Hugo Restall: China's Public Enemy
[Mr. Restall is the editor of the Far Eastern Economic Review and a member of the editorial board of The Wall Street Journal.]
R ebiya Kadeer is undergoing a Chinese version of George Orwell’s “Two Minutes Hate.” Separatist, extremist, terrorist—China’s state-run media has pulled out the rhetorical big guns to put her beyond the pale of civilized society. By condemning her as the mastermind of last month’s riots that killed 197 people in the northwest region of Xinjiang, Beijing has transformed an exiled businesswoman and dissident into public enemy No. 1 for 1.3 billion people.
Even Ms. Kadeer’s family in China has joined the campaign—under duress, she says. After blaming her for the loss of innocent lives, several of her children and other relatives exhorted her in an open letter, “Don’t destroy the stable and happy life in Xinjiang. Don’t follow the provocation from some people in other countries.” In scenes reminiscent of the Cultural Revolution, the signatories have appeared on state television to publicly disavow Ms. Kadeer.
This blood-stained image is hard to reconcile with the diminutive grandmother, dressed modestly in black, who bustles about a cramped, U.S. government-funded office a block from the White House. Ms. Kadeer may be hated by many Chinese, but the president of the World Uighur Congress inspires admiration among the nine million ethnically Turkish Uighurs in Xinjiang and two million-strong diaspora. An indication of why she inspires such strong emotions comes as she responds to the first question; she speaks with a startling intensity, perching on the edge of a folding chair.
First of all, Ms. Kadeer denies she instigated the July 5 protests in her home town of Urumqi: “I did not tell them to come out on that day or that particular time to protest. It was the six decade-long repression that has driven them to protest.”
Ms. Kadeer’s own life is a graphic illustration of that repression’s ebb and flow. In the 1980s and early ’90s, she and her fellow Uighurs benefited from Deng Xiaoping’s loosening of controls in all areas of life. Like business pioneers around the country, she overcame obstacles created by Chinese officialdom to build a market stall into a business empire encompassing retail, real estate and international trade.
Just as difficult was overcoming the Uighur community’s resistance to the idea of a woman taking the lead. Ms. Kadeer’s nickname was djahangir, a word of Persian origin meaning one who pushes forward regardless of the consequences.
The Uighurs are a fiercely independent people who have eked out a living in the arid Central Asian lands along ancient caravan routes and converted to Islam in the 15th century. During the Qing dynasty (1644-1912), China’s Manchu rulers managed to subjugate the Uighurs and other local tribes but had to fight off periodic revolts. After the collapse of the empire, the region briefly became the East Turkestan Republic before falling under the thumb of Mao’s People’s Republic. Many Uighurs still harbor dreams of eventual independence.
Once Ms. Kadeer succeeded in business, both the Communist Party and the Uighurs embraced her as a leader. In the mid-1990s she became China’s fifth richest person, and the party gave her a seat in the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference, part of the country’s rubber-stamp legislature.
But the tide was already turning against the Uighurs and other minorities. New policies and appointees from Beijing led to campaigns to assimilate the Uighurs and root out all dissent. That prompted Ms. Kadeer to make a fateful choice about where her true loyalties lay. She became increasingly outspoken about policies preventing Uighurs from sharing in the fruits of economic development. Finally, in March 1997, she gave an impassioned speech before the legislature enumerating the burdens faced by her people...
Read entire article at The Wall Street Journal
R ebiya Kadeer is undergoing a Chinese version of George Orwell’s “Two Minutes Hate.” Separatist, extremist, terrorist—China’s state-run media has pulled out the rhetorical big guns to put her beyond the pale of civilized society. By condemning her as the mastermind of last month’s riots that killed 197 people in the northwest region of Xinjiang, Beijing has transformed an exiled businesswoman and dissident into public enemy No. 1 for 1.3 billion people.
Even Ms. Kadeer’s family in China has joined the campaign—under duress, she says. After blaming her for the loss of innocent lives, several of her children and other relatives exhorted her in an open letter, “Don’t destroy the stable and happy life in Xinjiang. Don’t follow the provocation from some people in other countries.” In scenes reminiscent of the Cultural Revolution, the signatories have appeared on state television to publicly disavow Ms. Kadeer.
This blood-stained image is hard to reconcile with the diminutive grandmother, dressed modestly in black, who bustles about a cramped, U.S. government-funded office a block from the White House. Ms. Kadeer may be hated by many Chinese, but the president of the World Uighur Congress inspires admiration among the nine million ethnically Turkish Uighurs in Xinjiang and two million-strong diaspora. An indication of why she inspires such strong emotions comes as she responds to the first question; she speaks with a startling intensity, perching on the edge of a folding chair.
First of all, Ms. Kadeer denies she instigated the July 5 protests in her home town of Urumqi: “I did not tell them to come out on that day or that particular time to protest. It was the six decade-long repression that has driven them to protest.”
Ms. Kadeer’s own life is a graphic illustration of that repression’s ebb and flow. In the 1980s and early ’90s, she and her fellow Uighurs benefited from Deng Xiaoping’s loosening of controls in all areas of life. Like business pioneers around the country, she overcame obstacles created by Chinese officialdom to build a market stall into a business empire encompassing retail, real estate and international trade.
Just as difficult was overcoming the Uighur community’s resistance to the idea of a woman taking the lead. Ms. Kadeer’s nickname was djahangir, a word of Persian origin meaning one who pushes forward regardless of the consequences.
The Uighurs are a fiercely independent people who have eked out a living in the arid Central Asian lands along ancient caravan routes and converted to Islam in the 15th century. During the Qing dynasty (1644-1912), China’s Manchu rulers managed to subjugate the Uighurs and other local tribes but had to fight off periodic revolts. After the collapse of the empire, the region briefly became the East Turkestan Republic before falling under the thumb of Mao’s People’s Republic. Many Uighurs still harbor dreams of eventual independence.
Once Ms. Kadeer succeeded in business, both the Communist Party and the Uighurs embraced her as a leader. In the mid-1990s she became China’s fifth richest person, and the party gave her a seat in the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference, part of the country’s rubber-stamp legislature.
But the tide was already turning against the Uighurs and other minorities. New policies and appointees from Beijing led to campaigns to assimilate the Uighurs and root out all dissent. That prompted Ms. Kadeer to make a fateful choice about where her true loyalties lay. She became increasingly outspoken about policies preventing Uighurs from sharing in the fruits of economic development. Finally, in March 1997, she gave an impassioned speech before the legislature enumerating the burdens faced by her people...