, most notoriously the Cultural Revolution, the Chinese government carried out a systematic destruction of Mongolian belief systems. Thousands of Buddhist temples were razed to the ground. Lamas and monks were persecuted. Sacred texts and libraries were burned. Rituals that had survived for centuries vanished overnight. What occurred was not simply an attack on religion, but an attack on the soul of a people. In the spiritual environment where religion is all-encompassing and wholistic, and its teachings of oneness and unified whole connect all lives from spirits. Religious attack is not confined to just one facet of life. In this kind of environment, in Southern Mongolia, religious attack is a systemic destruction of an entire culture and its people.

In the decades since, Beijing has tried to project an image of “restoration.” A few temples have been rebuilt, some sacred sites reopened. However, this restoration is hollow. It does not return the freedom of belief to our people. It does not reinstate our spiritual leaders. Instead, these sites serve two alternate motives: first, to show the outside world that China “allows” Mongolians to practice their religion; second, to generate tourism revenue for the authorities. In reality, the state controls every sermon, every ritual, every monk.

Today in Southern Mongolia, Mongolians are forbidden from freely venerating the Dalai Lama, the Panchen Erdeni, or our own highest spiritual leader, the Jebtsundamba Khutughtu, whose 10th reincarnation was enthroned in independent Mongolia with the blessings of His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Southern Mongolians are not allowed to have any religious contact with our brothers and sisters in Northern Mongolia or with Tibetan Buddhists, despite centuries of shared history and spiritual exchange.

Even within the temples that do exist, monks and nuns are forced to attend political study sessions. They are compelled to display portraits of Xi Jinping where images of the Dalai Lama once hung. According to Arjaa Rinpoche, also known as Ajaa Gegeen, the former head of the Mongol-Tibetan Buddhist Center in Bloomington, the Chinese government has completely abolished the reincarnation system in Southern Mongolia. Even in some Tibetan areas it is at least nominally tolerated, but for Mongolians it has been entirely extinguished.

Our ancient shamanic practices are also under strict surveillance and distortion. Sacred rituals such as the offering at “oboo” cairns are tightly monitored. In some cases, these rituals are mocked, scorned, and ridiculed. What was once a sacred ceremony connecting us to the land and to the spirits is now treated as a performance under watchful eyes.

China’s policy does not stop at religion. It extends to language, the lifeblood of our culture. In 2023, Mongolian language education in Southern Mongolia was completely banned. For a people already stripped of our traditional way of life, our land, and our spiritual freedom, our language is our last defense of national identity. Now that too is under attack.

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is not merely repression. It is cultural genocide. The Chinese government’s goal is not only to destroy our right to believe but to eradicate our entire identity and turn us into a homogenous Chinese population. By destroying our temples, silencing our lamas, banning our language, and ridiculing our sacred rituals, Beijing is trying to wipe out everything that makes us Mongolian.

As I share these words with you, I cannot separate them from my own personal story. I was born in the United States into the family of Southern Mongolian exiles. Growing up here, I learned what it means to live with freedom of belief. My parents are able to practice both Buddhism and our ancient shamanist traditions without any fear or interference. Every November, our community gathers in New Jersey for the great Chinggis Khan Ceremony, where we freely perform our shamanistic rituals, offer prayers, and celebrate our heritage. At home, we proudly hang a portrait of His Holiness the Dalai Lama on the wall, and no one comes to tear it down. We observe our traditional holidays and ceremonies without ever needing permission from the authorities. Here in America, we often take such freedoms for granted, but for us, they are a reminder of what has been denied to our people in our homeland.

The situation could not be more different in Southern Mongolia. My cousins, aunts, and uncles still living there cannot practice their religion openly. They cannot freely venerate the Dalai Lama or observe the rituals of our ancestors without fear of punishment. Today, they are not even permitted to learn or speak their native Mongolian language in public. While I grew up with freedom, they grow up with surveillance, fear, and silence. This sharp contrast between my life and theirs shows me how precious religious freedom truly is, and why the struggle of Southern Mongolians to preserve their faith, language, and culture is not only urgent but vital for the survival of an entire people.

But we are not giving up. Southern Mongolians still believe in the values of freedom, dignity, and self-determination. We still believe that our spiritual heritage, Buddhism and shamanism together, is a treasure not only for us but for humanity. And we appeal to you, the international community, to stand with us. Religious freedom is a fundamental human right. Cultural survival is a fundamental human right. The world must not look away.

I close with this message: The spirit of the Mongolian steppe cannot be extinguished by bulldozers or propaganda. As long as a single Mongolian remembers the prayers of our ancestors, the teachings of the Buddha, and the songs of the shamans, our culture will survive. But we need your solidarity. We need your voice. And we need your action before it is too late.