Xia stated that several details of the violence were kept from the public in order to preserve broader social harmony, while Xinhua journalists reported sensitive information directly to the government. This included the rioters’ organized and deliberate burning of buses full of people, the decapitation of a child and display of his head on a highway overpass, the humiliation of a dead woman, and other acts of brutality. We have no way of verifying this at this time.

More revealing to me is Xia’s casual remark that the rioters seen in the photographs were tattooed and bare-chested, that they “had nothing.” Is this an interpretation of ethnic violence through the eyes of class conflict? Is it an accurate assessment of the Uyghurs who took to the streets? Many young Uyghur men have tattoos that they grow ashamed of later in life, since they represent the excesses of a more reckless youth, though I, for one, have never learned the secrets of any of these marks. The causes and the unfolding of the riots remain a mystery, but perhaps this is a clue.

Two days before rioting broke out over Xinjiang, I hopped a plane bound for Kashgar. I got stuck a little in Urumqi, but made it to Kashgar eventually. The events below record my adventure as you can call it, being stuck in the middle of the chaos in what basically became a police state for three days (and remains so today).

When I arrived in Kashgar, it was “business as usual”: Uyghurs being Uyghurs, i.e. speaking their Turkic language, praying five times a day, and living in and around the Old City. Of course, I was disappointed by the Chinese-built shopping malls, massive highways, and blatant destruction of Uyghur cultural sites (including tombs) and discrimination against the Uyghurs. There are signs everywhere in Chinese reading: “Follow the Communist Party for 10000 years.” “Give up superstition, embrace science, embrace modernity.” “The many peoples of China are one: Hate Separatism from the Motherland.” It’s not a good feeling entering the city.

But a cab drive away (one cab drive too long) and I was basically back in the Middle East. It felt like home. Kebabs everywhere. Hummus, tabouli, green tea with mint. The Old City was “heartening” if tragic… bulldozers, bulldozers, bulldozers. I saw a few mosques come down, probably a few hundred years old each.

Kashgar of course was magical… what was left. I went to centuries-old mosques with sublime Central Asian architecture. I went to “state approved official” tombs and got an “official” tour of the “official Old City.” (This is the 15% of the Old City that the government has decided not to destroy. What’s the catch: No one lives there. They hire actors to dress up as “traditional” Uyghurs for six hours a day.) They smile and proudly display pictures of the Chinese flag. This is the only part of the Old City that Western journalists are allowed to photograph. I got some pictures of the “unofficial” Old City, which was absolutely marvelous. I also went to the Sunday Market and the Livestock Market. I was offered a few camels for a good price, but very sadly I was unable to accept.

I met some reporters in the Old City from the West, but most of them were being followed and having their cameras taken away from them. What I saw was a Uyghur population in Kashgar feeling that they faced the immediate destruction of their cultural and historical heritage. Families were being evacuated from their homes. I honestly have no idea why they would even let Westerners in the city to see this. I still have no idea why they didn’t make me leave.

Waking up the second morning, I heard on the Chinese news that “terrorists” had struck the capital in Urumqi and that their goal was to divide the Motherland. I thought nothing of it honestly, until I went outside. Within about two hours, the city of Kashgar was filled with soldiers and riot police pouring into the “Uyghur” part of town. The internet had been completely cut, along with my phone. I was unable to have any contact with the outside world. But it seemed OK. I again just thought it was policy. When I went out for dinner that night, I saw the authorities arresting people, including old men.

The next day martial law came. The Uyghurs gathered in the Id Kah Mosque to protest the arrests, as well as the destruction of their city, etc. I was pretty close to the Id Kah Mosque. I heard the loud sounds, the screams, and honestly, the screams of people in great physical suffering. There was a stampede, and I knocked over a bunch of watermelons but got back to the hotel (the merchant didn’t hold it against me). The army marched in and all the Uyghur shops in the city were told that they would close for three days (the Chinese of the city were either leaving or behind locked doors). All the mosques were closed and the Uyghurs were clearly scared. Trucks with loudspeakers circled around the Old City, proclaiming: “Always listen to the Communist Party. Hate separation.” The Chinese news interviewed Uyghur women who happily said things like “Xinjiang has always been part of China for 2000 years. Uyghurs are Chinese, one of 55 minority groups. We hate independence and love the motherland.”

