One of my primary motivations for coming to this region is that I know that it is a place were the relations between different ethnic groups of the People's Republic of China (PRC) are not always harmonious. I came here because I am interested in this and because I wanted to see it first hand and I hope to talk with some of the local people about their experiences of it.
Despite my prior knowledge, I was shocked by how quickly these tensions became apparent. On stepping out of the brand new Chinese customs post on the China/Kazakhstan border, there is a 50 metre walk to the outside world. On our side of the gates, a Chinese soldier stood. He looked no more than about 18 years old, he was a full head shorter than me and skinny. In fact, he looked quite comical with his gold badges and hat pulled down to the bridge of his nose, like a child in adult's clothing.
On the other side, a group of some 20 plus men, in the trade mark central Asian attire of leather jackets, shiny shoes and flat caps, stood huddled around the exit, 'TAXI, CHANGE MONEY, TAXI' they yelled in our direction. After the efficient ease of the high-tech Chinese customs point, this was crash back down to reality. Hassle and hustle. As we approached the Chinese soldier, the shouts grew louder and more personalised, 'MR, MR, dovotchka, dovotchka!' Suddenly, two men leapt through the gate and grabbed out at my girlfriend, K. The soldier yelled, the two men retreated. He took our passports and checked the entry stamp. Tightening bag straps and burying our passports deep inside our clothing we edged toward the gate, the crowd outside moved toward us, K stopped. From behind us, suddenly the soldier abandoned his post and went directly for the nearest man. His boot swung and connected with the man's backside.
The man, startled, straightened his body and turned his head, another kick, he grimaced. Another kick. By now the soldier found himself deep into enemy territory, 20 plus dark sets of eyes, in heads much older than his, on bodies probably twice his weight stared at him. The soldier, barking, retreated to his side of the gate.
* * *
Since our explosive entrance, we have had many discussions about what this event says about the relationship between the Uighur people and the Han-dominated Chinese state. K and I both come from western Europe and as a result find it hard to understand the role that violence plays in cultures and societies other than our own. While our countries certainly are not models of peaceful existence, internally at least, state violence is rare. In western Europe, the methods of policing society are largely based on deterrence (the possibility of punishment) rather than the physical assertion of power. Consequently, it is generally unusual to see authorities either openly challenged or using physical violence to assert their authority. Indeed, the need to resort to physical means of coercion would be seen as a loss of control rather than a way of asserting it.
So, once our hearts had slowed down and we were safely in a taxi, it was within this framework that we began to consider what our experience meant. Was it emblematic of the situation between the Uighur and the Han state or merely an isolated incident? If it was reflective, what did it say?
What follows are a series of notions that came up and which may be contradictory and are not exhaustive. Perhaps we spent too much time thinking about an isolated event and tried to read too much into it, but, that's how we are sometimes. I, in particular, tried to use the incident to characterise the 'bigger picture' despite it's apparent smallness. Having covered my bases, though, I do think that some of the reflections we had were valuable. So, with that in mind, here is an idea of the thought processes that went on.
* * *
Firstly, I wanted to understand why the men broke the rules. One possible motivation could be material gain, to persuade us to use whatever service they are providing. However, by creating the tense scenario they did, they certainly did not sell themselves to potential customers. Their behaviour was counter-productive to getting business, assuming that most people, like ourselves, would attempt to escape this hostile environment as soon as possible.
Therefore, I began to think that their actions were intended as a challenge to the legitimacy of the authorities. By breaking the rules and encroaching on the soldiers sovereign space, the Uighur men outside the gate were acting not out of material interest but in order to challenge the soldier's sovereignty, a symbolic attack on the established hierarchy.
The significance of this space is its visibility. The soldier works in a space that is highly visible to foreigners coming into the country. The strength of first impressions makes this a particularly fruitful site for undermining the state and its legitimacy. If the Chinese state wants to play down the narrative of the Uighur and keep it out of the international consciousness, the Uighur people themselves could be seeking to display it in any space they have access to.
Potentially, these actions could be part of a performance for outsiders. While travellers from further afield, such as ourselves, are rare, travellers from Central Asia are common. When we crossed, there were Kazakhs, Uzbek tour groups and Uighurs from outside of China crossing the border. Seeing that these groups are ethnically close to the Uighur, what with their all being Turkic peoples, those Uighur inside China have come to consider them to be some sort of natural allies in their struggles against the Chinese authorities. The Chinese government has used its economic and political clout to neutralise this potential alliance by engaging Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan and Uzbekistan in the Shanghai Five treaty organisation. Through a mixture of incentives and threats, these governments have been persuaded to co-operate in the clamp down on Uighur challenges to the Chinese state. Yet while governments are actively undermining the Uighur cause, there is still something to fight for – public opinion.
