PDA

View Full Version : Rebiya Kadeer/Alexandra Cavelius - The Stormer of the Sky -sample English Translation



Xalis Uyghur
27-07-07, 16:24
Rebiya Kadeer/
Alexandra Cavelius
The Stormer of the Sky
[Die Himmelsstürmerin]
China’s Public Enemy Number One Tells Her Story

414 pages,16 pages of illustrations

© May 2007 by Wilhelm Heyne Verlag, a division of Verlagsgruppe Random House,
Germany

(Sample translation)

Prologue

At four in the morning a guard brought a tray with lamb, chicken, and four or five
sorts of vegetables. I had forgotten that such delicious food even existed. One
Uighur official after another walked into my cell and looked at me with concern.
“Why aren’t you eating? Please, eat!” After a short pause one of them, a woman,
asked, “Do you want anything?” I was then suddenly aware they were going to
shoot me. This was to be my last meal.

The guards wanted to know what clothes I would wear. I asked for my long skirt,
my long white leather coat with fur trim, and my beloved white fur hat, my tomak.
For shoes I chose short white boots with medium high heels. I wanted to wash
my hair and wear it loose. “I want to put on some makeup,” I said.

They brought me these things from the apartment in Ürümqi. Everyone knew I
was to be executed in a few hours. “May I see my children one last time?” I
asked, full of hope. “No, that’s not allowed for prisoners sentenced to death,” I
was told.

I then asked whether I could look at myself in a large mirror. This wish was
granted. I saw a beautiful woman there. As I looked at this image, for the first
time in a long time my thoughts became still, and I was possessed by an
unbelievable calm. Everything around me became blurred, and things blended
into one another: the guards, the cell, the light, the floor. There seemed to be
only me.

The Chinese women behind me put their heads together and whispered. It was
easy to see that they had compassion for me. I sank into a kind of inner serenity.
I was alone with this peacefulness, with death, and with my image in the mirror.
Many prisoners in their cells were lamenting my fate. Even the Uighur guards
furtively wiped tears from their faces.

“Any wish that you have will be granted you,” said the guard as she put the
handcuffs and ankle shackles on me. Since I was not allowed to see my children,
I simply asked to be able to see myself in the mirror with the manacles on. A
Uighur guard entered the room and told the Chinese guard to go. “Someone is
calling for you,” she said. Hardly had the Chinese guard left than the Uighur
pulled a camera out of her pocket and, close to tears, took a couple of pictures of
me.

She asked me what my last words for her could be. But I was no longer in a
position to do anything for her world. “How beautiful I have become,” I sighed.
“To one who belongs to the people, golden necklaces are not befitting, but
shackles. A person is truly free when he or she is able to break these chains.
God will do this for me. I will not die!”

I can’t explain why I talked like that. Maybe it was the long solitary confinement,
or the fact that I was nearing my execution. I don’t know. I called my husband
and my eleven children to me in my mind’s eye. I asked each of my children,
especially Kekenos, because she was the youngest, “How can my husband now
live without me?” The guard interrupted my thoughts. “It’s time.”
Thirty police armed with automatic weapons followed me down the hallway. To
my side and in front of me were another ten guards. They had me in their midst
as if in a dance. I almost enjoyed being surrounded by so many people. In spite
of the heavy shackles I walked as if my feet were not touching the floor. I was
ready to die, to become a heroine, and I was not afraid. But then I was overcome
by a strange nervousness. I had to gather my courage: I was concerned that my
strength could suddenly leave me: “Rebiya, you have to see it this way. When
someone like you is ready to die, thousands will follow you. The people will see
you as a symbol of freedom. And after you, a new, stronger hero will appear. You
will have not died in vain.”

I again found peace with these thoughts. I enjoyed those last hours remaining
me. Something went through my mind: “I always thought I would free our land
from the occupiers. I have not achieved this. But like a teacher I’ve shown the
people a path.” The second door opened in front of us.