The police were just kind of amazed I was there, which is probably why they didn’t make me leave. One happily asked me if I had been to Shanghai yet. God. I asked a police officer what he thought of the situation, and he was optimistic, said that everything was going to be fine. He concluded by saying, “You know, in the next ten years, we’ll just send more Han here and that’ll just end the problem once and for all.”

Kashgar was amazing, and I’m glad I went. I wouldn’t tell anyone else to go to Kashgar in the future though, because I know that the Old City is going to be gone before next Christmas. Uyghur culture and Uyghur language are beautiful to hear and study, as all things become as they slowly disappear.

According to Xinhua, yesterday’s riots in Urumqi resulted in 140 deaths and 828 injured. The death toll is “expected to rise.” When Americans went to bed last night, the death toll was three, including two bystanders and one member of the riot police. Xinhua reports that the rapid rise is due to the recovery of some 57 bodies from the streets of Urumqi and the death of many of the injured at area hospitals. The Wall Street Journal reports a more conservative 20 to 30, but it is unclear when they received that figure.

The international Uyghur community has offered an alternative explanation, suggesting that Chinese riot police were shooting into the crowds.

It is difficult to judge the truth of the situation at this time. I would note that last year’s Lhasa riots, which went on for days, resulted in an official death toll of 22.

Xinhua reports that hundreds of suspected demonstrators have been arrested. It is not unreasonable to suggest that some have died in police custody.

Travel restrictions imposed last night have continued through several parts of southern Urumqi, as well as the nearby cities of Changji and Turpan.

The map below shows where riots and destruction have been reported, as well as two of the streets where travel restrictions have still been imposed. This should give a sense of where the actions occurred.

View Urumchi Protests, 5 July 2009 in a larger map

The official response to these incidents has been trite and out of touch. Xinjiang Chairman Nur Bekri’s speech yesterday blamed the riots on the “three forces” of terrorism, separatism, and extremism and on the influence of outside organizations, in particular Rebiya Kadeer and the Uyghur World Congress. While the government seems to acknowledge the role of the 26 June incident in Shaoguan, Guangdong in inciting Uyghurs to action, it has refused once again to publicly face up to real social, economic, and political problems that face Xinjiang and its people. Instead, Nur Bekri, who just three days ago announced the first cellular phone capable of texting in Uyghur, provided a panicked public with a polemic about “ethnic unity” and “development” reminiscent of Hu Jintao’s “Eight Goods and Eight Bads” or perhaps Bobby Jindal’s response to the State of the Union Address. Informing people that “doing ethnic unity well” will lead to “development” and that this is “good” – and that “when ethnic unity is destroyed,” it will “not lead to development” and that this is “bad” – presents the poor, hungry, scared, and angry with an abstract ideological syllogism stocked with several variable and abstract concepts. You can’t eat ethnic unity.

The moment a protest turns violent, it loses its ability to affect institutional change. It is very unfortunate for the rights of Uyghurs and others that this protest, which appears to have begun peacefully, ended in this much destruction. To me, this demonstrates once again that Uyghurs have no voice of their own in the Chinese government. Nur Bekri is the head of a region, not of a people, and very loyal to the PRC. There is a large body of Uyghur intellectuals capable of articulating a mobilizing ideology, but no framework for their organization. This is partly due to preexisting conditions of Xinjiang’s history and social organization and partly due to the PRC government’s quashing of any independent social movements.

There is frequent coverage of this incident in the international media today.

