7 China is demolishing the ancient Silk Road city of Kashgar, displacing its Uyghurs with Han migrants

China is demolishing the ancient Silk Road city of Kashgar, displacing its Uyghurs with Han migrants

(1) Uyghurs of Xinjiang are descended from white people with Turkic (Hun) admixture
(2) Uyghurs - 60% European ancestry and 40% East Asian (Turkic-Hun) ancestry
(3) Tarim mummies are housed at the Ürümqi (Urumchi) Museum, Xinjiang
(4) Karakoram Hwy from Gilgit (Pakistan) to Kashgar, one of 10 most spectacular drives in the world
(5) Karakoram highway Pictures
(6) Karakoram Highway on the Roof of the World - built by China, stunningly beautiful
(7) The road between China and Pakistan, by Alice Albinia (Financial Times)
(8) A Visit to Kashgar's "Old City"
(9) Kashgar, an oasis city on the Silk Road, is being razed by the Chinese government
(10) Bulldozers reducing Kashgar Old City to rubble
(11) The heart of Kashgar is being destroyed, its Uighurs displaced (by Han migrants)
(12) To Protect an Ancient City, China Moves to Raze It
(13) Foreign reporters ordered out of China's Kashgar
(14) Kashgar was magical … what was left. A Traveller's Letter from Kashgar
(15) The End of Kashgar
(16) China's Ethnic Fault Lines - one majority nationality, the Han, and 55 minority groups
(17) Chinese leadership demands "severe punishment" of Xinjiang protestors

(1) Uyghurs of Xinjiang are descended from white people with Turkic (Hun) admixture - Peter M. July 11, 209

The Uyghurs of Xinjiang are descended from white people - the Tocharian-speakers who left us the Tarim Mummies - with Turkic (Hun) admixture. Their language is Turkic, their religion is Islam, and their culture is Central Asian.

The early Indo-Europeans - who would bequeath Indo-European languages to Europe and north India - were a pastoral people residing in the Don/Volga region north of the Black and Caspian Seas (technically in Asia), who also did some cultivation. Having tamed the horse and invented the chariot as a war vehicle, they spread out in all directions from the steppes of South Russia.

The Turkic tribes, having acquired the same chariot/horse-riding culture, also spread widely, conquering Turkey and bequeathing their language to it (although they were only a small minority there). They converted to Buddhism and Manichaeism, and then Islam.

Marija Gimbutas developed the theory of V. Gordon Childe on Aryan origins. She called the earliest Indo-European culture "kurgan", after their burial mounds: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kurgan

The Kurgan hypothesis postulates that the Proto-Indo-Europeans were the bearers of the "Kurgan" (Yamna) culture of the Black Sea and the Caucasus and west of the Urals. The hypothesis was introduced by Marija Gimbutas in 1956, combining kurgan archaeology with linguistics to locate the origins of the Proto-Indo-European (PIE) speaking peoples. She tentatively named the culture "Kurgan" after their distinctive burial mounds and traced its diffusion into Europe. This hypothesis has had a significant impact on Indo-European research. Those scholars who follow Gimbutas identify a "Kurgan culture" as reflecting an early Indo-European ethnicity which existed in the steppes and southeastern Europe from the fifth to third millennia BC. ...
{endquote}

On the Silk Road from Pakistan (the Karakoram Highway), the first town in China (on the way to Kashgar) is called Tashkurgan.

(2) Uyghurs - 60% European ancestry and 40% East Asian (Turkic-Hun) ancestry

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uyghurs

Uyghur people

Historically the term "Uyghur" was applied to a group of Turkic-speaking tribes that lived in the Altay Mountains. Along with the Göktürks (Kokturks), the Uyghurs were one of the largest and most enduring Turkic peoples living in Central Asia. ...

Today one can still see Uyghurs with light-colored skin and hair. The genetic studies show that the Uyghur (UIG) population, presenting a typical admixture of Eastern and Western anthropometric traits, results showed that UIG was formed by two-way admixture, with 60% European ancestry and 40%% East Asian (Turkic-Hun) ancestry. Overall linkage disequilibrium (LD) in UIG was similar to that in its parental populations represented in Europe and East Asia with regard to common alleles, and UIG manifested. Both the magnitude of LD and fragmentary ancestral chromosome segments indicated a long history of Uyghur. Under the assumption of a hybrid isolation (HI) model, it was estimated that the admixture event of UIG occurred about 126 [107, 146] generations ago, or 2520 [2140, 2920] years ago assuming 20 years per generation.[13] ...

Mandarin), soon after the Chinese conquest of the Tarim Basin in 1759, when the Dzungars were practically eliminated. "Historians estimate that a million people were slaughtered, and the land so devastated that it took a generation for it to recover."[15]

The name Xinjiang is considered offensive by many advocates of Uyghur independence who prefer to use historical or ethnic names such as Uyghurstan or Eastern Turkestan (with Turkestan sometimes spelled as Turkistan). ...

the war on terror. The Chinese government has often referred to Uyghur nationalists as "terrorists" and received more global support for their own "war on terror" since 9/11. Human rights organizations have become concerned that this "war on terror" is being used by the Chinese government as a pretext to repress ethnic Uyghurs.[17] Uyghur exile groups also claim that the Chinese government is suppressing Uyghur culture and religion, and responding to demands for independence with human rights violations.[18] ...

In traditional Uyghur cities like Kashgar, a vibrant bazaar town on the border of Central Asia, the authorities tore down Uyghur stalls across the central square, where Muslim men once gathered for open-air shaves before heading to the central mosque. The local government replaced them with a bland plaza patrolled by Chinese troops. In another unpopular move, Beijing offered financial incentives for ethnic Chinese migrants to come to the province and set up businesses. Now, ethnic Han Chinese dominate nearly all big businesses in the region.[19]

Many Uyghurs in the diaspora support Pan-Turkic groups. Several organizations such as the East Turkestan Party provide support for the Chinese Uyghurs.

Most Uyghur political groups have supported peaceful Uyghur nationalism, advocating independence from China. There are two separatist groups (the East Turkestan Islamic Movement and, disputedly, East Turkestan Liberation Organization) that have been involved in fighting with the Chinese army and killing the Han Chinese. ...

Most of the early Uyghur literary works were translations of Buddhist and Manichean religious texts, but there were also narrative, poetic, and epic works.[citation needed] Some of these have been translated into German, English, Russian, and Turkish. After the general population's conversion to Islam, world-renowned Uyghur scholars emerged and Uyghur literature flourished. ...

(3) Tarim mummies are housed at the Ürümqi (Urumchi) Museum, Xinjiang

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/East_Turkestan

East Turkestan, also known as [1], East Turkistan ... refers to the eastern part of the greater Turkestan region of Central Asia, and is concurrent with the present-day Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region of China. More specifically, at times, the term East Turkestan only referred to Xinjiang area south of Tien Shan; north of Tien Shan was called Dzungaria (Zungaria). [2] The area is largely inhabited by the 8 million Uyghurs, 7 million Han Chinese, 1.5 million Kazakhs and 16 other ethnic groups with significant numbers.

According to J.P. Mallory, the Chinese sources describe the existence of "white people with long hair" or the Bai people in the Shan Hai Jing, who lived beyond their northwestern border.[4]

The very well preserved Tarim mummies with Caucasoid features, often with reddish or blond hair, today displayed at the Ürümqi Museum and dated to the 3rd century BC, have been found in precisely the same area of the Tarim Basin.[5] Various nomadic tribes, such as the Yuezhi were part of the large migration of Indo-European speaking peoples who were settled in eastern Central Asia (possibly as far as Gansu) at that time. The Ordos culture situated at northern China east of the Yuezhi, are another example. ...

Blue-eyed Central Asian (Tocharian?) and East-Asian Buddhist monks, Bezeklik, Eastern Tarim Basin, 9th-10th century.[12]Both Tibet and the Uyghur Khaganate declined in the mid-9th century. The Kara-Khanid Khanate, which arose from a confederation of Turkic tribes scattered after the destruction of the Uyghur empire, took control of western Xinjiang in the 10th century and the 11th century. Meanwhile, after the Uyghur khanate in Mongolia had been smashed by the Kirghiz, branches of the Uyghurs established themselves in the area around today's Turfan and Urumchi in 840. ...

(4) Karakoram Hwy from Gilgit (Pakistan) to Kashgar, one of 10 most spectacular drives in the world

http://abcnews.go.com/Travel/AroundTheWorld/story?id=7823442&page=1

10 Most Spectacular Drives in the World
Ten Awe-Inspiring Drives Worth Getting on a Plane for
By ESTHER YOUNG
June 15, 2009

Love the great outdoors? Want to see sights that will make you swoon? Or maybe you just really like being behind the wheel.ing towards cloud-swathed mountains.

Whatever your reason, here are ten of the world's most spectacular drives, so good they're worth getting on a plane to get to.

Karakoram Highway, China: Kashgar to the Kunjerab Pass

Nestled at the foot of the Himalayan Mountains, winding its way from desert landscapes to snow-capped peaks, the Karakoram Highway is an otherworldly ascent into a rugged paradise.

Not for the faint-hearted, the alpine highway reaches up to 15,000 feet above sea level. It starts in the Western province of Xinjiang, China, and ends in Islamabad, Pakistan.

Some of the show-stopping sights include Karakul Lake, a 12,000-foot-high lake at the foot of the Tian Shan mountain range, whose crystal clear waters perfectly reflect the alien purple, pinks, and whites of the never-ending peaks of Mt. Kongur. If the thin alpine air doesn't take your breath away, the sight of blue skies and clouds on both ends of the horizon will do the trick. ==

Safety in Kashgar - Karakoram Highway - Khunjerab Pass?

http://www.lonelyplanet.com/thorntree/thread.jspa?threadID=1381862

(5) Karakoram highway Pictures

http://karakoramhighway.blogspot.com/2005/11/china-kashgar.html

Tuesday, November 29, 2005
China Kashgar

We stayed 4 days in Kashgar, this place is an intense mix of chinese and Uygur culture. It is very intresting to see the vibrant Muslim centre within Chinese territory. Kashgar is a important hub on the Old Silk Road. It is the largest oasis city in Chinese Central Asia and 90 per cent of its population are Uygur. Kashgar Has a history of more than 2'000 years.

Even though the culture and old heritage is fading away very quickly or it is better to say that Kashgar is become more commercial. Chinese and Uygur does not mix too much, Chinese and Uygur dominant places and saperated in this city. we have been visiting both chinese and Uygur areas and enjoyed the food and historical places.

(6) Karakoram Highway on the Roof of the World - built by China, stunningly beautiful

http://www.chinaexpat.com/article/2008/06/17/kashgar/kashgar-taxkorgan-karakoram-highway.html

From Kashgar to Taxkorgan : The Karakoram Highway

Quite simply, one of the most stunning journeys you can undertake in China. Incorporating the highest freshwater lake in the world, some of it's most spectacular mountains, deep valleys, crashing gorges, deserts, roads swept into the abyss and wild camels - and that's just on day one.