Therefore, I thought that perhaps the Uighur at the gate wanted to do two things, first to draw attention to their cause and second to show that they are not beaten but still fighting. Choosing the international platform of a border post could convey the message:
“You all have your own 'stans, we want ours too. Kinspeople, why aren't you helping us?”
It may be a little far fetched to read so much into the incident, but I do think the sentiment exists. On a bus journey across the mountains, the driver, a Uighur, on hearing that we had come through central Asia asked me, 'Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, but where is Uighurstan?' A comparison through which the Uighurs can articulate their claim.
* * *
While the image of resistance is powerful, another contradictory image consistently came to mind. The only difference between the 20 plus men outside the gate and the scrawny-looking 18 year old inside it, was a uniform. Despite the young solider being heavily outnumbered and physically inferior to his counterparts, nobody dared to respond to his physical aggression. While the rejection of authority existed, there was clearly a line that would not be crossed: another aspect of the Uighur / state relationship?
While the Uighurs may strive to struggle in the small spaces that are available to them, there is an understanding that a limit exists and that the repercussions of exceeding it are more than they are were willing to risk.
The uniform is not just a young boy but a whole system that wields immense power over people's lives. An act of aggression toward the young soldier would be conceived of in the severest of terms and the possibility of this punishment is reason enough for restraint.
In the past, the Chinese government has descended down ruthlessly on the Uighurs, and the Uighurs are painfully aware of this. Any dissent, regardless of scale, motivation or cause, is liable to be understood by the punitive system in the strongest of terms. For example, in Baren village near Kashgar in 1999, a protest that local people claim was about government restrictions on mosque building was attributed by the government to foreign agitators and religious fundamentalism. In 1997 in Kulja, riots, attributed by the government to 'splittists', were, according to local people, concerned with securing the release of imprisoned religious leaders and lack of employment opportunities for Uighurs.
When talking to a Han Chinese woman about her childhood in Xinjiang, she referred to 'trouble' with the Uighur as a child. When pushed on what this 'troubles' was, she admitted that it was most often a result Uighur objection to local government actions. In its relations with the Uighur population, the Chinese government seems keener to throw around accusations of treason rather than address the more tangible reasons for discontent. Under an ideological state, such as communist China, challenging the state is easily construed as attacking its very existence. Consequently, the punishments are the severest, and numerous Uighurs have fallen foul of such ideological acrobatics.
So, if we think of the small space between Kazakhstan and China as a stage for Uighurs to put themselves on display, then we should also think about what it means to the Chinese state and its soldier. The flippant encroachment of his sovereignty is clearly not the image he would like outsiders to see not being punished. Whereas from a western European perspective, resorting to violence is seen as a loss of control, in the culture of the Chinese state, I think violence plays a different role.
An example to illustrate:
On a previous visit to the PRC 5 years ago, I was walking down a street in Beijing when I saw two policeman coming out of an expensive hotel, following a young man, who was handcuffed. This young man was wearing a hotel worker's uniform, I assumed the crime was no more serious than theft given the relatively relaxed way the policeman behaved. The situation seemed calm, the arrested boy didn't struggle, the policeman chatted between themselves, paying only the necessary attention to their charge. However, after the trio had made their way out onto the pavement, things changed. First, one policeman forced the boy to kneel then, they flung him forward, causing him to fall face-first onto the concrete. The other policeman then put his heavy boot on the back of the boy's head and proceeded to squeeze his face into the concrete. What struck me though, was that despite this sudden increase of violence, the attitude of the trio remained the same, the criminal was subdued and the police nonchalant.
As the young man was already restrained and was passively accepting his fate, the use of violence seemed excessive to the point of absurdity. What could be gained from behaving in this way? It was only later, on refection, that I could make sense of what I had seen. The violence used by the police was not intended for its receiver. It was neither for restraint nor vengeance. The violence was for the consumption of a third party – the audience who had assembled to see what was happening. The attitude of the policemen suddenly changed because they were in public. By exercising their complete domination over the boy, the police were reinforcing the hierarchy of authority in society as a whole.