Sources:

6 July 2009, Xinhua: 新疆维吾尔自治区主席努尔•白克力谈乌鲁木齐打砸抢烧严重暴力犯罪事件

6 July 2009, Xinhua: Commentary: Riot a catastrophe for Xinjiang

6 July 2009, Xinhua: Death toll in Xinjiang riot rises to 140

6 July 2009, Xinhua: Order partially restored in violence-plagued Urumqi, situation still tense

6 July 2009, BBC: Scores killed in China protests

6 July 2009, Wall Street Journal: Muslim Minority Riots Erupt in China’s West

In the video above, you can see a youth smashing the window of a donkey meat restaurant. The Uyghur-run Arman grocery store next door, however, is untouched. I am pretty sure this Döngköwrük/Erdaoqiao.

Here, demonstrators make their through the Döngköwrük/Erdaoqiao neighborhood, blocking traffic on one side of the road. They look remarkably organized, and I wonder who is at the vanguard. They may be holding a banner. You can see a couple of people rushing across the opposite lane to join the march. This doesn’t look like thousands of people.

In this video, you can see police action taking place on a side alley. There may be demonstrators down there, too. The action is taking place in a city block on South Liberation Street (解放南路), about here:

View Protests in Urumchi City Block in a larger map

Locals are posting videos to YouKu, but have mostly been quickly “harmonized” and taken down.

View several photos of the violence in Urumqi today here.

Babur Mexsut is known to the Swedish and world Uyghur community as a loyal member of the movement. He was arrested, in fact, shortly after returning from a meeting of the World Uyghur Congress (Dunya Uyghur Quriltiyi) in Washington, DC, where he was a guest. Babur Mexsut appears in photographs that show him at rallies holding the blue-and-white East Turkestani flag. Radio Free Asia, which has based its research on rumors from the Uyghur community and interviews with some of its members, that Babur Mexsut is a long-time friend of several prominent members of the Congress. Dilshat Rishit, a frequent spokesman for the World Uyghur Congress who traveled with Babur to Washington, DC, described him as a typical older gentleman, very friendly and welcoming, who acted his age. Babur, said Dilshat Rishit, had never mentioned anything to him about working for the PRC and made comments to him about his desire to work more for the Uyghur cause during his retirement.

According to several individuals interviewed by Radio Free Asia, however, Babur was not above suspicion. Maynur, the head of the Swedish Uyghur Organization, was the first to reveal Babur Mexsut’s identity publicly. She expressed feelings of relief at the vindication of her community’s long-held suspicions of Babur. Maynur urged patience, however, on the part of the world Uyghur community.

More damning is the testimonial of Abdurishit Haji Kerimi, an old acquaintance of Babur, whom he met in Kashgar in the 1990s. According to Kerimi, Babur disappeared the day after the conference. Later, Babur borrowed Kerimi’s cellular phone, as his own was not working, to make several calls. When Kerimi inspected the numbers Babur had dialed, he found several calls to China and to Urumchi, as well as some to the very Chinese embassy in Washington, DC in front of which they had been protesting.

Radio Free Asia has been especially aggressive in seeking out evidence against Babur Mexsut’s character, as well as of the crimes of which he is accused. RFA journalists seem to be looking for any evidence of deviance in Babur’s behavior during the conference. On 19 June, RFA revealed, that Rabiye Kadeer refused Babur’s offer of a donation of 100
000 Euros. The organization also contacted several very old acquaintances of Babur, now living abroad. Their interviews, together with information offered by Kerimi, give us a sense of Babur Mexsut’s biography, albeit one in an unflattering light. The following depicts Babur as a lifelong outsider, just the sort of lonely young man who finds his home with the state.

Babur Mexsut, one of ten children, was born in 1948 in Lanzhou, the son of a Uyghur fruit seller from Kashgar and a Hui (Dungan) woman from Lanzhou. Although his father was poorly-educated, he was of Turkic nationalist inclinations. Soon after Babur was born, the family moved with a group of Uyghurs to Tianjin, where Babur was raised. Babur Mexsut was educated in Chinese and spoke little to no Uyghur, a language he has apparently not grasped fully to this day. (In this light, the early suggestion by RFA that the accused spy was a Uyghur with fluent Chinese may have already identified him to the community.) He kept his distance from other children, preferring the company of adults. In 1969, when Babur was 21, his father, in his sixties, moved the family to Khotan. Babur, it seems, followed in his father’s footsteps, mostly engaging in light trade. When he met Kerimi in Kashgar, he still spoke mostly in Chinese. Eventually, in 1997, Babur made his way to Tashkent, Uzbekistan, whence he moved to Sweden. His younger sister, it seems, wanted to move from Xinjiang to Sweden to live with him, a plan he rejected. Babur apparently resembles his father.