In the courtyard were some fifty policemen in three rows. They were yelling
unintelligible commands here and there – maybe a kind of changing of the
guards ceremony. Hardly had my name been called when a group of policemen
in blue uniforms arranged themselves behind me and put their hands to their
foreheads in salute. Standing there in my white dress, in contrast to those dark
figures, I felt myself to be even more of an angel.

Three soldiers in battle fatigues now in charge of me led me through a third door
to the outside. Someone bellowed in Chinese: “The accused Rebiya Kadeer is
brought in!” Many uniformed people got out of the maybe hundred black cars that
were parked in a line outside the gate. There were also two large military
vehicles with many soldiers. The air roared and reverberated as three helicopters
flew over us. I laughed. Such an extravagant effort was not really necessary.
When I was brought to one of the cars, two Uighur policemen saluted. I winked at
them, and the eyes of the men filled with tears. The people cursed the Uighur
policemen as traitors because they worked for the Chinese. But in their hearts
they all wish for the same thing: freedom.

The government had created a closed military zone in Ürümqi. They had ordered
people not to come to work. This order, the city being sealed off, and so many
soldiers patrolling the streets with helicopters thundering in the sky alerted the
people that something significant was happening.

Many residents of Ürümqi had already found out that I had been sentenced to
death and was to be executed immediately. Some officials had told my children
that I would be set free after the trail, but they didn’t believe this. In spite of the
prohibition, many people were out on the streets.

I slid into the back seat of a limousine. Next to me were two men, and two more
were in the front. I could not be seen from the outside through the darkened
windows. Sirens from five police cars were sounding. The two men next to me
were saying to each other that I was originally to be transported in a truck that
had the prisoners behind bars. They decided against this in order that the people
would not be able to see my face.

Such a convoy of course made much more of an impression than one truck.
Along the street we were on, soldiers created a barrier with locked arms,
cordoning off the street. The people who were on either side of the street behind
the barriers were calling my name. A desire then came to me: to be able to
continue living. The Uighur sitting next to me, probably a secretary of the court,
groaned out loud, “My God, they’re making an elephant out of a mosquito.” The
other man, a Chinese, agreed. “If they hadn’t told anybody, people would not
have gotten so excited. We ourselves have made the people gather like this.”
They had truly organized an extravagant event, one that would otherwise be
reserved only for a president. This meant, at least, that they had accepted me as
the leader of our people. They themselves had created me and made me known
to the Uighurs who had would otherwise not have heard of me.

Over a thousand people had assembled in front of the court building. There the
soldiers gave me over again to blue-uniformed police. For a moment I could hear
the voices of two of my children above the crowd. “Mother! Mother!” These were
Kahar and Rouxian. There was no time for me to turn to them, so quickly was I
shoved through the door.

In the courtroom I first notice many doctors. I concluded from this that after my
execution they would be removing my organs. One of them measured my blood
pressure. I asked him, “Do you want to sell my organs after I’m executed?” But
he apparently had orders not to speak to me.

With over a hundred seats, the room was quite large. But the trial was secret.
There were only the state attorneys, the defense lawyers, and police. I was
brought to the dock. The state attorneys and the assigned defense lawyers were
working out formalities. “Are other spectators coming?” asked someone in jest.
Then I joined in. “Don’t you see that the room is already full?” With my finger I
motioned toward the empty seats. “Every seat is occupied.” “And where should
the spectators sit?” joked the state attorney, who was surely doubting my sanity.
“All the angels have flown here and have long found their places,” I responded.
“They are going to hear your decision in this court.” He had nothing to reply to
that.

After so much time in darkness, I wasn’t able to concentrate very well. Too many
things were going through my head. I had to get my legal argument ready. The
judge, a Uighur, entered and read the charges. Then as evidence they played a
video, which was made of me after my arrest. In the video I was unconscious,
and with my tousled hair and half opened mouth I looked like a derelict. The
papers that someone had previously put under my blouse were clear to see.

“You now may present your defense.” In a strong voice I responded. “My defense
is meaningless. My conviction has long been decided.” In a bored tone of voice
the judge responded. “Even if that is true, you should still try to defend yourself.”
I concentrated. “ I have left behind all my wealth. The violations of human rights
that the people have suffered, these I too have suffered. I have wanted to
support my people, but in the end I’ve not been able to help myself. I believe that
I have lived an honorable life and have made no mistakes.”

