After Mass Detentions,
China Razes Muslim Communities to Build a Loyal City
By Josh Chin and Clément Bürge (WSJ)
March 20, 2019 10:04 p.m. ET
Authorities take down once-bustling Uighur neighborhoods to create a compliant economic hub
URUMQI, China—In this old Silk Road city in western China, a
state security campaign involving the detention of vast numbers of people has
moved to its next stage: demolishing their neighborhoods and purging their
culture.
Two years after authorities began rounding up Urumqi’s
mostly Muslim ethnic Uighur residents, many of the anchors of Uighur life and
identity are being uprooted. Empty mosques remain, while the shantytown homes
that surrounded them have been replaced by glass towers and retail strips like
many found across China.
Food stalls that sold fresh nang,
the circular flatbread that is to Uighur society what baguettes are to the
French, are gone. The young men that once baked the nang
(or nan in Uighur) have disappeared, as have many of their customers.
Uighur-language books are missing from store shelves in a city, the capital of
China’s Xinjiang region, that has long been a center of the global Uighur
community.
Supplanting the Turkic culture that long defined large parts
of Urumqi is a sanitized version catering to Chinese tourists. On a recent
morning in the Erdaoqiao neighborhood, the
once-bustling heart of Uighur Urumqi, nang ovens were
nowhere to be seen—but souvenir shops sold nang-shaped
pocket mirrors, nang bottle openers and circular
throw pillows with covers printed to look like nang.
Before and After
Urumqi’s Heijiashan neighborhood
was once a center of Uighur migrant life in the city. In 2010, a year after
deadly ethnic riots, authorities began knocking down its low-rise courtyards
and moving some residents into high-rises, but stopped after running into local
resistance. They resumed razing older houses after the current crackdown began
in 2017, and are preparing to build new residential towers on the site.
The transformation of Urumqi (pronounced u-RUUM-chi) is the
leading edge of a campaign by China’s ruling Communist Party to forcibly
assimilate the Uighurs. Beijing says the detentions combat terrorism and the
demolition, along with billions of dollars of investment in the region, is
bringing development.
“Ethnic unity is the lifeline of all ethnic groups in China
and the foundation of economic progress in Xinjiang,” the region’s governor, Shohrat Zakir, told China’s
annual legislative session last week.
The party’s goal, experts say, is to reinforce its control
in Xinjiang by remaking the long recalcitrant region in its own image, and to
secure it as a hub for President Xi Jinping’s global development ambitions.
When plans for Urumqi’s urban overhaul were announced in
2017, the party-controlled Xinjiang Daily said the government would offer
compensation to residents forced to move, and planned new residential districts
“designed with full consideration of the customs and convenience of all ethnic
groups.” The Urumqi and Xinjiang governments didn’t respond to requests for
comment about the urban overhaul.
China’s Communist Party has waged an aggressive campaign in
Xinjiang to counter what it says are violent, extremist tendencies among the
region’s 14 million Turkic Muslims, most of them Uighurs.
To realize its “deradicalization”
goals, authorities have detained what United Nations experts say have been as
many as a million Muslims in a network of internment camps—and subjected the
rest to mass digital surveillance. Chinese leaders characterize the camps as
vocational training centers, promoting them as an innovation in the global war
on terror and disputing the one-million figure.
“We can’t have a culture anymore,” said a Uighur resident of
Urumqi who works at a state-owned resources company. He said he stopped
visiting his local mosque after officials came to his house to confiscate his
Quran. “No one goes any more. It’s too dangerous,” he said.
By squeezing some expressions of Uighur identity and turning
others into cultural kitsch, the government is trying to weaken ethnic bonds,
said Darren Byler, who studies Uighur migration at the University of
Washington.
Since the post-Mao reform period began in the 1980s, Urumqi
has seen bombings, protests and other acts of ethnic strife. Riots in 2009 left
close to 200 dead and many more injured.
Since then, the party has grown steadily more forceful in
trying to snuff off out a long-simmering Uighur separatist movement. Beijing
says the separatists are motivated by radical Islam and blames them for the
riots and a series of attacks in the years following.
Scholars and human-rights activists say much of the violence
has been a response to heavy-handed policing, restrictions on religion and
perceptions among Uighurs of being marginalized in what they see as their
homeland.
“A lot of people have left,” said an employee at a
once-popular live-music bar in one of Urumqi’s Uighur-dominated districts. With
barely a dozen customers on a recent Saturday night, he declined to explain
where the people had gone. “That’s political. I can’t say,” he said.
Moments later, three men, one equipped with a body camera,
entered the bar and wrote down the identification card numbers of the Uighur
customers. The employee said the men had been sent by local officials, and that
such inspections were routine.
Urumqi served as a garrison town for much of its roughly
250-year history, and its residents are mostly members of China’s Han majority,
with Uighurs over the past decade accounting for around 13% of the city’s
people.