Babur Mexsut’s court date has been rescheduled for 2 July, partly because this is an international problem and partly because it has been difficult to find a lawyer.

Investigations into the accusations of espionage have prompted Sweden to expel one Chinese diplomat. In response, the PRC has expelled a member of the Swedish embassy staff. Neither country has officially confirmed this. The Swedish spokesman, in response to a question from Agence France Presse, did confirm that there had been mutual expulsions, but would not confirm with which country. Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesman Qin Gang, when questioned by another AFP journalist, pretended to have no idea what the reporter was talking about.

Sources:

18 June 2009 (Radio Free Asia) ﺷﯟﯦﺘﺴﯩﻴﯩﺪﯨﻜﻰ ﺋﯘﻳﻐﯘﺭ ﺟﺎﺳﯘﺱ ﮔﯘﻣﺎﻧﺪﺍﺭﯨﻨﯩﯔ ﺋﯩﺴﻤﻰ ﺋﺎﺷﻜﺎﺭﯨﻼﻧﺪﻯ

18 June 2009 (Radio Free Asia) ﺟﺎﺳﯘﺱ ﮔﯘﻣﺎﻧﺪﺍﺭﻯ ﺑﺎﺑﯘﺭ ﻣﻪﺧﺴﯘﺕ ﻫﻪﻗﻘﯩﺪﻩ ﻣﻪﻟﯘﻣﺎﺗﻼﺭ 1

22 June 2009 (Radio Free Asia) ﺟﺎﺳﯘﺱ ﮔﯘﻣﺎﻧﺪﺍﺭﻯ ﺑﺎﺑﯘﺭ ﻣﻪﺧﺴﯘﺕ ﻫﻪﻗﻘﯩﺪﻩ ﻣﻪﻟﯘﻣﺎﺗﻼﺭ 2

22 June 2009 (Radio Free Asia) ﺟﺎﺳﯘﺱ ﮔﯘﻣﺎﻧﺪﺍﺭﻯ ﺑﺎﺑﯘﺭ ﻣﻪﺧﺴﯘﺕ ﺭﺍﺑﯩﻴﻪ ﻗﺎﺩﯨﺮ ﺧﺎﻧﯩﻤﻐﺎ 100 ﻣﯩﯔ ﻳﺎﯞﺭﻭ ﻳﺎﺭﺩﻩﻡ ﺗﻪﻛﻠﯩﭙﻰ ﺳﯘﻧﻐﺎﻥ

22 June 2009 (Radio Free Asia) ﺷﯟﯦﺘﺴﯩﻴﻪ ‘ ﺑﺎﺑﯘﺭ ﺟﺎﺳﯘﺳﻠﯘﻕ ﯞﻩﻗﻪﺳﻰ’ ﮔﻪ ﭼﯧﺘﯩﺸﻠﯩﻖ ﺧﯩﺘﺎﻱ ﺩﯨﭙﻠﻮﻣﺎﺗﯩﻨﻰ ﭼﯩﮕﺮﯨﺪﯨﻦ ﻗﻮﻏﻼﭖ ﭼﯩﻘﺎﺭﻏﺎﻥ

22 June 2009 (The Local) Sweden Expels Chinese Diplomat: Report

24 June 2009 (联合报网) 传瑞典驱逐 涉谍报中国外交官 中国以牙还牙

24 June 2009 (Sina) 瑞典被指驅逐中國外交官

This landmark ruling follows a June decision by the Supreme Court allowing federal judges to review the cases of Guantanamo detainees. The Bush administration is fighting the ruling through the Department of Justice and continues to assert that the Uyghur detainees pose a threat to the United States as members of the possibly-fictional terrorist organization, the East Turkestan Islamic Movement (ETIM), which the US recognized as a terrorist group only after the men were imprisoned. One week ago, however, in light of the continued lack of evidence for the charges on which they are held, all of the detainees in question were stripped of their status as enemy combatants. The decision to release or to continue holding the Uyghurs was itself a straightforward legal matter.

