I won’t try to pretend to know much about Xinjiang or have anything insightful to say about the riots last month. I’ve been there twice & saw some amazing things. The most beautiful landscape I’ve seen anywhere in the world is in the Altay area bordering Siberia & Kazakhstan. Kashgar was also amazing - I managed to visit this spring before the remains of the old city were demolished. But I can’t access my photos now because Picasa is blocked, along with Twitter & Facebook, ever since the riots in Urumqi last month (Flickr, Youtube & Xanga had already been blocked for months at least. We’re lucky CSG was mysteriously unblocked a few months ago - which means I can start blogging here again, hopefully along with many other old & new bloggers in the growing CSG family).

{Update: Flickr is unblocked now, and I uploaded some Xinjiang photos - mainly taken by my friend Syble.}

When I heard about the riots I tried to contact my friends in Urumqi but, as you probably know, both phones & the internet were shut down there. What you may not now is that the internet is still down (for ordinary people anyway), along with cell phone text messaging. (Last week the government unblocked a few websites, including banking, stock exchange, & university enrollment, according to the Guardian.)  Regular phone service is back up, but only for domestic calls. A friend studying abroad has been able to communicate with her parents in Urumqi only by calling relatives in other parts of China & having them call her parents. There’s a rumor the block may end after the PRC’s 60th anniversary on October 1, but the communication blackout in Tibet lasted six months.

I’ve been looking around for good & in-depth writings on the riots & their background, but it’s hard because searches for that sort of thing are blocked. The Guardian seems to have the best reports, as far as journalism goes (the most useful I’ve seen on the immediate background is this one). As far as political analysis goes, I’ve seen a couple, rather disapointing attempts. A new piece worth reading on the broader historical context (despite the cliche title) is “China’s Wild West” by Martine Bulard, from La Monde diplomatique. Some excerpts:

But things started to go wrong in the early 1990s. On one hand, Islam became politicised: there was an increase in the number of meshreps (a sort of local religious committee which sometimes engaged in protest) and organisations such as the East Turkestan independence movement, which is suspected of al-Qaida links, were set up. And at the same time, the new-found independence of the former Soviet republics of central Asia just across the border raised hopes of independence for the Uyghurs, which had previously been ignored. There was even talk of “Uyghurstan”, uniting the Uyghur communities on both sides of the Chinese border.

Saniya, who teaches ancient literature in Urumqi, still remembers a family reunion in 1992 when her mother’s sister, who had fled to Uzbekistan during the cultural revolution, returned home. “Then it was our turn to go to Tashkent. It was a shock. We noticed that the Uzbeks had a better life than us and they’d preserved their traditions better than we had. But at the same time there was no heavy religious element.” From that time on, she continued, “the question of independence became very important. There’s no cultural, religious or linguistic barrier between Xinjiang and Uzbekistan. People in Tashkent often asked us what we were waiting for. ‘We did it,’ they’d say, ‘so why don’t you?’ Uyghur pride was at stake. It was a bit like a challenge.”

Such feelings probably contributed to the birth of Uyghur movements with links to Pakistan and Turkey, some of which had separatist ambitions. Even if they didn’t have a major impact on the population at large, there were demonstrations and other incidents throughout the 1990s. Beijing reacted in three ways. It used diplomacy to combat the “three forces” (extremism, separatism and terrorism) by cutting all links between the Uyghur activists and their neighbours (the central Asian republics and Pakistan) and, especially through the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (see Beijing shanghais the central Asian republics). It also engaged in development and modernisation, using public finances and the military-run Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps (XPCC) – better known as bingtuans or “military brigades” – and by attracting Han Chinese to the region. And finally it resorted to close surveillance and repression.[...]

Xinjiang’s economy is based on raw materials, agriculture and, to a lesser extent, tourism, and a good half of the engines of economic growth are in the hands of the XPCC or bingtuans. Comprehending this state within a state is essential to any understanding of this far-flung province of China.

Bingtuans were created in 1954 to safeguard China’s borders and clear land. They recruited soldiers demobbed after the civil war, committed communists ready to take civilisation to the countryside and Han Chinese (whether communists or not) who had been sent into exile or to labour camps for “re-education” [...] Twelve bingtuans were established in places such as [H]eilongjiang, Tibet and Inner Mongolia. After Mao’s death in 1976, all of them were abolished – all except those in Xinjiang, which are more active today than ever.[...]

The bingtuans are still under the control of the People’s Liberation Army. The districts they control have a population of 1.9 million. They have powers to levy taxes. They own 1,500 businesses, including construction companies, several of which are quoted on the stock market. They also run two universities and control a third of the agricultural land in Xinjiang, a quarter of its industrial output and between half and two-thirds of its exports. (Bizarrely, the bingtuans are also the biggest producer of ketchup in the world; they even bought up a French company, Conserves de Provence, in 2004 through their subsidiary Xinjiang Chalkis Co.) [...]

At a historic meeting about the stability of Xinjiang province in 1996, the CPC politburo invited communists to “encourage the young people of China to come and settle in areas designated as the XPCC”. But this is not the only conduit of immigration that has brought about a pronounced shift in the make-up of the region’s population (Han Chinese have gone from just 6% of the population in 1949 to 40.6% in 2006). Since restrictions on internal movement were lifted, Han Chinese have come here hoping to make their fortune in what they see as a new frontier. Poor peasants (mingong) from provinces where income levels are even lower than Xinjiang, such as Sezuan, Shaanxi and Gansu, have followed their lead. These people only just scrape by in low-paid jobs, so to call them “colonisers” as the western media often do, is misleading. [...]

