A NEW ‘SHINING’ KASHGAR
The
Kashgar railway station is a potent symbol of Chinese subjugation in an
already beleaguered Xinjiang. The glistening, marble-clad monolith at the end
of a sumptuous two-lane highway in the outskirts of the city, is another sign
for the so-called ‘minority’ race that the end is near for their
predominance in this remote homeland. Completed only last year, the rail link
between the capital Urumqi and this strategic southern Uyghur city, is another
nail in the coffin of their hopes for independence and signifies the
determined Chinese commitment to swamping southern Xinjiang with the Han
majority population.
As part of a plan to settle more than 55 million Han in Xinjiang over
the next 25 years and to promote a ‘Go West’ mentality, China pushed ahead
with one of its most ambitious railway projects yet, in order, many feel, to
ship in record numbers of Han to swell the already mushrooming community and
to open up one of the most remote corners of China. A three-day bus ride used
to be the norm for anyone determined enough to make the 1500-plus kilometer
Urumqi-Kashgar pilgrimage. Sleeper buses have halved this to 36
bone-displacing hours, but the brand new double-decker train has
revolutionized the journey in terms of both comfort and speed and hundreds of
Han Chinese make the trip every day in a pain-free 24 hours.
The terminal itself speaks volumes
for Han intentions in the area. Designed for a majority Chinese clientele;
Chinese kiosks, Chinese signs and Chinese staff predominate. One Uyghur
restaurant hidden in a far corner of a 40-strong Chinese cafe-complex, exists
as a sop to the eating preferences of Uyghurs who refuse to eat with the
Chinese. But in fact Uyghur faces are a rare commodity on the trains. Most
cannot afford the luxury of train travel and prefer to haggle on the
bus. The train, hot off the Chinese press, with Chinese signs, Chinese staff , 24
hour piped Chinese music, Chinese announcements and Chinese food, is not for
the likes of the average Uyghur citizen. ‘These trains are for Chinese and
foreign tourists,’ said Ibrahim, an Uyghur tour guide. ‘The Chinese are
the rich ones round here. Our people like to negotiate a fare but there’s no
negotiation on the train. The only Uyghurs you find at the station are touts
buying up tickets to re-sell-but even that’s being knocked on the head by
the Chinese authorities.’
The stunning ride cuts a swathe through the edge of the Tienshan mountain
range on one side and the Taklamakan, one of the world’s cruelest deserts,
on the other. Plagued by sand storms, ferocious winds and frequent
derailments, the payoff for the Chinese can be measured in terms of the
dramatic changes already taking place in the landscape of Kashgar, one of the
former silk-road trading posts. Fifteen years ago, Chinese faces were a rarity
in this Muslim city. Low, mud-walled houses lined narrow, un-paved streets
along which streams of donkey carts clattered, driven by small boys in peaked
caps. Life in the ancient city spilled out onto the sidewalks as people plied
their centuries old crafts. Kashgar was home for the Uyghur people.
A big push during the past five years, accelerated since the arrival of the
train last year, has meant Han population arriving in droves to settle in a
now flourishing Chinese community. Vast tracts of the old city have been
bulldozed for two-lane highways which are now bordered by Hong-Kong style
high-rise developments. Artists’ impressions of 21st-century Kashgar
decorate street hoardings and many Uyghurs are worried by rumors that the
entire old city is earmarked for destruction. ‘They say our houses are
unsafe and by re-housing us all they are doing us a favour,’ said Uyghur
teacher Rahim Mahmudov. ‘But our houses have withstood many tests for
centuries and their construction is perfect for our conditions. Their real
motive is to break up our strong bonds and to scatter us. We don’t trust
them,’ he added bitterly. Wide
roads now separate parts of the old city, carving up the tightly knit
communities and mowing down traditional housing. The latest assault on the
community since the railway station road destroyed a Uyghur village, has been
the destruction of a chunk of the city wall to make way for a giant Ferris
wheel which now dominates the skyline. ‘No one knows where it will stop,’
said Rahim. ‘We listen to the rumors, see the evidence and are afraid for
our people.’ ‘You cannot say you have seen the Silk Road until you have
visited Kashgar,’ trumpets a Technicolor billboard teetering on the edge of
a new Chinese roundabout where old houses used to stand. ‘Kashgar has taken
on a new look. Silk Load (sic) is even more shining,’ boasts another.
But few tourists would fight to visit a ‘shining’ Kashgar and the Uyghur
people themselves are bitter and terrified about the changes taking place
before their eyes. Kashgar has seen turmoil and political intrigue in its
lifetime, and its history is peppered with assaults of every description. Few,
however, can have been more destructive or more far-reaching than the assault
it is experiencing today. And from this assault it seems, there will be no
turning back.
By
Ruth Ingram
