Hello.
Over the years I've always been interested in learning as much as humanly possible about Xinjiang, and a while back a good friend of mine passed along this first person account of a foreigner named Tim who spent some time teaching English at a University in Xinjiang. I always enjoy a first person account, I hope this makes an interesting read.
The original post can be found: HERE
In case that gets blocked I posted the article below:
_______________________________
Too late to talk about Xinjiang?
魏一帆 更新于2009年08月2日
I’ve wanted to write about Xinjiang and the aftermath of events because I lived there for several years. Despite trying several times, I have not written anything for a month. Many people have asked me over the past few weeks what I think really happened. They obviously have their doubts about the official version of events. So do I.
The issue of terrorism is an important one to address. The government maintains that the violence on July 5 was the result of an organized effort. Frankly, this seems dubious to me. Whether it is factual or not, the question of why would Uyghurs would want to do this remains. What conditions would lead to such violence?
I can only speak from my experience living and working there for several years. I only have stories to tell, some of which are based on hearsay. But they will give a sense of the frustrations in Xinjiang.
The day I arrived to teach at Xinjiang University, I noticed that none of the minorities wore traditional hats or veils. A student explained to me that it is not allowed. Nor are mustaches. He said if students are caught praying they face punishment, even expulsion. A fellow teacher confirmed this later.
One day a supervisor who was Han Chinese told me that Uyghurs have it very good because of preferential policies. They can have two children and it is easier to get into college. Later that week a Uyghur friend told me of a protest by Uyghur college graduates. He said none of them could find jobs and that the rate of unemployment is much higher than for Han Chinese.
One day I was teaching a group of seniors in college who were looking for jobs. One young man was frustrated because he said he encountered signs at a job fair that said: “Minorities need not apply.”
One day a Uyghur friend invited me to a traditional muslim banquet. I was the only non-Uyghur among several hundred. Drinking alcohol is not permitted in Islam but there was plenty of baijiu. Near the end of the night, one guest leaned over and said to me unconvincingly, “We are not supposed to do this but the Han make us [get drunk].”
One day I was teaching a class and asked, “What will Xinjiang be like in 50 years?” A Han Chinese girl raised her hand and answered, “All Uyghurs will finally be able to speak Chinese.” The government had just begun implementing a policy of Chinese only in all schools.
I answered: “It is very important for the development of Xinjiang for minorities to speak Chinese. It’s the only way to find good jobs. But what do you think will happen to the culture? Many of my Uyghur friends are worried that they will lose it. According to the research I am familiar with, there are better ways to implement this kind of language policy.” A Uyghur student behind her looked up at me with an expression of gratitude and awe. No one is allowed to point out weaknesses in government policy and get away with it except in a situation like this. I’m sure he had never heard that before.
For the past month I have censored myself because I did not want to criticize or even seem to criticize government actions in Xinjiang. I fear for my friends and my job. I’m also waiting for Southern Weekly to print more articles on the situation with interviews of people who can explain the situation more clearly and authoritatively than I can.
The only salient point I can make at this point is that while terrorism is a real danger, it tends to obscure the core issues. And as long as these issues go unresolved, the threat of violence will continue. Public discussion would help resolve these issues.
Perhaps my words are too late now that Xinjiang is largely out of the news cycle. But for my own peace of mind I need to write this. I have censored myself for the past month, contributing nothing to my column but editorial translations. This is because there is a culture of fear regarding Xinjiang which has caused me to keep quiet. This too is a kind of violence.
__________________________________
--
Ryan Pyle
Photographer
ryan@ryanpyle.com
Website: www.ryanpyle.com
Archive: http://archive.ryanpyle.com
_______________________________________
Showing posts with label Editorial. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Editorial. Show all posts
Monday, August 24, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Ryan Pyle Blog: Missing Pages (Economist)
Hello.
After spending several exhausting days in rural Tibet I managed to get home in one piece, albeit very sore from the nine days I spent combing through remote river valleys on foot.
Upon my return to Shanghai I was craving news, newspapers and news magazines. I love to know what's going on and I was mostly craving my Economist. I reckon I would have a backlog of two or three issues waiting for me at home and I was more than ready to put my feet up and dive right in.
To my astonishment my Economist magazines were not waiting for me at home. They had failed to show up. This often happens when sensitive China articles are published, but to be honest it hasn't happened in months and I was pretty pissed off by the fact that the post office just decides to put a hold on my magazines when ever it feels like it.
So in a huff I made my way to the grocery store, that I frequent, and managed to get a week old copy, the May 28th to June 4th version that has (in Asia) "Kim's Bombshell" on the cover. Feeling happy after my purchase I brought it home and pushed through the opening sections and devoured each article at a record pace (as you do after a long absence away from any form of reading/writing). I was so quick in fact that I read from Page 30 to Page 33 almost without noticing that Page 31/32 was missing. It had been torn out.