The Karakoram Highway was built, mainly using Chinese labour, as a link into and with Pakistan, in China's farthest Western point. The ethnic tribes include Kazaks, Afghanis, Pakistanis, Uzbeks, Tadjiks, Kurds - this is Islamic Central Asia to the core.

KASHGAR

Known in Chinese as "Kashi" this ancient market town has an ambience and position unique anywhere in the world. Flying from Urumqi (two hours) - or even better, taking the train around the Western edge of the Taklimakan Desert (18 hours) will bring you to this historic city. It is an Oasis city, long strategically important as it controlled the old trading routes (and Silk Road) with access both into China and also west to Central Asia, India and Persia. Dating back over 4,000 years, Kashgar was probably originally settled by caucasians - with early manuscripts noting the residents had green eyes - which would link them to the modern day Romanian gypsies.

However, from the 7th century Kashgar has been largely (but not always) under Chinese control, although it's muslim roots run deep. More recently, it was run as a the 'capital' of the region of Kashgaria, under the warlord Yakub Beg from 1866 to 1877, who ruled most of Xinjiang at that time. Well, the Emperor was far away. However, China regained control in 1877, but one more uprising remained - with the "Great Game" between Britain and Russia - and control of passes and routes leading to India - ending up with Kashgar being declared the capital of an independent country "East Turkestan" in 1933 - which promptly lasted for two months, before China retook the city yet again. The claims to independence then are somewhat shaky at best.

As can be surmised, these are a proud people, with a long tradition of doing things their own way, promptly mucking them up, being taken over again, although stability has arrived with modern Chinese rule.

However, much still remains of "East Turkestan" if you know where to look. For example, both the British and the Russians recognized the country and opened Consulates. These are still standing today, and are now the rather grand Seman Hotel (Russia) and Chini Bagh Hotel (British) as both countries tried to impress with grandeur and pomp - with rooms available for around RMB500 upwards.

Seman Hotel : (0998) 255 2129

Chini Bagh Hotel : (0998) 282 5929

Otherwise, Kashgar is famous for it's Sunday market -the largest outdoor market in the world with some 100,000 people turning up. It's worth going for the faces - you're in Central Asia here, and the people have come across the ancient mountain paths from far off and neighbouring countries to arrive, and buy and sell. Afghanistan is only a stones throw away, as are Kazakstan, Krygystan, Uzbekistan nationals - nomads all and none have passports. The beauty - and difficulty - Kashgar has always had is it's mountain paths - there is just no way, apart from the main routes in and out - that the real wild mountain borders can be properly policed, and the Chinese don't even really try. So rub shoulders with Kazak herdsmen selling their fat tailed sheep, to Uzbeks and their fancy silver filigree worked daggers, to Afghanis and their apricots, Tibetans selling Yaks, and the occasional camel trader in tow. Throw in the legendary "dragon horses" and an entire array of Russian, Mongolian and Pakistani sweet meats and trinkets and ethnic clothing and you're in a bazaar, medieval style. Dragon Horses ?

Much of the worlds history was decided upon by these beasts, and you can purchase them here. Mongolia and China was serviced by the short, stocky Mongolian Horse for centuries, but with the rise of Arabic trade and weapons came a dangerous adversary. Armed warriors - on huge Arabic stallions, taller, faster, and stronger than the Mongolian horses, Persian and Indian armies routed the Chinese. Famed because "they sweated blood" the animals were known as "Dragon Horses" and possession of them by the Chinese court in the 1600's was a matter of life and death for the nation. The sweating blood legend is true - ticks embedded in the animals flesh would bite and open up tiny bloody wounds as the horse perspired. Eventually the Chinese were able to secure one hundred of the beasts, breed them and properly upgrade and equip their own armies. But for a while, the Dragon Horses had the locals in fear for their lives and on the run. You can still purchase the decendants of these animals in Kashgar, along with Donkeys, Goats....everything the modern herdsman can possibly need. Wandering through the market is a whole day experience, with the odd side venture to have some wonderful samosas, kebabs, and if you can find it - some of the excellent local wine. As for the kebabs - you want those made with the balls of buttock fat you see strung up in the local butchers - from the local Fat Tailed Sheep. Grazing high up in the mountain pastures during the summer, these rather skinny, yet hardy animals pack on fat reserves to last them through the lean winter months - with these deposits developing around the tail, yet dangling, somewhat obscenely, out of the wool like a two giant buttocks wobbling about. The melted fat from this - one cube between every two cubes of lamb meat - is quite simply delicious - and a staple diet - along with fresh baked unlevened breads for most of the people here, coupled with a salad.

Where to hang out ? There's really only one option - but a good one it is - Johns Café, sited opposite Kashgars only roundabout. It's right on the backpacking trail, so notes of where to go, gear to buy and places to see are all here. As for taxis - well you just hop on a donkey and trap and give the guy a few kwai. Kashgar is a fun stop off, and a great place to explore for a day or two, but from here, the fun really starts....

How to get on from Kashgar ? From Johns Café you can hire Landcruisers and driver for a few days. You need a decent, strong off road vehicle, not a normal sedan, it won't be able to cope with the roads. There are adverts and hopeful drivers always hanging around Johns so take your pick, negotiate and you're off. A budget of RMB500 a day should be enough, and count on a five-six day journey if you want to get to Taxkorgan and back to Kashgar with plenty of time to stop off en route.

Mount Muztagata

{photo} Desert flowers bloom after a rare storm in the Taklimakan Desert {end}

Out of Kashgar, you'll pass through irrigated fields, apricot orchards, and then out into the wilds again as you leave the oasis behind, and skirt the Western edge of the Taklimakan Desert and the foot of the Pamir Mountains. The Taklimakan is notorious in silk road legends - even the name in Kazak means "go in and you won't come out". You'll see the Pamir mountains ahead, and the desert to the east as you head south. You may even see 'whirling dervishes' - wind devils - blowing their way across like mini tornados. In places, the sands here sing - actually the tiny grains of sand rubbing together during certain winds - rather as you can make a glass 'sing' by running your finger over the lip - but in days of old, these were the voices of spirits, and entire caravanessi went missing as they panicked, got off the trail and got lost. Elsewhere in this desert are large iron deposits - affecting even the compass so you cannot navigate. And there are spirits. Years ago, camping out one night, I dreamt of a beautiful woman, who asked me to step outside of my tent and go with her. It was only when I was half way out of the tent - in the middle of the desert - that I trod on my fellow campers leg and woke both of us up. The thing is - that apparition has appeared to other people too - leading them, asleep, to their ultimate doom, away from the camp and into the depths of the Taklimakan, never to be seen again. It's real - I've 'dreamt' it - and how can other people experience the same dream ?

Back on the road, it crosses various melt water runways, many of them carved out over thousands of years, with the rocks and pebbles smoothed over and highly patterned as the annual melt waters have crashed over them and polished them into objects d'art. Hoopoes will fly, striking in their black and white banded wings, while darting from tree to tree, Indian Rollers, brilliant blue, await to snatch the odd grasshopper and even small snakes and lizards as they run about here. Vultures and eagles circle high above as you enter the land of the untamed, the snow leopard, wild camels, and wolves.

Climbing up into the mountain pass, you'll notice the constant erosion of the Pamirs - made from slate, they are unstable and entire sections just peel off and slide down, from high above, crashing into the Yarkant River - fed by glaciers, far below. Huge sections of the road here - and all the way to Taxkorgan - can and will be washed away. Be thankful you're not in their path when the mountains shed hundreds of tonnes of rock as if they were flakes of dry skin. Usually, a repair crew will have arrived, and a temporary diversion around the rubble will have been created - and this is why you need a decent off road vehicle with high clearance. Bumping and jolting over small boulders is not going to work in a Passat - although people try. Occasionally though, you'll just have to sit and wait - so be mindful to stock up the vehicle with essentials like toilet paper, food, and water, just in case a landslide keeps you delayed a few hours. Eventually, you'll reach Mount Muztagata, an impressive glacial peak at 7,546 metres. Confusingly similar in name to a similar mountain just across the border in Kyrgystan, it looks serenely down upon it's own alpine lake - from which fresh water pearls can be had from it's chilled depths.

At this level you are higher than Lhasa, and this is one of the highest fresh water lakes in the world. Often climbing parties, fully rigged up will descend, and with a welcome café for hot chocolates by the lakeside, and tell you stories of their conquest. Muztagata is a serious mountain, so do not attempt it without a team who know what they are doing. Camping overnight, you have options of renting some Yurts, the traditional nomadic circular, wooden framed tents, which can sleep up to six, or your own gear if you've brought it. Just off in the distance you'll see other yurts - nomadic Kazak families bringing their livestock down for grazing in fresh pastures.

With the finger of Afghanistan's frontier just to the West, even the Taklimakan starts to possess the mountains - sand dunes blown all the way up mountains at 5-6,000 metres, looking like dirty snow until you realise how far this desert can penetrate. Massive dunes, resting hundreds of feet deep lie in the creases and folds of the mountains rocksides.

You'll pass through small hamlets, further down in the valleys, surviving from melt water streams and rivers that wend their way across the fertile valley floors, fed by water and nourished by the very essence of the mountains themselves, idyllic rustic communities growing almonds, apricots, hazelnuts and berries. Further on, you'll eventually arrive, caught between two huge mountain ranges, in the Taxkorgan Valley, and the border of China with Pakistan. There is a gigantic ruined fortress here, dating way back, where Marco Polo stayed, as did the characters from the Chinese classic "Journey to the West". It must have been a sight to behold in it's heyday - caravanessi parked all the way outside its masive buttresses, with wooden shops, barbers, brothels, traders, bars and restaurants all carrying on their bawdy business inside the massive walls.

Up on top of the fort you can see all the way down the Taxkorgan valley, where Black Winged Stilts, Avocets, and storks all come to breed amongst the marshes, grasslands, and pastures, interlaced with riverlets of fresh mountain water streaming down from both sides of the valley. It's a great place to unwind and do a bit of trekking, and a few sparse but clean hotels and restaurants are dotted around the one street village.

If you want, when the border crossing closes in the evening, you can dane around the barrier and pretend you are half in CHina and half in Pakistan. Not al is not quite what it seems. Although this is China customs, and that empty road along that fertile valley looks inviting, in reality the Taxkorgan valley beyond this point is a 120 mile long militarized zone - Pakistani customs are a long way to go yet - and you need permits to get there. But for now, you've reached the far West corner of China - and it is stunningly beautiful.

