Military authorities took nearly 90 foreign journalists on a tour of a People’s Liberation Army (PLA) division north of Beijing yesterday, a move they see as a reflection of the troops’ increasing openness to the outside world.

 

With 2.3 million servicemen and women, the most anywhere in the world, the PLA has in recent years stepped up its policy of opening up along with the rest of China, according to military officials.

 

Yesterday’s visit attracted a total of 86 reporters from 60 media outlets outside the Chinese mainland to the army’s Third Guard Division, a motorized infantry force that safeguards the nation’s capital. Another 17 domestic journalists also joined the group.

 

The journalists took a tour of soldiers’ dormitories, viewed a counterterrorism exercise involving a hijacked bus, watched target practice involving automatic weapons and rocket launchers, and were allowed to briefly interview soldiers on site at their free will.

 

The soldiers said they did “nothing in particular” to prepare for the press visit, and were not given instructions on what or what not to say.

 

Jia Dongsheng, a second class NCO in his seventh year with the military, was not shy in saying he wants to go home to Anhui province next year.

 

“When I was younger I always wanted to become a soldier… I’ve learned all sorts of stuff here in the military. I can use them to my advantage later,” the 26-year-old said, standing straight as a sword.

 

The tour was organized by the Ministry of Defence (MND) and attended by officials from the Foreign Ministry. The ministries’ spokespeople – Senior Colonel Hu Changming from the MND and Jiang Yu with the foreign ministry – were also present but did not officially respond to any questions.

 

The MND is reportedly preparing to launch its official website but Hu, the ministry’s first-ever spokesperson, would not confirm the launch date.

 

“China is more and more open to the outside world, and so is the People’s Liberation Army, and we are actively speeding up our opening process,” said Senior Colonel Leng Jiesong, the division’s chief.

 

The visit comes ahead of both Aug 1, the 82^nd anniversary of the founding of the PLA, and the grand National Day parade on Oct 1 to celebrate the 60^th anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic of China.

 

The division is offering instructors for infantry involved in the National Day parade, Leng said.

 

At the most grassroots level in any society, impoverished, uneducated women are most vulnerable to religious extremism. Xinjiang is no different. Across the region, young Uygur mothers increasingly instigated by fundamentalist Islam have become a growing pain for officials and residents alike.

 

The Xinjiang Women’s Federation plays a leading role in improving females’ rights within the autonomous region, which it says in turn will, in the long run, result in solid social stability.

 

“Mothers are at the core of family education, which is itself the core of education in general. And it is only through education that the trend of religious fundamentalism can be averted,” said Belikiz Imin, a most experienced community lecturer with the federation.

 

But there can be no rush in education, she said, because “the challenges are real, and overcoming them needs time”.

 

Police sources say Xinjiang’s riots and demonstrations in recent years have witnessed a drastic increase in the number of Uygur female participants. In an extreme case, Uygur women made up 70 percent of the total demonstrators in a massive rally in Hotan on March 23 of last year. 

 

Most of the women were used by hostile forces, police say. Many were instigated to take part in the rally by Izbot Taxkilati, a politically motivated international terrorist organization, without any knowledge of its nature, according to an anonymous police officer.

 

Izbot Taxkilati, or the Islamic Liberation Party, was founded in Palestine in 1952 with jihad as its top mandate. Outlawed in all Arab, central Asian countries and Russia, the organization infiltrated into Xinjiang in 1999 and gradually developed a powerful presence. Its China headquarters are in Urumqi, Xinjiang’s capital and site of the July 5 riot.

 

“It’s a common belief among rural Uygur women that being faithful this life will secure them one a seat in heaven,” the police source said. “Extremists have conveniently used that to their advantage: they decide what’s faithful and what’s not.”

 

Belikiz, who spends half of each year in southern parts of Xinjiang researching on religious trends through door-to-door interviews and neighborhood seminars, believes early marriage lies at the heart of the issue.

 

“Early marriage is the first step to extremist activities for most Uygur women involved,” said Belikiz, 40. “Many girls in rural areas become victims of illegal, arranged marriages at the age of 13 or 14.”

 

Premature marriage leads to a myriad of problems. “When the girls get married, they quit school. And more often than not, they stay home and give births to at least four to five children. A majority of these mothers can’t provide even the most basic living conditions for their babies,” Belikiz said.

 

“And with very limited education, a poor background, a handful of pre-school children and plenty of time to kill, radical Islam becomes a natural outlet for the young mothers to make sense of themselves and the world around them.”

 

Belikiz, in her 20^th year with the Women’s Federation, says she has seen many cases where 18-year-old rural mothers who faithfully follow Izbot Taxkilati “look so painfully dull, they don’t even look like real people”.

 

To stop early marriage, Belikiz calls for Uygur women to stop wearing burqa, the head-to-toe Muslim garment. Intelligence sources have related Uygur women wearing the imported veils on the streets of Urumqi before the July 5 as possible organizers of the riot later that evening.

 

“Burqa is not indigenous to Uygur culture. Uygur girls love to show off their beauty. We wear Uygur caps, surma (a traditional ceremonial dye) and colorful dresses and have pigtails right down the waist. We just aren’t like them (Muslim girls overseas who wear burqa),” she said.

 

But wearing burqa is becoming a trend in Urumqi, according to officials. “Those wearing burqa in Xinjiang do so either because of obsolete religious customs or under the influence of husbands and family,” said Kurax Abdullah, deputy chairperson of the women’s federation.

 

“The wives of local religious figures who made pilgrimages to Mecca, too, may wear burqa when they go out,” Kurax added.

 

Some Uygur men’s rationale for asking their wives to wear burqa, according to Belikiz, is the still heavily sexist culture in rural Xinjiang. “The men treat their wives as personal assets not meant for others to see,” she said.

 

“We once ran into a blind man in rural Hotan who forced his wife to wear burqa. We asked why. He said if he couldn’t see his own wife, then nobody else should be able to do it either.”

 

While wearing burqa is an effective way for people to “conceal who they really are” in cities like Urumqi, the practice works to hide the bride’s age at weddings in rural Xinjiang, Belikiz said.

 

“In many remote areas, imams or mullahs (Islamic religious leaders) are still the de facto ruling force. It is they, not the government, who certify marriages and divorces. And with the bride’s face and body all covered, one can never know how old she really is – she may well be just 13 or 14,” she said.

 

It is not just wives who suffer from ultra-religious customs, Belikiz said. According to local traditions, a Uygur husband must divorce his wife should he ever say “uq talak” to her. However long the couple may have lived together, their divorce is settled as soon as the sentence comes up. The duo can only get back together after the wife marries – and divorces – another.

 

“Since the remarriage ceremony must be held by mullahs, in most cases, it is the mullahs who end up ‘marrying’ these women for a few weeks or months. In other words, “uq talak” is what these immoral mullahs use to their own, evil ends,” Belikiz said, adding that even now, “uq talak” is widely influential across some rural regions of southern Xinjiang.

 

Customs and trends like those, the government claims, are the very reasons behind organized migrant work to places outside Xinjiang. “We want to promote healthy social change first and foremost through these young Uygur girls and mothers, who are essential in maintaining harmony within the family, which is the very basis of a harmonious society,” Kurax said.

 

“We want them to have a future of their own, instead of leaving them at the hands of hostile, extremist forces,” Belikiz added.

 

“I believe the hearts of even the most radical extremists aren’t made of iron. They won’t stay unchanged forever. There will be ways through which we can lead them to become better human beings. The key is how we work on it.”  

Home, read a shabby rural house where her parents and three siblings take long-term shelter, wasn’t so much a safe haven as many outside of Xinjiang would fantasize, especially for a young, desperate mother like Tukiz. With only a junior high school diploma, she, like most other local women on the peripheries of life and longing for a new start, was among the top candidates for Izbot Taxkilati, an infamous international terrorist organization that developed an underground presence throughout Xinjiang in recent years.