Now, it had been torn out very neatly and in a fashion that didn't disrupt the other articles. But the act itself lead to several questions: Like, how many people in China are employed to rip out magazine articles that are deemed sensitive? No wonder China Post is losing money hand over fist; so much so that DHL and FedEx have now been banned from operating domestically in China - a very protectionist move. Also, who decides what articles are deemed offensive or not? Is this why sometimes my other magazines don't show up? Who is this magazine editing actually targeting, foreigners or Chinese? If it is targeting foreigners, might the effort be seen as futile? If this behavior is directed at Chinese, I would be curious to know how many locals are reading the Economist that are not web savvy enough to know that the week of June 4th was the anniversary of Tiananmen. Is this the behavior of a global power? Is this the behavior of a regional power? Does the United States censor and rip out pages of Chinese language magazines and periodicals? Food for thought.
Now, the page in question "Banyan: The Party Goes On" deals specifically with Tiananmen and the party's survival skills, and it is copied below. Is this article really so piercing and critical that it requires the embarrassment involved in being torn out of the magazine by hand several thousand times? Me thinks not. I would expect behavior like this from Burma, but not China. It's a weak effort from a seemingly strong country. Imagine how the country will progress when we, locals and foreigners, begin being treated like adults; who can actually handle the truth. Could be a magical era, think of all the prison space that could be freed up.
Copywrite: The Economist
Banyan
The party goes on
May 28th 2009
From The Economist print edition
Who, 20 years ago, would have thought that the Communist Party could come to this?
WHEN the tanks departed Beijing after the crackdown of June 1989, no one with an interest in China thought the matter ended. The Chinese Communist Party had won its battle for survival, but the war seemed unwinnable. All the more so after communism collapsed in Eastern Europe later that year, followed by the Soviet Union. Even China’s lunge for breakneck growth from 1992 looked set to accelerate forces the party might not control. As the party’s ideological and moral foundations crumbled, it was no longer clear what on earth it stood for.
China-watchers’ scenarios ran from party collapse to a democratising path. As late as 1998 Bill Clinton was able to tell his Chinese host, President Jiang Zemin, that suppressing dissent put China “on the wrong side of history”. Banyan was in the audience that day, his Flying Pigeon (state-made bicycle) outside. Mr Clinton’s words seemed self-evident. But with hindsight, much of where the West said China was going was wishful thinking.
What nearly no one predicted has transpired. Today, the party is as strong at home as at any time since it seized power in 1949. Though still authoritarian, it rules largely by consent, preferring persuasion to violence and intimidation—though these remain handy, as during the crushing of Tibetan riots last year.
Abroad, its prestige is as high: some believe China’s economy is about to save the world. Mr Jiang’s successor, Hu Jintao, has been welcomed at the top table of world leaders. On her first trip to Beijing as secretary of state, Hillary Clinton was as blunt as her husband had been a decade earlier, but with a different message: the United States would not let China’s human-rights abuses obstruct the history being made between these two great states.
It is a commonplace that the party’s legitimacy is built on economic growth. Yet China’s leaders have long considered that to be merely the (simplistic) half of it. After the massacre, the Communist Party set about transforming itself. It launched a vast historical investigation into how political parties fall, and how they stay in power. Everyone was scrutinised, from Saddam Hussein to Scandinavian social democrats. The conclusion: adapt or die.
The outcome is a wholesale reinvention of the party, a process accelerated after Mr Hu stepped up as paramount leader in 2004. Shortcomings that were identified included corruption (a chief complaint of the Tiananmen students), lack of accountability in decision-making, no convincing ideology, and an ossified structure. In a recent book (“China’s Communist Party: Atrophy and Adaptation”), David Shambaugh describes how the 74m-strong party has fired whole armies of time-servers. Bright technocrats and entrepreneurs have been recruited. Retirement rules have been revamped (the Soviet Union’s gerontocracy was noted). Party members have gone back to school: three weeks a year and three months for every three years of mid-career training. More appointments are open to peer scrutiny before they are filled. The Communist Party is vastly more able to govern.
Some in the wishful West will see this as a proto-democratisation of a Leninist state. The opposite is the case. Staying in power is the party’s only credo now that revolution has been jettisoned. It is the sole reason for revamping the mechanisms of power.
