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							The 
							Independent  | 
                         
                        
                          | 
                          April 
							5, 2013 | 
                         
                        
                          | 
                          By 
							Isobel Yueng -- A Chinese and reporter of China's 
							official news CCTV | 
                         
                        
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                  The 'tyrant China strikes 
					again' line isn't always applicable. We need more 
					perspective when looking at China's policies in the 
					autonomous region of Inner Mongolia 
                  
					  
					
						
							
								
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								A 
								herdsman tends his sheep on a barren pasture, in 
								An Zhe Li Mu 15 October. As domestic animals in 
								Inner Mongolia multiply quickly, the neglected 
								pasture land is degenerating fast and is 
								expected to become a desert within several 
								years. | 
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					China 
					has developed a reputation for being an unforgiving bully 
					towards its 55 ethnic minorities. This is hardly surprising, 
					given the consistently repressive policies adopted across 
					the allegedly autonomous regions of Tibet and Xinjiang over 
					the last decade. Policies pushing these outer regions into 
					line with the rest of China have been damned by most, 
					including Ilham Tohti, an intellectual from 
					
					the 
					Uyghur ethnic group. 
					He describes the situation as "worse even than colonialism". 
					More recently though, the 
					previously media-shy autonomous region of Inner Mongolia, 
					with a minority population of around 5 million, has started 
					to gain attention. In 2011, the first large-scale unrest in 
					two decades broke out when a Mongolian herder was killed by 
					a coal truck driver, and last year there was further cause 
					for unease when protests against land seizure were brutally 
					suppressed near the city of Tongliao.   
					Several Mongolian minority human 
					rights groups have sprung up abroad as a result, including 
					the New York-based Southern Mongolian Human Rights 
					Information Centre. Such groups are where most media reports 
					derive their information from, and it therefore becomes 
					tempting to draw comparisons between Inner Mongolia and 
					other autonomous regions, reflecting a further example of 
					China's apathetic approach towards its minorities. 
					But I'd argue that this attitude 
					comes from an over-simplification of Inner Mongolia's 
					current economical, cultural, and environmental issues. The 
					recent discontent has arisen due to the authorities' 
					enthusiastic 'recovering grassland ecosystem' policy pursued 
					over the last few years, where previously nomadic 
					minorities, including Mongols and ten other minorities 
					residing in the region, are seen to have been be turfed off 
					their land by coal-hungry Han (the ethnic group which makes 
					up about 92 per cent of China's population). As a result, 
					they are jerked in to the glare of modernity, or worse still 
					made into rare museum pieces lamenting the loss of their 
					herds and grasslands, their unwritten languages and 
					practical skills. 
					These accusations are not 
					unfounded, as hundreds of thousands of minorities across the 
					region have been forcefully encouraged to move into 
					permanent homes on the outskirts of Han cities. However, 
					it's not these cultures that the government has purposefully 
					set out to destroy. It's their medieval lifestyles that are 
					incompatible with a developing China that is exploiting coal 
					mining opportunities, while simultaneously attempting to 
					reclaim mass amounts of land. China's number one concern is 
					economic prosperity, and
					
					with Inner Mongolia's rich natural 
					resources, it now has the strongest economic 
					growth of China's five autonomous regions. At the same time, 
					the country now faces 2.6 million square-kilometres of 
					desertified land, in part due to more modern and 
					industrialising activities from Han farmers, but also thanks 
					to problems of overgrazing, logging, and expanding 
					populations, directly linked to animal husbandry lifestyles 
					favoured by the minorities. 
					Clinging on to a minority culture is not a priority, but 
					that's not to say that China's aim of a homogenised standard 
					of living across the country is wholly bad. Reports from the 
					area tend to focus on relocation schemes leading to the loss 
					of traditional lifestyles and struggles in adapting to a 
					modern world. Forty-two year old Bu Lie Tuo Tian of Ewenke 
					ethnicity (one of the four main minorities in the region), 
					who I met just outside Genhe city, reflected nostalgically 
					on life in Shangyang Ge Qi forest before her family was 
					relocated. "We were freer, we could hunt and move as we 
					pleased, and we felt at home when we were close to our 
					reindeer." More reluctantly acknowledged are the severe 
					issues with alcoholism, and the many stories of tribe 
					members freezing to death and mistakenly shooting each other 
					whilst out hunting bears (up till last year, when their guns 
					were unofficially confiscated).  
					From a modern day perspective, at least all of the 
					recently relocated minority groups have seen their prospects 
					significantly improve since their hunting days. The 
					government has not only provided chalet-style housing within 
					a tight-knit community, electricity, monthly welfare 
					payments and vastly improved infrastructure, but also fresh 
					opportunities in the recently revamped tourism industry. 
					When the topic of Bu's 17-year-old son is raised, both her 
					and her husband Xiao Liangku are regretful that their only 
					child has chosen to leave his grassroots behind and move to 
					the city to further his education, but at the same time, 
					there is a strong feeling of pride. They also know that if 
					their son is to make his mark, he must learn Mandarin and 
					embrace a Han lifestyle. 
					Reluctance to change and grief over dying cultures are 
					prevalent, and as ever the media is more than eager to 
					criticise China's human rights policies. But it's difficult 
					to say that these changes have been purely negative. It 
					seems to me like China is stuck between a rock and a hard 
					place when dealing with minorities here; condemned for 
					dragging them into modern China, but also condemned if it 
					leaves them behind. I’m not suggesting that their iron fist 
					approach is healthy, but perhaps its time to consider that 
					China too wants no child left behind.  |