(7) The road between China and Pakistan, by Alice Albinia (Financial Times)

http://www.ft.com/cms/s/2/76d57272-6764-11de-925f-00144feabdc0.html

The road between China and Pakistan

By Alice Albinia

Published: July 4 2009 00:40 | Last updated: July 4 2009 00:40

{photo} Apricots drying in baskets in Hunza {end}

In the customs hall at Tashkurgan, the last town on the road from China's Xinjiang province into Pakistan, I felt a by-now familiar sense of trepidation.

Over the past six years I have travelled through Pakistan at least eight times – from the fertile valleys and snowy peaks of the north, to the deserts and shrines of the south – crossing in and out of neighbouring Afghanistan, India and China. I have friends from Karachi to Kalam, a salwar kameez (traditional dress) for every occasion, and an array of choice Urdu swear words. There are parts of the country I know better than the land I grew up in.

And yet standing on the outside, looking in, I feel afraid. And if the thought of travelling to Pakistan affects me like this, it is understandable why the number of foreign visitors has halved since 2007. The World Economic Forum's Travel & Tourism Competitiveness Report 2009 placed Pakistan in the top 25 per cent of global destinations for its World Heritage sites, which range from the mangroves in the Delta, to the 5,000-year-old cities of Mohenjo-daro and Harappa. Yet it was also named the nation worst affected by terrorism.

Despite the jihadis who dominate the airwaves, however, Pakistan has a proud tradition of hospitality to outsiders. It is prudent to show some reserve in dress and behaviour, especially for lone women. But this restriction of personal freedom is amply compensated. Pakistan is a land of breathtaking beauty, rich in the interleaved histories of cosmopolitan cultures. And for the nervous traveller who fears becoming part of an international news item, nowhere is better than Hunza, Pakistan's northernmost valley on the border with China.

Outside the Chinese customs office, I get chatting to my Pakistani Jeep driver and soon he is boasting about the improvements being made to the road that links China to Pakistan, the Karakoram Highway.

This road traces an epic route from the Muslim city of Kashgar in north-western China, through a tangle of mountains, and down into the plains of the Punjab. Work on the highway began in 1966 but it took intrepid Chinese engineers more than a decade to blast their way through the mountain rock, open up the Khunjerab Pass, and pour Tarmac on to goat paths. Locals like to repeat the macabre fact that almost one worker died for every kilometre of road constructed. Most of them were from Pakistan.

A truck tries to get past a rockslide on the Karakoram HighwayNothing proclaims the difference between Pakistan and China better than the condition of the road on either side of the border. In China, the Karakoram Highway is wide and the traffic moves fast. The moment it crosses into Pakistan, at the peak of the Khunjerab Pass, it becomes an assault course of potholes. As our Jeep rattled down the hillside, I pointed this out to the driver. But he shook his head and said: "Wait and see. The Chinese have begun widening the highway."

When it first opened, the Karakoram Highway became the conduit of international trade, tourism (and the Pakistan Army). Dervla Murphy, the Irish travel writer, visited in the 1970s just as the project was nearing completion. She wrote: "What with Chinese-built motorways ... and opium-hunting hippies, the stage really is set for the degeneration and despoliation of this whole region."

Thirty years on, the hippies have been frightened away but the Chinese are back, and this time their agenda is even more ambitious. The government wants to link its expanding manufacturing base in Xinjiang with its mining interests in Africa, via the port it has built in Pakistan at Gwadar. The northernmost part of the highway that joins these dots is to be widened and improved, turning a thin ribbon of Tarmac through the mountains into a fast and efficient superhighway.

We arrived at Sost, the Pakistani border town, in the afternoon. From here to Gilgit, the Karakoram Highway passes through a green oasis: a river valley terraced with fields and lined by apricot groves. The road clings to the river, into which glaciers – walls of rugged ice, dazzling in the sunlight – pour their meltwater. This is Hunza, one of the most idyllic places in the country, inhabited by Ismailis who follow a more lenient form of Islam than many of their compatriots.

I travelled south through Hunza on a local minibus. As the vehicle zigzagged down the hillside, stopping to pick up giggling children and ladies regal in embroidered caps, the air was noisy with banter and gossip. When men and women meet in Hunza, they kiss each other's fingers. Greeting each other across a crowded bus, they blow air kisses. Compared to the segregated worlds in which men and women live in other parts of Pakistan, the intimacy is astounding.

Today Hunza is a byword for tranquillity yet not so long ago, it, too, had a reputation for lawlessness and banditry. In the late 19th century, rumours were spread of a slave-dealing people who plundered other countries' caravans, practised weird magic and terrorised their innocent neighbours. An army was sent north to subdue the "robber valley".

A century later, after the highway brought in tourists with cameras, Hunza's reputation metamorphosed again: this time the inhabitants were famed for their longevity. A western woman wrote a book about their mountain diet of apricots and yoghurt. Pictures were published of sprightly Hunza males who looked 45 yet claimed to be 120.

If the age span of Hunza's people boggled belief, this was nothing compared to the valley's vertiginous history. Large parts of the Karakoram Highway overlapped with stretches of the Silk Route, and down by the river, people found boulders carved with some of the earliest artwork in south Asia. The discovery of the petroglyphs of the Karakoram Highway proved that, from prehistoric times, innumerable warriors, monks and merchants traversed this remote region. In Hunza, the carvings are concentrated at a place known as Sacred Rocks, right on the edge of the current road. If the Karakoram Highway first brought attention to this site, locals now fear that the ongoing expansion may damage or eliminate it entirely. Further south at Chilas, the rock-art is under threat from a different type of progress: a hydro-electric dam commissioned by the Pakistani government will submerge almost all the carvings beneath the waters of the reservoir.

As the bus stopped beside a spring, and the passengers got down to fill their bottles with water, the old man sitting beside me said: "When I was young, it took three days to get from here to Gilgit. Now it takes three hours. My grandchildren say the widened road will bring money and progress. But there are villagers who are losing their fields and orchards. Everything is changing so fast before my eyes."

Alice Albinia's book, ‘Empires of the Indus: The Story of a River', has won a Somerset Maugham Award and been shortlisted for the Dolman Travel Prize. It is now out in paperback (John Murray)

How to get around

The mountainous overland border between China and Pakistan opens every year on May 1 and closes on October 31, when snows render it impassable. There is a new, seasonal bus service running from Kashgar in China to Gilgit in Pakistan. Tickets can be bought from the international bus station north of Kashgar, just over the Tuman River.

The journey from Kashgar to the Chinese border takes eight hours. The timing means that passengers are forced to spend the night in Tashkurgan, a place of decidedly mixed attractions. Border control and passport checks, which can be rigorous and must be met with patience, take place the following morning.

Over the border in Pakistan, the beautiful Hunza valley has many facilities for tourists. There is a fort with a 700-year history, and juniper-smoke- inhaling shamans. At present, there is an apparently happy balance between tourism, local development and environmental practice. But all this may change as the Karakoram Highway is widened.

Gilgit, where the buses from Kashgar end up, makes an excellent base for hiking trips along the valley, journeys east into Baltistan (in the shadow of K2), or west towards Chitral. Gilgit is also prone to occasional Sunni-Shia violence, which explains in part the heavy army presence.

Bus rides from here to Rawalpindi (the town adjoining Islamabad, the capital) take up to 18 hours. The UK Foreign Office is currently advising against travel south of Gilgit on the Karakoram Highway.

Instead, there is a 55-minute flight from Gilgit to Islamabad. The aircraft follows the Indus River south, swooping low across the craggy hills where shepherds stroll with their flocks, rifles slung nonchalantly over their shoulders.

Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2009

(8) A Visit to Kashgar's "Old City"

http://www.farwestchina.com/2009/02/visit-to-kashgars-old-city.html

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 25, 2009

There's a good reason why everybody tells you to visit the old portions of a Chinese town. You know, the Beijing hutongs, Pingyao's walled city, or the ruins located near most any north western Chinese city. Besides the fact that the modern parts of town can be repetitive and boring, the old sections are just so darn cool! So when I found out during the planning phases of our trip to Kashgar that we'd be able to walk around an old city in the middle of town that is virtually untouched by modern society, I was more than a little intrigued.

There actually seem to be a couple of "Old Towns" within the northern part of Kashgar, some hidden behind large buildings, others jutting out in a proud show of defiance against the encroaching modern society. You won't find any Chinese influence in the architecture and the only occupants within the walls are of Uyghur descent. They've been here for over 2000 years and I doubt they plan on moving any time soon. In my search for a good souvenir to take back from Kashgar I found no better place to buy handmade crafts than with the locals who reside along the Old City roads.

That is, if you want to call them "roads". Plenty of motorcycles, bicycles and wagons slowly meandered along the paths as we walked, but noticeably absent was the sound of many cars and car horns. Most of the time we were walking on dirt but occasionally the more heavily used areas were laid with bricks, stone or tiles. Any time we went inside someone's house we had to take our shoes off, and it's no wonder since any rain, scare though it is, would make for quite the muddy shoe.

I looked closely at the walls and can't believe they they've stood for so long. It seems like a combination of hay, mud, clay and maybe some spit thrown in for good measure. From the looks of it I could run straight through these walls leaving a cartoon-esque imprint of myself, but a solid hit with the fist told me I'd probably just end up with a broken nose if I tried. The doors to these homes are absolutely beautiful, though - usually two hinged doors crafted out of wood with intricate designs and decorated with brass knobs or handles (see picture below). According to someone we talked with in the city, a locked door means nobody is home or a woman is home alone, one open door signifies family is present and two open doors tells the world you have guests.

The travel books we read told us to enter by certain gates, gates which are guarded by people with fancy looking booths, maps, and cash registers. The truth is that you can just walk around the corner and enter wherever you want. Sure you won't have a personal guide or a map but sometimes you don't need those things in order to enjoy the beauty of an aged city. One of my favorite memories of Kashgar was walking down those narrow roads, watching the children play and pretending that I was actually experiencing Kashgar life centuries earlier.

It's an often used cliche, but it still applies: Like a fine wine, these old cities just seem to get better as the decades and centuries go by.

(9) Kashgar, an oasis city on the Silk Road, is being razed by the Chinese government

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kashgar

Kashgar[2] is an oasis city with approximately 350,000 residents in the western part of the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region of the People's Republic of China. Kashgar is the administrative centre of Kashgar Prefecture which has an area of 162,000 km? and a population of approximately 3.5 million [3].

The city covers an area of 15 km?. The altitude averages 1,289.5 m/4,282 ft. above sea level. The annual mean temperature is 11.7°C, with a low of -24.4° in January and up to 40.1° in July. The frost-free period averages 215 days. ...

Situated at the junction of routes from the valley of the Oxus, from Khokand and Samarkand, Almati, Aksu, and Khotan, the last two leading from China and Pakistan, Kashgar has been noted from ancient times as a political and commercial centre.

The Kashgar oasis is where both the northern and southern routes from China around the Taklamakan Desert converge. It is also almost directly north of Tashkurgan through which traffic passed from the ancient Buddhist kingdom of Gandhara, in what is now Pakistan, and Jalalabad in eastern Afghanistan. ...