China’s other manufacturing industry
A case in point is the Communists’ approach since 1989 to the crucial field of propaganda. With the end of Maoist mobilisation, the party turned to Western techniques of public relations and mass media, manufacturing consent by guiding public opinion in certain directions while barring it from others. In “Marketing Dictatorship”, Anne-Marie Brady sums up the party’s approach as emphasising achievements, not allowing bad news during holiday periods or around sensitive dates (including June 4th), and not raising problems that can’t be solved (unemployment, inequality). It talks up the economy, regularly demonises the United States and uses Orwellian newspeak to shape the debate about certain subjects (“party-state” is banned in public discourse in favour of “the political party in power”). It presents stories in ways that encourage people to take sides. It turns natural disasters into quasi-religious occasions of national solidarity. And always, always repeat after me: “Taiwan is an inalienable part of China.”
With this approach, the proliferation of channels for media, information and entertainment offers unbounded scope for the party to get its messages across, abetted by commercial operators. The internet has proven a particular boon, since its users are predominantly young, educated males from the cities—just the kind of groups, the party has noted, behind the colour revolutions in Serbia, Georgia and Ukraine. Shaping the online debate while using controls and surveillance to block most of what it does not want surfers to see, the internet is an example of how the party has corralled mainland Chinese into what Ms Brady calls “a virtual mind prison”—though one with plenty of fun and games to keep people entertained. In 2000 Mr Clinton said that trying to control the internet in China was “like trying to nail Jell-O to a wall”. The Communist Party seems to have managed it.
This is little comfort to Westerners projecting their hopes for democratic change on to China. Nor is there any sign that Chinese intellectuals identify with the myriad grievances of their poor countrymen, as they did during the Tiananmen protests. And the growing middle class appears more fearful of the great unwashed than of the depredations of a party that once was at war with the bourgeoisie. So no national movement challenges the party’s monopoly. The state might yet prove unable to meet growing demands for health care and schooling. Leadership splits might threaten the party, as they did in 1989, with China now facing its biggest economic test since then. But for now, the Communist Party glides smoothly upon the tide of history.
--
Ryan Pyle
Photographer
ryan@ryanpyle.com
Website: www.ryanpyle.com
Archive: http://archive.ryanpyle.com
_______________________________________
After spending several exhausting days in rural Tibet I managed to get home in one piece, albeit very sore from the nine days I spent combing through remote river valleys on foot.
Upon my return to Shanghai I was craving news, newspapers and news magazines. I love to know what's going on and I was mostly craving my Economist. I reckon I would have a backlog of two or three issues waiting for me at home and I was more than ready to put my feet up and dive right in.
To my astonishment my Economist magazines were not waiting for me at home. They had failed to show up. This often happens when sensitive China articles are published, but to be honest it hasn't happened in months and I was pretty pissed off by the fact that the post office just decides to put a hold on my magazines when ever it feels like it.
So in a huff I made my way to the grocery store, that I frequent, and managed to get a week old copy, the May 28th to June 4th version that has (in Asia) "Kim's Bombshell" on the cover. Feeling happy after my purchase I brought it home and pushed through the opening sections and devoured each article at a record pace (as you do after a long absence away from any form of reading/writing). I was so quick in fact that I read from Page 30 to Page 33 almost without noticing that Page 31/32 was missing. It had been torn out.
Now, it had been torn out very neatly and in a fashion that didn't disrupt the other articles. But the act itself lead to several questions: Like, how many people in China are employed to rip out magazine articles that are deemed sensitive? No wonder China Post is losing money hand over fist; so much so that DHL and FedEx have now been banned from operating domestically in China - a very protectionist move. Also, who decides what articles are deemed offensive or not? Is this why sometimes my other magazines don't show up? Who is this magazine editing actually targeting, foreigners or Chinese? If it is targeting foreigners, might the effort be seen as futile? If this behavior is directed at Chinese, I would be curious to know how many locals are reading the Economist that are not web savvy enough to know that the week of June 4th was the anniversary of Tiananmen. Is this the behavior of a global power? Is this the behavior of a regional power? Does the United States censor and rip out pages of Chinese language magazines and periodicals? Food for thought.
Now, the page in question "Banyan: The Party Goes On" deals specifically with Tiananmen and the party's survival skills, and it is copied below. Is this article really so piercing and critical that it requires the embarrassment involved in being torn out of the magazine by hand several thousand times? Me thinks not. I would expect behavior like this from Burma, but not China. It's a weak effort from a seemingly strong country. Imagine how the country will progress when we, locals and foreigners, begin being treated like adults; who can actually handle the truth. Could be a magical era, think of all the prison space that could be freed up.
Copywrite: The Economist
Banyan
The party goes on
May 28th 2009
From The Economist print edition
Who, 20 years ago, would have thought that the Communist Party could come to this?
WHEN the tanks departed Beijing after the crackdown of June 1989, no one with an interest in China thought the matter ended. The Chinese Communist Party had won its battle for survival, but the war seemed unwinnable. All the more so after communism collapsed in Eastern Europe later that year, followed by the Soviet Union. Even China’s lunge for breakneck growth from 1992 looked set to accelerate forces the party might not control. As the party’s ideological and moral foundations crumbled, it was no longer clear what on earth it stood for.