But in a single year, 2017, Urumqi’s official population
fell by 15%—to 2.2 million from 2.6 million the year before, the first drop in
more than three decades.
That was the year, in May 2017, that city police began
rounding up local Uighurs and taking them to detention camps, residents said.
Around the same time, they said, authorities in Urumqi forced Uighur migrants
from other parts of Xinjiang to return to their hometowns. The Urumqi
government has yet to release a new population breakdown by ethnicity.
As Uighurs were forced out of the city, government money
flowed in. Beijing wants Urumqi to serve as a hub for the Belt and Road
Initiative, Mr. Xi’s plan to build infrastructure across Eurasia and elsewhere
in an updating of Silk Road trade routes. Last year, the city approved a $6
billion airport expansion and broke ground on $4 billion in construction
projects in the city’s suburbs, including a Belt and Road industrial park.
Total investment in infrastructure, factories and other
fixed assets topped 202 billion yuan ($30 billion) in 2017, up 25% over the
previous year, and grew a further 9% in the first 10 months of 2018, according
to official data.
The Urumqi government also earmarked 70 billion yuan ($10
billion) last year to demolish and rebuild the city’s shantytowns, which housed
large numbers of Uighur migrants from southern Xinjiang. Authorities see young
migrant men, the same group that baked the city’s nang,
as instigators of violence and ripe targets for radicalization.
One settlement reduced to rubble is Heijiashan,
once a low-rise jumble of makeshift houses built around a market and two
mosques. Before being flattened over the course of 2017 and 2018, it was a
center of Uighur migrant life in the city, said the University of Washington’s
Mr. Byler.
“On Fridays, 5,000 to 10,000 people would come for the
prayer,” Mr. Byler said.
On a recent visit, the mosques still stood in the shadows of
rising apartment towers, but appeared abandoned. While attempting to film them,
Journal reporters were detained and taken to a nearby police station.
Summoned by police, a district propaganda official said the
government had taken care not to raze the mosques. “That shows the government’s
respect for Islam,” said the official, a Mr. Xing.
The city had more than 400 mosques as late as 2015,
according to state media. Several have been closed down or repurposed in recent
years, while those still in service are surrounded by razor wire and
surveillance cameras, with only a trickle of elderly worshipers.
Chinese authorities have lately started to release some
detainees and put them under house arrest, according to Gene Bunin, a
Russian-American who lived in Urumqi and who helps maintain a database of
members of minority groups who have gone missing in Xinjiang. Mr. Bunin said he
began receiving reports of the releases from detainees’ friends and relatives
in December, following a wave of criticism of the camps in international media
and at the U.N.
The Communist Party’s aim isn’t to eradicate Uighurs,
according to Adrian Zenz, an expert in Chinese ethnic
policy. Instead, he says, the party wants to strip the influence of Islam from
Uighur culture to present the semblance of cultural diversity without the
substance.
“It was supposed to be automatic. With material progress,
the masses should be rescued from the opium of religion,” Mr. Zenz said. “The current regime is trying to lend history a
hand.”
Authorities in Xinjiang are also looking to promote tourism,
which would bring more investment and help eradicate the poverty they say
nurtures radicalism.
North of downtown Urumqi, tourists can pose for pictures
under a towering sculpture of a nang and purchase
more than 150 varieties of the staple from industrial kitchens at a new 226,000
square-foot Nang Culture Industry Park.
“Staff wear white, and their squeaky clean image bumps up
the ‘attractiveness index’ not a small amount,” a local Communist
Party-controlled newspaper said in a story on the park in January.
The tourism effort can also be seen in the transformation of
the former Uighur commercial center, Erdaoqiao. The
neighborhood was the site of the worst violence during the 2009 riots. In
November 2017, when the Journal visited to document the reach of Beijing’s surveillance
state, Erdaoqiao hummed with activity and tension.
A year later, it resembled a theme park.
A pair of pedestrian promenades guarded by large security
gates have replaced streets previously dense with cars, pedestrians and police
outposts. Around a large central bazaar, the sounds of commerce conducted in
Uighur have given way to a loudspeaker broadcast offering cheerful greetings in
Mandarin and English.
“Hello, dear tourists!” says the recorded voice, inviting
visitors to enjoy “the magnificent reappearance of the commercial hub of the
Silk Road.”
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of Muslim Uighurs (Feb. 10, 2019)
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China Supersizes Internment Camps in Xinjiang
Despite International Criticism (Nov. 1, 2018)
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China’s Muslim Crackdown Extends to Those Living
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Twelve Days in Xinjiang: How China’s
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Write to Josh Chin at
josh.chin@wsj.com and Clément Bürge at
clement.burge@wsj.com
Appeared in the March
21, 2019, print edition as 'China Razes Territory, Dismantling a Culture.'