 

But officials in Bulaksu’s superior Shufu county, who were just about to organize a historic migrant labor delegation to work in other parts of China, got to her first and convinced her parents to send their oldest daughter away for what was promised to be a new, brighter future.

 

That’s how she bounced back, recalled Tukiz, now 26, in her new house, built with the money she earned after three years of work making rubber gloves in a factory with dozens of other Uygur girls in Tianjin municipality.

 

“It’s always been my dream to open a clothing store in Shufu. And with the close attention I paid to the colors and styles of clothes in Tianjin, I think I’m ready for it mentally,” she said.

 

Financially, too, Tukiz is ready. With the 30,000 yuan ($4,390) she saved from work, the Muslim woman has already helped built three houses, bought 15 sheep and two cows for the family and a motorbike for her brother.

 

Juma Kasim, her father, takes great pride in Tukiz’s years in Tianjin, where he stayed for 20 days on a free, government-arranged visit for parents of migrant Uygur workers last August. “She is no normal Uygur woman,” proclaimed the father, all the while insisting that her not open a store because “women aren’t supposed to show their faces”.

 

But at the same time, Juma, 72, is soberly aware of just how determined his daughter has always been. “Tukiz was late for signup. They already had too many people. So she paid for her own train ticket to Tianjin,” he recalled.

 

About 98 percent of Shufu’s 317,000 residents are Uygurs. The omnipresent Gobi desert has made irrigation a mission impossible in local fields. Industries, on the other hand, were rarely even heard of. For decades, prosperity seemed a world away.

 

Starting 2003, years after migrant workers became the driving force of China’s economic miracle, the government in Shufu followed the lead by sending their youths away to other parts of Xinjiang.

 

Nurimagul Ahat, deputy director of Shufu’s migrant labor affairs office, attributes the late start to the heavy influence of religious conservatism across southern regions of Xinjiang, where Uygurs, a predominantly Sunni Muslim group, are the sweeping ethnic majority.

 

“Traditionally, a Uygur girl is never to leave home before marriage. So in the first few years, we wanted to explore people’s options within Xinjiang first to see if things could really work,” the Uygur woman said. “That’s why our migrant labor is for the most part arranged by the government.”

 

“We want these kids to be absolutely safe from any possible harm.”

 

That proved no easy task. For Nurimagul, the job then meant having to pay door-to-door visits to convince people of the changes migrant work has brought to the rest of China and could bring to their impoverished homes.

 

“Every once in a while, though, some radicals would talk behind our backs, spreading rumors that the youngsters would be sold as soon as they arrive in Urumqi (Xinjiang’s capital city),” she said.

 

“All we could do was smile, explain and let the truths speak for themselves,” added Idiris Islam, her colleague.

 

But fear of an unknown world and religious pullbacks persisted. The first few delegations, in particular, witnessed “several cases” of girls being dragged off from trains by strangers claiming to be their family.

 

“There was no way to verify them all. These people wanted to lock everyone in their homes for no apparent reason. They just resisted change,” said Belikiz Imin, a renowned community lecturer with Xinjiang’s Women’s Federation.

 

Resistance notwithstanding, the novel experiment continued in Shufu with constant adjustments. By 2006, local officials considered the time ripe for sending workers out of Xinjiang.

 

“We thought this through and through and paid attention down to the smallest possible detail,” Nurimagul said.

 

The workers, mostly farmers from the southern parts of Xinjiang, are sent to “places that showed the greatest interest in them”, she said. These include Tianjin as well as the provinces of Guangdong, Shandong, Hebei and Fujian. As of July 6, a total of 2,308 workers from Shufu were at work in those places, according to official figures. Females made up two-thirds of the overall pool.

 

Before departure, all workers receive free relevant skills training and Mandarin lessons in Urumqi. Each signs a year’s contract. “Many people are late teens when they sign up. When the year is up, the girls would be well beyond the legal age for marriage for ethnic groups (18 years as opposed to 20 for Han people). Most rural parents here advocate early marriage; we can’t work against that,” said Belikiz. “We’ll have to send them back to get married.”

 

It is ruled that for every batch of 50-plus workers, a Uygur chef, complete with Muslim cookware such as ovens for naan, a staple Uygur food, would follow for the full year. A Uygur doctor and police officer would accompany each group of more than 100 workers. And for delegations of more than 300 people, a top Uygur county official has to be on board until the end.

 

While “inland” – what the Uygurs refer to places outside of Xinjiang, itself a landlocked region, the workers stay in a dorm room for ten and are subject to strict work routines, weekly meetings and cultural activities. Most of their salaries are often kept by the Uygur counselors (for example, Nurimagul and Idiris) until the year is done so as to “force them to save more for the family”.

 

“I only spent some 100 yuan ($14) a month then,” recalled Tukiz. “We didn’t need to pay for anything anyway. Saving money was my dream so I never went out that much. And our counselors would organize sightseeing trips around town and to nearby cities from time to time.”

 

“Most of the kids are farmers who don’t have a clear sense of time. Some would sleep in until noon and come to work like nothing has happened, or count lunch break as work time and ask for money,” explained Belikiz.

 

“And if the counselors don’t keep the money for them, chances are, they’ll spend it all in no time,” she added.

 

To ensure their family the youngsters aren’t “sold to or enslaved by Han people” like the rumors have it, the Shufu government gives a free 21’’ television to each household that has someone working “inland”, and burns them each a DVD of their children’s lives in the factory and beyond. A DVD player is rented to most homes to play the discs.

 

Parent-children phone conversations are organized by the factories, while cadres in Shufu try to hold as many online videoconferences as they can.

 

Nurimagul, who claims to know each migrant worker “like a peasant knows their own farmland”, says their hard work has paid off.

 

“Now we don’t have to go door to door to ask people to join anymore. The kids volunteer. Our slots are being filled very quickly. The factories contact us every year to renew our terms of cooperation. Why would they keep asking us if our kids haven’t done a good job?”

 

“The factory managers love our kids. A typical Han migrant worker could easily sign a year’s contract and leave after two months. Our kids are in a group. They don’t do that,” she said.

 

About 100,000 people of different ethnic groups leave Xinjiang for city jobs every year, according to Nur Bekri, Xinjiang’s chairman.

 

“Migrant workers from Xinjiang may take some time to get accustomed to city jobs. Local governments may take some measures out of concern for their safety, such as buying group tickets for travel,” he said.

 

A massive brawl in a toy factory, where Uygur workers from Shufu were employed, broke out between Uygurs and local Han workers on June 26 in Shaoguan of Guangdong province.

 

Two Uygurs reportedly died and more than 100 were injured. Police say an unsubstantiated Internet posting that alleged six Uygur boys of raping two Han girls at the factory caused the tragedy.

 

Two people have been detained on charges of fabricating and spreading the rumors, which officials say also directly sparked the bloodiest riot in Xinjiang’s history nine days later in Urumqi.

 

The July 5 riot has left at least 197 people dead and more than 1,600 injured. According to police sources, rumors on both Han and Uygur sides were fueled and used by hostile forces overseas that sponsored and organized the violence, initiated by mostly Uygurs against by and large Han residents of Urumqi.

 

One typical version of the Shaoguan tragedy, according to Abdullah, a migrant worker in Urumqi, goes that more than 300 Uygur girls from Shufu were forced to leave for Guangdong after the government demolished their homes.

 

The girls were sold to Shaoguan, enslaved by local Han factory owners, and eventually raped and killed by local workers, the rumors say, echoing allegations by the World Uygur Congress, whose chairwoman Rebiya Kadeer the central government accuses of masterminding the July 5 riot.

 

While stressing that the rumors – and the brutal killings they triggered – have in no way affected Shufu’s migrant labor plans, Nurimagul acknowledged the deep psychological scars they have left on grassroots cadres like herself.