The opening of the Tang Dynasty, in 618, saw the beginning of a prolonged struggle between China and the Western Turks for control of the Tarim Basin. ...

Modern Uyghurs are the descendants of ancient Turkic tribes including Uyghurs and ancient Caucasian inhabitants of Tarim basin. ...

Kashgar’s Old City has been called "the best-preserved example of a traditional Islamic city to be found anywhere in Central Asia, but it is now being razed by the Chinese government which plans to replace the old buildings with new."[16] "The demolition of swaths of the Old Town of Kashgar is being carried out in the name of modernisation and safety. The famed trading hub on the Silk Road, on which caravans carrying silk and jade from China crossed with merchants from Central Asia bringing furs and spices, will effectively disappear. ...A small area visited by tourists seeking a flavour of Kashgar’s rich history will be preserved."[17] At present, it is estimated to attract more than one million tourist visitors annually.[18] ...

The huge Id Kah Mosque, the largest mosque in China, is located in the heart of the city.

An 18-m (59 ft) high statue of former Chinese leader Mao Zedong in Kashgar is one of the few large-scale statues of Mao remaining in China. ...

The city has a very important Sunday market. Thousands of farmers from the surrounding fertile lands come into the city to sell a wide variety of fruit and vegetables. Kashgar’s livestock market is also very lively. Silk and carpets made in Hotan are sold at bazaars, as well as local crafts, such as copper teapots and wooden jewellery boxes.

As of 2009, an effort was under way to demolish the majority of the Old City and construct new buildings in its place. Most of the Old City’s 13,000 resident families were to be relocated. The purpose of redevelopment is earthquake safety; the city’s older buildings, many of which are built from mud and straw, are considered to be vulnerable to collapse in a seismic event. The plans were criticized for destroying cultural history and eliminating Kashgar’s main tourist attraction. [18]

(10) Bulldozers reducing Kashgar Old City to rubble

http://www.uhrp.org/articles/2316/1/Bulldozers-reducing-Kashgar-Old-City-to-rubble-/index.html

Bulldozers reducing Kashgar Old City to rubble

Published 06/22/2009 | Press Releases

For immediate release
June 22, 2009, 5:10 pm EST
Contact: Uyghur American Association +1 (202) 349 1496

The Uyghur American Association (UAA) is extremely disturbed about the demolition of Kashgar's Old City, the home of more than 200,000 Uyghurs and an ancient cradle of traditional Uyghur culture, which appears to be reaching a critical and irreversible stage. Kashgar, an oasis on the Silk Road that served as a center of vibrant trade and cultural exchange for hundreds of years, lies in the southwestern part of East Turkestan (also known as Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region in the People's Republic of China) and has a total population of around 400,000 people. According to a June 18 report, a medieval Islamic college in the Old City that was listed as an Autonomous Region-level protected cultural site was recently demolished. Another article reported that June 18 was the last day that residents of the Old City could agree to move out voluntarily.

Government authorities began carrying out the destruction of Kasghar's Old City in February 2009, as part of a "residents resettlement project" aimed at moving the 65,000 Uyghur households in the Old City. In 2008, the State Council of the National People's Congress designated nearly three billion yuan to the project. While the official Chinese media has said the project is being driven by official concerns over earthquake safety, poor drainage, and other public safety issues, UAA remains concerned that it is being motivated by a long-standing campaign to eradicate Uyghur culture and identity.

"Chinese authorities are no longer content to eradicate our language from schools and our religion from mosques," said Uyghur democracy leader Rebiya Kadeer. "Now they are physically tearing down our homes, our businesses and our places of worship. What will happen to people who refuse to move out of their homes in the Old City? What happens when the government destroys cultural sites that it has itself deemed worthy of protection? The international community must call upon China to prevent the further destruction of the Old City, for the sake of Uyghur cultural identity and to prevent the loss to the world of an irreplaceable center of architecture and heritage."

It is not clear at present how much of the more than eight square kilometers of the Old City is left, but reports from the media and concerned groups have documented the destruction of parts of the city and the corresponding resettlement of residents to apartment blocks in an area about eight or nine kilometers outside of Kashgar, not far from the airport. In addition to being uprooted from their jobs, communities and centers of worship, residents have also reported that they have received inadequate compensation for their Old City homes. Online forums in the Uyghur language have reported that Old City residents were given no opportunity to voice their opinion about the demolition project or their resettlement.

According to one report, the Islamic college demolished in recent days, known as the Xanliq Madrasa, may have been torn down to make room for an athletic field. One of the school's most famous students is said to have been Mahmud Kashgari, an 11th-century Uyghur scholar and writer who occupies a central place in both Uyghur and Turkish history. His seminal work, Turkiy Tillar Divani (Compendium of the Language of the Turks), was the first comprehensive dictionary of Turkic languages. The 1,000th anniversary of his birth was nationally celebrated in 2008 in Turkey. The Xanliq Madrasa itself was the first in East Turkestan to combine Islamic and "scientific" curricula, introducing a trend of similar schools with modern teaching methods in the region and, later, reformist social and political movements.

The Times newspaper reported that June 18 was the last day for residents of the Old City to claim a bonus for agreeing to move out before their houses are destroyed. The Times reported a palpable fear in the air among the remaining Old City residents, who indicated a heavy police presence and were reluctant to talk. One resident displayed a lack of confidence in government assertions that newly-built apartment blocks would be safer in an earthquake than the Old City buildings that had withstood centuries and sheltered generations.

Chinese organizations and scholars are among those observers who have raised concerns over the destruction of the Old City, including concerns over the loss of cultural heritage. The chairman of an NGO in Beijing devoted to historic preservation said large-scale demolition was unnecessary, and said rebuilding must use original materials and techniques. "The local Uighurs are the spirit of the Old City," he said. "If people move out, the city would lose its soul." A Beijing professor suggested that houses in the Old City could be reinforced and repaired instead of completely demolished, as the Old City contains "the typical Uighur way of life, production and culture."

The wishes of Old City residents, whether they are to live in modern apartment blocks or remain in their Old City homes, should be respected. However, it is clear that Uyghurs' voices were not included in the decision-making process surrounding the "resettlement project", and that no participatory process existed for Old City residents. Instead, they were faced with propaganda and intimidation, including television programs and signs throughout the Old City exhorting them to leave. Those who wish to stay face a lack of any institutional mechanism with which to express their grievances, and fear that if they voice any complaints, they may be subject to severe punishment from authorities.

Chinese official Wang Zhengrong stated that not all of the Old City is earmarked for demolition and that sections will be "protected, managed, and developed" with the aim of "creating international heritage scenery", which will increase income from tourism. Wang added that under the plans, tourists would still be able to view "minority lifestyle and architectural characteristics." UAA is concerned that the remaining sections of the Old City will take on the characteristics of an open-air museum of Uyghur culture, where once a vibrant community lived. The value of tourism to the Kashgar economy is approximately 620 million yuan. So far, no indication has been given as to who will be the beneficiaries of a Chinese-managed Kashgar Old City.

While the Chinese government has proposed that China's Silk Road locations be included in a UNESCO World Heritage List, Kashgar was glaringly omitted from China's application (with the exception of the tomb of Mahmud Kashgari), though Kashgar was arguably the most important Silk Road crossroads within the territory of present-day China. According to a report from the Congressional-Executive Committee on China (CECC), the Chinese government also exploited ambiguities in the framework for heritage protection to bypass formal protections in its Historic Cities Regulation that could have protected buildings in the Old City. CECC also noted that "the Chinese government has formally committed itself to preserve its cultural heritage not only through its domestic legislation but also through its ratification of the UNESCO World Heritage Convention."

UAA calls on the international community, in particular UNESCO, to ask the Chinese government to halt the demolition of Kashgar Old City, in keeping with domestic laws guaranteeing the protection of historic sites and cultural heritage and the UNESCO World Heritage Convention. UAA also urges authorities in Kashgar to ensure adequate protection of property rights and compensation for the homes of Kashgar residents.


(11) The heart of Kashgar is being destroyed, its Uighurs displaced (by Han migrants)

Kashgar's Old City: Politics of Demolition

6 Apr 2009

http://www.isn.ethz.ch/isn/Current-Affairs/Security-Watch/Detail/?lng=en&id=98600

The heart of Kashgar - a place where Uighur people have lived and worked for centuries - is being destroyed or transformed into a tourist theme-park, and its people resettled. In a pattern familiar in modern China no one has asked the Uighurs themselves, says Henryk Szadziewski for openDemocracy.

By Henryk Szadziewski for openDemocracy.net

In the heart of Kashgar's old city, the bustle of central Asian life has not changed in centuries. In bright sunlight, the mud-brick buildings seemingly blend in with labyrinth-like streets powdered by the sands of the Taklamakan desert. Coppersmiths hammer away making shapely bowls, pans and jugs, which will sit on the shelves of cool courtyard-fronted homes. A seller of shirniliq meghiz (hand-made Uighur candy) pushes his cart in the heat of the day, stops, and wipes the sweat from his brow.

Women, their heads covered with brown-colored gauzed blankets, move from market-stall to market-stall discussing the cost of spices (sold in huge sacks) and cuts of mutton (hanging on shaded meat-hooks). Vendors selling hand-sewn doppas (Uighur skull-caps) and brightly decorated knives from Yengisar, (the best in the region) watch donkey-cart drivers shouting the warning posh! posh! as they navigate the streets and the people. Minarets subtly overlook over the scene, reminding Kashgaris that in addition to trade, Islam is also an influence on their daily routines. Then, a muezzin's call breaks the activity and stirs the pious to hurry along the narrow streets to attend prayers.

Such a portrait of timeless Uighur traditions and livelihoods - so familiar from the work of travel-writers and journalists - is compelling. But there is another Kashgar, one firmly rooted in the 21st century. This Kashgar contains high-rise apartment blocks, cellphones, cars, western fashions, Dove chocolate bars and mass-produced consumer goods. Kashgaris are not only coppersmiths and traders; the Uighur men and women of this city are also bank-tellers, university professors and auto-mechanics.

Kashgar has a long and layered past. It is a city with a history stretching over 2,000 years. Its location - in a fertile oasis to the north of the Pamir mountains and on the western edge of the Taklamakan desert - has put it at the center of traffic heading west to central Asia and eventually to Europe, east to China and south to the sub-continent. As a crossroads between civilisations (sometimes the travel-writers' clichés are true), Kashgar was one of the major trading centres of the Silk Road; in his Travels, Marco Polo recorded a visit here in the 1270s.

Throughout its history, Kashgar has hosted a mix of peoples, religions and languages, among which the Uighurs have been for centuries at the center, giving this city its character and flavor. The Uighurs are a Turkic Muslim people, who consider Kashgar's old city as one of the cradles of their culture and the physical embodiment of an illustrious history. Today, however, in a story that has largely fallen under the radar of the international media, the old city is being demolished by the ruling Chinese government. This demolition brings with it some fundamental, opposed ideas that relate directly and personally to the many people affected: tradition vs modernity, conservation vs construction, assimilation vs resistance.

