URUMQI, China — Fond of denim and lace, fluent in multiple languages and proud of her success as an international business translator, Luna appears to be a model of the assimilated Uighur that the Chinese government is striving for. She grew up in the far-western region of Xinjiang, where marrying and mothering was the paramount role for women of her largely Muslim, Turkic-speaking minority ethnic group, and eventually moved to distant Beijing, where she feels more comfortable among the country’s Han majority than in the conservative world of her youth.

But Luna, who like others interviewed for this article asked to be identified by a nickname to avoid retaliation by the police, is increasingly torn between her professional ambition and her outrage toward official restrictions targeting the Uighur way of life. “The more the Chinese government forces us to live a Han lifestyle, the more we will find ways to express our Uighur identity,” she said.

As the Chinese authorities in Xinjiang intensify an increasingly deadly campaign framed as a battle against Islamic separatists, they have cast their net over a wide range of Uighur practices, including the wearing of veils and long beards, which are seen as dangerous signs of religious extremism. Some Uighurs have responded with alarm, redoubling efforts to safeguard centuries-old traditions they fear could disappear. Critics argue that the government’s increasingly assertive policies have inadvertently bolstered the appeal of conservative Islam, with its emphasis on morality and traditional roles for women.

Stuck in the middle of this intensifying culture war are Uighur women who want to embrace modernity without forsaking their heritage.