Berkley Center

Article 36 of the Constitution of the People’s Republic of China guarantees that “the state protects normal religious activities.” Normal, of course, is a matter of interpretation. The only explicit conditions Article 36 places on religious activity are that “no one may make use of religion to engage in activities that disrupt the public order, impair the health of citizens or interfere with the educational system of the state” and that “religious bodies and affairs are not subject to foreign domination.” But even these conditions are subject to interpretation by party officials, and thus the level of religious freedom for China’s people varies across the country. In this letter, I want to share my contention, based on my observations of life in China, that the extent to which Chinese Muslims enjoy freedom to practice their faith is directly related to the different ethnic identities of these Muslims.

On one end of the spectrum are the Hui, who are primarily located in the north-central area of China, though they are found across the country, and there are pockets of them in Kunming, where I am spending my semester. As with any group of people, it is dangerous to make blanket observations about the Hui; for instance, among my closest Hui friends one wants to be an imam, while the other wants to be a pop star. Such differences withstanding, Hui are notable for being Muslims who share many things with non-Muslim Han Chinese, including language and, to an extent, appearance. My Hui friends tell me that they are quite happy to be a part of China, and that the government, far from restricting their religious expression, has in fact been active in the rebuilding of many mosques in the Yinchuan area. One such mosque that I visited has a visitors' center which contains many photos of Arab dignitaries visiting the reconstructed building and making approving comments about China's openness. Because the Hui are loyal citizens, the Chinese government has enacted more liberal policies towards this “model Muslim minority” and shows them off to the rest of the world as an example of Chinese benevolence. 

The Uighurs of Xinjiang, one could say, have hosted considerably fewer visitors from Saudi Arabia and often suffer from unfavorable comparisons with the Hui. (There is some amount of bad blood between the two groups; Hui accuse the Uighurs of giving all Muslims a bad name, and Uighurs derogatorily refer to the Hui as "watermelons," signifying a communist core despite an Islamic appearance.) Unlike the Hui, the Uighurs speak Uighur, not Chinese, and can look almost European at times. Despite Beijing’s claims to the contrary, the Uighurs and Xinjiang have been, through history, outside Chinese control, and many to this day desire independence. Since the beginning of the War on Terror, Beijing has enacted increasingly harsh measures to stamp out Uighur “terrorists” in Xinjiang, and Islam has become a key battlefield. Concerned that the Uighurs might link up with Islamic extremist groups in nearby Pakistan or Afghanistan, Beijing has sought to limit Islamic expression among the Uighur community. 

One of the most telling things I've seen in my time in China was a sign in a rural Uighur elementary school, sandwiched between pictures of Marx and Mao, which commanded children not to participate in “religious superstition.” And such is the life of my generation of Uighurs, who are at every turn discouraged from religious participation; I have heard many stories of discrimination against those who have chosen to pray at the mosque, both children and adults. The net effect on the Uighurs, whose identity is (to many) intimately linked with Islam, has been disheartening. "Look at my people," one Uighur friend told me. "They have no hope. They have no joy." 

Muslims are fewer in Kunming than in Ningxia or Xinjiang, but ascertaining their place on the spectrum of religious freedom will be one of my tasks for the semester. I suspect that the answer will again be found in their ethnic identity and the extent to which Beijing views them as a threat to stability. For stability is, of course, the central creed of China's leaders, defended and pursued with something not unlike religious zealotry.