Now, the men and the United States are faced with the question of where they can or will go. Some of the detainees had families in Xinjiang with whom they have been unable to communicate since the beginning of their confinement – most have given up on returning. Members of the Uyghur community in the Washington, DC area have pledged to take them in. However, the Bush administration is expected to fight their final release to US soil, allowing the men to linger further in a “special” housing facility.

Sources:

MSNBC: “Judge: Let Chinese Muslims in Gitmo into U.S.”

Radio Free Asia: “Gu’antanamoda tutup turuluwatqan Uyghur mähbuslar Amerikigha qoyup berilishi mumkin”

CNN: “Judge orders Chinese Muslims freed from Gitmo”

Bloomberg: “Chinese Muslims must be released in U.S., judge says”

Washington Post: “Uighur detainees may be released to U.S.”

The pictures themselves were somewhat of a mystery. On one hand, they verified both the existence and the viciousness of the attack, but on the other hand, the pictures were given no context – who had taken them? Why were they released now? Or allowed to be released, given the tight security and scrutiny that always follows attacks of this nature in China? Blurry, taken from afar, the three pictures hinted of amateur journalism, snapped surreptitiously by an unrelated party who just happened to be in the right (or wrong?) place at the right time.

The on-the-spot photographer has now stepped forward to The New York Times, not only confirming that the photos were examples of citizen journalism that slipped passed the censors, but also revealing himself to be a tourist foreigner – guessing from his accent on the accompanying audio clip/slideshow, an American or a Canadian. Furthermore, the original 3 photos have now been expanded to 27.

Now this is totally out of left field. Let’s take a look at the some of the newer photos and the exhilarating new eyewitness testimony.

The photographer along with another two eyewitnesses were staying in a room at the Barony Hotel conveniently across the street from where the incident occured – a place actually mentioned in the recently discussed China Daily article (“Only the rich stays in Barony,” said a staffer at the Yijin. “A single room there costs 580 yuan per night.” — go figure!). They were alerted to the attack by the loud crash that occurred when the dump truck slammed into a light pole in front of the Yijin hotel.

The photographer said that the truck then hit a telephone or power pole and slammed into the front of the other hotel, the Yiquan, across the street. A man wearing a white short-sleeve shirt tumbled from the driver’s side, he said.

“He was pretty injured,” the photographer said. “He fell onto the ground after opening the door. He wasn’t getting up. He was crawling around for four or five seconds.”

Here we have an eyewitness ID on one of the people to emerge from the truck – severely injured and wearing a white short-sleeve shirt. Let’s keep this in mind. The photographer goes to get his two companions, and so leaves the scene unattended for a short period of time during which this fellow – the driver – disappears from the scene. Now here’s where things get really funky:

“A lot of confusion came when two gentlemen, it looked like they were military officers — they were wearing military uniforms, too — and it looked like they were hitting other military people on the ground with machetes,” the friend said.

“That instantly confused us,” he said. “All three of us were wondering: ‘Why are they hitting other military people?’ ”

Woah, woah woah. And that was the reaction of the photographer, who decided at this point that this was something big and should be photographed. In some of the initial photos we do indeed see a scuffle that appears to involve mostly uniformed individuals – though the view is obscured and blurry.

The eyewitnesses seem pretty certain that the people wielding machetes were uniformed, and the people that they were attacking were also uniformed. This throws up some confusion and suspicion should we believe that one individual who exited the truck was not in uniform and was not mobile after the crash.