 

“It’s embarrassing. It’s as if somebody slapped you in the face for doing a lousy job. We did a fine job,” she said, insisting that migrant work must continue.

 

“We were almost at a stage where we don’t have to organize our kids in a group anymore. Our kids were just about to be capable of being completely on their own ‘inland’. This thing (the riot) will delay that for I don’t know how long,” Nurimagul said.

 

“Now all eyes are on us, and although nobody’s come to us, the foreign newspapers and TV stations are saying whatever they want to say from wherever they are sitting. There’s nothing we can really do. It’s plainly sad.”

 

Back in Bulaksu, though, people like Tukiz still know very little about the riots. To her, the days “inland” were like the college she never had.

 

“I truly miss those times… my younger sister is about 18 now. She graduated from junior high and is staying home to feed the cows and sheep. My parents are willing to send her ‘inland’ too,” she said.

 

The most immediate advice she would give to her sister if she were to go, Tukiz says, is to listen to the counselors. “They were really nice. They treated us like sisters, and that really helped me adjust,” she said.

 

The world away is still far from outside her home, where amidst the arid sands of the Gobi, a giant billboard was being erected on a side of the road. It read: “Migrant work is the practical means through which farmers become rich.”

 

Tukiz Juma's mother, 58, and younger sister, 18. The family is trying to get the 18-year-old to follow Tukiz's lead and venture "inland" - a term local Uygurs use to describe places outside Xinjiang, itself a landlocked region. 

Tukiz, 26, outside her new house, built with the money she made during the years working in Tianjin making rubber gloves. To her, those days were like the college she never had. 

Juma and his youngest daughter. The cows were also bought with Tukiz's money. 

A glimpse of the Uygur migrant workers' life in a Tianjin factory. 

A pair of Uygur girls posing for a photo around the soon-to-be demolished sections of the old town in Kashgar, China's westernmost city.

A Uygur boy around the old town of Kashgar.

Uygur businessmen enter the Central-West Asian Grand Bazaar in Kashgar. The billboard behind them reads: "If you haven't been to Kashgar, you've never truly been in Xinjiang." Locals say the city preserves the essences of Uygur culture.

Uygur workers line up before they leave for Guangdong on government-arranged migrant work delegations from Shufu, a poor agricultural county in Kashgar.

前晚终于回京。这次出差甚久，西疆黄沙下，国难之烈，令人神伤。

 

时至今日，境外主流媒体继续大肆炒作，国内宣传机器依然置若罔闻。这说明，实质的政策性变化是不会有了。换句话说，境外那些势力的目的已经达到了。暴乱的社会基础非但没有消融，反而更加稳固。在大规模，有组织的暴力结束后，零星的无组织，甚至无目的的群众间暴力已经出现。根深蒂固的阶级矛盾，终于与官民长久以来讳莫如深的民族矛盾、宗教矛盾交缠在一处，成为新疆和平稳定的梦魇。

 

在不同程度上，七五暴乱宣布了三十年来矫枉过正的“两少一宽”等民族政策，十年来丢车保卒的西部大开发战略，和宣传部门简单粗暴的工作方法在新疆维吾尔族自治区的失败。简言之，汹涌蓬勃，毫无道德可言的市场经济给一直以来建立在伊斯兰教义道德上，平缓安逸的维族生活带来了过大的冲击。多数维族普通民众在这种社会环境下的生存空间越来越小，发展机会也越来越少。正是在这种社会环境下，国家力量对疆内资源的全力开发，为少数群体提供了谋求私利的巨大舞台。换句话说，当地普通群众会产生很真切的“被牺牲了”的感觉。这种感觉是各族民众所共有的。然而对被认为是新疆“原住民”的维吾尔族群众来讲，心理失衡的现象在掺入复杂的民族情绪后，显得尤其严重。

 

其结果，就是维族普通群众对政府和国内媒体愈发不信任。这样，本应由信任填充的精神空间变成了真空。这种精神上的真空是如此之大、如此之令人困惑，连《古兰经》浩如烟海的教义都对其并无解释。但完全的真空是不存在的。没用多久，基层民众们就自食其力地用宗教极端主义和各种谣言把这一空白填补上了。

 

这才是新疆问题的死结。与之相比，自治区政府在暴乱当日和第三日的软弱无力（甚至连暴乱当晚武警开枪击毙暴徒，都是等待多时全无指示后忍无可忍的自发行为），不过是逻辑的必然而已。在一派和谐的舆论环境中，满腹苦水的基层工作者们会很快发现，自己长久以来和风细雨劳作所换来的，竟然只是一张反方向的慢车票。火车不紧不慌地向相反方向行驶，一刻不停。窗外越发凋敝。在没有门的车厢里，乘客们人心惶惶，只能挤到窗边，争着瞧外面那愈发黯淡的世界。可火车还是坚定地前进着，朝着相反的方向。这沿途的景致，他们一点都不会错过。

1.      今年5月间，自治区基层干部在走访南疆时，在不少农户家中发现地道和为“圣战”准备的大批管制刀具。

2.      基层干部们同时发现，受境外势力影响，这些地区的一些维族妇女越来越多地着黑袍、披面纱，而抛弃了本民族广为人知的花帽、长辫等服饰、打扮。

3.      据信，这种衣着趋势是受到了境外极端教派及各种势力的影响和渗透所致。

4.      此类信息经各单位汇总后，均被报至自治区领导人处。

5.      7·5暴乱前至少一天，新疆大学校方已掌握7·5当日，受境外势力在互联网上蛊惑煽动的部分维族学生将上街闹事的消息。

6.      校方将此信息传达至班主任一级，希望班主任们能在暴乱发生前有所作为。

7.      暴乱发生前，乌鲁木齐市多处路面突然出现大量砖头、石块。

8.      暴乱发生前，一些着黑袍的维族女子出现在乌市街头，公开组织游行示威。

9.      她们向一些无业维族青年发放资金和兴奋剂，诱惑其参与暴力活动。

10. 在暴乱中，一些维族妇女在男性维族暴徒身后，为他们不断地敲下路面上的乐泉砖，作为凶器。

11.  所谓乐泉砖，是以自治区领导人闻名的，在乌市主要街道地面所铺的渗雨彩砖（见下文配图）。

12.  7月7日汉族群众游行时，要求自治区及市委领导人下台的呼声此起彼伏。

13.  重申一遍，这是一次主要由境外势力资助和煽动而引发的暴乱。

14.  但同时，暴乱的社会基础，是由于政府严重失当的民族政策，自治区内惊人的两极分化，和在市场经济条件下，使普通维族群众愈发难以共同致富的各种“实际存在的”歧视现象。

15.  群众是真正的英雄，而我们自己往往是幼稚可笑的。

1.      从事发至今，一些维族暴徒对绝大多数为汉人的各族群众，采取了骇人听闻的超常规暴力手段。这决不是一起普通的刑事案件。

2.      这是一次主要由境外势力资助和煽动而引发的暴乱。

3.      当地维汉群众之间的所谓对立不是这次暴乱的根本原因。暴乱分子之狠，各案发现场之惨烈，不是民族对立可以解释得了的。

4.      暴徒的血腥行为，应完全由将其洗脑并以各种手段武装起来的境外势力负责。

5.      当地普通维族群众对本市汉民并无特殊的恶感。

6.      但在一定程度上，两族的对立情绪实际存在。

7.      这种对立情绪，主要是政府过犹不及的民族政策，和市场经济下各地，尤其是在疆内，对维族群众实际存在的就业与生活歧视之间矛盾的作用结果。

8.      6月26日的广东韶关汉维暴力事件是大暴乱的直接导火索。

9.      对媒体不予或推迟报道韶关事件的宣传指示，使境外势力在煽动中如鱼得水。

10. 暴乱发生当晚，当局在采取何种镇压手段的决定上犹豫不决。在暴徒仍肆虐全城的时候，这种犹豫直接导致了大量无辜群众的死亡。

11.  暴乱后的两日内，当局没有能够及时用武警、特警、公安力量保护各族群众的安全。在这样的情况下，由于汉族群众的大量死亡，各单位、社区的汉人只能自己组织起来，武装起来，抵御维族暴徒的下一波攻击。