In these terms, the soldier's behaviour at the border becomes more understandable. It was precisely the presence of third parties that was the motivation for the soldier to perform. By using violence that he knew would not be reciprocated, he displayed to us the power of his uniform. He, a single individual, could not only restrain his opponents, but was in fact able to inflict humiliation upon them at will, knowing they were powerless to stop him. With a few quick swings of his leg, he made a definitive statement about his ascendancy and, accordingly, about the Uighur's inferiority.
* * *
By now, you may think that I have thought far too much about an event that lasted for just a few seconds, and you're probably right. Because I came here to look for manifestations of social inequity and disharmony, I am liable to see it wherever I look. Here, I have taken one small incident and tried to turn it into a metaphor for something much bigger than it is and maybe, as a result, read too much into it.
However, while the situation I described may not be as meaningful as I made it to be, I do think it provides a glimpse into some elements of life here. Clearly, tensions exists. They exist between the state and between its subjects. To a large extent, these tension are delineated along ethnic lines, in which a state dominated by Han Chinese comes to be reacted against by those who feel disgruntled with its hegemony: the Uighur.
Despite my prior knowledge, I was shocked by how quickly these tensions became apparent. On stepping out of the brand new Chinese customs post on the China/Kazakhstan border, there is a 50 metre walk to the outside world. On our side of the gates, a Chinese soldier stood. He looked no more than about 18 years old, he was a full head shorter than me and skinny. In fact, he looked quite comical with his gold badges and hat pulled down to the bridge of his nose, like a child in adult's clothing.
On the other side, a group of some 20 plus men, in the trade mark central Asian attire of leather jackets, shiny shoes and flat caps, stood huddled around the exit, 'TAXI, CHANGE MONEY, TAXI' they yelled in our direction. After the efficient ease of the high-tech Chinese customs point, this was crash back down to reality. Hassle and hustle. As we approached the Chinese soldier, the shouts grew louder and more personalised, 'MR, MR, dovotchka, dovotchka!' Suddenly, two men leapt through the gate and grabbed out at my girlfriend, K. The soldier yelled, the two men retreated. He took our passports and checked the entry stamp. Tightening bag straps and burying our passports deep inside our clothing we edged toward the gate, the crowd outside moved toward us, K stopped. From behind us, suddenly the soldier abandoned his post and went directly for the nearest man. His boot swung and connected with the man's backside.
The man, startled, straightened his body and turned his head, another kick, he grimaced. Another kick. By now the soldier found himself deep into enemy territory, 20 plus dark sets of eyes, in heads much older than his, on bodies probably twice his weight stared at him. The soldier, barking, retreated to his side of the gate.
* * *
Since our explosive entrance, we have had many discussions about what this event says about the relationship between the Uighur people and the Han-dominated Chinese state. K and I both come from western Europe and as a result find it hard to understand the role that violence plays in cultures and societies other than our own. While our countries certainly are not models of peaceful existence, internally at least, state violence is rare. In western Europe, the methods of policing society are largely based on deterrence (the possibility of punishment) rather than the physical assertion of power. Consequently, it is generally unusual to see authorities either openly challenged or using physical violence to assert their authority. Indeed, the need to resort to physical means of coercion would be seen as a loss of control rather than a way of asserting it.
So, once our hearts had slowed down and we were safely in a taxi, it was within this framework that we began to consider what our experience meant. Was it emblematic of the situation between the Uighur and the Han state or merely an isolated incident? If it was reflective, what did it say?
What follows are a series of notions that came up and which may be contradictory and are not exhaustive. Perhaps we spent too much time thinking about an isolated event and tried to read too much into it, but, that's how we are sometimes. I, in particular, tried to use the incident to characterise the 'bigger picture' despite it's apparent smallness. Having covered my bases, though, I do think that some of the reflections we had were valuable. So, with that in mind, here is an idea of the thought processes that went on.
* * *
Firstly, I wanted to understand why the men broke the rules. One possible motivation could be material gain, to persuade us to use whatever service they are providing. However, by creating the tense scenario they did, they certainly did not sell themselves to potential customers. Their behaviour was counter-productive to getting business, assuming that most people, like ourselves, would attempt to escape this hostile environment as soon as possible.
Therefore, I began to think that their actions were intended as a challenge to the legitimacy of the authorities. By breaking the rules and encroaching on the soldiers sovereign space, the Uighur men outside the gate were acting not out of material interest but in order to challenge the soldier's sovereignty, a symbolic attack on the established hierarchy.
