As mentioned above, contacts with foreign Muslims and experiences of liv-ing in societies with large Muslim populations served as a source of inspi-ration in the current Islamic resurgence in China. As in the past, now, too, those who studied in Muslim countries are respected as figures of consider-able religious authority upon their return to China. This admiration con-tinues despite the fact that there are nowadays literally hundreds of Hui students enrolled in educational institutions in Egypt, Pakistan and Malay-sia to name just the most popular destinations. At the same time, China’s economic rise has attracted numerous foreign businessmen and profession-als, visiting or settling down in the country, many of them Muslim. Indeed, growing numbers of Hui students abroad now envision their future careers in business, (Arab) language interpretation and cultural mediation, rather than in a religious profession.
It is also noteworthy that it was first Hong Kong in the 1980s and then the Southern business centres of Shenzhen and Guangzhou in the 1990s, which served as entry points for Islamic books, magazines and other reli-gious materials as well as for the proselytizers. Since the relireli-gious activi-ties of foreigners are strictly regulated, much of such work was and still is generally conducted underground. Finally, like elsewhere, new information and communication technologies continuously intensify the flow of (global) ideas circulating among Hui, strengthening both the nationwide and trans-national dimension of their networks.
The process of intensification of Hui religious and economic contacts with Muslim majority countries, however, cannot be understood simply as an inevitable consequence of China’s full incorporation into the global ket economy or as the overflowing of global Islamic fervour onto the mar-gins of the Muslim world. On the contrary, with the onset of reform policies
it was the state itself, which actively instigated establishment of such ties.
Already in 1980, a Soviet weekly commented sarcastically on China’s sud-den interest in Islam and its keen publicising of the well-being of its Muslim minorities:
What is the need for this eyewash about ‘the happy life of the peoples of China professing Islam’? Who is this intended for? The authorities are trying to present the position of national minorities in China in a light that suits Peking. But the main reason of the sudden ‘love’ for the Moslem peoples is different. The Peking strategists have started darting glances in the direction of the Near and Middle East, have started devi-sion [sic] means of getting access to the oil-rich Moslem countries and for this reason are posing as ‘protectors of Islam’. (BBC 1980)
Indeed, in the early 1980s a number of important mosques were renovated or rebuilt with state funds, and soon foreign financial aid was attracted. In 1986, Islamic Development Bank presented China with 4.06 million USD in financial assistance for the (re-)building of Islamic institutes (madrasas) in Beijing, Ningxia, Xinjiang and for an Arabic School in Tongxin (also Ningxia) (Yang 1991, Yisilanjiao fazhan 1990). In the 1990s, another 2 million USD of donations were solicited for madrasa constructions in the provincial capitals of Shenyang, Kunming, Lanzhou, Zhengzhou, as well as for a girls’ middle school in Tongxin and Muslim vocational middle schools in Tianjin, Xi’an, Guangzhou and Heilongjiang (Chang 1999). These middle schools trained students in Arabic and religious subjects while also carrying out a part of the regular state curriculum. The focus on religious education reflects the major concerns reported in the Middle Eastern media with regard to the situation of Muslims in China at the beginning of China’s opening up (Bagader 2009: 87). The investment projects enumerated, and many others have been handled by the China Islamic Association, which thereby gained increased influence in Chinese international affairs. Strengthening exchange and cooperation with foreign Muslim and Islamic organisations remains one of the association’s central tasks.
Perhaps the most prominent example of mixing religion with business is the case of the Ningxia Hui Autonomous Region, a provincial-level admin-istrative unit with the largest percentage of Hui inhabitants in the country.
In Ningxia, Hui constitute nearly 35% of the population, accounting for almost a fifth of all Hui in China. For this reason both national and local authorities worked early on to develop trade and business links with Mus-lim countries as a means of developing this poor Northwest region. For example, in the years 1985–1986, the provincial government organised 32 technological fairs and receptions for diplomats and businessmen from Mus-lim countries, sent a delegation to Saudi Arabia, Egypt and six other Arab countries. By 1991, tens of foreign officials, religious leaders and business-men had visited the province, and more than 10 financial consortiums or
Islamic financial institutions were active in Ningxia (Yang & Zhang 1991:
21). Nowadays Ningxia is known in Muslim countries as ‘China’s Muslim Province’. The main trading articles are various Muslim commodities and halal foodstuffs, the latter now taking up 80% of the entire Ningxia food industry (Tan 2010: 26).
Furthermore, as in the case of other religions, especially Buddhism, the state has been heavily promoting Muslim historical sites for the purpose of international religious tourism, for two reasons. First, tourists bring immedi-ate revenue to local communities and second, the raised international profile helps attract foreign investment at home or ease the way for development projects abroad. Muslim cultural and religious heritage is often placed in the context of the Silk Road, thereby drawing attention not only to the spiritual bonds of Chinese Muslims with their coreligionists elsewhere, but also to the pathways of actual historical, maritime and land trading routes. The symbolism has escaped neither politicians nor journalists who now increas-ingly describe the deepening of Sino-Arab economic ties as the New Silk Road. With expansions of fields of cooperation to, amongst others, finance, China is being encouraged to introduce Islamic banking tools in dealings with Arab and Muslim banks (Ghazal 2010). The growing research interest among Chinese academics in Islamic finance and law observed over the past few years may well be an indication that these instruments are under serious consideration.
What about the consequences of these developments on Hui religious practice? In the past, every time the state instrumentalised Hui and other Muslims for its political and economic goals, it further opened the doors of the religious field, willingly or not. For example, when towards the end of the 1990s the Islamic Development Bank changed its funding focus from reli-gious education to vocational training centres and regular primary schools, the promotion of Sino-Arab schools—secondary schools which combine instruction in modern Arabic with religious and general subjects, was taken up by the Hui themselves. Educational levels in Gansu, Qinghai and Ningxia are among the lowest in the country since the steep financial costs of school-ing are barely affordable to many parents in these least developed prov-inces of China. Enabling youngsters to attend school for little or no fee and to learn religious knowledge that is considered useless by the mainstream society yet highly appreciated in local Muslim communities, quickly raised schools’ popularity. Thus, many more sprung up in Western China in the fol-lowing decade. They are now financially supported by Hui themselves with or without donations from abroad. Worried about this trend, the rumour was that Gansu authorities had decided to discontinue issuing permits for further schools as of 2007.14
Similarly, several activities of university students I observed and partici-pated in during my doctoral fieldwork were clearly modelled after Tablighi Jama’at practice of travelling, lay missionary groups, which have been visit-ing China as tourists and businessmen, mostly from Pakistan, since as early
as the 1980s (Metcalf 2003: 141). The movement’s name was never actually brought up by students, but I later found out about at least two popular Tablighi proselytizing centres. On the other hand, all group religious activi-ties on campus came under close scrutiny when a regular inspection from the relevant central body was announced for 2007. They were eventually banned when Muslim students and several Hui faculty members demanded a small mosque be built in the vicinity of the school’s isolated new country-side campus. School authorities adopted some measures which had for years been applied to the Uyghur in Xinjiang (for example, shortening the opening hours of the halal cafeteria during Ramadan to discourage students from fasting). Still, unlike Xinjiang, individual practices such as praying alone or wearing a headscarf remained permitted. That this strictness was a part of a larger trend became clear on my subsequent visit to the region in 2010. If my participation in various religious events never raised any concerns on the part of my hosts during my fieldwork in the mid-2000s, I was now asked several times not to attend similar activities lest I (as a foreigner) drew addi-tional attention of the security forces. There seemed to be a general agree-ment that at least in parts of the Northwest, conditions have worsened with respect to the practising of religion.