12.  在这一过程中（7月7日中午至下午），政府并未及时出动警力，果断戒严。

13.  其结果，是部分汉族群众冲入维族社区进行打击报复，造成了不必要的伤亡，和维族群众对汉人的普遍恐慌和仇视。

14.  王乐泉7月7日的讲话掷地有声，值得赞扬。可惜晚矣。

15.  境外势力和媒体利用了两族群众的这一心理，进一步煽动民族情绪，在不少内地网民不了解事实真相，一味宣扬大规模仇杀的情况下，成功造成了中国汉人政府镇压维族群众，汉人疯狂打击报复的舆论事实。

16.  由于中央宣传部门的介入，内地媒体除新华社、中央电视台、中国日报社、中新社外均无独立采写权，再加上各种消息封锁，造成网络谣言广为传播。

17.  严重的民族对立情绪不仅在区内，也必将在全国各地长期蔓延。

18.  新疆安全形势必将逐年恶化。

19.  新任地方领导人必须立即调整民族政策，果断处置暴乱分子，安抚各族无辜群众，巩固民族团结。

20. 重建各民族间的信任将是一项长期的，艰苦的工作。压服压服，压而不服。

21.  民族问题说到底，是阶级斗争问题。

22. 多想，是最珍贵的道德。

注：由于众所周知的原因，本文人物为化名。

 

那不过是个普通的周六。七月四号晚上，古丽·艾孜来提和一班维族、汉族朋友在酒吧里一起悠闲地坐着，喝酒，听音乐。她的时间很充裕。第二天上夜班，只需晚七点前到单位报到。这是一个可以完全放松的夜晚。起床后，这个维吾尔族女孩慢悠悠地换上了一件超短裙，心情愉快地出门逛了一天街。

 

她逛的地方叫山西巷子，是维族聚集区。那天，街上特别安静。但三十岁的古丽并不害怕。在这里和二道桥，总有些原教旨主义的年轻维族男子会在和穿着相对暴露的本族女孩擦肩而过时恶语相向。她自己也被骂过好几次。但那又怎么样呢？她习惯了。她只想逛街。

 

没事的，她这样告诉自己。现在维族女孩大多都把自己打扮得那么时髦。而且，这些小巴郎子还能怎么样？她边想边逛，不经意间已经快六点半了。古丽曾向她远在和田的父亲保证，自己会努力进取，成为最好的医生 – 那是她望女成凤的老爸的最大期望。正是他，让她选择了医学院校，并最终成为了一名医生。

 

古丽是家里的希望。她是五个孩子中最小的，也是唯一在自治区首府乌鲁木齐市工作的。她很清楚家人对她的期许，和自己身上的责任。

 

这么想着，她慢慢地走到了单位。

 

两小时后，古丽从办公室的窗户里看到，几十个“二十出头的小男孩，一看就是没有正当职业的那种”，从她已经工作了六年的自治区人民医院门口呼啸而过，一些还在四处疯狂地打砸。

 

“我一开始以为是几个人打架，没想那么多。后来就发现问题的严重性了，”她回忆道。“我在想，如果我晚一点，到八点半在那边走的话，我也会被打的。肯定是。就是上班把我给救了。”

 

这是新疆维吾尔族自治区历史上最黑暗的一天。受境外势力资助和煽动的维族暴徒，对乌鲁木齐市的各族群众开始了惨绝人寰的屠杀。汉族人是他们的主要目标。至少184人，其中137名汉族群众，在这场悲剧中遇难。

 

自治区政府最新的伤亡数据暗示，最终的遇难者人数几可达到300名。此前有外电报道，虽然乌市秩序正在政府反复强调民族团结的气氛中逐渐恢复正常，这场所谓由“民族情绪”引发的冲突已在当地各族群众心中划下一道深深的口子。

 

古丽的心理伤痕是双重的。第一来自本族暴徒的惊人残酷。那些本族间玩笑似的口头暴力在一夜之间升级了。“那天山西巷子那边，好多维族女孩也被打了，就是没有打死的……（暴徒对）穿着时尚一点的女孩，碰着就打，”她回忆道。

 

这是古丽做梦也没想到的。这个穿着连衣裙接受采访的女孩平静地说，她以自己的方式，坚持着穆斯林的信仰。“我这样穿着打扮是违反（规矩）的。可能做乃麻兹（礼拜），我也做不到，因为没有时间……但我心里是有信仰的，只是没有刻意地去表现。”

 

乌市官员未对类似的维族内部暴力发表任何评论。但市内的维吾尔消息来源称，这个问题存在已久。“没有谁说这样的事。他们总是觉得别的事情更重要，”一名维族女学生在街上接受采访时说。由于害怕报复，她没有透露名字。

 

另一个让古丽担心的是这起血案会影响同事间的关系。在她科室的同事中，汉族占到几乎一半。

 

“我们在办公室基本上都不讨论这些问题。我们尽量把注意力转移到别的事情上去……心里还是有一点别扭。希望这个事情能很自然地过去，不要影响我们现在这个气氛……这么长时间在一个办公室，已经多少年了在一起，已经产生某种说不上的一种感情。我现在想的就是，这件事会不会影响我们之间的这种感情，”她说。

 

从和田到乌鲁木齐，古丽走过了一段货真价实的漫长的路。在乌市1700公里之外的和田地区，96%的居民都是维族，当地汉族的维语水平也普遍很高。因此，古丽从小到大上的都是维族学校，在大学里也是民族班的学生。班上的180名同学都是维族。

 

然而今天，她说，至少在各民族聚集的乌鲁木齐，“互相同化是不可避免的”。

 

“有不少汉族人和维族人结婚、谈恋爱的，我知道的就不少。互相融合是一个自然规律，如果能够稳定发展，没有出现什么大的问题，这个就是必然的，因为这是生活的需要，”她说。

 

但在骇人听闻的惨案发生后，重建民族间的信任将是一项长期的，艰苦的工作。

 

“如果我们把这个问题想得太重了，或者是刻意地去创造一个紧张的气氛，对双方都不利。我觉得下一步我们应该做的就是比较理智地，比较有技巧地解决这个问题，不要再发生什么伤感情的事情。因为我们还是离不开的，”古丽说。

 

她说，“不问不说”不失为一种并不高明，却很有效的办法。此前，各民族朋友在一起的时候，“互相沟通还是很好的，从来没有为什么事情争论过，也许是因为我们中间没有人谈敏感的话题吧。双方都很小心，每个人都尊重对方。我觉得我周边的汉族人就是这样的。我们都没有说影响对方民族尊严的一些话。”

 

“当然融合是一个趋势，但不能失去自己的本色。要互相尊重。”

 

但在更年轻的时候，古丽并不是这么想的。“那时候没想那么多，也有吵架的，但都是小孩之间的吵架……在上大学，尤其是工作以后，同事之间天天面对，我们大部分时间都在办公室过，”她说。

 

“每个人都要尊重每个人的习惯。当然，我们维族人肯定也有欠缺的地方，汉族人也有欠缺的地方，每个民族也都有自己优势的地方。但是我周边的汉族人从来不说一些敏感的话题。我也不说。”

 

在惨剧发生一周之后，乌市的安全形势相对好转。但和多数当地居民一样，古丽还是怕上街走路。她上下班都打车。数万武警守城，使她“感觉还安全些”。但她也知道，大批警力总有撤的一天。

 

在那之前，至少一直到现在，古丽的生活异常单调：“逛不了街，约会也没有了，不能出去娱乐，也不能发短信，也不能上网，也不能在路上安全地走。基本上就是在单位和家之间打转。”

