Fear and anger in China's far west By Jehangir S. Pocha The Boston Globe
On a recent Friday, the holy day of Islam, crowds swelled inside the antique Jaman Mosque, the largest in this ancient town in the far western Chinese region of Xinjiang, home to the nation's small but restive Muslim minority. The turbaned and bearded clerics who preached to the gathered faithful had all been vetted for their political beliefs by local Chinese authorities, who determine what sermons they can give, what version of the Koran they may use, and where and how religious gatherings can be held. The Chinese government forces all Muslims in China to adhere to a state- controlled version of their religion, and banners placed around town warn locals not to stray from the official faith. The imams are not even allowed to issue the call to prayer using a public address system. The Chinese government has tightened its constraints on the Uighur ethnic minority in western China as officials fear a rise in militant Islam. It is also acutely aware of the growing strategic importance of Xinjiang in Central Asia and the large oil and natural gas reserves under its soil. In turn, resentment among the Uighurs toward perceived repression by the Chinese has intensified. And increasingly, the Uighurs are speaking out and demanding autonomy, thanks in part to the emergence of articulate Uighur voices at home and in exile. Though Xinjiang is ostensibly an autonomous region of China, Wang Lequan, the local Communist Party secretary, has publicly called for Uighurs to learn more Mandarin and adopt more Chinese customs. To dissuade Uighur youths from inheriting their traditional Islamic culture, the government has banned children from entering mosques, studying Islam or celebrating Islamic holidays. The fear and state control under which Uighurs live in Xinjiang was apparent when some foreign journalists, who are generally not allowed into the region, were taken on a tour by Chinese officials last month. The journalists were carefully monitored, but when they did manage to go out alone, most Uighurs were too scared to talk about any antipathy they might feel toward the government. A man who identified himself only as Abdel rubbed his clean-shaven chin anxiously as his friends finished their dinner of goat soup and noodles. "The government doesn't allow young people here to grow beards," he said as the sun set. "If you do, they will send you to the forced-labor camps." Resentment against Beijing has been building here since 1949, when Mao Zedong annexed the independent nation of East Turkestan and began to assimilate it into mainland China. To do this, Beijing imposed strictures on Islam and sought to dilute the culture of the local Uighurs, a Central Asian people with a Turkic-Persian culture. Abdel said the biggest problem Uighurs face is that of social and economic exclusion. "The truth is, where you see money there will be Han, where there is poverty you will see us Uighurs," Abdel said, refering to the China's ethnic-Han majority. Some Chinese officials say they are baffled by the criticism that China receives for its policies in Xinjiang. "On the one hand the world complains that Pakistan doesn't do enough to control its madrasas, and on the other they complain when China does not allow them," said one official who asked not to be identified, referring to Muslim religious schools. Though Uighurs have traditionally followed a moderate blend of Sunni Islam and Sufi mysticism strongly influenced by local folklore and rural traditions, a rising Islamic mood is palpable in Xinjiang. More and more women are wearing veils, residents say, and mosques are packed on Fridays. Mostly this is due to a rising interest in religion that is common across much of China, where people are reacting to the intense atheism of the Mao era. But in Xinjiang, rising Islamic sentiment has also taken on a political hue. Some separatists have conducted armed attacks against Chinese targets, and Chinese officials say they are also behind most of the public protests that have rocked Xinjiang in recent years. After the Sept. 11 attacks on the United States, Chinese authorities have used the global war on terrorism to crack down on suspected separatists. Plainclothes policemen routinely roam the rustic mosques and bustling markets of Uighur towns. Human rights groups and local residents say that anyone thought to be acting suspiciously is hustled away and often punished without a fair trial. The situation in this remote western area has received much less global attention than that of neighboring Tibet Autonomous Region, where Buddhist culture has been systematically undermined by Beijing. But that is changing. Rebiya Kadeer, an Uighur exile living in Washington, who had been considered a leading candidate for this year's Nobel Peace Prize, says the world is taking notice of the Uighurs' suffering from what they see as Chinese colonization. "The Chinese have denied us basic rights and freedoms - that's why we now want them out of our land," she said in a telephone interview. Faced with the might of the Chinese state, many Uighurs fear that their unique culture, which also includes its own language, will soon fade into history. Ahmet, a 16-year-old student in Kashgar, a city near Xinjiang's southern border with Pakistan, said the solution his parents are holding out is simple. "They tell me to marry a Han girl," he said. "That way we can get some chances. Otherwise, as Uighurs, life is very hard." http://www.iht.com/articles/2006/11/21/news/muslims.php _________________________________________________________________ Stay up-to-date with your friends through the Windows Live Spaces friends list. http://clk.atdmt.com/MSN/go/msnnkwsp0070000001msn/direct/01/?href=http://spaces.live.com/spacesapi.aspx?wx_action=create&wx_url=/friends.aspx&mk