China-watchers’ scenarios ran from party collapse to a democratising path. As late as 1998 Bill Clinton was able to tell his Chinese host, President Jiang Zemin, that suppressing dissent put China “on the wrong side of history”. Banyan was in the audience that day, his Flying Pigeon (state-made bicycle) outside. Mr Clinton’s words seemed self-evident. But with hindsight, much of where the West said China was going was wishful thinking.
What nearly no one predicted has transpired. Today, the party is as strong at home as at any time since it seized power in 1949. Though still authoritarian, it rules largely by consent, preferring persuasion to violence and intimidation—though these remain handy, as during the crushing of Tibetan riots last year.
Abroad, its prestige is as high: some believe China’s economy is about to save the world. Mr Jiang’s successor, Hu Jintao, has been welcomed at the top table of world leaders. On her first trip to Beijing as secretary of state, Hillary Clinton was as blunt as her husband had been a decade earlier, but with a different message: the United States would not let China’s human-rights abuses obstruct the history being made between these two great states.
It is a commonplace that the party’s legitimacy is built on economic growth. Yet China’s leaders have long considered that to be merely the (simplistic) half of it. After the massacre, the Communist Party set about transforming itself. It launched a vast historical investigation into how political parties fall, and how they stay in power. Everyone was scrutinised, from Saddam Hussein to Scandinavian social democrats. The conclusion: adapt or die.
The outcome is a wholesale reinvention of the party, a process accelerated after Mr Hu stepped up as paramount leader in 2004. Shortcomings that were identified included corruption (a chief complaint of the Tiananmen students), lack of accountability in decision-making, no convincing ideology, and an ossified structure. In a recent book (“China’s Communist Party: Atrophy and Adaptation”), David Shambaugh describes how the 74m-strong party has fired whole armies of time-servers. Bright technocrats and entrepreneurs have been recruited. Retirement rules have been revamped (the Soviet Union’s gerontocracy was noted). Party members have gone back to school: three weeks a year and three months for every three years of mid-career training. More appointments are open to peer scrutiny before they are filled. The Communist Party is vastly more able to govern.
Some in the wishful West will see this as a proto-democratisation of a Leninist state. The opposite is the case. Staying in power is the party’s only credo now that revolution has been jettisoned. It is the sole reason for revamping the mechanisms of power.
China’s other manufacturing industry
A case in point is the Communists’ approach since 1989 to the crucial field of propaganda. With the end of Maoist mobilisation, the party turned to Western techniques of public relations and mass media, manufacturing consent by guiding public opinion in certain directions while barring it from others. In “Marketing Dictatorship”, Anne-Marie Brady sums up the party’s approach as emphasising achievements, not allowing bad news during holiday periods or around sensitive dates (including June 4th), and not raising problems that can’t be solved (unemployment, inequality). It talks up the economy, regularly demonises the United States and uses Orwellian newspeak to shape the debate about certain subjects (“party-state” is banned in public discourse in favour of “the political party in power”). It presents stories in ways that encourage people to take sides. It turns natural disasters into quasi-religious occasions of national solidarity. And always, always repeat after me: “Taiwan is an inalienable part of China.”
With this approach, the proliferation of channels for media, information and entertainment offers unbounded scope for the party to get its messages across, abetted by commercial operators. The internet has proven a particular boon, since its users are predominantly young, educated males from the cities—just the kind of groups, the party has noted, behind the colour revolutions in Serbia, Georgia and Ukraine. Shaping the online debate while using controls and surveillance to block most of what it does not want surfers to see, the internet is an example of how the party has corralled mainland Chinese into what Ms Brady calls “a virtual mind prison”—though one with plenty of fun and games to keep people entertained. In 2000 Mr Clinton said that trying to control the internet in China was “like trying to nail Jell-O to a wall”. The Communist Party seems to have managed it.
This is little comfort to Westerners projecting their hopes for democratic change on to China. Nor is there any sign that Chinese intellectuals identify with the myriad grievances of their poor countrymen, as they did during the Tiananmen protests. And the growing middle class appears more fearful of the great unwashed than of the depredations of a party that once was at war with the bourgeoisie. So no national movement challenges the party’s monopoly. The state might yet prove unable to meet growing demands for health care and schooling. Leadership splits might threaten the party, as they did in 1989, with China now facing its biggest economic test since then. But for now, the Communist Party glides smoothly upon the tide of history.
--
Ryan Pyle
Photographer
ryan@ryanpyle.com
Website: www.ryanpyle.com
Archive: http://archive.ryanpyle.com
_______________________________________
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