 

“单位是高度紧张的工作环境，回家以后一打开电视，就是这个新闻。有时候心里还是很不舒服的，”她说。

 

“我希望时间能尽快消除这个阴影。过去吧，这些事情，尽快地过去吧。”

 

古丽的画像。出于安全考虑，我们没有刊发她的照片。

注：由于众所周知的原因，本文人物为化名。

 

三十岁的古丽·艾孜来提是新疆维吾尔自治区人民医院的一名大夫，已在乌鲁木齐市十二年，大学六年，工作六年。她是土生土长的和田人。和田是全新疆维吾尔自治区维族人口比例最大的地区，维族群众占当地两百万居民的96%。

 

她的小学、初中、高中都在维族学校里度过，之后考入了区首府乌鲁木齐一所大学的民族班，班里180人均为维族学生。

 

古丽家里有五个孩子；她是最小的一个。她的两个哥哥和两个姐姐都在和田居住。

 

Q: 请简单介绍一下你自己。

 

A: 我不是一个特别传统的维族人，但是在一个特别传统的地方长大的。

 

我出生在和田，是比较传统的一个地方，离新疆（其他地方）比较远，得有2000多公里吧。我们那边维族多一些，我小学中学都是在维族学校上的。当时，因为我们和田的这个环境，我们和田的汉族人说维语，所以没有太多（使用汉语）的环境。我们有汉语课，但是那边的汉族人说维语说得特别好。我们的邻居，我爸我妈单位的邻居，（维语）说得特别好。

 

我中学毕业以后，来到（乌鲁木齐的）新疆上的大学。当时我的汉语水平不是特别得好，本来是五年的课程，但是为了给以后的基础课打好基础，我们还要学一年的汉语，第二年再开始上专业课，这样就上了六年。这六年中，我也学了不少（汉语）。现在（我的汉语）表达能力比那个时候（还要）好得多了。

 

那个时候刚来大学的时候，汉语水平不高，在学校里面，无论是民族班还是汉族班，考试内容都差不多，对我们要求也比较严格。学校对少数民族的语言和学习各方面都很照顾的，（在）考试分数线（上）是很照顾的，（这样）让我们跟得上他们（汉族学生）的水平，尤其是我们这样从南疆过来的学生。

 

毕业以后，我到了新疆维吾尔自治区人民医院 – 这是新疆最大的医院 – 工作。工作以来，我觉得在这个环境里，我们各民族之间比较和谐。工作到现在，给我的感觉就是，（这家医院）有比较好的工作气氛。我们没有感觉到什么汉族维族，就是互相学习帮助。而且我们经常（一起）出去活动，也挺好的。

 

Q: 你是从什么时候开始明确自己维族人的身份的？

 

A: 我小时候没有人专门给我教过（本民族历史文化传统）方面的知识，只不过是有一些老前辈们，比如说我的奶奶、姥爷、爷爷，说过我们民族以前是这样子的，说乃麻兹（礼拜），说古兰经。但是没有一个专门的场所或者是专门的人给我们教过什么。

 

我觉得我们这个民族历史比较长，木卡姆（一种传统民间古典歌舞音乐形式）呀，音乐啊，古典的一些东西。文化历史比较长……但我的这些历史知识比较欠缺。

 

我从小受到的教育就是，我们在各民族聚集的一个地方（居住），我们属于少数民族。当时，我们家人没有刻意地教过我一定要怎么样。我觉得我小时候很自然地，我们邻居和老爸的一些（汉族）同事，我经常到他们办公室去玩儿，说实话，我没有太多的（区分）这是汉族，这是维族，因为，可能是我周边的环境，（让我）很自然地就接受他们。很正常，我觉得。

 

他是汉族，我是维族，但是我们照样很正常地交流和接触。比如说汉族人的春节，我记得我们小时候，爸爸妈妈带我到他们（汉族同事）家去拜年；在我们的库尔班节、肉孜节，我老爸单位的（汉族）同事，也到我们家来拜年。

 

我肯定有这个概念：我是维吾尔族，我是一个和田人。但是跟和田的汉族人接触，我是很自然的。我对汉族人的看法没有固定的模式。

 

Q: 在日常有什么活动，是只许本族人参加的吗？

 

A: 我小时候的感觉，我们的葬礼（通常是只允许本族人参加的），当然我也不可能经常去葬礼；还有就是小型的麦西莱甫（一种民间娱乐活动），在农村里面举行的 – 当然，农村里面本来就没有多少汉族，汉族基本上在城市里面。

 

Q: 小时候，感觉维汉两族有什么样的不同？

 

A: 大体上是一样，一起玩。但生活习惯、饮食习惯肯定不一样。你说我们维族人的婚礼、葬礼和一些（民族特有的）活动，这个跟（汉族）不一样。

 

在吃饭的问题上，我们有讲究。我们维族人在吃饭的时候，声音必须小一点。声音大了，或者餐具发出动静了，都是不太礼貌的行为。而且吃饭的时候最好不要说太多的话。我不知道汉族人有没有这样的一个（传统）。

 

而且我们在清真餐这方面是比较讲究的。我到北京去，饿死了也必须找到一个清真的地方吃饭。这个观念，我认为任何一个维族人都是比较讲究的。

 

除了生活习惯、饮食文化以外，我觉得其他方面都是一些小细节方面的不同。

 

Q: 从维族聚集区和田来到各族聚集的区首府乌鲁木齐，刚开始感觉如何？

 

A: 很陌生，不习惯，但这是一个很好的城市，我没有明显的排斥感……这汉族人很多，我们和田还是维族人占（人口的）大多数。当时（刚来的时候），这对我来说是个很陌生的城市，因为第一次离开家。

 

Q: 汉族人的生活有什么让你羡慕的东西吗？

 

A: 我前一段时间去过北京，我觉得那边的生活水平比较高，人才也多。我羡慕的不是他们多么有钱，我羡慕的是他们有能力，综合素质也比较高。因为大城市，比如北京、上海来的汉族，他们培训的机会更多一些，发展环境也更好一些，跟我们相比，他们接触了新鲜的环境，国际上的新技术，在培训上也好一些。这方面我比较羡慕。

Q: 你欣赏汉族人的哪些品质？不欣赏哪些品质？维族人的呢？

 

A: 我喜欢汉族人的是他们比较勤奋。我见过很多汉族学生，比较简单，朴素，能吃苦。这方面我比较佩服。我们（维族）的学生相比较起来，比较爱打扮。

 

不太欣赏的都是一些小细节，大的方面我没有太观察过。在小细节上，就是吃饭啊，尊老啊，这些。我们尊重老前辈的传统比较深。

 

至于我们自己，我觉得我们首先是一个特别热爱生活的民族，能歌善舞，无论是饮食文化，还是在尊老爱幼这方面，包括卫生习惯，我们也是很讲究的。不欣赏的地方，目前为止我发现的就是不太能吃苦，爱娱乐。没有太多不欣赏的。

 

Q: 在与汉族朋友进行思想沟通的时候，有没有出现过障碍？

 

A: 没有特别的（障碍）。如果我现在还生活在和田那种环境，或者是生活在某一个农村，或者是我没有在乌鲁木齐这里遇到、学到那么多新鲜的东西，可能我的想法和现在的想法就不会太一样，我现在给你的回答也不会太一样。

 

我觉得文化这个东西，尤其是在我们这样一个（民族聚集）的城市里，大家一起工作，一起生活，我认为慢慢互相融合是不可避免的事情。比如说，有不少汉族人和维族人结婚、谈恋爱的，我知道的就不少。互相融合是一个自然规律，如果能够稳定发展，没有出现什么大的问题，这个就是必然的，因为这是生活的需要。

 

Q: 有没有无话不说的汉族朋友？

 