I enumerated all the things I had accomplished for our republic. “I have helped
maintain the stability of this province. I have financially supported the poor and
orphans. Through my international business I have brought desperately needed
goods into the land. I have given contracts to many Chinese companies and thus
saved them from bankruptcy. I have exported goods from China and through this
have made great profits for Xinjiang.

“As a representative I have made known the concerns and the needs of the
populace to the government in order to improve the lot of the simple people. The
government should actually be pleased because I have supported it. I really
shouldn’t even need to mention that. The government should wish that there
were more citizens like me. Today I have been placed before the court. This is an
important event in the history of our country. In case all of you are guiltless and
want to remain guiltless, I bid you to judge me justly. All the people outside
should in fact be able to listen to us here in the court. I expect from you a fair
judgement. And I am strongly convinced that today you will set me free.”
The state attorneys and the defense lawyers pretended to discuss my speech.
Finally the judge announced his long pre-determined verdict: “Rebiya Kadeer has
betrayed state secrets. The way in which she has committed this act is
unwarrantable. For this reason she should have been more tried more harshly
before. Because our court is just, we will sentence her mildly.”

The reading of the verdict took maybe fifteen minutes. For the betrayal of state
secrets the judge sentenced me to eight years in prison. My heart skipped a
beat. They didn’t want to shoot me? It was like a heavy stone fell from my heart.
Like a sleepwalker I followed the police outside. Through the car window I could
see my children Kahar and Rouxian. They were standing close behind the
human barrier. The people were chanting my name. Some were screaming,
“Please, Rebiya, take good care of yourself.”

Suddenly the driver hit the brakes. My daughter Rouxian had thrown herself onto
the hood of the car. For a short moment I saw her dark eyes, wide open and very
close. The uniformed security quickly dragged her down by her jacket. In spite of
the many police, she had succeeded in making her way though the cordon.
The driver accelerated. In my handcuffs and ankle shackles, I sat in the back
seat and looked out the window. It was as if I could feel a soft breeze of freedom

(pages 250–261; 276–277)
Corruption and Bribery

In many respects, there were two kinds of legal treatment: what was experienced
by Chinese, and what the Uighurs were subjected to. One day I observed from
my office window one of my merchants buying wares from a Chinese. He had
already unloaded twenty sacks from the truck onto the ground. Suddenly two
officials from the revenue department appeared and targeted the Uighur like
bloodhounds. They demanded 500 yuan per sack as tax.

The man explained to the officials that the articles were inexpensive and that he
couldn’t sell a sack for even 500 yuan. They made him go with them to the
revenue office. Later he told me that the tax officials gave the wares back to the
Chinese he had bought them from, even though he had long paid for them. Such
offices make up their own regulations. For example, paying more in bribe money
means needing to pay less in taxes.

The governing officials showed more understanding for the Chinese merchants.
Uighur officials working for the revenue office were not allowed to take bribes
from Chinese merchants, but they were allowed takes bribes from their own
people. Chinese tax collectors were inclined to go easy on Chinese.

I myself had already collected sufficient unpleasant experiences in dealing with
the tax officials. The simple merchants would truly start shaking with fear at the
approach of these bands. The officials were immediately recognizable. Most of
them wore gold chains and had thick rings or other jewelry. When they entered
the bazaar, the Uighurs would stand up out of fear.

Because of all the complaints, the government established an office for
investigating corruption and graft. The officials working there received smear
money from the revenue officials. If the merchants complained about these
dealings of the revenue people, their shops were closed down the next day. This
occurred continually. In the large restaurants, the tax officials could be seen
playing cards and eating with the office of corruption people. There were of
course Uighurs involved in this pack. They had taken off their pride and dignity
like an old coat.

These two offices did not get in each other’s way. They determined beforehand
who could collect from which businesses at which bazaars. This was no different
from a mafia.

Sometimes the head of the revenue office pulled the wool over the eyes of the
merchants in my department store by urging them to report to him immediately if
one of his officials tried to collect bribes.