The lure of the modern

The reports in official Chinese media indicate that the demolition of Kashgar's old city is well underway. The reports paint a benevolent picture of what is being called a "residents' resettlement project". A number of articles published in February 2009 outlined the specifics of the project. The Chinese authorities considered that the 65,000 houses in Kashgar's old city were suffering from poor drainage and were vulnerable to collapse from earthquakes. For their safety, the residents of the old city would therefore be moved to newly constructed buildings away from the area.

Among 1.5 million foreign and domestic tourists visit Kashgar annually, generating approximately 620 million yuan in revenue; it adds that Kashgar's old city is a must-see tourist attraction. There would seem to be little economic incentive or logic, therefore, in demolishing the old city.

But the plans anticipate a switch of focus: a state official, Wang Zhengrong, explains that part of the old city will be "protected, managed, and developed" with the aim of "creating international heritage scenery." This will increase income from tourism, says Wang, who adds that under the plans tourists will still be able to view "minority lifestyle and architectural characteristics." It is unclear what will be built in the demolished areas of the old city, but Wang Zhengrong's comments suggest that the remainder will operate as an open-air museum of Uighur culture sanitised for tourist consumption.

In addition, the changes appear to involve new management of the old city. There have been rumors circulating online that the local government in Kashgar has offered a group of Han Chinese from Wenzhou the right to administer the area around the heart of the old city, the ancient Id-Kah mosque. In addition, oversight of the Appaq Khoja Mazar - a place of religious significance to Uighurs, though outside the old city itself - has it is said been offered to a Han Chinese company called Jinkun. Whether these rumors are true, there is a genuine concern as to who the real beneficiaries are from the "residents' resettlement project."

The control project

The official Chinese media proclaims the modernity of the new living arrangements for resettled Uighurs, but at the same time neglects to pay much attention to the fact that former old-city residents have been relocated to an area approximately "eight to nine kilometers outside of the city" (according to a correspondent). It is difficult to avoid concluding that the resettlement of Uighurs is part of a policy by the Chinese authorities to dilute Uighur culture by taking control of how Uighur communities are arranged. This control permits closer management of Uighur activity in new regimented living arrangements, and forces on resettled Uyghurs a form of indebtedness where none existed before.

What is left of Uighur identity in the parts of Kashgar's' old city saved from the "residents resettlement project" is also subject to management by Chinese authorities. This management of ethnic identity by the Chinese Communist Party is a common phenomenon in the modern-day People's Republic of China. It has occurred too in places such as Jinghong in the Xishuangbanna region of Yunnan province, where during the 1990s - in a process lasting eight years - the town was transformed from a stronghold of Dai culture to an ethnic theme-park for predominately Han Chinese tourists. In the past, Dai water-festivals were reserved for particular times related to traditional beliefs; now, they have become daily events so that tourists can be sure to not miss out on the fun.

But the situation in Kashgar is for China's leaders a far more grave matter than the one in Jinghong. In the eyes of the Chinese Communist Party, the Uighurs are perceived as far more of a threat to its control and to the territorial integrity of the People's Republic of China than are the Dai. Uighurs, after all, share many cultural features with their Turkic cousins in the independent states of central Asia. Thus the assimilation of Uighurs into China is seen as a policy priority, leading to greater control of Uighur-related issues. This larger purpose is also behind its other elements: a reduction in the status of the Uyghur language, mass Han Chinese in-migration to Uighur areas, and the transfer of Uighur women to eastern China.

What is clear from the "residents' resettlement project" is that the Uighur voice in decision-making was not heard. In the plans to relocate Uighurs living in Kashgar's old city, transparent and meaningful participatory processes for Uighurs were absent. There is no doubt that Uighurs want better living conditions; but perhaps they would prefer this to happen in the context of using a sum equivalent to the project's 3 billion yuan to modernise their current old-city housing, while maintaining one of the few remaining centres of Uighur culture. No one has asked them, and such an option appears nowhere in the official media.

If Uighur participation in the "project" is absent, there is also no way for Uighurs to address grievances stemming from the resettlement (such as unfair compensation) without fear of punishment. This too seems of little concern to Chinese authorities. They too will pay a price, however: for the result of the "residents' resettlement project" will be that tourists from developed nations will stay away from the old-city theme-park. Much more important, Uighurs will be further marginalised and the prospect of a solution to their grievances will be even more distant.

Henryk Szadziewski is the manager of the Uyghur Human Rights Project (www.uhrp.org). He lived in the People's Republic of China for five years, including a three-year period in Uighur-populated regions. Henryk Szadziewski studied modern Chinese and Mongolian at the University of Leeds, and completed a master's degree at the University of Wales, where he specialised in Uighur economic, social and cultural rights.

(12) To Protect an Ancient City, China Moves to Raze It

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/28/world/asia/28kashgar.html?_r=2&scp=7&sq=kashgar&st=cse

Preservationists say the demolition of the Old City section of Kashgar, top, is a blow to China's Islamic and Uighur culture. But work has already begun, center, to raze about 85 percent of the area.

By MICHAEL WINES

Published: May 27, 2009

KASHGAR, China — A thousand years ago, the northern and southern branches of the Silk Road converged at this oasis town near the western edge of the Taklamakan Desert <http://www.silkroadproject.org/tabid/177/default.aspx>.

Traders from Delhi and Samarkand, wearied by frigid treks through the world's most daunting mountain ranges, unloaded their pack horses here and sold saffron and lutes along the city's cramped streets. Chinese traders, their camels laden with silk and porcelain, did the same.

Preservationists say the demolition of the Old City section of Kashgar is a blow to China's Islamic and Uighur culture.

The traders are now joined by tourists exploring the donkey-cart alleys and mud-and-straw buildings once window-shopped, then sacked, by Tamerlane and Genghis Khan.

Now, Kashgar is about to be sacked again.

Nine hundred families already have been moved from Kashgar's Old City, "the best-preserved example of a traditional Islamic city to be found anywhere in central Asia," as the architect and historian George Michell wrote in the 2008 book "Kashgar: Oasis City on China's Old Silk Road."

Over the next few years, city officials say, they will demolish at least 85 percent of this warren of picturesque, if run-down homes and shops. Many of its 13,000 families, Muslims from a Turkic ethnic group called the Uighurs (pronounced WEE-gurs), will be moved.

In its place will rise a new Old City, a mix of midrise apartments, plazas, alleys widened into avenues and reproductions of ancient Islamic architecture "to preserve the Uighur culture," Kashgar's vice mayor, Xu Jianrong, said in a phone interview.

Demolition is deemed an urgent necessity because an earthquake could strike at any time, collapsing centuries-old buildings and killing thousands. "The entire Kashgar area is in a special area in danger of earthquakes," Mr. Xu said. "I ask you: What country's government would not protect its citizens from the dangers of natural disaster?"

Critics fret about a different disaster.

"From a cultural and historical perspective, this plan of theirs is stupid," said Wu Lili, the managing director of the Beijing Cultural Protection Center, a nongovernmental group devoted to historic preservation. "From the perspective of the locals, it's cruel."

Urban reconstruction during China's long boom has razed many old city centers, including most of the ancient alleyways and courtyard homes of the capital, Beijing.

Kashgar, though, is not a typical Chinese city. Chinese security officials consider it a breeding ground for a small but resilient movement of Uighur separatists who Beijing claims have ties to international jihadis. So redevelopment of this ancient center of Islamic culture comes with a tinge of forced conformity.

Chinese officials have offered somewhat befuddling explanations for their plans. Mr. Xu calls Kashgar "a prime example of rich cultural history and at the same time a major tourism city in China." Yet the demolition plan would reduce to rubble Kashgar's principal tourist attraction, a magnet for many of the million-plus people who visit each year.

China supports an international plan to designate major Silk Road landmarks as United Nations World Heritage sites — a powerful draw for tourists, and a powerful incentive for governments to preserve historical areas.

But Kashgar is missing from China's list of proposed sites. One foreign official who refused to be identified for fear of damaging relations with Beijing said the Old City project had unusually strong backing high in the government.

The project, said to cost $440 million, began abruptly this year, soon after China's central government said it would spend $584 billion on public works to combat the global financial crisis.

It would complete a piecemeal dismantling of old Kashgar that began decades ago. The city wall, a 25-foot-thick earthen berm nearly 35 feet high, has largely been torn down. In the 1980s, the city paved the surrounding moat to create a ring highway. Then it opened a main street through the old town center.

Still, much of the Old City remains as it was and has always been. From atop 40 vest-pocket mosques, muezzins still cast calls to prayer down the narrow lanes: no loudspeakers here. Hundreds of artisans still hammer copper pots, carve wood, hone scimitars and hawk everything from fresh-baked flatbread to dried toads to Islamic prayer hats.

And tens of thousands of Uighurs still live here behind hand-carved poplar doors, many in tumbledown rentals, others in two-story homes that vault over the alleys and open on courtyards filled with roses and cloth banners.

The city says the Uighur residents have been consulted at every step of planning. Residents mostly say they are summoned to meetings at which eviction timetables and compensation sums are announced.

Although the city offers the displaced residents the opportunity to build new homes on the sites of their old ones, some also complain that the proposed compensation does not pay for the cost of rebuilding.

"My family built this house 500 years ago," said a beefy 56-year-old man with a white crew cut, who called himself Hajji, as his wife served tea inside their two-story Old City house. "It was made of mud. It's been improved over the years, but there has been no change to the rooms."

In Uighur style, the home has few furnishings. Tapestries hang from the walls, and carpets cover the floors and raised areas used for sleeping and entertaining. The winter room has a pot-bellied coal stove; the garage has been converted into a shop from which the family sells sweets and trinkets. Nine rooms downstairs, and seven up, the home has sprawled over the centuries into a mansion by Kashgar standards.

(13) Foreign reporters ordered out of China's Kashgar

http://news.asiaone.com/News/Latest%2BNews/Asia/Story/A1Story20090710-154043.html

Fri, Jul 10, 2009

AFP

KASHGAR, China (AFP) - Chinese officials Friday ordered foreign media to leave the ancient Silk Road city of Kashgar, citing safety concerns, after deadly unrest in other parts of China's remote northwest.

"All foreign journalists should leave for their own safety," Chen Li, a press official with the Kashgar government, told AFP.

An AFP reporter and photographer were among the small foreign media contingent who travelled to Kashgar following ethnic unrest about 1,000 kilometres (600 miles) away in Xinjiang region's capital, Urumqi.

Chinese authorities say 156 people were killed and more than 1,000 others injured on Sunday after Uighurs took to the street in protest.