A: 有朋友，我们互相交流工作上的事情、国际上的新闻，还一起活动，但不是说无话不谈。本民族这样的朋友也只是一两个。

 

其实我们（和汉族朋友）在一起的时候，互相沟通还是很好的，从来没有为什么事情争论过，也许（是因为）我们中间没有（谈）敏感的话题吧。双方都很小心，每个人都尊重对方。我觉得我周边的汉族人就是这样的。我们都没有说影响对方民族尊严的一些话。我们交流的时候非常小心。

 

当然，小时候肯定不是这样。那时候没想那么多，也有吵架的，但都是小孩之间的吵架……在上大学，尤其是工作以后，同事之间天天面对，我们大部分时间都在办公室过……每个人都要尊重每个人的习惯。当然，我们（维族人）肯定也有欠缺的地方，汉族人也有欠缺的地方，每个民族也都有自己优势的地方。但是我周边的汉族人从来不说一些敏感的话题，至少我没有感觉到。

 

我们主要（谈论的）是品牌、服装、明星。也有工作上的矛盾，很少有民族（话题）上的辩论。

 

包括现在的事件，我们在办公室基本上都不讨论这些问题。我们尽量把注意力转移到别的事情上去。我也不太想继续说，也不想她们说。我怕说来说去说来说去，形成矛盾了。

 

我心里还是有一点别扭。希望这个事情能很自然地过去，不要影响我们现在这个气氛。（我担心）这个事情会不会影响我们之间的感情。这么长时间在一个办公室，已经多少年了在一起，已经产生某种说不上的一种感情。我现在想的就是，这件事会不会影响我们之间的这种感情。

 

Q: 你认为一个维族人能不能真正进入汉人的圈子里？

 

A: 这个我没想过。我现在处于互相尊重的阶段。你有你自己的（圈子），我也有我自己的（圈子），我们又有我们共同的（圈子），我尊重你的信仰，尊重你的生活习惯，尊重你的文化；你也应该尊重我的。我们有共同应该做的事情，而这个事情要做好。在做的过程中有可能需要互相帮助，互相学习，千万不要发生什么矛盾。我就希望这样子的（状态）。但是两个民族之间，应该保留自己的个性。当然融合是一个趋势，但不能失去自己的本色。要互相尊重。

 

Q: 你觉得一个人最重要的是什么？

 

A: 诚实。这是人本质上的东西。有的人本质上没有这个东西，想诚实也没办法。

 

Q: 谈谈你对政府民族政策的切身体会。

 

A: 在我们和田这样边远的城市，当时我们学校高考的时候，（录取）分数线不是特别的高。国家把我们这些边远地区（学生）的（录取）分数线降低，让他们能到内地的重点学校去上大学……如果国家平等对待的话，让我们少数民族跟内地一样对待的话，肯定他们去不了的，因为他们分数不高。

 

我们当时最高的分数是400多，内地重点大学对我们的录取线是380多，可我拿的是370多，所以没去成。

 

Q: 你同龄的维族人里，失业的多吗？

 

A: 不算多。因为医生进不了大医院，也可以进私家的医院。基本上没有啥也没干的。因为学医的，到哪都可以用得上。这是我们学医的优势。

 

选择学医是我老爸的功劳。我想学艺术，我喜欢艺术。如果按我的想法，我想去北京艺术学院学音乐，或者写作、服装设计什么的。但是我已经步入到这个行业了，对它有了感情。

 

Q: 谈谈你的宗教观。

 

A: 我有信仰。因为我觉得不论是什么样的民族，人都应该有信仰。作为一个人，我觉得信仰这个东西是很重要的……穆斯林教法里面有很多规章制度，比如说，我这样穿着打扮（连衣裙）就是违反（规矩）的。而且做乃麻兹，我也做不到，因为没有时间……但我心里是有信仰的，只是没有刻意地去表现。政府在这方面也没有什么限制，是尊重我们信仰的。

 

Q: 上周日暴乱时，你在干什么？

 

A: 周六晚上我们去过酒吧，有汉族朋友，一起坐，一起喝酒，一起听音乐。周日我晚上七点钟上班。我逛了一天街，街上特别安静，而且穿的是超短裙，就在山西巷子走着呢，我在想，如果我晚一点，到八点半在那边走的话，我也会被打的。肯定是。就是上班把我给救了。那天山西巷子那边，好多维族女孩也被打了，就是没有打死的……现在维族女孩基本上穿得都是一样（时尚）。（暴徒对）穿着时尚一点的女孩，碰着就打。

 

他们反对我们这样穿着打扮。我以前也有过在山西巷子、二道桥那边，当然是我们维族男孩里的少数部分，基本上是对宗教的看法比较盲目的一些人，他们没有文化，没有上过大学。如果受过教育的话，他们就会不那么盲目地看宗教，就能准确地理解（教义）。

 

经常有维族女孩挨骂。我之前也被人骂过，走在路上，擦肩而过的时候被骂。

 

周日，我六点半到科室。在值班的时候，也就是八点半左右，一下子就觉得外面乱了。一看外面二院附近，有很多二十出头的小男孩，一看就是没有正当职业的那种。我一开始以为是几个人打架，没想那么多。后来就发现问题的严重性了。

 

Q: 暴乱事件对你的生活有什么影响？

 

A: 我还是不敢走路，我七月五号到现在一直在打车上下班，基本上没走路或坐公交车。我还是小心啊。武警在这里，我的心里感觉还安全些。

 

逛不了街，约会也没有了，不能出去娱乐，也不能发短信，也不能上网，也不能在路上安全地走。基本上就是在单位和家之间打转。单位是高度紧张的工作环境，回家以后一打开电视，就是这个新闻，有时候心里还是很不舒服的。

 

Q: 这些天来，主要是通过什么渠道来了解事件发展的？

 

A: 通过一些朋友。5号、6号，我没有时间看电视。现在倒是天天看新闻。

 

Q: 能换位思考，想想一个汉族人对这次事件的感受吗？

 

A: 我没办法想象这个。我怎么也不能把自己换位成一个汉族人来考虑这个问题。我想象不到。真的……我希望谁都不要受伤害。

 

Q: 你觉得在事件之后，维汉两族群众应该怎样重建彼此间的信任？

 

A: 如果我们把这个问题想得太重了，或者是刻意地去创造一个紧张的气氛，对双方都不利。我觉得下一步我们应该做的就是比较理智地，比较有技巧地解决这个问题，不要再发生什么伤感情的事情。因为我们还是离不开的。

 

我希望现在还在发生的一些外面的小摩擦尽快地平息，通过时间来淡化。肯定会有心理阴影，这是不可否认的。我希望时间能尽快消除这个阴影。

 

过去吧，这些事情，尽快地过去吧。

It was like any other Saturday. On the evening of July 4, Guli Hazret was at a pub with friends, Uygur and Han, having beer and enjoying music. She was on a nightshift starting 7 pm the next day, meaning there was plenty of time for a hangover. When she woke up, the Uygur girl changed into a miniskirt and went shopping.

 

Shanxi alley, a Uygur part of town, was surprisingly quiet. But Guli, 30, wasn’t afraid. The danger of being cursed by fundamentalist Uygur passersby boys for dressing up the way she did – a mundane scene for her and many other Uygur girls in Urumqi – won’t hurt her feelings much. She was used to it.

 

“They can’t possibly do much to Uygur girls,” Guli thought to herself. Uygur girls of today mostly wear the same fashionable clothes anyway; what can these boys do? She still wanted to hang out, but it was almost 6:30 pm. Guli had promised her father, who forced her into the profession and has great expectations, that she would become the best doctor she could be.

 

As the youngest of five and the only child working in Urumqi, Xinjiang’s capital city, Guli knew she had responsibilities to fulfill for her family in the remote prefecture of Hotan. So she went to work.

