Urumqi riots catch many by surprise

URUMQI, China — A few steps past the shattered glass, warped metal and other remains of a Muslim Uighur restaurant, Ye Erkeng and his family are in hiding.

Ye, his wife, younger brother, sister-in-law, niece and mother have not ventured outside their apartment complex for three days. They have been getting by on stale bread and boiled water.

After bloody clashes between Uighur demonstrators and government security forces began Sunday in Urumqi, the capital of the far western region of Xinjiang, Ye said he did not want to risk having his family members on the streets. But about 11 p.m. Tuesday, a mob of several hundred Han Chinese carrying sticks, hammers and bricks ransacked the restaurant in front of Ye's apartment as he and his family huddled inside, praying.

"I thought if they rush into the house, we will all die," Ye said.

Ye's family is among the many in Urumqi who find themselves at an unexpected crossroads in the aftermath of this week's violence.

Terrified of their Han neighbors, but accustomed to the comforts of the city they had made their home, they must weigh the benefits of staying in a place where they no longer feel welcome or returning to a countryside where their salaries probably will be reduced by half.

On Wednesday, Ye and his wife, Mu Heti, made the painful decision to go back to the countryside of Ili in northern Xinjiang, joining an exodus of ethnic minorities out of Urumqi that has overwhelmed bus and train stations in recent days.

Before Tuesday night, Ye said, he thought the violence would pass quickly and life in Urumqi would return to normal. Ye, 40, who is Kazakh, and Mu, 36, who is Uighur, and their extended families have been in the city for eight years while he worked as a Chinese-Russian translator. The family members had settled into a life they loved.

In a good month, Ye could make as much as 3,000 yuan, or about $450, a small fortune considering his whole family had been barely able to eke out $75 a month farming sunflowers and cotton in his hometown. But their enchantment with Urumqi went further than money.

Ye had picked up the Han Chinese love of mah-jongg, a traditional game involving tiles that is similar to rummy, and had a regular competition going with friends. Mu loved to sit on the street with friends, drinking tea and watching the city's bustle.

Tensions between China's dominant Han population and those native to Xinjiang — mostly Uighurs and Kazakhs — have existed since Chinese troops rolled into Xinjiang 60 years ago. The Uighurs are a Turkic-speaking group, and the Kazakhs, concentrated on the border with Kazakhstan, are also mostly Muslim and speak their own Turkic language.

China has repeatedly said it "liberated" the population, but many Uighurs and Kazakhs complain of government policies they say are meant to wipe out their language, culture and religion in the name of assimilation.

The complaints are similar to those of Tibetans, another of China's 56 officially recognized ethnic minorities. In March 2008, Tibet erupted into protests against Chinese rule that spilled into violence.

Like the Tibetans last year, Uighurs have complained the government has practiced a double standard in how it deals with the perpetrators of violence — detaining Uighurs in large numbers, while allowing Han Chinese to go free.

The bloody riots Sunday show just how deep the mistrust between Han Chinese and other ethnic groups runs, and how quickly a seemingly minor disagreement can escalate. The violence began with a false Internet rumor about the rape of two Han women by Uighur workers. That led to a fight in a toy factory in the southern Chinese city of Shaoguan that left two Uighurs dead.

The investigation into the workers' deaths, which some Uighurs felt was inadequate, sparked a demonstration in Urumqi Sunday. The protest spun out of control as paramilitary troops fired on protesters and rioters torched cars and businesses. A number of Han Chinese bystanders said they were attacked without provocation. Two days later, violence broke out as vigilante Han groups launched retaliatory attacks on Uighurs.

The Chinese government has said that the situation in Urumqi is now under control. But it will take much longer to repair the psychological damage the ethnically charged violence has wrought on local residents.

The five-story complex where Ye and Mu live — complete with its leaks, cracked cement and creaky doors — earlier housed 100 Uighur and Kazakh residents, who had come to Urumqi in search of a better life. Now all but 25 are gone. They have fled to parts of Xinjiang where Hans are fewer in number. Still, Ye has compassion for his Han neighbors.

"It isn't just us who are scared of what's going on. Han are also scared," Ye said. On Tuesday night, he welcomed several Han women who needed refuge from the mob-fueled violence. As it turned out, everyone inside got lucky. The attackers moved on.