During his next visit to the store he would point out an article, which would for
example cost 3000 yuan, and then ask innocently how much he would have to
pay for it. If the merchant was clever he would respond by saying however much
he would be willing to pay. The head of the revenue office would then ask if 500
yuan would be all right. If the merchant was agreeable to this, the revenue man
would praise him and explained that he would take the discount into account
during the next tax payment.

As a representative, I was responsible for the area “Business and
Communication with the People.” At the sessions of the congress, every time I
described the situation of the business people and gave specific examples, the
Chinese chairmen would promise to look into the situation immediately. But these
were just empty promises. At such meeting there were as a rule forty-five to fifty
people present, and among all the officials from the police, from the anticorruption
office and from the court there were only four or five Uighurs.

The Uighurs at these sessions kept silent. They were amazed that I had not long
ago been removed from my office and were of the belief that those who had
spoken as I did had all ended up in prison and died there. They advised me it
would be better in the future to keep quite, since so far not one of my
recommendations had resulted so far in any improvement. But then secretly they
would clap me on the shoulder for daring to raise my objections yet again.
When the next time I again stood up for the interests of the merchants, some of
the representatives demanded that I present evidence for my allegations. I listed
many names of business people and described in detail what they had
experienced. The consequence off this was that the merchants whose names I
had mentioned were forced into bankruptcy. I then realized that all the levels of
this establishment were working together. The business people whom I had tried
to protect through my efforts would no longer even look at me.

Soon no member of the Congress wanted to hear anything from me or about the
problems of the merchants. Regardless, at the next session I talked again:
“Millions of people have placed great trust in us and expect us to help them. And
we explain to them that we are here to lead the people towards prosperity. In
order to reach that, all they have to do is follow the precepts of the Party. But we
are deceiving the people! I am a Uighur. I do not speech Chinese well. I only
know the condition under which my people must live. Perhaps we experience
similar situations under the Chinese. I try in our sessions every time to describe
the living conditions of the populace, but instead of helping, you don’t even want
to recognize the truth. Why? I already know, because you yourselves are among
those who take bribes. The people have learned that you are lying to them. For
this reason people on the street don’t speak of a congress but of a kikesch [=
‘stutter’]. The people call us ‘political stutterers.’”

My listeners were becoming restless and impatient at being subjected to such
impertinence from me. But I wasn’t finished. “I have understood that this is a
place where not a single word from me is to be taken seriously. But even when
you don’t want to hear this anymore – I will never cease to talk about these
issues!”

After this session we went to the hotel restaurant. On the way some of the
representatives came to me optimistically. “You truly spoke well,” they said. One
colleague even came out with the exceedingly high praise of “Wonderful.” They
all wanted to sit next to me at the table. Someone posed a rhetorical question.
“How has to come about, actually, that we all like you?”
I looked at him earnestly. “Don’t get angry when I tell you the truth now. You and
all the others here cultivate these bandits and then speak judgment on them,” I
said, without touching the food in front of me. “Basically you are very similar to
the crooks. But, unlike them, you hold the power in you hands, because you
make the laws. If the legislation were in the hands of just people, you too would
receive your punishment.”

One of them laughed loudly, as if I had just made a wonderful joke. “Do you truly
believe that we belong to the lowest level of society? That we are thieves,
whores, murderers?” – “You are the true masters of that level!” When I said that,
they all broke out in hilarious laughter like a band of drunken revelers in some
decrepit dive.

In the National People’s Congress

Until then my sphere of responsibility was limited to Xinjiang, but in 1992 the
leadership chose me to be in the National People’s Congress for all of China.
The government had made me a member of many organizations. Suddenly I had
become a woman who sat at the same table with the Chinese premier Li Peng
and other members of government and debated about the current state of affairs.
The large session took place in alternating years in Ürümqi and in Beijing. Some
3000 representatives from all the provinces of the country, deserving party
cadres, and financial magnates, such as I, who had been of special service to
business and society, came together in the Great Hall of the People on
Tiananmen Square. Officially it was our duty for two weeks to legislate new laws
for the nation. In this ostensible parliament, however, there were no discussions.
In reality, the party leaders simply dictated to us their programs during a series of
plenary and committee sessions.