 

Two hours later, Guli saw through her office window dozens of “20-something Uygur boys, who clearly had no decent jobs,” storming the gate at the regional People’s Hospital, where she has worked for six years.

 

“I thought it was a gang fight. It wasn’t much later that I found out how serious things were,” she recalled. “I’ve been thinking that if I got to work late that day, I would’ve been beaten too. That I’m sure. Work saved me.”

 

It was the darkest day in the history of the Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region, when Uygur rioters, funded and sparked by forces overseas, brutally slaughtered mostly Han civilians in Urumqi. At least 184 people, 137 of them Hans, were killed.

 

The government’s most recent update of the toll gives clear indications that the eventual number of victims could reach 300. Foreign media sources say the tragedy was ethnically fueled and has left a deep scar, as the city struggles to recover amid government calls for ethnic unity.

 

For Guli, the wound is two-fold. One the one hand, the Uygur-on-Uygur verbal violence she had long experienced turned shockingly ugly during the riot. “Many Uygur girls were beaten that day on Shanxi alley, just that no one died… They (the rioters) beat every (Uygur) girl who wore fashion.”

 

It was beyond her worst nightmare, said Guli, who, in a one-piece dress, stressed that she has always been faithful in her own right. “I may be against (fundamentalist customs) for wearing this, and I may not have time for namaz (Muslim prayer). But I do have beliefs in my heart,” she said.

 

The city has not openly acknowledged or addressed Uygur-on-Uygur violence as an issue. But Uygur sources say it has existed in Urumqi for a long time. “No one talks about it. People always put other things higher up on the agenda,” a female Uygur graduate student, who refused to reveal her name in fear of retaliation, told China Daily on the street.

 

And on the other hand, the extent of brutality of Sunday’s rioters makes Guli worried about her office environment. Almost half of her peers are Hans.

 

“We don’t talk about the riot at work. We try to focus on other things… I feel a little uncomfortable. I hope this thing can pass naturally and not affect our (office) environment… it’s been this long together at the office. We’ve formed a special bond. All I’m thinking now is whether this thing will affect that bond,” she said.

 

Guli has literally come a long way to Urumqi from home, 1,700 km away. About 96 percent of the two million residents in Hotan are Uygurs. Most local Hans speak flawless Uygur. That’s why the girl grew up going to all-Uygur schools. And even during college in Urumqi, she was enrolled, at her own choosing, into a class of 180 Uygur students and no Hans.

 

Today, she says, at least in Urumqi, where people of all ethnicities reside, “mutual assimilation is inevitable”.

 

“I know quite a number of Hans and Uygurs in love or are married. If no major incident breaks out and with a stable environment, assimilation will happen because it is what life (here) needs,” Guli said.

 

But in the wake of the latest catastrophe, much remains to be done to rebuild trust between the ethnic groups.

 

“Take things too seriously or arbitrarily creating a tense environment won’t help either side. I think the next step we should take is to rationally and tactfully resolve this issue and let nothing that hurts each other happen again. After all, we can’t live without each other,” Guli said.

 

One passive, but effective, strategy to secure the bond that worked in the past, she says, is no-show, no-tell. “We never argue about anything, and maybe that’s because we don’t talk about sensitive issues. Both sides are very cautious; everyone respects another. The Han people around me are like that. We never say anything that hurts the other’s ethnic dignity,” Guli said.

 

“Of course, assimilation is a trend. But you must never lose what makes you ‘you’. There’s got to be mutual respect,” she added.

 

A younger Guli, though, felt differently. “Then I never thought about these things, and would fight when I had to… as a kid. That’s changed since college, and especially at work, where we meet everyday and spend most of our time… we each have our advantages and deficiencies as Uygurs and Hans, but we don’t (have) to talk about them,” she said.

As security eases a week on from the disaster, like most local residents, Guli is still afraid to walk outside. Instead, she has been taking taxis to and from work. She says the armed police presence makes her feel “a little safer”, but she doesn’t know what will happen when they leave.

And meanwhile, with “no shopping, no dates, no entertainment, no text messaging services, no Internet, no even walking on the road safely”, everyday from home Guli goes to work. From work she comes home again. “And after all that hard work, when you come back, this (riot) is the only thing you see on TV. I feel uncomfortable,” she said.

 

“I hope time can wear things off as soon as possible. Let it pass, all of this, let it pass quickly.”

Guli Hazret, 30, was born and raised in Hotan, a prefecture boasting the highest Uygur population anywhere in the Xinjiang Uygur autonomous region. About 96 percent of the two million residents there are ethnic Uygurs.

 

The girl grew up going to all-Uygur schools, where a small proportion of the staff were ethnic Hans. Although Mandarin Chinese was taught, most local Han people, especially the offspring of first-generation settlers, spoke flawless Uygur.

 

She has been a doctor for six years at the regional People’s Hospital in Urumqi, where she went to university. Even in college, she was enrolled, at her own choosing, into a class of 180 Uygur students and no Han peers.

 

Guli Hazret is youngest of five children. All her brothers and sisters are working in Hotan, where her earliest traceable ancestors lived.

 

Q: Recall your childhood. What do you think makes you Uygur?

 

A: Growing up, no one really taught me our history and customs in particular. Some seniors, like my grandparents and grandpa-in-law, told me what our ethnicity was like in history, and about namaz (Muslim prayer) and the Koran. But there wasn’t a set place or person that would do this for us.

 

I think we have a long history and rich culture, with Muqam (a mixture of local song, dance, folk and classical music) and the like… but I lack the knowledge in history stuff.

 

I was brought up knowing that we’re in a place where different ethnicities reside, and where we are an ethnic minority. My family never deliberately taught me how to deal with non-Uygurs. I always played at our (Han) neighbors’ and with (Han) colleagues of my dad’s in his office... Perhaps the environment (in Hotan) made me accept them (the Hans) naturally.

 

They may be Hans and I a Uygur, but we still had normal contact. When I was young, my parents would take me to wish them (the Han colleagues) a happy new year on Spring Festival. They do the same during our Kurban (Festival of Sacrifice) and Eid ul-Fitr (end of Ramadan) holidays.

 

Of course I knew I was a Uygur and a Hotan girl. But it was natural for me to be with the Hans at home. I don’t have stereotypes about Han people.

 

Q: Tell us how you feel about the government’s ethnic policies.

 

A: We don’t need to get as high marks (as the Hans do) in the national college entrance exam. The state lowered our requirements so as to let us be able to go to top-class universities in other provinces… if we were treated equally, most of us would not have been able to make it, because we had low marks.

 

The highest mark here then was 400-something (out of 750 marks; most Han students needed more than 500 for top-class universities). The requirement for first-class universities elsewhere was 380-something, but I only got 370.

 

Q: Tell me the ways in which you feel the Uygurs and Hans are different.

 

A: We’re for the most part the same; we play along. But our living and dieting customs are definitely different. And our weddings, funerals and other (Uygur-unique) activities are different with (the Hans).

 

When it comes to eating, we have set rules. We Uygurs must lower our voices and not speak too much during meals. Being loud or making sounds with our dinning gear are considered impolite. I don’t know if Han people have that (tradition).

 

And we’re very strict with Muslim food. When I was in Beijing for an exchange program in January, I’d rather starve to death than eat non-Muslim food. I think that’s something any Uygur would uphold.

 

Aside from these, I think other differences are in the details.

 

Q: How did you feel about Urumqi when you first came?

 

A: Very alien. (I was) not used to it. But it’s a very good city and I never really resented it that much… there are many Han people here, and back home, Uygurs are the majority. When I first came, Urumqi felt like a very alien city to me. It was the first time I was away from home.

 

Q: What do you like and dislike most about Han people? What about Uygurs?

 

A: I like the Han people’s work ethic. I’ve seen many Han girls who live plain and work hard. I admire that. Uygur girls, in comparison, are quite fond of fancy make-ups.

