“Salam Aleikum,” I greeted the gentleman at the cash register at the Grand Mosque in the city of Xian, in central China. “Wa aleikum assalam!” “” he replied in Arabic. “You are Muslim. Free entry!” he said, inviting me in.
No, I am not a Muslim. I just wanted to visit the old mosque. Today it is a tourist attraction in the city, the ancient capital of China, known as “Chang’an”, or “Eternal Peace” in English.
Non-Muslims visiting the mosque must pay the equivalent of €5 to enter the place of worship, a high entrance fee in Xian.
The man at the checkout was nonetheless pleased with my greeting in Arabic, as other domestic tourists apparently only greet him in Chinese.
First mosque in the 7th century
Xian is the end point of the ancient Silk Road. Since the 7th century, under the Tang dynasty, the city was the scene of intense international trade. The Tang ruler commissioned the monk Xuanzang to bring Mahayana Buddhist texts from India to China and translate them from Sanskrit into Chinese. Buddhism, like Islam, is an import to China.
The first champions of the Muslim faith reached China by sea. Sa’d ibn Abi Waqqas, a companion of the Prophet Muhammad, met the Tang Emperor in 651 and received an imperial grant to build the country’s first mosque.
The Great Mosque of Xian, not far from the imperial residence, is also said to have been built at this time.
Arab traders also came to the city from the west via Muslim-influenced Central Asia.
They brought with them luxury goods and foreign ideas. Today, the mosque is located next to a bazaar in the middle of the Muslim quarter.
Those in power control religion
About 17 million Muslims currently live in China, according to the Washington-based think tank Pew Research. Most of them are Shiites. The largest Muslim communities are the Hui and Uighurs, each numbering just under eight million.
Like Christian churches, Muslims in China are not allowed to have direct contact with foreign countries. “Only ‘patriotic’ religious associations may operate in their official temples, churches, mosques and meeting places, subject to detailed administrative regulations. To do so, they must adapt to the socialist state,” writes the German Federal Agency for Civic Education.
China’s last remaining grand mosque with Arabic-style elements lost its domes in February, Britain’s Guardian reported. The minarets of the Shadian Mosque in southwest Yunnan province were also radically altered to adopt a Chinese architectural style.
“In Chinese history, many emperors and statesmen focused on controlling and leading the people. Therefore, they placed all religions under the supervision of the state,” said the historian and philosopher Qin Guoshang.
“They took measures to weaken the influence of divine power by suppressing heretical ideas and beliefs, introducing state-controlled religions and restricting religious activities.” It is no different in China today, Qin added.
Islam yes, but controlled
The Xian Mosque has a distinct visual appearance, setting it apart from traditional Islamic architecture.
Its defining element – the minaret – is designed like a pagoda. The prayer room also follows the traditional Chinese style.
The requirement to renovate and refurbish mosques shows how religious freedom is massively restricted in China.
In Chinese history, the demand for adaptation has always been a political demand.
According to a popular saying, for example, nine out of ten Hui people have the surname “Ma.”
The family name is common in China and dates back to the Prophet Muhammad.
For the first emperor of the Ming Dynasty, Zhu Yuanzhang (1328-1398), the surname Mu Han Mu De (Muhammad) was not Chinese enough.
He decreed that people of other faiths had to adopt Chinese surnames, marry locals, and give up their own traditional customs and costumes. This meant that the Hui had to shorten their surnames and bow to imperial power.
Adaptation of the Hui, humiliation of the Uighurs
People must adapt their beliefs to what the state allows them, as the Hui I met in Xian do. The Hui are currently one of 56 officially recognized nationalities or ethnic groups in China, but they do not differ significantly from the Han Chinese majority.
Their identity factor, their faith, has not led them to exclusion. The Hui generally maintain friendly relations with the Han Chinese, writes Frauke Drewes, who studied Islam in China at the German University of Münster until 2015.
“It can be assumed that the Hui are very close to the Han majority, closer than their coreligionists of other nationalities.”
But Uighurs, the other major Muslim group in China, are subjected to “systematic humiliation, punishment and torture,” Amnesty International says.
Beijing has set up vocational training centres in the far western Xinjiang autonomous region, where most Uighurs live, and claims to give the Muslim minority access to vocational training.
They are taught Chinese and communist ideology in these facilities, internationally regarded as internment camps. This is an attempt to eradicate religious identity, human rights groups have criticized.
The Xinjiang regional government reported in 2019 that all “vocational training students” had now “graduated” and therefore been released.
“This does not mean the end of the oppression of the Uighurs, however,” writes sinologist Björn Alpermann of the University of Würzburg for the German Federal Agency for Civic Education.
Beijing continues to “strive to assimilate ethnic minority groups and commit cultural genocide” in Xinjiang, he said, adding that the repression is invisible today.
“The roadblocks have been replaced by surveillance cameras. The goal is still to assimilate ethnic minority groups into Han Chinese and control them in all areas of life. »
According to the latest census, around 11.6 million Uighurs live in Xinjiang, alongside nearly 11 million Han Chinese.
A socially unacceptable faith
Many Uyghurs have turned their backs on their native province. They find better-paying jobs, mostly in Muslim restaurants, in China’s booming metropolitan areas.
They often live their faith in secret.
During the Muslim fasting month of Ramadan, I met a waitress from Xinjiang in Beijing’s Sanlitun bar district.
In his noodle restaurant, there was a sign on the wall in Chinese: “Consumption of food you brought yourself is prohibited! Pork is prohibited!”
It was three days before Eid. I wanted to know when the sun would set and when Muslims would be allowed to eat. She looked at me, irritated at first, then looked at her iPhone. Then she whispered in my ear: “Shh, please don’t disturb the other guests!” There are still 13 minutes until sunset. »
For the Han majority, the Chinese term “Zhai Yue”, the month of fasting, is not automatically associated with abstention from food and drink. “Yue” means month. And in a religious sense, “Zhai” superficially means “vegetarian food for Buddhists and Taoists”.
This article was originally written in German.
“Decoding China” is a DW series that examines Chinese positions and arguments on current international issues from a critical German and European perspective.