I was accompanied by an interpreter chosen by the government. While in the
congress hall a Chinese bureaucrat informed me that the premier would like to
receive me for an individual discussion. My heart rate went up with excitement.
The representatives nearby shook my hand.

Even if inside I was rejoicing about this opportunity, my feelings concerning this
powerful man were rather mixed. After the first congressional session the premier
had not left me with a good impression. His large eyes emanated unfriendliness,
and his laughter did not sound genuine. In my view, such a person was not
appropriate to be the leader of a country.

In the People’s Congress building is a section for Xinjiang. There my prominent
host awaited me. The room was decorated with wood carvings in the tradition of
the Uighurs. Carpets and a large picture of a blossoming fruit tree hung on the
walls.

Li Peng stood up immediately and greeted me in a friendly manner. “You are
very welcome, Rebiya. Come in, Rebiya.” At that moment I was a little ashamed
of my negative thoughts. Even though I did not feel at ease, I tried to appear
glad. “I am very grateful,” I said, “that the premier of the nation would receive me.
I feel very honored.”

All told we were eight persons. Next to me sat the interpreter and the three men
who had accompanied me. Next to Li Peng were three men from his staff. The
premier crossed his legs. We all turned sideways towards him. Apparently I was
invited there because they intended to appoint me to an even higher position.
They wanted to test me first, though.

After we had exchanged pleasantries, the premier asked me, “Which laws in
Xinjiang do you find are bad ones? What are the large problems in your land?
What improprieties are common in the bureaucracy in the Autonomous Region?”
I seriously assumed then that the Chinese leadership was looking for appropriate
solutions in our land. They gave me twenty minutes to present the situation to the
premier. One after the other I sketched out the problem areas and complained
about the behavior of the higher officials such as Wang Lequan, the party
secretary of the Autonomous Region.

Without hesitation I gave an account of the corruption, the unfair tax burdens,
and the extensive unemployment. In contrast to our people, the Chinese
residents found employment without any problem, whereas Uighurs with equal
qualifications had no chance. I broadened my scope. “You yourselves have said
that there should be basic education for all. Then please do not demand such a
high school fee from the parents. They cannot afford it.” I made a transition from
one subject to another. “The Chinese settlers are ruining our land. They log the
forests, and our rivers and field are drying up. Please reexamine you settlement
policies. Do not send so many Chinese to us. Furthermore, the impoverished
farmers should be treated free in the hospital.”

With an encouraging look, Li Peng obliged me to continue.

“You also take so much oil and gas from our land, and you speak of our
immeasurable resource as a ‘second Arabia.’ But in our villages and cities there
isn’t even running water. It is known that you use the wealth domestically. I
implore you to educate at least a thousand Uighurs from the income of the
mineral resources and send them abroad. Unfortunately in the time I have left I’m
not able to present everything in detail. It is simply too much. Perhaps you don’t
know about this deplorable state of affairs. I wanted simply to make you aware of
these things.”

Li Peng let me feel that he was very sympathetic to my ideas. “You have given
me very interesting information,” he flattered. “The improvement of the standard
of living of the Uighurs is one of our most pressing tasks. You can count on our
being engaged with the problems described by you. Our policy of reform has only
just begun. You can already notice that in comparison to previous times very
much has improved.”

His colleagues supported the words of their chief. “Yes, you have in the
meantime become very rich. You would never have been able to sit with us here
if you had remained poor.” Li Peng added, “If you are concerned about anything,
report to the appropriate department of the central government. Please do not
take these things to the common people. We trust you.” I expressed my
gratitude. The highest-ranking man in China had made a good impression on me.
Back in Ürümqi, I told Sidik about this conversation in Beijing. “It’s great that you
described so many problems to him. But you know, you forgot certain problems.
And why didn’t you speak more strongly to him?” I justified myself. “I only had
twenty minutes. That wasn’t enough for all the problems. But I hope that what I
said he took to heart and will help our people.”

