by Deng Xianlai, Xu Yuan
WASHINGTON, April 14 (Xinhua) -- Having returned from a recent trip to Xinjiang, Raz Gal-Or is now acutely aware that what he has seen with his own eyes and learnt from Xinjiang locals is vastly different from the descriptions by some foreign governments, which accused Chinese authorities of human rights abuse against ethnic Uyghurs in the autonomous region.
Gal-Or's interactions with some 30 local people -- about half of them Uyghur cotton farmers -- prompt him to realize that the very group of people who have been described as being forced to work in the cotton industry in Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region, the westernmost part of China, are actually living a decent life.
The 26-year-old Israeli entrepreneur enjoys a sizable and devoted fan base on social media platforms, thanks to the startup he founded four years ago while still a Peking University student, aiming to promote cultural understanding between Chinese and foreign youngsters through vox pop videos.
Local people dwell in nice housing and earn satisfyingly stable income from an industry that their family have participated in for generations, one that has long been an indispensable part of both the region's economic history and -- more importantly -- its cultural tradition.
"So I was a bit surprised to hear things like people are asked to or necessarily forced to" work in the cotton industry, Gal-Or said. Those claims, he said, are "something that, traditionally, historically and economically speaking, is not really aligned with what I personally experienced."
Growing cotton has become part of the Uyghur people's culture, and those who advocate banning Xinjiang cotton "need to understand that people should really consider a person's culture before they try to judge their life and their work," Gal-Or said.
Not only is cotton the main crop grown in Xinjiang, which produced 87 percent of China's total in 2020, but also among the most profitable industry in the region.
"Cotton planting makes us money," 20-year-old cotton farmer Aibibula told Gal-Or in one of the episodes made by Gal-Or's start-up Ychina.
Gal-Or learned from the cotton farmers who run family farms that even those who earn the smallest salaries can make around 100,000 yuan (15,300 U.S. dollars) a year just from the fiber they grow. That number, he noted, "actually doesn't seem so low even for people in the city."
The wealthiest would make some 800,000 yuan (122,400 dollars) on an annual basis, for they have stayed in the cotton industry through more generations, and developed an economic model that enables them to expand the land and establish a more sophisticated trade network.
Apart from the baseline salary which Gal-Or described as "quite high" and "very attractive" even for young people in Xinjiang, he was quite amazed by the high level of efficiency in cotton planting and picking brought about by using advanced machinery and state-of-the-art technology.
"You know what, a lot of the machinery being used by cotton farmers in Xinjiang are actually procured from the United States," Gal-Or said, citing as an example a family farm located a three-hour drive from the remote county of Awat in Aksu Prefecture.
"You may think there's not much they can do living in so remote an area, but it turns out they are able to buy (imported) equipment worth tens of thousands of yuan," Gal-Or said. "And they also get grants from the local government to support their technological innovation."
April is the season for sowing cotton seeds and Gal-Or decided to give it a try himself. Accompanied by Aibibula in a tractor, Gal-Or found that he actually does not need to drive the giant machine, since it was running perfectly on autopilot.
"Guys, I think that the transformers are the labor here," he said while the steering wheel kept correcting the direction so that the tractor would not deviate while moving forward.
Thanks to this tractor, which was widely used by cotton farmers in the region, sowing requires less labor now and has become a much easier process.
Specializing in drone technology, Aibibula later showed Gal-Or how drones are used in pesticide spray. It was from the "more technology-oriented" Aibibula and other people who each have his own field of expertise that Gal-Or came to understand that specialized division of labor was another key to success for Xinjiang's cotton industry.
Gal-Or said the "transformer" metaphor apparently was a joke he made in the video, "but at the same time, that's what I saw. I didn't feel like there is an attack on these people's will to work in the farm. I didn't get a feel of (the farmers) feeling stuck or helpless about the situation. They were actually quite happy with where they are right now."
When Gal-Or raised the issue of Xinjiang cotton recently being boycotted by some foreign businesses over allegations of forced labor, the farmers were "extremely confused" and wondered why their products and labor were being doubted.
"They said things like 'these things don't really matter to me because it's not going to stop (me from developing my business).' They said things like 'it's my cotton. It's my farm. If you don't want it, it's your loss,'" Gal-Or said. "They were not angry, but they were just disappointed."
During his stay in Xinjiang, Gal-Or was shown a "very host-friendly culture" by the Uyghurs. The uniquely delicious cuisine, an expressive dancing style, and a great mastery of singing techniques are among the cultural elements that impressed him most during his two-day trip.
"All these things are a way for us to understand China's diversity better. And so besides talking about cotton, cotton and cotton, we should definitely talk more about Xinjiang as a culturally diverse and unique place," Gal-Or said.
Gal-Or felt a "nice bond" with the cotton farmers, whom he said he would feel so sorry for if the current ban on Xinjiang cotton were to affect their livelihoods in a negative way.
"I just really hope people will follow the local people's lifestyle, care about them, give them the ability to grow and have such a great industry and great families," Gal-Or said. "No matter how you talk about the situation, at the end of the day, it's those local people's lives that matter -- their economic well-being, their peaceful lifestyle, their children." Enditem