The significance of this space is its visibility. The soldier works in a space that is highly visible to foreigners coming into the country. The strength of first impressions makes this a particularly fruitful site for undermining the state and its legitimacy. If the Chinese state wants to play down the narrative of the Uighur and keep it out of the international consciousness, the Uighur people themselves could be seeking to display it in any space they have access to.
Potentially, these actions could be part of a performance for outsiders. While travellers from further afield, such as ourselves, are rare, travellers from Central Asia are common. When we crossed, there were Kazakhs, Uzbek tour groups and Uighurs from outside of China crossing the border. Seeing that these groups are ethnically close to the Uighur, what with their all being Turkic peoples, those Uighur inside China have come to consider them to be some sort of natural allies in their struggles against the Chinese authorities. The Chinese government has used its economic and political clout to neutralise this potential alliance by engaging Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan and Uzbekistan in the Shanghai Five treaty organisation. Through a mixture of incentives and threats, these governments have been persuaded to co-operate in the clamp down on Uighur challenges to the Chinese state. Yet while governments are actively undermining the Uighur cause, there is still something to fight for – public opinion.
Therefore, I thought that perhaps the Uighur at the gate wanted to do two things, first to draw attention to their cause and second to show that they are not beaten but still fighting. Choosing the international platform of a border post could convey the message:
“You all have your own 'stans, we want ours too. Kinspeople, why aren't you helping us?”
It may be a little far fetched to read so much into the incident, but I do think the sentiment exists. On a bus journey across the mountains, the driver, a Uighur, on hearing that we had come through central Asia asked me, 'Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, but where is Uighurstan?' A comparison through which the Uighurs can articulate their claim.
* * *
While the image of resistance is powerful, another contradictory image consistently came to mind. The only difference between the 20 plus men outside the gate and the scrawny-looking 18 year old inside it, was a uniform. Despite the young solider being heavily outnumbered and physically inferior to his counterparts, nobody dared to respond to his physical aggression. While the rejection of authority existed, there was clearly a line that would not be crossed: another aspect of the Uighur / state relationship?
While the Uighurs may strive to struggle in the small spaces that are available to them, there is an understanding that a limit exists and that the repercussions of exceeding it are more than they are were willing to risk.
The uniform is not just a young boy but a whole system that wields immense power over people's lives. An act of aggression toward the young soldier would be conceived of in the severest of terms and the possibility of this punishment is reason enough for restraint.
In the past, the Chinese government has descended down ruthlessly on the Uighurs, and the Uighurs are painfully aware of this. Any dissent, regardless of scale, motivation or cause, is liable to be understood by the punitive system in the strongest of terms. For example, in Baren village near Kashgar in 1999, a protest that local people claim was about government restrictions on mosque building was attributed by the government to foreign agitators and religious fundamentalism. In 1997 in Kulja, riots, attributed by the government to 'splittists', were, according to local people, concerned with securing the release of imprisoned religious leaders and lack of employment opportunities for Uighurs.
When talking to a Han Chinese woman about her childhood in Xinjiang, she referred to 'trouble' with the Uighur as a child. When pushed on what this 'troubles' was, she admitted that it was most often a result Uighur objection to local government actions. In its relations with the Uighur population, the Chinese government seems keener to throw around accusations of treason rather than address the more tangible reasons for discontent. Under an ideological state, such as communist China, challenging the state is easily construed as attacking its very existence. Consequently, the punishments are the severest, and numerous Uighurs have fallen foul of such ideological acrobatics.
So, if we think of the small space between Kazakhstan and China as a stage for Uighurs to put themselves on display, then we should also think about what it means to the Chinese state and its soldier. The flippant encroachment of his sovereignty is clearly not the image he would like outsiders to see not being punished. Whereas from a western European perspective, resorting to violence is seen as a loss of control, in the culture of the Chinese state, I think violence plays a different role.
An example to illustrate:
On a previous visit to the PRC 5 years ago, I was walking down a street in Beijing when I saw two policeman coming out of an expensive hotel, following a young man, who was handcuffed. This young man was wearing a hotel worker's uniform, I assumed the crime was no more serious than theft given the relatively relaxed way the policeman behaved. The situation seemed calm, the arrested boy didn't struggle, the policeman chatted between themselves, paying only the necessary attention to their charge. However, after the trio had made their way out onto the pavement, things changed. First, one policeman forced the boy to kneel then, they flung him forward, causing him to fall face-first onto the concrete. The other policeman then put his heavy boot on the back of the boy's head and proceeded to squeeze his face into the concrete. What struck me though, was that despite this sudden increase of violence, the attitude of the trio remained the same, the criminal was subdued and the police nonchalant.