(14) Kashgar was magical … what was left. A Traveller's Letter from Kashgar

http://www.thenewdominion.net/1007/a-letter-from-kashgar/

The New Dominion

Your source for all things Xinjiang

A Letter from Kashgar

The following is a letter from an anonymous foreign traveler currently in Kashgar, Xinjiang. The New Dominion presents this letter for the consideration and edification of its readers. There has been little news out of Kashgar since Sunday, and this may shed some light on Monday's demonstrations and the events that followed.

Two days before rioting broke out over Xinjiang, I hopped a plane bound for Kashgar. I got stuck a little in Urumqi, but made it to Kashgar eventually. The events below record my adventure as you can call it, being stuck in the middle of the chaos in what basically became a police state for three days (and remains so today).

When I arrived in Kashgar, it was "business as usual": Uyghurs being Uyghurs, i.e. speaking their Turkic language, praying five times a day, and living in and around the Old City. Of course, I was disappointed by the Chinese-built shopping malls, massive highways, and blatant destruction of Uyghur cultural sites (including tombs) and discrimination against the Uyghurs. There are signs everywhere in Chinese reading: "Follow the Communist Party for 10000 years." "Give up superstition, embrace science, embrace modernity." "The many peoples of China are one: Hate Separatism from the Motherland." It's not a good feeling entering the city.

But a cab drive away (one cab drive too long) and I was basically back in the Middle East. It felt like home. Kebabs everywhere. Hummus, tabouli, green tea with mint. The Old City was "heartening" if tragic… bulldozers, bulldozers, bulldozers. I saw a few mosques come down, probably a few hundred years old each.

Kashgar of course was magical… what was left. I went to centuries-old mosques with sublime Central Asian architecture. I went to "state approved official" tombs and got an "official" tour of the "official Old City." (This is the 15% of the Old City that the government has decided not to destroy. What's the catch: No one lives there. They hire actors to dress up as "traditional" Uyghurs for six hours a day.) They smile and proudly display pictures of the Chinese flag. This is the only part of the Old City that Western journalists are allowed to photograph. I got some pictures of the "unofficial" Old City, which was absolutely marvelous. I also went to the Sunday Market and the Livestock Market. I was offered a few camels for a good price, but very sadly I was unable to accept.

I met some reporters in the Old City from the West, but most of them were being followed and having their cameras taken away from them. What I saw was a Uyghur population in Kashgar feeling that they faced the immediate destruction of their cultural and historical heritage. Families were being evacuated from their homes. I honestly have no idea why they would even let Westerners in the city to see this. I still have no idea why they didn't make me leave.

Waking up the second morning, I heard on the Chinese news that "terrorists" had struck the capital in Urumqi and that their goal was to divide the Motherland. I thought nothing of it honestly, until I went outside. Within about two hours, the city of Kashgar was filled with soldiers and riot police pouring into the "Uyghur" part of town. The internet had been completely cut, along with my phone. I was unable to have any contact with the outside world. But it seemed OK. I again just thought it was policy. When I went out for dinner that night, I saw the authorities arresting people, including old men.

The next day martial law came. The Uyghurs gathered in the Id Kah Mosque to protest the arrests, as well as the destruction of their city, etc. I was pretty close to the Id Kah Mosque. I heard the loud sounds, the screams, and honestly, the screams of people in great physical suffering. There was a stampede, and I knocked over a bunch of watermelons but got back to the hotel (the merchant didn't hold it against me). The army marched in and all the Uyghur shops in the city were told that they would close for three days (the Chinese of the city were either leaving or behind locked doors). All the mosques were closed and the Uyghurs were clearly scared. Trucks with loudspeakers circled around the Old City, proclaiming: "Always listen to the Communist Party. Hate separation." The Chinese news interviewed Uyghur women who happily said things like "Xinjiang has always been part of China for 2000 years. Uyghurs are Chinese, one of 55 minority groups. We hate independence and love the motherland."

The police were just kind of amazed I was there, which is probably why they didn't make me leave. One happily asked me if I had been to Shanghai yet. God. I asked a police officer what he thought of the situation, and he was optimistic, said that everything was going to be fine. He concluded by saying, "You know, in the next ten years, we'll just send more Han here and that'll just end the problem once and for all."

Kashgar was amazing, and I'm glad I went. I wouldn't tell anyone else to go to Kashgar in the future though, because I know that the Old City is going to be gone before next Christmas. Uyghur culture and Uyghur language are beautiful to hear and study, as all things become as they slowly disappear.

Comment

swan said on July 10, 2009 at 3:50 am

I'm not against development, especially inlight of the destruction which took place in other parts of China because of the earthquakes. How does one impose practical measures to protect the lives of its people and at the same time not threaten their way of life? any suggestions?

alexis said on July 10, 2009 at 4:58 am

The local CCP is getting itself a virtual war, no doubt about that. Also I read from some one saying that the Xinjiang situation maybe the worst example of the so-called tension between local government and the central government. It is said that local cadres of CCP constantly holds Xinjiang as hostage on seperatism and terrism issues, in order to blcakmail central government more power and money. And central government seems to be complying with this blackmail and things get worse and worse.

And that may to some degree explain why policies on ethnic minorities are hardly consistent throughout Xinjiang and the whole country. For a lots of things depend on how local cadres enact central government's policy. While in 'inner land', schools usually build special eateries for muslims and Huis and give assistence to them on going to mosques, in some parts of Xinjiang, where the religion is supposed to be the mainstream, things are ridiculously worse.

Glyn Moody (glynmoody) 's status on Thursday, 09-Jul-09 22:57:33 UTC - Identi.ca said on July 10, 2009 at 6:57 am

[...] http://www.thenewdominion.net/1007/a-letter-from-kashgar/ [...]

Bruce Humes said on July 10, 2009 at 10:15 am

@Swan

I assume your reference to "development" is about the destruction of the Old City in Kashgar, i.e., you may see razing the site as pro-development.

The reasons given by the government for the demolition of the Old City include safety and prevention from damage due to earthquakes. Let's be reasonble, now: Unlike in Sichuan where many, many newly built buildings and schools crumbled, the Old City in Kashgar has been there for several hundred years. Therefore, this reason sounds flawed to me.

Kashgar is not a big city — I don't think there is a high-rise in it — and there is plenty of other land that could easily be used for development.

As far as constructive ideas about how to proceed with resident-friendly development, the UN and countries all over the world have come up with many positive solutions: Establish committees with local representatives to discuss short-, mid- and long-term planning; guarantee that a significant portion of employment from demolition, building and new retail outlets will be assigned to local residents; construct new housing that meets the cultural as well as the material needs of residents, etc.

Having lived in China for over two decades, I do not believe that such arrangements were made for the Kashgar Old Town. In savvy cities like Shanghai, people band together, form their own committees, and get permits to demonstrate when they are unhappy about development projects.

In Xinjiang, I simply cannot imagine the authorities would allow Uighurs to hold such meetings or marches. Literally unthinkable.

I suggest you keep this reality in mind when you think about "development" in Xinjiang.

(15) The End of Kashgar

{visit the link to see the photos}

http://japanfocus.org/-Zhou-Yu/3183

Building a New Old City in Kashgar

Zhou Yu

Joel Martinsen translator

Old Kashgar is not long for this world. Quake fear, anxiety over ethnic unrest, and pursuit of development have spurred the authorities to launch a large-scale plan to demolish and redevelop 85% of the Old City.

There has been considerable criticism of the project among Kashgar residents and in the world world media, but it has done little to stop the project. This month's Phoenix Weekly contains an interesting cover feature on life in the Old City and how it may change in the future. The story is a little oversold based on the coverline: "The Shadow of 'East Turkestan' on China's Strategic Anti-Terrorism City," as most of the feature is about everyday life as opposed to terrorism.

Translated below is an excerpt that looks at how the area has already changed in the days since the founding of the People's Republic.

First though, a look at what's coming next. The "This is Xinjiang" blog put up a post that detailed the changes that are in store for Kashgar's old city and included photos of a promotional sign trying to sell the project to a skeptical public:

Basically, in this plan, the city will straighten the major pathways within the block. The first story, comprised of neatly squared stores, will attempt to replace the current commercial district in the area. Now, people must pass through a labyrinth of homes in order to reach the inner core, but in the future, anyone will be able to access these shops easily from the street. The project aims to cover the entire first floor with a roof, which will eliminate the traditional sunlit courtyards of Uyghur houses. Instead, I guess that street lamps will light these alleyways, which is so very environmentally friendly. A grassy surface will top the first floor. Four outdoor staircases, one from each major road, will lead to this second level, which opens to four lawns and possibly a central fountain, all enclosed by five-story apartment buildings. Finally, the project offers eight different types of apartment layouts. This plan organizes social life vertically, instead of horizontally, which dramatically cuts down on daily interactions.

The blog post has more descriptions of the reconstruction project, photos of the old city, and additional views of the plans for the new buildings.

Here's a translation of an excerpt of a much longer piece on Kashgar's Old City that ran in Phoenix Weekly: From The End of Kashgar

by Zhou Yu

Crossing the bazaar street that has already been entirely demolished, Alimjan (????) approaches his old house in the depths of the lane.

In the course of a month, the dust covering everything has made it impossible to see what sort of homes used to be here. Workers blackened in the sun sit on the ground pounding brick fragments. The earthen bricks of the oldest homes are to be discarded, ground into fine powder.

A billboard stands here describing the impressive outcome of the old city's reconstruction: trim and tidy six floor matchbox buildings, with toy-like cars running single-file between them. Behind the billboard comes the noise of real-life cars.

More than 100 meters down the lane, you reach an entirely different world.

A building standing astride the street casts a long shadow. A pair of foreign tourists amble in the shadow, unsure of whether to continue deeper into the lane. The twists and turns of the old city alleyways are like a labyrinth to tourists, who call it "a place where time stands still," and who need four-way or six-way directional indicators to help them identify through streets and dead ends. Alimjan knows all of the lanes and all of the owners of the earthen buildings on either side.

At home, Alimjan shuts the wooden door, and protected back behind his thick mud brick walls, the sweltering heat gradually recedes from his body. In the mornings, the windows of the old home are opened to let in the cool breezes, and when the sun climbs into the sky, Alimjan shuts the doors and windows tight to enjoy the coolness all day.

Alimjan sits down on the carpet that covers the floor. Sunlight filters through Islamic-style mullions to illuminate this traditional residence. In the corners are colorful tile mosaics, just within reach. The entire wall in the sitting room is a mosque-shaped plaster latticework, and the compartments are filled with fine ceramics that have been around for several generations, as old as the house itself.

Alimjan's father and grandfather were born in this mud brick house, and though Alimjan's beard has now grown as long as his grandfather's, there has been no perceptible change to the house.