Next, the witnesses describe two individuals who appear to have been detained and cuffed:

The photographer said that there had been two men in green uniforms on their knees facing his hotel and their hands seemed to be bound behind their backs. Another uniformed man began hitting one of them with a machete, he said.

After being hit several times by the machete, the uniformed man fell down, and at least one other police officer came over to kick him, the relative said.

Wong, the New York Times reporter, takes time to point out some slight discrepencies between the 3 individuals’ accounts – one says the two detained individuals were prostrate and were being beaten, whereas another claimed an officer walking away from the wreck was attacked by another officer wielding a machete, and a fight between the two ensued.

The key here is that according to eye witnesses fighting ensued between individuals in uniform. So obviously it is no stretch of the imagination that the wily attackers themselves were dressed as paramilitary officers to further confusion after the initial assault. Nor would it be surprising to see officers using machetes to attack detained, bound individuals – this could possibly be an officer understandably venting his fury against the perpetrators using their own weapons. There also is, of course, the third factor of the unreliable of eyewitness accounts, which among the three witnesses already contain significant divergences.

Then there is a question of the machetes. Who brought them, and who used them against who? Other photos provide a clear view of at least two machetes used in some capacity during the attack.

At some point in time the machetes fell into the hands of the officers – that is, if they weren’t the ones who deployed them at the scene in the first place.

It became clear to the tourists that the men with machetes were almost certainly paramilitary officers, and not insurgents, because they mingled freely with other officers on the scene.

Again, there are a number of possibilities that we cannot distil further barring a personal interview with the eyewitnesses, or, better yet, a video of the incident. It’s possible that some of the officers were drilling with machetes and used them in defense against whoever hit them with the truck – after all, witnesses spotted a rifle with a bayonet at the scene, visible in the second photograph above, which Wong notes is rather bizarre but I could easily imagine being used as equipment for training and drilling, and machetes could’ve been there in the same capacity. Again there is the possibility of the machetes being quickly confiscated from the attackers and eventually being used against them.

Then, according to the NYT article, the police focused on clearing witnesses, two of whom we can see in this picture, both Uyghurs (I’m guessing from the dress – there’s also a small possibility that the woman at the top is Hui).

It’s kind of weird how normal the scene is. Except, of course, the shellshocked police officer crossing the street. Anyways, after this, the inevtiable occured and the police did a sweep of the hotel the eyewitnesses were staying in. Miraculously, the photos were not confiscated, though on second thought, Xinjiang police officers not being meticulous is perhaps more mundane than miraculous.

So what do we take from this? First of all, before I unleash an idignant torrent of comments, I make very clear my understanding of how unreliable eyewitness accounts can be, even with pictures. I was actually alerted to this story by a defense attorney acquaintance of mine who I know would do an impeccable job undercutting any attempt to deploy any sort of eyewitness account plus blurry picture combo in court. Despite the framework we are provided by the three eyewitnesses and the pictures, as mediated by Edward Wong of the New York Times (who chose what to include and what not to include), we are still left with ambiguous, blurry, and conflicting descriptions which do little to clarify what actually happened that day.

Nonetheless, I feel that the value of these photos are ironically rooted in the added pall of confusion and uncertainty they cast over events that day. They may not weave a precise story without any doubt or confusion – but there is such a precise, and tight-knight account of events out there, and that is the official account provided by the state – nothing less than a clash of good and evil, between plotting, explosives-wielding Uyghur attackers on one hand, representing terrorism, separatism, and extremism, and the good, righteous armed police on the other. The power of these new factors is variable. At the very least, it throws into question the use of explosives at the site and also adds a period of retaliation during which police officers wielded machetes against the perpetrators – understandbly so. At most, the account could present a challenge to the backgrounds and motivations of the attackers themselves and cast the state’s portrayal of the event into a far more cynical light.

“This city is very much coming back alive again from that horrible disaster last month,” said Nico Rodriguez, an American who has been in Kashgar since June. “It’s like nothing ever happened.”

