Uighur merchant Obul Kasim carries emotional scars from his confrontation with an unbending government after he failed to save his 100-year-old mud-brick home from demolition, a victim of the urban renewal marching across the historic Silk Road.
When he refused to leave his Kashgar home in the far western region of Xinjiang in 2004, police handcuffed him and took him to the local station. In 2005 and 2007, he traveled to Beijing to seek redress over what he saw as inadequate compensation, but was rounded up by provincial officials both times.
The issues are jarringly familiar.
Kasim’s grievance is probably the most common complaint across China, but the issue takes on new ramifications in Xinjiang, where demolitions are linked by experts to attempts to eliminate the identity of Uighurs, a Turkic Muslim minority.
Uighurs make up one of the country’s most discontented minorities, resentful of the ruling Chinese Communist Party and the country’s majority Han Chinese.
“Every time I think about my housing problem, I’m so angry I can’t sit,” said Kasim, his brown eyes flashing. “No department has listened to me. My father was so angry because of this, he passed away of a heart attack.”
Kasim, who sells embroidered skullcaps near Kashgar’s Id Kah mosque, China’s largest, said he would return to Beijing to petition after the Muslim holy month of Ramadan, though he does not expect much.
The local government offered him compensation of US$73 per square meter for his 510m2 home. High-rise apartments are now worth US$4,670 per square meter.
“A very large source of discontent is land dispossession,” Tom Cliff, a graduate student at the Australian National University who spent more than three years in Xinjiang, said in e-mailed comments. “Many Uighurs see this as their land being taken away from them with inadequate compensation and no recourse to the law.”
Gopuk Haji, a 97-year-old doctor of traditional medicine, said the government gave him a house of 80m2, even though his previous mud-brick home was 100m2. He dismissed as paltry compensation of US$1,495.
“A real communist party must help the people,” he said. “This communist party is fake. They are only using money to line their pockets.”
Sporting a long, wispy white beard and flowing white shirt, Haji said China’s former leaders Mao Zedong (毛澤東) and Zhou Enlai (周恩來) were good people. “Now the people are all bad. They are all corrupt. If you don’t have money here, you don’t have power.”
Demolitions proceed at a furious pace across the flat, parched region around Kashgar, designated as a“special economic zone” on the Silk Road trade route linking China and Europe.
Heaps of earth and bricks dot residential quarters, while workers lay foundations for drab, modern high-rise apartments. Men in skull caps whack a camel on a dusty street as skyscrapers loom in the distance. The adobe homes with wooden doors in winding red-dirt lanes were once hailed as the best surviving example of Central Asian architecture.
Ignoring protests from preservationists, the government in 2008 razed most of Kashgar’s old city, destroying 80 percent of the mud-brick houses to build “earthquake-resistant housing.”
Managing the Uighurs has been one of the Communist Party’s biggest challenges. Tensions erupted into violent clashes between Han Chinese and Uighurs that killed nearly 200 people in the regional capital Urumqi in July 2009.