As the young man was already restrained and was passively accepting his fate, the use of violence seemed excessive to the point of absurdity. What could be gained from behaving in this way? It was only later, on refection, that I could make sense of what I had seen. The violence used by the police was not intended for its receiver. It was neither for restraint nor vengeance. The violence was for the consumption of a third party – the audience who had assembled to see what was happening. The attitude of the policemen suddenly changed because they were in public. By exercising their complete domination over the boy, the police were reinforcing the hierarchy of authority in society as a whole.
In these terms, the soldier's behaviour at the border becomes more understandable. It was precisely the presence of third parties that was the motivation for the soldier to perform. By using violence that he knew would not be reciprocated, he displayed to us the power of his uniform. He, a single individual, could not only restrain his opponents, but was in fact able to inflict humiliation upon them at will, knowing they were powerless to stop him. With a few quick swings of his leg, he made a definitive statement about his ascendancy and, accordingly, about the Uighur's inferiority.
* * *
By now, you may think that I have thought far too much about an event that lasted for just a few seconds, and you're probably right. Because I came here to look for manifestations of social inequity and disharmony, I am liable to see it wherever I look. Here, I have taken one small incident and tried to turn it into a metaphor for something much bigger than it is and maybe, as a result, read too much into it.
However, while the situation I described may not be as meaningful as I made it to be, I do think it provides a glimpse into some elements of life here. Clearly, tensions exists. They exist between the state and between its subjects. To a large extent, these tension are delineated along ethnic lines, in which a state dominated by Han Chinese comes to be reacted against by those who feel disgruntled with its hegemony: the Uighur.
4 comments:
Interesting thesis Jimmy.
If the displays of violence are for an audience, does this mean they are encouraged by the government/ police/ army? Or is it a case of individual soldiers acting autonomously and in a way they deem to be 'appropriate' to their role?
What you describe seems to be another form of the Western approach of using the threat of punishment as a deterrent to others, by putting that punishment on public display. Perhaps violence is more necessary there because in the 'West' the loss of social status or the material disadvantage that results from punishment is sufficiently alarming to people? Maybe certain groups of people there have nothing to lose except their teeth.
Lastly, didn't the soldier have a gun?
Pete,
Thanks for the comments. Good to know someone reads it.
I'm not sure that encouraged is the right word really, more like it is part of the job description. I think within the Chinese state apparatus, there is a belief that in order for the 'authorities' to maintain their authority, they need to be seen displaying it. Use it or lose it, kind of thing. Without the regular displays of domination, they feel they will lose their iron grip over the people they are policing.
While I agree that the threat of punishment exists in both China and western Europe, I think its the method by which the threat is exercised that differs. In western Europe, in general, there is less of a tendency to display force. In western Europe resorting to force is seen as a loss of control, whereas in China I believe it is an assertion of control.
As for having less to lose, I'm not sure if that is true. It's true they have less economical advantages, but this doesn't mean they are all ready to risk themselves for nothing. For starters, given that people marry younger, most of those guys probably had a wife, possibly a child or two (the Uighur are allowed two / three under the birth control system), and an extended family to think of. They perhaps have even more to lose as justice has often been handed out by the Chinese government on a collective rather than individual basis. Families are held responsible for the actions of their members.
As to the gun, i don't think he had one on him but there were certainly guns around if he needed them. I think that is part of it, there is an invisible red-line and the Uighur know not to cross it. The repercussions aren't worth it. Its the little bit of space before that line they are most interested in.
I don't know how it compares, but when I visited Palestine it seemed there was a whole generation of men who had spent time in prison as a result of activism. This was seen as inevitable, and the extended networks of family and friends were there to support 'prison widows' and their children.
Hey - interesting blog. Just a few observations - first one being, although the altercation you saw on the border was between a Han and a minority, was there anything particular about that interaction that makes it a reflection of Han-minority relations in China? I ask this because police brutality against rule-bending merchants doesn't seem to be a particularly ethnic thing; I guess I'm saying this is just as likely to happen between a Han authority and a Han vendor as well, just depending where you are in China. Also, I'm curious if there's anything specific that made you certain they were Uyghurs - if you guys came in from Kazakhstan you were in northern Xinjiang where the likelihood of a person of Turk appearance being of a different ethnicity is far higher.
Post a Comment