Two of the biggest signs of the return to normalcy, according to Hu, are the worshippers gathering together at the Id Kah Mosque to observe Ramadan and the reopening of the hotel which at times has been called the Yiquan Hotel (怡全宾馆) and at other times has been dubbed the similarly written Yijin Hotel (怡金宾馆) – Hu decided to go with the later. This two outward signs of improvement apparently intersect in that the hotel has “re-opened for the Muslim holy month of Ramadan,” to provide lodging for the religious flocking to various pilgrimage sites in and around Kashgar.

Muslims walk out of the Id Kah Mosque after afternoon prayers
during the Muslim holy month of Ramadan in Kashgar, Xinjiang. (Hu Yinan)

“Most of our guests are Uygurs, so we only have Uygur signs in our rooms. We’re doing fine, only that tourism here has been bad in general because of the violence this year,” a Yijin staff member told China Daily. “But the degree of tension has been exaggerated by outside media. I’ve been in Kashgar for more than 40 years; people get along here just like they do elsewhere.”

Keeping in mind that this is an English language article and is more likely written with foreign audiences in mind, one cannot help but sense that much of it is designed to obliquely address numerous ongoing claims that there is a Ramadan crackdown being implemented in response to the attacks. Hu emphasizes that part and parcel with the “return to normalcy” are Uyghurs taking part, unhindered and voluntarily, in the discipline demanded of them during Ramadan. The basis for claims of a Ramadan crackdown have been various township and village level government websites that made the political faux-pas of making regulations publically viewable online, and after the news hit the Western press, indeed some of these townships took the regulations off their site, but so far it seems that the Kashgar government has not at least publicly discussed Ramadan regulations, and so the actual extent of Ramadan restrictions throughout Xinjiang remains unknown. Interestingly, Hu decided to throw in the example of an unobservant Muslim into his article:

Traditionally, Kashgar restaurants close during the day for Ramadan. Some were closed; others remained open for business, serving lamb kebabs, fruits and tea throughout the day.

When asked about Ramadan dietary restrictions, a veiled female Uygur shopkeeper, who was eating sunflower seeds on a lazy afternoon, pounded on her husband’s chest and said: “It’s in there!”

“Why need it here?” she said in broken Mandarin while pointing at her own mouth.

Perhaps implying that if any Uyghurs are not observing Ramadan or if any Uyghur restaurants are remaining open, it’s on their own decision. Maybe readers from Kashgar can comment on the restaurant situation there; in Urumqi, Uyghur restaurants are staying open but have notably fewer patrons during the day and become very crowded after sunset.

Naturally, Uyghur testimony plays a big role on any commentary on the atmosphere in Kashgar.

Guli, a 19-year-old from Kashgar’s Bachu county, is aware that there have been heightened security measures, but they hardly affect her. “I don’t feel them. Young people like us don’t normally observe the fast anyway; only the older generation does, and I don’t see how they can be prevented from doing so,” she said.

“Why should I (be afraid)?” she continued. “You know what terror is? Terror is the bad thing that happens when you least expect it to. What happens around the clock is called life, not terror.”

“There is little feeling of terror here, unless you want to feel it. We’re just living the same old lives, ” she added.

Nurlan, a 56 year-old Muslim taxi driver, said the August bombing is the most brutal attack he has yet seen, and that such tragedies will not be replicated. “I observe the fast. We all follow the Holy Scriptures here, so you always have many more good people than bad,” he said.

“I think Kashgar is safe – safer than most places, and definitely those to the west of us. Whatever other people may say, nothing can destroy our lives,” he said.

Though, as is normally the case with studying Xinjiang, we can only see tiny bits of the big picture and must speculate what’s going on in between, because as long as we’re working with media coverage, for every Uyghur who says one thing, you can find a Uyghur who says something else. I do, however, see the logic in Nurlan’s observation that Xinjiang is probably much safer than “those to the west of us,” probably referring to the Central Asian states who are having a tougher time dealing with transnational religious movements. Nonetheless, in spite of Nurlan’s commentary, the government does see it fit every now and then to point out that that which happens in Central Asia also could very likely come to Xinjiang (if it already hasn’t).