Then Sidik took his head in his hands. “So, after seeing Li Peng, you lose your
good sense. Don’t take yourself so seriously! They just wanted to placate you.
This is just a game.”

Annoyed, I wrinkled my forehead. “When you succeed sometime in meeting with
the premier, then tell me afterwards everything you told him.” Sidik laughed.
“They will never invite me.”

My husband’s suspicions were confirmed. Shortly after the meeting in Beijing,
Wang Lequan summoned me.

“Your future is finished!”

In the central government office of the Xinjiang Autonomous Region, Wang
Lequan made bitter accusations. He talked how the Chinese talk, with a constant
smile that I would have liked to wipe from his face. Even though Wang Lequan
was the secretary of the communist party in Xinjiang, he didn’t speak any Uighur.
He didn’t even speak his Mandarin Chinese particularly well. Two interpreters
assisted us.

“You must not forget. We were the ones who introduced you to the central
government. I believe we have made a large mistake. If you continue to spread
bad things about us, you will end up experiencing severe problems,” he began.
When Wang Lequan spoke, his fat face wiggled. Every one of his features
revealed his brutality. “Do not forget that you are a simple business woman. You
always talk about ‘your people.’ If the opinions of the people are not in line with
those of the central government, we are prepared to institute all conceivable
educational measures concerning them. And when you do not restrain yourself,
you also will experience such a treatment. We have heard that your husband is
an evil man.” Thus far he had not mentioned Sidik in his speech.

Even though I had learned enough Chinese that I could have answered him in
the language, I spoke Uighur to him, occasionally using a Chinese word. “When
you talk to me, you have no right to bring up private things, especially about my
husband.” Wang Lequan responded in an unconcernedly way, as if he was
speaking about the weather. “Your husband was in prison for a long time. You
have become influenced by him. We only want to protect you. Think about you
future, and act accordingly.” In a roundabout way he was suggesting I should get
a divorce.

In a bad humor I asked Wang Lequan, “Have I taken bribes? Have I killed
someone? Have I distributed pamphlets against you on the street? What
mistakes have I made? I have in all fairness informed the premier about the true
situation in our province. If we want to maintain the stability in our region, at first
we should improve the living standards of the populace. I have no great
expectations about the government. I would only request that it act for and not
against the people.”

The disapproval on his face could not be missed. I returned his stare in a relaxed
way. “If you continue to exercise your power so bureaucratically and unjustly, if
every day you continue to throw innocent people in prison, you will come to
experience the anger of the people. You cannot arrest the whole population. In
my opinion, my talk with the premier was a good support for Xinjiang. Only if we
can reveal the unjustness and unfairness will we bring peace to our land. Yes it is
true, you have given me much power. I also know that I have been given a series
of honors and recognition – but only in order to make me obligated to you.”
His expression was blank, as if carved from wood, as the interpreter translated
my last sentence. In unabated passion, I continued. “You have just told me that I
have made a great mistake. Explain to me what that mistake is.”

Wang Lequan said coolly, “I now recognize that you are a great traitor. You will
experience the consequences of that.” I cut him short. “You have lost this battle
of words between us. A Chinese saying applies to you: ‘If one cannot find the
words, one shows his fist.’ Now you have shown me your fist, but I must also
warn you: if the Uighurs continue to be so unfairly treated, you too will experience
punishment for this.” He took in a deep gasp. “You future is now at an end.” –
“My future is determined only by God.”

With burning cheeks I took my handbag. “Then I will go now.” But Wang Lequan
ordered me back. “Ablait Abdurexit still wants to speak with you.” With this, his
secretary and an associate led me to the chairman of the Autonomous Region.
Ablait Abdurexit and I knew each other well, and privately I often associated with
him and his wife. “Ah, come in, come in …How good to see you,’ he greeted me.
“How are you? How are your children and your husband?” The two chaperons
who had accompanied here were carefully paying attention to our every word.
Finally he approached the unpleasant topic that he had called me to him to talk
of a few details. It was right that you addressed certain problems while you were
in Beijing. Those responsible there are constantly concerned about our people.
But we must remember that the standard of living of the population is higher than
it previously was.”
I looked deeply at Ablait Abdurexit. Then he asked me, concerned, “Why are you
looking at me like that?”

