With all the news of late that Ningxia Hui Autonomous Region was beginning to follow the example of Xinjiang in removing Islam and Islamic culture from the public sphere, I've begun to reflect on my time in Yinchuan. One particularly sad development is the removal of loudspeakers that broadcast the call to prayer from local mosques. Hearing the call to prayer reverberate throughout the city is one of my most powerful memories of being in Yinchuan. When I arrived on site in January 2016, I arrived at my hotel just before noon on a cold, bright, and sunny Friday, weary from a flight that required me to arrive at Beijing's airport at 5am. Dead tired, I checked into my room, the windows of which looked out at the Nanguan Mosque directly across the street, and lay down on my bed. After a few moments, the soft sounds of the call to prayer for the weekly Jumu'ah prayer filtered through my window. I lay on my hotel bed as the soft gray light of day peaked in through the curtains, and let the sound of the call wash over me. Thereafter the call, which I could hear routinely through my window, or while walking around Yinchuan, became emblematic of the city--a manifestation of its Chinese-Islamic identity.
During my first trip to Yinchuan, in the broiling hot days of early July 2014, I found myself strolling by the Nanguan Mosque as the faithful gathered for evening prayer. It was the early days of the holy month of Ramadan, and in the cool darkness, people waited patiently for the conclusion of prayer, and the breaking of the day's fast. I paused at the gate of the Nanguan, lit up with green flood lights so as to give off a soft glow, and listened to the prayer service being held inside. The sound of the Imam's sing-song-y Arabic rippled across the courtyard into the night air. I took only a short video clip that night, filing it away for future examination and scholarly dissection.
Years later, I watch this clip and feel a profound sense of sadness. These sounds are lost. They no longer stretch out into the night sky across Yinchuan. It occurs to me that this clip is what the current policies consider "extremism," and signs of a dangerous, nascent, radical Islamism in China's Hui communities. In truth, it mostly amounts to a foreclosure of the public space for the practice of daily life. As these loudspeakers fall silent for an indeterminate length of time, it's important to take note of what's being lost as regulations tighten. It's important now to remember: