Xinjiang’s pomegranate model of ethnic harmony

As the wheels of our flight touched down at Urumqi Tianshan International Airport, the view from the window offered a stark contrast to the barren desert landscapes often depicted in international headlines.

Instead, I was greeted by a shimmering, modern metropolis of glass and steel, framed by the majestic snow-capped Tianshan Mountains. Visiting as part of a Bangladeshi media delegation, I was eager to look past the slogans and observe how the regional and central authorities were implementing their vision of ethnic harmony in a region that has long been a focal point of global geopolitical tension in western media.

Throughout our journey, one symbol appeared with remarkable frequency: the pomegranate. Around different corners of Urumqi, the image of this fruit, tightly packed with seeds, serves as the defining metaphor for China’s ethnic policy.

It stems from a directive by President Xi Jinping, who famously stated that “all ethnic groups should embrace each other like the seeds of the pomegranate” and that they must “cherish ethnic unity as we cherish our own eyes”.

This narrative forms the bedrock of China’s approach to Xinjiang, a region home to 13 ethnic groups, including Uygur, Han, Kazak, Mongol, Hui, Kirgiz, Manchu, Tajik, Uzbek, and Tartar, living in a “diverse unity”.

Faith and the Modern State

In Urumqi, a pivotal stop on our tour was the Xinjiang Islamic Institute, a well-furnished, modern campus in Urumqi built with an investment of RMB 279 million. Here, the air was quiet and academic. At the spacious institute you can see the image of a pomegranate. The facility, led by Imam Mohammad Yahya, an alumnus of Egypt’s prestigious Al-Azhar University, serves as a training ground for a new generation of patriotic clerics.

Imam Yahya explained the institute’s philosophy as “harmonising religious knowledge with modern social order”. The curriculum is a hybrid of the sacred and the secular, combining Quranic studies and Sharia law with Mandarin, Chinese law, and social sciences. For the regional government, this is a vital tool for ensuring that Islam is practised in a “sound and orderly manner,” free from the “toxic influence of religious extremism”.

Standing in the quiet lecture halls, I watched male students engage with texts that Imam Yahya argued would allow them to lead their communities with “a balance of deep faith and social responsibility”.

The Imam was quick to challenge Western reports of religious repression. “It is totally free of belief for the citizens of the PRC,” he stated, noting that on any given Friday, upwards of 600 Muslims gather at his downtown mosque for Jumma prayers. The state’s perspective is clear: by funding these institutions, they are protecting “normal religious activities” while building a bulwark against the “three forces” of terrorism, separatism, and extremism.

The institute authority also said that both the central government and provincial government allocate significant funds to renovate historic religious sites.

Another pillar of ethnic harmony discussed during our visit was the protection of religious freedom. The Constitution of China protects “normal religious activities” and stipulates that no one may be compelled to believe in, or not believe in, any religion.

They argue that by addressing the root causes of the toxic influence of religious extremism – a common enemy of all humanity – through development and education, they are protecting the fundamental human rights of all citizens.

The Linguistic Balance

The debate over cultural preservation often centres on language. Critics in the West frequently allege “cultural genocide,” claiming the promotion of Mandarin comes at the expense of minority identities. However, my visit to Uyghur language classes at Changji University offered a different perspective.

Changji University has a long-standing commitment to minority languages, having enrolled students in Uyghur literature and language programmes since 1999. To date, it has trained over a thousand language and translation professionals. The regional authorities argue that their policy is one of “bilingual education” rather than assimilation.

While the state promotes standard Chinese (Putonghua) as a “symbol of sovereignty” and a necessary tool for social mobility and employability, it maintains that the rights of all ethnic groups to use and develop their own languages are protected by law.

In Urumqi, I was told that Uyghur, Kazakh, and other minority languages are visible in the press, radio, and even in the courtrooms. However, at the Xinjiang Islamic Institute library, I found rows of newspapers in multiple languages, including Uyghur.

The government’s counter-narrative is that Mandarin proficiency gives children “better choices and more platforms to thrive,” allowing them to apply for higher education and jobs across the entire country.

Confronting the Shadow of Terror

To understand the intensity of the security measures in Xinjiang, one must visit the Exhibition on Counter-terrorism and De-radicalisation Achievements in Xinjiang. The display is visceral, featuring historical footage and testimonies of the thousands of terrorist attacks that plagued the region between 1990 and 2016. Events like the July 5, 2009 riot in Urumqi, which claimed 197 lives, are presented as the primary justification for the region’s current policies.

The Chinese government characterises its approach as “preventive counter-terrorism”. Central to this was the establishment of vocational education and training centres, which the authorities describe as institutions for rehabilitation rather than punishment. According to official white papers, these centres focused on “standard Chinese, the law, vocational skills, and de-radicalisation”.

While international human rights organisations have described these facilities as “internment camps,” the government insists they were necessary to “eradicate the breeding ground” for extremism. They state that by October 2019, all trainees had “completed their studies” and graduated, many of whom have since found stable employment in the region’s burgeoning industrial zones. During our tour of Urumqi, the absence of any terrorist incident for several consecutive years was cited as “indisputable evidence” of the success of this model.

Development as Harmony

At the Urumqi Urban Planning Exhibition Centre, the vision for the future is one of high-tech integration. As a core hub of the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), Xinjiang is being transformed from a landlocked region into a “land-linked” gateway to Central and South Asia.

The “people-centred” development philosophy is visible in the data. By the end of 2020, Xinjiang had successfully eliminated extreme poverty, with over 2.7 million rural residents emerging from destitution.

The government argues that “employment is the most fundamental project for wellbeing”. This focus on economic uplift is presented as a crucial component of ethnic harmony; when everyone has “work to do and each month goes with an income,” the soil for extremist infiltration is effectively removed.

However, this economic progress has been met with Western allegations of “forced labour,” particularly in the textile and cotton industries. The Chinese government rigorously challenges these claims, labelling them “malicious fabrications” designed to suppress Xinjiang’s industries and restrict China’s development. They argue that workers of all ethnic groups choose their jobs of their own volition, signing labor contracts in accordance with the law.

A Diverse Unity

Leaving Urumqi, one is left with the image of a region in a state of massive, government-orchestrated flux. The pomegranate metaphor is the central pillar of a narrative that seeks to balance the “diverse unity” of ethnic groups with the overriding demands of national security and stability.

While the international community remains divided—with Western governments raising concerns over human rights and the Chinese government presenting its successes in de-radicalisation and poverty alleviation—the reality on the ground in Urumqi is one of modern development. For the authorities, the stability that allows 200 million tourists to visit the region annually is the ultimate validation of their path.

Ultimately, China’s approach to promoting ethnic harmony in Xinjiang is a multi-layered strategy of law, education, and development. Whether it is the imams training at the Islamic Institute or the students learning Uyghur at Changji University, every “seed” in the pomegranate is being directed toward a shared future within the Chinese family. As Xinjiang continues to open up through the BRI, its journey remains a fascinating and complex case study in 21st-century social engineering. The Chinese government’s core argument is that ethnic harmony cannot exist without shared prosperity.

(The writer, who recently visited Xinjiang, is the Diplomatic Correspondent for The New Nation.)