Mud bricks are the most important earmark feature of homes in Kashgar. An academic in Kashgar who preferred to remain anonymous gave this description: "Square houses built of mud bricks laid out in thick layers, with a capped wooden roof covered in reeds, straw, and mud...to guard against earthquakes, the walls are built 70 to 90 cm thick, and their durability is rarely seen in the Muslim world."

Alimjan's grandfather recalled that over the 100 years since the home was built, it had always been rock-solid and never needed to be repaired. The lanes surrounding it were peaceful, and you could hardly feel the passage of time.

But sudden changes crashed into this placid life.

In 1958, Kashgar was electrified. This miraculous event changed the working habits of the inhabitants of the old city. Previously, even though they had kerosene lamps and candles, residents would still plan their days the way Allah intended, going to sleep as soon as it got dark and waking up at around 4 in the morning. Going out onto the balcony at night, you could see the moon half-hidden behind an earthen wall.

After electricity came, nighttime was like a lantern. Not only was the nighttime bazaar illuminated, but people could read at home, and they delayed their bedtime.

In 1968, red guards charged through the old lanes. They tore off women's scarves and threw them to the ground, they smashed old artifacts and tore up mosques, and they surged into people's homes and burned old books.

Two years later, the old city experienced its first major "reconstruction" under the new regime: digging tunnels.

The neighborhood committee told everyone that Soviet revisionists were going to attack. Alimjan hoisted a shovel and dug into the ground. Air-raid shelters were dug under many streets in the old city, four to seven meters down, and about two meters high.

The old city was already crowded, so the earth that was dug up had to be piled along the road. In some places it stood a meter high, so the old drainage system failed and rain and snow flooded people's yards and ate away the foundations of the walls.

In the end, Soviet revisionists did not attack. Half a year later the tunnel digging campaign came to a quiet end, and residents sealed up the strange tunnels that had entrances but no exits. The days continued on.

At the end of the 1990s, running water came to the old city. Alimjan remembers that it came along with a number of other things: the term "East Turkestan" circulated ever more stridently through the old lanes, and mosques and public address systems echoed with lectures about ethnic unity and anti-splittism.

Then one lane after another was torn down. In 2002, renovations to the Id Kah Mosque commenced.

During this round of renovations, the traditional bazaar and old residential area in front of the mosque vanished and were replaced by a broad square and giant commercial buildings on the other side of the street.

This time, things were different from the past. A Kashgar official who preferred to remain anonymous recalled that between 2002 and 2006, the sounds of disturbances in the old city were carried overseas.

In 2004, Minister of Construction Wang Guangtao made an inspection tour of Kashgar. In a speech, Wang said that as soon as he got out of the car, he went looking for the old city: "Earthen-walled structures cover four square kilometers, and in the middle a mosque famous across Central Asia. Let me make it more tangible for you: these four square kilometers are worth more than the districts surrounding you, their price is far higher."

Wang stressed that the old city's original appearance had to be preserved as much as possible while improving the road network and expanding services: "Mud brick structures are the basic characteristic of this ancient city...plans for precautionary strengthening against earthquakes should not be overemphasized."

The eye of the foreign media first turned toward the old city's reconstruction in 2006. Alimjan was surprised to discover that their voices of protest seemed to have born fruit: large-scale reconstruction in the old city largely came to a halt.

But after the Wenchuan Earthquake in 2008, calls for "earthquake precautions" overwhelmed everything else.

The television repeatedly aired scenes of the ruins in Wenchuan, and the old city was described as a dangerous place that could completely collapse at any moment.

This time, the government's will was firm. "We will absolutely not let a few people use the guise of protecting historical culture to hoodwink our populace, making them pay a price in blood and face a loss of life and property to protect old and dangerous homes that have no value whatsoever, and we will absolutely not let those people with ulterior motives fabricate erroneous public opinion to prevent the development of Kashgar," warned the General Management and Publicity Outline for the Reconstruction Project for Old and Dangerous Houses in Kashgar's Old City.

On February 27, 2009, at a municipal mobilization meeting, officials were requested "to immediately dismiss any leaders who intentionally interfere with or refuse to cooperate on the work, or do not carry out their respective duties and obligations. There is no alternative...."

On March 25, the first stage of demolition of the Östang Boyi* neighborhood commenced, and nearly one hundred families were moved to a residential neighborhood five kilometers away.

"We had no right to choose." One resident of the street said that after being moved to the new district, some of the older people would come back to the street in the evenings to stand in front of their demolished homes for a long while.

On his way back home, Alimjan saw this scene play out in the shadow of the old street-spanning building: two old men in identical doppas, with identical white beards, clad in identical long robes, stood in the shadows shaking hands and exchanging a greeting in Uighur, while a tourist snapped a photo.

What the camera did not capture was the tear at the corner of one old man's eye, while the other felt in his heart an uncertainty that stretched as long as the lane itself.

Note: ?????. I originally had the Pinyin Wusitangboyi, and replaced it with a version supplied by a commenter. Neither rendering appears to be all that common in English.

* Phoenix Weekly ????, The End of Kashgar (?????), June 2009 (#331), p16
* This is Xinjiang blog: Signs of the Fall
* Far West China: Kashgar's Old Town Bulldozed; Is Uyghur Culture in Danger?
* The New Dominion: Old Kashgar: Reconfiguring Space With Bulldozers, includes links to a number of detailed news reports

Translated and posted by Joel Martinsen at Danwei on July 1, 2009
Source: JDM090701phoenixs.jpg
Phoenix Weekly, June (II) 2009

Recommended citation: Zhou Yu, "Building a New Old City in Kashgar: China, Central Asia, Cultural Clash," The Asia-Pacific Journal, Vol 27-2-09, July 6, 2009.

(16) China's Ethnic Fault Lines - one majority nationality, the Han, and 55 minority groups

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052970203547904574279952210843672.html

JULY 10, 2009, 11:34 P.M. ET

China's Ethnic Fault Lines

Rising tensions and resistance to Beijing's control challenge China's 'harmonious' society

By DRU C. GLADNEY

The myth of a monolithic China was shattered this past week. Running barely beneath the surface of what the government has sought to portray as a "harmonious" society, the fracture created by the Urumqi and Lhasa riots threatens to shake the country.

Foreigners and the Chinese themselves typically picture China's population as a vast Han majority with a sprinkling of exotic minorities living along the country's borders. This understates China's tremendous cultural, geographic, and linguistic diversity—in particular the important cultural differences within the Han population. Across the country, China is experiencing a resurgence of local ethnicity and culture, most notably among southerners such as the Cantonese and Hakka, who are now classified as Han.

Cultural and linguistic cleavages could worsen in a China weakened by internal strife, an economic downturn, uneven growth, or a struggle over future political succession. The initial brawl between workers in a Guangdong toy factory, which left at least two Uighur dead on June 25, prompted the mass unrest in Xinjiang on July 5 that ended with 156 dead, thousands injured and 1,500 arrested, with ongoing violence spreading throughout the region.

China is also concerned about the "Kosovo effect," accusing its Muslim and other ethnic minorities of seeking outside international (read Western) support for separatist goals. But ethnic problems in President Hu Jintao's China go far deeper than the "official" minorities. Sichuanese, Cantonese, Shanghainese, and Hunanese are avidly advocating increased cultural nationalism and resistance to Beijing central control. Ethnic strife did not dismantle the former Soviet Union, but it did come apart along boundaries defined in large part by ethnic and national difference.

The unprecedented early departure of President Hu from the G-8 meetings in Italy to attend to the ethnic problems in Xinjiang is an indication of the seriousness with which China regards this issue. The National Day celebrations scheduled for October 2009 seek to highlight 60 years of the "harmonious" leadership of the Communist Party in China, and like the 2008 Olympics, its enormous success. The rioting threatens to derail these celebrations.

Officially, China is made up of 56 nationalities: one majority nationality, the Han, and 55 minority groups. The 2000 census revealed a total official minority population of nearly 104 million, or approximately 9% of the total population. The peoples identified as Han comprise 91% of the population, from Beijing in the north to Canton in the south, and include the Hakka, Fujianese, Cantonese and others. These Han are thought to be united by a common history, culture and written language; differences in language, dress, diet and customs are regarded as minor. An active, state-sponsored program assists the official minority cultures and promotes their economic development (with mixed results).

Sun Yat-Sen, leader of the republican movement that toppled the last imperial dynasty of China (the Qing) in 1911, promoted the idea that there were "Five Peoples of China"—the majority Han being one and the others being the Manchus, Mongolian, Tibetan and Hui (a term that included all Muslims in China, now divided into Uighurs, Kazakhs, Hui etc.). Sun was a Cantonese, educated in Hawaii, who wanted both to unite the Han and to mobilize them and all other non-Manchu groups in China (including Mongols, Tibetans and Muslims) into a modern, multi-ethnic nationalist movement against the Manchu Qing state and foreign imperialists. This expanded policy with the recognition of a total 55 official minority nationalities, also helped the Communists' long-term goal of forging a united Chinese nation.

Cultural diversity within the Han has not been officially recognized because of a deep (and well-founded) fear of the country breaking up into feuding kingdoms, as happened in the 1910s and 1920s. China has historically been divided along north-south lines, into Five Kingdoms, Warring States or local satrapies, as often as it has been united. Indeed, China as it currently exists, including large pieces of territory occupied by Mongols, Turkic peoples, Tibetans, etc., is three times as large as it was under the last Chinese dynasty, the Ming, which fell in 1644. A strong, centralizing government (whether of foreign or internal origin) has often tried to impose ritualistic, linguistic, economic and political uniformity throughout its borders.

The supposedly homogenous Han speak eight mutually unintelligible languages (Mandarin, Wu, Yue, Xiang, Hakka, Gan, Southern Min and Northern Min). Even these subgroups show marked linguistic and cultural diversity. In the Yue language family, for example, Cantonese speakers are barely intelligible to Taishan speakers, and the Southern Min dialects of Quanzhou, Changzhou and Xiamen are equally difficult to communicate across. The Chinese linguist Y. R. Chao has shown that the mutual unintelligibility of, say, Cantonese and Mandarin is as great as that of Dutch and English or French and Italian. Mandarin was imposed as the national language early in the 20th century and has become the lingua franca, but, like Swahili in Africa, it must often be learned in school and is rarely used in everyday life across much of China.

The country's policy toward minorities involves official recognition, limited autonomy and unofficial efforts at control. Although totaling only 9% of the population, they are concentrated in resource-rich areas spanning nearly 60% of the country's landmass and exceed 90% of the population in counties and villages along many border areas of Xinjiang, Tibet, Inner Mongolia and Yunnan. Xinjiang occupies one-sixth of China's landmass, with Tibet the second-largest province.