“I was just thinking that you have forgotten your past, you childhood. Do you
remember how the villages you grew up in looked? Do you still remember the
times when we had plenty to eat and were happy? When we celebrated
together?” The Uighur governor came from the North, like I did, from Ily.
“In those times,” I continued,” it was rare to find someone who had lied to
someone else. Can you explain to me why this same people have become so
quarrelsome and false? Don’t keep repeating ‘Good, everything is good.’ Talk
also about the bad sides of our lives. If someone always conveys something
false, he will eventually become ill.” Pained, Ablait Abdurexit grabbed the knot of
his tie, as if he wanted to cut off his air supply. “Please stop! Please, let’s talk
about something else. What business are you involved in now?”

There was no sense in continuing this discussion with him. We talked a bit further
about everyday things, and then I wanted to leave. He held me back and invited
me to his house. His wife would be very glad to see me. Naturally I would rather
have turned down his invitation, but when I saw how he bent over so obligingly, I
relented. I told him I would visit them the next chance I got.

From their place by the doorway, the two Chinese regarded the governor
skeptically. They probably assumed that I would confront him the way I did Wang
Lequan. Any other governor would have had the power to send such chaperons
away. Ablait Abdurexit turned to the two Chinese and asked them to accompany
me on the way out. He came along as well and brought me to the door of the
government building.

Ablait Abdurexit was considered very weak as a politician. He could not approve
of much of the discrimination he was informed of, and it was scarcely tolerable to
him the way Wang Lequan dealt with our people. But in his capacity as governor
he never complained. Only at home did he express how disparaged he felt by
that man at his side.

On the other hand, Ablait Abdurexit had become accustomed to his prosperity.
The government had even made it possible for his wife to travel to Germany. She
gushed about the freedom of that democratic nation. She couldn’t stop talking
about it, she was so euphoric.

From that day on, Wang Lequan began his fight with me. He took every
opportunity to put obstacles in my path.

[…]

Contact with the West:
The 1995 World Conference on Women in Beijing
In 1995, the apparatchiks sent me to Beijing as part of the Chinese delegation to
the United Nations Fourth World Conference on Women. For the first time I
would encounter representatives from the West, among them Hillary Clinton.
For this conference, the government had provided three Chinese to accompany
me. They observed my every move. I wasn’t able to talk freely. The higher party
officials had justified this by informing my security guards that they should
interpret for me since I spoke no foreign language. But they didn’t translate what I
said, and my relationship to them reminded me more of a hostage to hostage
takers. Yet these guards made obvious how much the higher officials appeared
to fear me.

In front of the conference building three Tibetan women had themselves tied
hand and foot, in this way showing their protest against the Chinese oppressors.

Fascinated, I listened to the Tibetan speakers, who fearlessly presented the
problems of their land at the podium. All the journalists listened to their words
with great attention – but no foreign woman mentioned the oppression of the
Uighur population in Xinjiang. Why, I thought, were we Uighurs not allowed to
speak about....

http://www.randomhouse.de/book/excerpt.jsp?edi=203202&frm=true

Unregistered
29-07-07, 15:30
Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou for writing this book and translating it into English. I wished many times that I were her when I was reading this part of the book.
Could u please post some more up here? When and where can we buy the English translation?

Unregistered
29-07-07, 15:32
This article reminded of what I went through when i was working in Occuped Ugyhuristan.

Unregistered
30-07-07, 05:35
feeling exactly the same.....
what they have done to us all mentally is more than the phisical part.
oppressors must be punished but not be forgiven in todays human civilization....

Unregistered
31-07-07, 08:39
is this book already published with english?
or will be?

Xalis Uyghur
31-07-07, 11:24
is this book already published with english?
or will be?

This book has already been published in German. The sections posted above is just selected, sample English translation:

http://www.randomhouse.de/book/excerpt.jsp?edi=203202&frm=true

I don't know if the English translation to be published or not.