On the other hand, dating the “colonisation of the province” to the arrival of the communists in 1949, as the World Congress of Uyghurs would have it (a view accepted by several French newspapers), doesn’t reflect reality either. The first Chinese political presence in Xinjiang dates from the Manchu dynasty in the 1750s. In the wake of rebellions, Daoguang, the eighth emperor, created the first “reconstruction offices” as part of a policy of assimilation in which the powers that be were reluctant to depend on local leaders as they were “corrupt and harmful to the policy of central state”. In 1884 the province became part of China. (By way of comparison, New Mexico became part of the US shortly before that (in 1846), as did California (1850).)

Most Uyghurs are not in fact calling for independence, but greater justice and recognition of their identity. “We may be better off than we were a decade ago,” Abderrahman says, “but we’re still lagging behind.” GDP stands at 15,016 yuan per inhabitant in Shihezi (which is 90% Han), 6,771 in Aksu (30% Han), 3,497 in Kashgar (8.5%) and 2,445 yuan in Hotan (3.2%) (6).

These flagrant, ethnically based inequalities are pushing the Uyghurs towards Islam, the only vehicle for their opposition and means of affirming their identity. Already the sight of women in burqas is no longer a rarity. There is a clear danger that the fundamentalists will be the beneficiaries of this shift. Extremist groups are still marginal, but that could change if Beijing refuses to engage in any sort of dialogue.

Also see the English & Chinese on-the-spot reports of A. from China Daily (scroll down to July 7 & read up). I disagree with his apparent political perspective (any application of the term “terrorist” to civilians immediately puts me off; what we should highlight here is the diversion of oppressed/ excluded people’s resentment through the lens of racialized ethnicity, away from the source of oppression & onto imagined ethnic enemies. Also it’s clear that the riots were sparked by the incident in Shaoguan, even if overseas separatists may have played a role in fanning that flame, & I’ve not seen any evidence that the rioters were paid off, as he claims). But A’s reports contain some details I haven’t seen elsewhere. For example one witness says “Sunday’s rioters were mostly from southern parts of Xinjiang – “they had different accents, wore different clothes, and beat up even Uygur girls who wore short sleeves (for violating fundamentalist customs).’” Another witness indicates most of the Uyghur rioters were unemployed migrants, & that Urumqi residents didn’t identify with them. Another report focuses on a young Uyghur woman who feels threatened by a growing trend of conservatism regarding women’s roles. These cases correspond to the idea, suggested by Bulard, that a growing sense of exclusion among (a certain section of) the Uyghur population is finding expression in religious fundamentalism. I don’t want to jump to that conclusion based on so little evidence, but that would definitely fit in with the global trend.

One point where my visit to Xinjiang a few months ago differs from Bulard’s impression is that, in Urumqi, there was a palpable sense of inter-ethnic tension or even hostility. For example, in my few days there I heard on several occasions local Hans warn outsider Hans to beware of “minorities” (少数民族). Then when a Turkish friend mentioned his nationality to a Uyghur migrant he met in Beijing, the latter replied to him in Uyghur (which is very similar to Turkish), “I, too, am Turkish, in reality. I’m not Chinese.” So when the riot broke out on July 5, & then when the Hans retaliated the next day, I wasn’t very surprised - just sad.

Anyway, readers, let me know if you’ve run across anything more informative about the riots & their background, or their political implications.

Update: I just saw this commentary by an American who taught at Xinjiang University for three years, published on the China Southern website (via CDT):

The issue of terrorism is an important one to address.  The government maintains that the violence on July 5 was the result of an organized effort.  Frankly, this seems dubious to me.  Whether it is factual or not, the question of why would Uyghurs would want to do this remains.  What conditions would lead to such violence?

I can only speak from my experience living and working there for several years.  I only have stories to tell, some of which are based on hearsay.  But they will give a sense of the frustrations in Xinjiang.

The day I arrived to teach at Xinjiang University, I noticed that none of the minorities wore traditional hats or veils.  A student explained to me that it is not allowed.  Nor are mustaches.  He said if students are caught praying they face punishment, even expulsion.  A fellow teacher confirmed this later.

One day a supervisor who was Han Chinese told me that Uyghurs have it very good because of preferential policies.  They can have two children and it is easier to get into college.  Later that week a Uyghur friend told me of a protest by Uyghur college graduates.  He said none of them could find jobs and that the rate of unemployment is much higher than for Han Chinese.

One day I was teaching a group of seniors in college who were looking for jobs.  One young man was frustrated because he said he encountered signs at a job fair that said: “Minorities need not apply.” [...]

The only salient point I can make at this point is that while terrorism is a real danger, it tends to obscure the core issues.  And as long as these issues go unresolved, the threat of violence will continue.  Public discussion would help resolve these issues.

The ensuing discussion is worth skimming, but mainly predictable & frustrating (how many times can people make the knee-jerk reaction “我觉得你对中国了解的不多，也许是语言不通的问题吧。凭感觉看问题难免偏颇。” [I think you don't understand China, perhaps due to language difficulties. It's hard to avoid being biased when you look at things based on (subjective) feelings.] “Looking at things based on subjective feelings” is also the stock response my students make when they disagree with a reading assignment, no matter how much evidence & rational argumentation is involved…