Surprisingly, it has now become popular, especially in Beijing, for people to "come out" as Manchus or other ethnic groups. While the Han population grew 10% from 1982 to 1990, the minority population grew 35% overall—from 67 million to 91 million. The Manchus, long thought to have been assimilated into the Han majority, added three autonomous districts and increased their population by 128% from 4.3 million to 9.8 million. The population of the Gelao people in Guizhou shot up an incredible 714% in just eight years. These rates reflect more than a high birthrate; they indicate "category-shifting," as people redefine their nationality from Han to minority or from one minority to another. In inter-ethnic marriages, parents can decide the nationality of their children, and the children themselves can choose their nationality at age 18.

Why is it still popular to be "officially" ethnic in today's China? This is an interesting question given the riots in Xinjiang recently and in Tibet last year, not to mention the generally negative reporting in the Western press about minority discrimination in China. By the mid-1980s, it had become clear that those groups identified as official minorities were beginning to receive real benefits from the implementation of several affirmative action programs. The most significant privileges included permission to have more children (except in urban areas, minorities are generally not bound by the one-child policy), pay fewer taxes, obtain better (albeit Mandarin Chinese) education for their children, have greater access to public office, speak and learn their native languages, worship and practice their religion (often including practices such as shamanism that are still banned among the Han) and express their cultural differences through the arts and popular culture.

Indeed, one might even say it has become popular to be 'ethnic' in today's China. Mongolian hot pot, Muslim noodle and Korean barbecue restaurants proliferate in every city, while minority clothing, artistic motifs and cultural styles adorn Chinese private homes. In Beijing, one of the most popular restaurants is the Tibetan chain Makye-ame. There, the nouveau riche of Beijing eat exotic foods such as yak kabobs served by beautiful waitresses in Tibetan clothing during Tibetan music and dance performances. With the dramatic economic explosion in South China, southerners and others have begun to assert cultural and political differences. Whereas comedians used to make fun of southern ways and accents, southerners (especially Shanghainese) now scorn northerners for their lack of sophistication and business acumen. As any Mandarin-speaking Beijing resident will tell you, bargaining for vegetables or cellular telephones in Guangzhou or Shanghai markets is becoming more difficult for them due to growing pride in the local languages: Non-native speakers always pay a higher price. Rising self-awareness among the Cantonese is paralleled by the reassertion of identity among the Hakka, the southern Fujianese Min, the Swatow and other peoples now empowered by economic success and embittered by age-old restraints from the north.

Interestingly, most of these southern groups traditionally regarded themselves not as Han but as Tang, descendants of the great Tang dynasty (618-907 A.D.) and its southern bases. Most Chinatowns in North America, Europe and Southeast Asia are inhabited by descendants of Chinese immigrants from the mainly Tang areas of southern China. The next decade may see the resurgence of Tang nationalism in southern China in opposition to northern Han nationalism, especially as economic wealth in the south eclipses that of the north. Some have postulated that the heavy coverage by the state-sponsored media of the riots in Xinjiang, as opposed to the news blackout in Tibet, was a deliberate effort to stimulate Han Chinese nationalism and antiminority ethnic sentiment, in an effort to bring the majority population together during a period of economic and social instability.

China's very economic vitality has the potential to fuel ethnic and linguistic division, rather than further integrating the country. As southern and coastal areas get richer, much of central, northern and northwestern China hasn't kept up, increasing competition and contributing to age-old resentments across ethnic, linguistic and cultural lines. Uneven distribution of wealth has fueled deep resentment in the poorer, often ethnic regions of China.

The result of all these changes is that China is becoming increasingly de-centered. This is a fearsome prospect for those holding the reins in Beijing and perhaps was a factor in the decisions to crack down on the June 1989 demonstrations in Tiananmen Square, keep a tight rein on the Olympics and respond swiftly and harshly to riots in Tibet and Xinjiang. Last year the government admitted to more than 100,000 "mass incidents" of civil unrest.

A China weakened by internal strife, inflation, uneven economic growth or the struggle for political succession could become further divided along cultural and linguistic lines. China's threats will most likely come from civil unrest, and perhaps internal ethnic unrest from within the so-called Han majority. We should recall that it was a southerner, born and educated abroad, who led the revolution that ended China's last dynasty. When that empire fell, competing warlords—often supported by foreign powers—fought for turf.

—Dru Gladney is president of the Pacific Basin Institute at Pomona College.

(17) Chinese leadership demands "severe punishment" of Xinjiang protestors

By John Chan

10 July 2009

http://www.wsws.org/articles/2009/jul2009/uigh-j10.shtml

At a crisis meeting on Wednesday night, China's Stalinist leadership ordered severe police repression against the unrest in the north-western province of Xinjiang. President Hu Jintao cut his trip to the G8 summit in Italy and returned to the country to attend the meeting.

In a statement issued yesterday, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) Politburo Standing Committee declared: "We must by law severely attack those hard-core elements who planned and organised this incident." The statement again blamed the unrest on overseas organisations, citing the "three forces" of separatism, terrorism and extremism.

In fact, the protests erupted last Sunday among Uighur students and workers in Urumqi, the provincial capital, over the bashing to death of two Uighur workers in a toy export factory in southern Guangdong province last month.

Urumqi

The July 5 protests and subsequent police-military repression have officially caused 156 deaths (mainly Han Chinese people reportedly killed by rioters) and led to the arrests of 1,500 people. Uighur exiled groups, however, have claimed that the death toll is much higher, and consists mainly of Uighur protestors killed by security forces and Han mobs.

Amid massive job losses throughout China, the Politburo's belligerent message reflects deep concern in the CCP leadership that Xinjiang's unrest could have broader ramifications. "Instigators, organizers, culprits and violent criminals in the unrest shall be severely punished in accordance with the law," the statement said, while adding that those "taking part in the riot due to provocation and deceit by separatists, should be given education".

While Urumqi's mayor, Jerla Ismaudin, has proclaimed the return of calm to the city, massive military parades continued in the streets yesterday, aimed at intimidating potential opposition. Paramilitary officers marched in columns hundreds of metres long, and the security forces kept Han Chinese and Uighur districts separated.

In the evening, 8,000 troops were crammed into trucks and armoured personnel carriers as helicopters hovered above the city in another show of force. Vans with loudspeakers blared: "Protect the people!" and "Maintain stability". Some 5,000 paramilitary troop reinforcements were deployed on Wednesday, bringing the total security force to 25,000.

Hu sent the highest state security chief, Zhou Yongkang, to Urumqi, where he told the elite special police: "[You] should crack down on the criminals in accordance with the law ... I hope you will do your best to maintain ethnic unity". Earlier, local CCP boss Li Zhi declared that rioters would be executed.

For fear of causing a broader confrontation, the Politburo statement singled out a "tiny few" leading protestors. It also called for national unity and an end to communal violence, emphasising that "Han people cannot be separated from national minorities". The Beijing regime is acutely aware that the country could be torn apart if further ethnic tensions develop.

The leadership has mobilised every conservative force it can, from religious leaders to ethnic minority elites and Chinese overseas diaspora organisations, to denounce the unrest in Xinjiang. Obul Hashim Haxim, a local imam who is a member of the National Peoples Congress, called on Uighur Muslims "to do their part to protect ethnic unity and social stability for a harmonious society".

Local authorities put up red stickers in residential areas, saying, "Don't listen to any rumours" and "Keep calm and maintain public order". Nevertheless, thousands of residents—Uighur and Han alike—are fleeing the city and flooding into bus and train stations and the airport, fearing further violence. Uighurs are leaving for southern Xinjiang cities and towns where the Uighur population is more predominant.

At the train station, a Uighur worker travelling to Kashgar told the South China Morning Post: "I still have parents at home to support. It's not worth risking your life for a job". A Han migrant miner from Anhui expressed similar fears, saying that 12 of his 20 colleagues had left for home. A local bus station director said 200,000 students could leave the city this week.

The Post reported: "The authorities appeared happy to help the students leave, summoning hundreds of extra buses from across the region to take them away." The regime is keen to see students, both Uighur and Han, leave, as any unrest among them could ignite a wider movement, especially as college graduates face rising unemployment.

Heavy security measures have been imposed in other centres of Xinjiang, such as Kashgar, where a small protest on Monday was crushed. An Internet café manager told the Associated Press (AP): "The city has a heavy military presence and it feels like a ghost town. No one is really walking around on the streets, whereas it's usually with people and traffic." He added that many businesses, especially those operated by Han Chinese, were closed because of the fear of riots similar to those in Urumqi.

Beijing is carrying out a PR campaign by inviting foreign journalists to visit Urumqi, unlike its efforts to block coverage from Tibet during protests last year. But the claim of being more transparent flies in the face of the severe restrictions that have been imposed on electronic communications. The official media centre set up in Urumqi is one of the few places where Internet access has not been cut.

Internet control has been tightened nationally, and video and social networking sites such as Youku and Fanfou have been blocked from providing information about the unrest in Urumqi. A report by Bloomberg on July 9 noted that the Facebook and YouTube web sites were inaccessible in many parts of China.

One reason for the Internet censorship is that although Uighur protestors have burned shops and killed Han civilians, there are reports that the security forces provoked the violence and then suppressed demonstrators with force. A Uighur student named Parizat told AP on Wednesday that the July 5 protestors initially carried Chinese national flags and that he was shocked by the repression: "I never thought something like this would happen. We're all Chinese citizens."

In a briefing to the Italian parliament this week, an exiled Uighur leader, Erkin Alptekin, insisted that 140 protestors were killed at first and their bodies were tossed onto trucks and taken away. "When the Uighurs heard the people were fired upon, parents all came out looking for their sons and daughters", but the security forces dispersed them with batons, tear gas and bullets, killing a total of 600 to 800 people, he said.

The roots of the ethnic conflict lie in the CCP regime's pro-capitalist measures, which have led to deepening social inequality throughout the entire country. During an interview with Qatar's Al-Jazeera Television, Uighur exiled leader Rebiya Kadeer presented a photograph of massive columns of Chinese troops on the streets of Shishou city in Hubei province on June 21, cracking down on protests of workers and the poor. She claimed that the scene was from Urumqi. Her apparent mistake simply underscored the basic fact that Beijing's police-state suppression is aimed against the working class as a whole.

While backward elements in the Han and Uighur communities have promoted communal hatred, feeding off the tensions generated by deepening social inequality, ordinary people have expressed dismay at the tragic ethnic conflicts. A toilet cleaner in her 60s, Zhu Xinqin, told Singapore's Strait Times in tears: "Interview me. I have things to tell the world". She said: "Forty years in Xinjiang and I have never seen this. My neighbours are Uighurs and they treat me like their mother. My heart hurts. It pains me. I saw what happened. First, the Uighurs attacked the Han Chinese. Then, the Han Chinese attacked the Uighurs... Please stop, please stop fighting".

A Uighur surgeon at Xinjiang Peoples Hospital, which treated more than 320 people last Sunday, told Xinhua news agency: "In our eyes there were no ethnicities, but the injured." He added: "Our hospital is a multi-ethnical collective with 13 ethnicities, like a family. I really don't understand why this happened."