 

What I don’t like are in the details; I haven’t observed much about the bigger issues. The details are like eating (habits), respect for seniors and so on. We (Uygurs) have a tradition of respecting the elderly.

 

As for ourselves, I think that we’re first and foremost an ethnicity that truly loves life, with singing and dancing traditions. We have a great food culture, respect the elderly and children, and boast a habit of keeping things clean. What I don’t like is we enjoy entertainment and don’t tend to work too hard. There isn’t much (else) I dislike.

 

Q: Are there things you just can’t fully explain to a Han friend?

 

A: Nothing in particular. If I were still living in Hotan or some village, or if I didn’t see and learn so many new things in Urumqi, I probably would be thinking differently, and my answers to you now would be different.

 

I think in a city like Urumqi where people (of all ethnicities) work and live together, mutual assimilation is inevitable. I know quite a number of Hans and Uygurs in love or are married. If no major incident breaks out and with a stable environment, assimilation will happen because it is what life (here) needs.

 

Q: Do you have Han friends with whom you share everything?

 

A: I’ve got (Han) friends who I talk about work and international news and hang out with. But we don’t share everything. I only have a Uygur friend or two of that nature.

 

Our relations (with Han friends) have been great. We never argue about anything, and maybe that’s because we don’t talk about sensitive issues. Both sides are very cautious; everyone respects another. The Han people around me are like that. We never say anything that hurts the other’s ethnic dignity.

 

Of course, it wasn’t like that when I was younger. Then I never thought about these things, and would fight when I had to… as a kid. That’s changed since college, and especially at work, where we meet everyday and spend most of our time… we each have our advantages and deficiencies as Uygurs and Hans, but we don’t (have) to talk about them.

 

We mostly talk about brands, clothes and celebrities. There are conflicts at work, but rarely a debate on ethnic issues.

 

We don’t talk about the riot at work. We try to focus on other things… I feel a little uncomfortable. I hope this thing can pass naturally and not affect our (office) environment… it’s been this long together at the office. We’ve formed a special bond. All I’m thinking now is whether this thing will affect that bond.

 

Q: Do you think a Uygur can really get into a “Han circle” or vice versa?

 

A: I’ve not given thought about it. I’m at a stage of mutual respect, where you have your circle, I have mine and we have a common circle in between. I respect your beliefs, your customs, your culture; you should respect mine all the same. There’re things we should do together that may need mutual assistance and learning and no conflict. That’s what I’m hoping.

 

Of course, assimilation is a trend. But you must never lose what makes you “you”. There’s got to be mutual respect.                                                                   

 

Q: What values do you think are most important for people, regardless of their ethnicity?

 

A: Honesty. It’s essential. People who weren’t born with it can’t be honest.

 

Q: Tell us about your religious beliefs.

 

A: I have beliefs. I think all people, regardless of their ethnicity, should have beliefs… I may be against (fundamentalist customs) for wearing this (a one-piece dress), and I may not have time for namaz. But I have beliefs in my heart. The government respects that belief and there aren’t restrictions.

 

Q: What were you doing on July 5 when the riot happened?

 

A: We hung out at a bar with friends, Uygur and Han, the night before when we sat, had beer and enjoyed music. I had a nightshift starting 7 pm Sunday (July 5). So I went shopping in the day. It was very quiet on the streets. I wore a mini-skirt and was wandering around Shanxi alley (a Uygur zone). I’ve been thinking that if I got to work late that day, I would’ve been beaten too. That I’m sure. Work saved me.

 

Many Uygur girls were beaten that day on Shanxi alley, just that no one died… Uygur girls of today are mostly wearing the same (fashionable clothes). And they (the rioters) beat every (Uygur) girl wore fashion… even before the (riot), Uygur girls would get cursed (for wearing fancily). I was cursed by (Uygur guys) too on the road.

 

These are the minority among our Uygur boys. They’re mostly ones blind about religion. They have limited education. Otherwise, they would’ve accurately grasped (Muslim doctrines).

 

I got to work at 6:30 pm. Two hours later, the riot broke out. Many 20-something boys, who clearly had no decent jobs, stormed the gate. I thought it was a gang fight. It wasn’t much later that I found out how serious things were.

 

Q: How has the riot affected your life?

 

A: I’m still afraid to walk outside. I’ve been taking cabs to and from work ever since. It feels a little safer seeing the armed police here, but…

 

No shopping, no dates, no entertainment, no text messages, no Internet, no even walking on the road safely. From home I go to work. From work I come home. And after all that hard work, when you come back, this (riot) is the only thing you see on TV. I feel uncomfortable.

 

Q: Try put yourself in the shoes of a Han after the riot.

 

A: I really can’t do that. I can’t put myself in the shoes of a Han person. I can’t picture it. Really… I just hope no one gets hurt.

 

Q: How do you think the ethnicities can rebuild trust after this?

 

A: Take things too seriously or arbitrarily creating a tense environment won’t help either side. I think the next step we should take is to rationally and tactfully resolve this issue and let nothing that hurts each other happen again. After all, we can’t live without each other.

 

There are bound to be psychological shadows. I hope time can wear things off as soon as possible. Let it pass, all of this, let it pass quickly.

近几日，除我社以外的国内各媒体众口一辞地宣称乌市情况已“逐渐恢复正常”，为事件的彻底平息造势。而我们此间进行的所有采访都表明，此地时局的发展趋势是恰恰相反的。

 

昨天是乌市在暴乱后度过的第一个主麻日。按伊斯兰教传统，穆斯林教民必须在这一天按时到清真寺参加聚礼，听阿訇讲窝尔兹（劝善讲演）等。然而外电在昨日早晨报道说，乌市的绝大多数清真寺外都贴上了主麻活动取消，建议教民回家自行礼拜的通知。据各外电称，做出此决定的是担忧民族矛盾会引发宗教冲突的当地政府部门。

 

新华社随后发布英文稿，援引某无名乌市政府官员，称关闭清真寺是阿訇们出于安全考虑而做出的自主选择，政府并未参与此事。该稿同时证实，乌市一些清真寺已取消当日的主麻活动。

 

新疆两千一百万人口的51%是维族。但在区首府乌鲁木齐，汉族群众占绝对多数。

 

根据我们的采访，多数清真寺的确取消了主麻活动。不过，至少是远离暴乱场所的水磨沟区六道湾的维、回两个清真寺，均正常对外开放。区伊斯兰教协会副会长买买提明·胡达拜尔地说，一千多名信众参加了在维族清真寺举行的活动。“阿訇们觉得安全不会有问题，所以这个地方是开着的，”他说。

 

在别的一些本来关闭的清真寺里，阿訇们也最终大开寺门，短平快地主持了主麻活动。重新开放清真寺、主持主麻活动是有原因的，我在昨日的稿件中已提及了此事的详细经过（容后再叙）。在最终提交的版本中，我的文章是如此开头的：

 

“在这个在暴乱中严重受损的城市里，一些清真寺在周五礼拜 – 一个对穆斯林社区来说至关重要的周度传统 – 中依然开放，或重新开放，尽管早先报道声称，在致使至少15人遇难的悲剧发生后，很多清真寺将会处于安全考虑而被关闭。”

 

然而经过我社后方编辑审校后，稿子的开头竟然变成了这样：

 

“与早先报道相反，乌鲁木齐的一些清真寺进行了必要的周五礼拜活动 – 这是一个该市在周日致使至少156人遇难的血腥暴乱发生后，正在回归正常的佐证。”

 

我抄起手机，措辞激烈地对后方编辑说，你看了我的稿子，怎么可能会得出这样的结论？这里离回归正常还很早，太早！

 

于是在今天的头版，这篇文章的开头变成了：

 

“与早先报道相反，必要的周五礼拜活动在乌鲁木齐的一些清真寺内举行。该市仍在挣扎着从7月5日致使至少156人遇难的暴乱中恢复过来。”