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FEATURE-China's Uighur Muslims
say feel alienated
By Godwin Chellam
23 Sep 2003 05:40:54 GMT
KASHGAR, China, Sept 23 (Reuters) - The shops and
cafes in front of the centuries-old Id Kah mosque in
the ancient Chinese Silk Road city of Kashgar were
once a gathering point for many of the city's Muslim
Uighurs.
Until three months ago that is. In their place now
stands a swathe of broken land the size of two
football fields that is dotted with piles of refuse
and designated as the future site of a vast square, a
shopping mall and a motorway.
Progress? Not for some.
"Look! Look what they've done to our holy place. Every
day we are losing a bit of our culture, and people
wonder why there are tensions between Hans and Uighurs,"
flatbread hawker Nizilghur, 29, shouted over the din
of a nearby bazaar.
His outburst captures the frustration of Uighurs in
China's westernmost Xinjiang region after five decades
of communist rule and resentment over what is seen as
discrimination by Han Chinese and a widening wealth
gap that sparked riots, bombings and assassinations in
the 1990s.
The worst rioting left nine dead and more than 200
wounded in Yining near the border with Kazakhstan in
February 1997.
China has been hoping to allay mutual distrust by
pushing what it sees as the magic pill of economic
development, most recently with its "Go West"
masterplan to bring the fruits of economic progress to
the remote hinterland.
It is also working closely with Russia and its
neighbours in the former Soviet Muslim republics in
central Asia, with whom it held a meeting in Beijing
on Tuesday, to meet the challenge of radical Islam in
the region.
Money is indeed evident in Xinjiang, from glitzy new
high-rises in the capital, Urumqi, to motorways
clogged with Honda Accords and Volkswagen Passats.
WHO BENEFITS?
The question is who, and how many, actually get their
hands on the wealth.
"The kind of industries set up there benefit either
Han Chinese coming in from the east or Uighurs who
have been educated in Chinese," said Michael Dillon,
director of the Centre for Contemporary Chinese
Studies at Britain's University of Durham.
Xinjiang's highest-ranking official defended Beijing's
policies.
"Economic disparity stems from your abilities. Incomes
are ... not judged by ethnic groupings," Wang Lequan,
Xinjiang's party boss and a Han Chinese, told visiting
reporters.
But even the Shandong native, who has lived in
Xinjiang for 13 years, conceded: "The central
government has invested in the west for three years,
but because conditions in the region are less than
favourable, there are many constraints."
In a white paper released last year, Beijing said
fixed asset investments in Xinjiang totalled 501.5
billion yuan ($60.6 billion) from 1950 to 2001, while
government subsidies rose to 18.38 billion yuan in
2001 from 11.9 billion in 2000.
But many Uighurs feel left out -- and not only
economically.
"How many Uighurs do you see in top business or
government posts? There may be a handful, but it's a
tiny percentage," said Manzana, a petite Uighur
teacher from Aksu.
"They talk about integration and development. They
talk about raising our standard of living. How come I
don't see it?"
Xinjiang separatists have been fighting for the last
150 years for an independent East Turkestan homeland,
claiming a region they have inhabited for more than
1,250 years.
Formally incorporated as a province of China in 1884,
Xinjiang saw a brief period of virtual independence
from 1938 when it sought aid from the Soviet Union.
China regained control after the Communists swept to
power in 1949.
That began a tide of transmigration. That year, the
United Nations estimates that ethnic Han Chinese made
up just seven percent of Xinjiang's population. That
figure has now risen to 40 percent.
"This is the land of our fathers, grandfathers and
great-grandfathers. You want us to give it up?"
snorted Yasin, a fiery barber in Kashgar, a city of
3.5 million that is pungent with the aroma of animals
and raw sewage and for two millennia served as a
trading post on the fabled Silk Road.
TENSIONS SIMER
Today, Turkic-speaking Uighurs and Mandarin-speaking
Han live side-by-side in a sparsely populated region
rich with oil and minerals. Few dare to talk openly
about the tensions simmering only just below the
surface.
The crackdown on Uighur separatists has gained
momentum since the September 11, 2001, attacks on New
York and Washington, although Washington has urged
Beijing not to use the war on terror as a pretext to
crack down on political dissent.
Indeed, the Han and Uighur cultures differ greatly.
Many Uighurs live by Xinjiang time -- two hours behind
the official Beijing time that is imposed China-wide.
"The Han and us Uighurs never mix. We are as different
as night and day. They don't understand our language,
our religion and our culture," said Abdeluky, a
sprightly 79-year-old.
Experts say the divide will persist for some time to
come.
The only way the Chinese government can conceive of
dealing with ethnic tension is either through
repression or economic investment, said Dru Gladney at
the University of Hawaii.
"They've tried both for 50 years with no real tangible
improvement," said the expert on China's Muslims.
($1=8.277 Yuan)
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