IT IS as much a 60 million member social class as it is a political party in the western sense, and whatever self-description it attaches to its ideology, the label ‘communist’ does not strike most observers as a particularly apt or well-deserved.

Yet some kind of residual solidarity with the Communist Party of China somehow deludes a surprising number of British leftists into passive sympathy for whatever policies Beijing chooses to follow.

That much was evident in some of the coverage of the unrest in Tibet last year, and is likely to show itself again in the coming days, as the blogosphere gets to grips with the weekend riots in Urumqi, the worst violence seen in China since the bloody suppression of the pro-democracy protests in Tiananmen Square 20 years ago.

Beijing’s claim that any tension in the region has been artificially got up by US-based separatist elements is obviously tenuous. Rebiya Kaheer has neither the popular clout nor the religiously-based standing of the Dalai Lama.

Both Tibetan and Uighur opposition to Chinese rule share common roots in cultural and religious persecution and discrimination, evidenced by the inferior treatment of these national minorities in terms of education, health and employment.

Meanwhile, the relative prosperity flowing from China’s turn to capitalism has not extended beyond the coastal provinces of the east; Xinjiang and Tibet are simply seen as useful sources of raw materials.

That point underlines that both countries are classic examples of internal colonies, right up to the point where they are considered suitable destinations for settlement by the surplus Han Chinese population.

Their case for self-determination is as clear as it is in Palestine, Western Sahara, Chechnya, Tamil Nadu or Kashmir.

National oppression on the scale seen in these two regions should be readily recognisable to anyone on the left, even if the national oppressors promote themselves as reds when the occasion demands.