I also respect the power of Nurlan’s observation that “Whatever other people may say, nothing can destroy our lives.” I believe a statement such as this not only rings true in general but also is a neutral statement that doesn’t necessarily take either side of the Xinjiang unrest.

Also:

But the ethnically Han owner of the Yijin, who asked that her name not be used, is undeterred. “I know they are not against us,” she said.

Spot the irony? Not a single of the Han Chinese interviewed for the article are named, though the American and Uyghur sources are.

There are, however, a few details about the latest incident which has caught my attention. First of all is the surprising and most obvious detail of violence by Uyghurs against Uyghurs. This situation is gaining new dimensions… or perhaps it is more appropriate to say that the conflict has always been far more nuanced than the “simmering Uyghurs” summary that is most often put forward by Western media outlets touching base with the region. The fact of the matter is, the Uyghurs’ involvement in Han develoment/colonization on one hand and East Turkestan freedom fighting/terrorism on the other hand is far from black and white. In an area is remote as this one we can expect both a strong anti-Han sentiment, as rural areas tend to be predominantly Uyghur and mostly more traditional, and a local party/government structure that is mostly Uyghur, since, well, there are less Han around to run things. So we see loyal Uyghur police officers falling in the line of duty, and who I believe inevitably will be put forward by the CCP as model minorities and to further reinforce the “extremists on the fringes” model of Uyghur discontent. But we also see this interest quote from the RFA article:

“After the Yamanya incident, we organized large public gatherings and asked people to help us find the suspects. We also said we would offer a 50,000-yuan reward to anyone who helped. But still nobody has come forward,” Omerjan said.

The Uyghur authorities in the region, representing the government and the party, was asking for help to resolve the Yamanya incident. But nobody stepped forward – this is a big deal. The silence is a form of support for what happened. And the support for the recent violence goes beyond tacit agreement – individuals of all stripes, from the young, female Anargul, to the presumably older community leader and cleric Shukur (who was apprehended earlier) are actively pitching in, in either the violence itself, which seems to be the case with Anargul, or sheltering and aiding the vigilantes like Shukur. Inadvertently, and thanks to the efforts of the RFA, the attacks are giving us a tiny, fleeting opportunity to see how Uyghurs can and do get directly or peripherally involved with this new type of violent, proactive resistance that has come out in recent weeks.

But again, its never that simple, and the agreement and support of action against the government is obviously not total as the reason the police were searching the field was they were tipped off, and although I’m certain there may well be Han families in the area, statistically and realistically speaking it was probably a Uyghur who called in. And this introduces the contrasting realization that some Uyghurs are willing to fight in the other direction – for what reasons, we cannot know now, but it could either be out of patriotism towards the CCP, or the more sinister (and in my opinion more likely) possibility that in Xinjiang a system of incentives and punishments is creating an “informant” environment among the Uyghurs.

And finally, although there is undeniably a trend of rising violence that cannot be ignored, the most recent violence in some ways adds more conviction to my belief that the spree of attacks are situational and comparatively crude rather than an indicator of suddenly cascading discontent and of increasing sophistication/international involvement. I mentioned in my thoughts on the Yamanya attack that it can be legitimately suspected that the attackers were pressured, in that situation and in that moment, to attack the inspectors because of something they were hiding, either on their person or in their thoughts. Similarly, this latest violence wasn’t a sophisticated, Al-Qaeda style attack that was planned and sends a deep ideological message of intimidation, rather, this was the inevitable result of fugitives doing what they do when they get cornered – they attack, and its both savage and uncoordinated. It seems that Anargul’s middle-aged mother and young son were hiding in the fields that day as well.

As usual, Xinjiang watchers must continue to play “wait and see,” forced to deal with only ephemeral glimpses into the reality in the area – but I definitely feel that in this situation we’ve been given a window much bigger than the glimpses we’re usually handed.