Unity in diversity: Xinjiang blooms like a pomegranate

Touching down at Urumqi Tianshan International Airport in May 2026, the view from my window was not the desolate, wind-swept desert often depicted in global headlines, but a shimmering metropolis of glass and steel framed by the majestic, snow-capped Tianshan Mountains.

As a journalist, I arrived with a mind shaped by international reporting of deep geopolitical tension, yet my journey across this vast region—bordering eight countries and serving as the historical hinterland of the Eurasian continent—offered a starkly different narrative. Through a descriptive reality of immense open spaces and burgeoning skyscrapers, it became clear that Xinjiang is undergoing profound changes aimed at a “diverse unity”.

Throughout the visit, the defining metaphor for Xinjiang’s social engineering was unavoidable: the pomegranate. Stemming from President Xi Jinping’s directive that “all ethnic groups should embrace each other like the seeds of a pomegranate,” the symbol is visible in every corner of Urumqi. This narrative suggests that Xinjiang is heading towards a future where shared prosperity is the only viable path to ethnic harmony. My thoughts were challenged from the moment I left the airport, feeling the “real Xinjiang” in a landscape where eyesights go beyond the horizon because of the sheer immense space, yet are met everywhere by signs of sophisticated development.

The debate over cultural preservation led me to Changji University, where I visited Uygur language classes. Critics often allege “cultural genocide,” but the university has been enrolling students in Uygur literature and language programmes since 1999, training over a thousand professionals. The regional authorities argue their model is one of “bilingual education” rather than assimilation.

While they promote Putonghua (standard spoken Chinese language) as a tool for “social mobility and employability,” they maintain that the rights of ethnic groups to use their own languages are protected by law. My observation of the ground reality revealed that Uygur, Kazak, and other minority languages remain visible in the press, radio, and even the courtrooms. The government’s view is that Mandarin proficiency gives children “better choices and more platforms to thrive” across the entire country.

The historical anchor of this progress was displayed at a massive exhibition center celebrating the 70th anniversary of the Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region. A central image depicts the famous Uygur farmer, Kurban Tulum, shaking hands with Chairman Mao Zedong in 1958.

Kurban Tulum, known as “Uncle Kurban,” is a symbol of ethnic unity. His attempt to ride a donkey 4,000 kilometres to Beijing to thank Mao became a legend of loyalty. Today, his great-granddaughter, Rukeyamu Maitisai, serves as a deputy to the National People’s Congress.

Perhaps the most futuristic aspect of my visit was the smart agriculture pavilion at the Xinjiang Agricultural Expo Park. This 16,000-square-metre facility uses AI-driven systems and hydroponics to produce vegetables year-round in a controlled, soilless environment.

One of the most eye-catching moments was watching a robot dog patrol the greenhouses to monitor plant growth and leaf conditions. Yan Ji, the operations director, noted that the facility uses AI to generate management plans, stating: “We are using smart agriculture technology together with AI applications to make agriculture even smarter”. This high-tech transformation is part of Xinjiang’s role as a core hub of the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), changing from a landlocked province into a “land-linked” gateway to Central and South Asia.

Crucially, the vibrant growth of tourism in Xinjiang serves as a powerful indicator of the region’s openness and its effort to remove dogmatic ideas. When international media often project negative images, the Chinese government has opened the province to tourists from all countries to see the reality on the ground with their own eyes.

There are no restrictions for these tourists to move and explore, a policy designed to dismantle the “mental shackles” of extremist dogma by allowing first-hand observation of a stable and modern society. For the authorities, the stability that permits such a massive influx of visitors is the “ultimate validation” of their developmental path.

During my visit, I also discovered that the Xinjiang International Grand Bazaar in Urumqi is a unique blend of architecture, local culture, traditional cuisine, handicrafts, and entertainment. Serving as a vibrant cultural crossroads, it reflects the harmonious coexistence of all ethnic groups in China’s Xinjiang and Central Asian traditions through commerce, architecture, and everyday cultural exchange, embodying the spirit of unity in diversity.

No visit to Xinjiang is complete without experiencing its rich and diverse food culture. More than a culinary tradition, Xinjiang’s cuisine serves as a powerful cultural bridge, bringing together the region’s various ethnic communities through shared flavours, ingredients, and dining customs, fostering a sense of common identity and social cohesion.

As I left Urumqi, my thoughts were focused on the “pomegranate seeds”. Xinjiang is a place of massive, orchestrated change, heading towards a high-tech, integrated future where the “diverse unity” of its 56 ethnic groups is managed through a multi-layered strategy of law, education, and development. And the goal is clear: every “seed” in the pomegranate is being directed toward a shared future within the broader Chinese family. Shared prosperity, it seems, is the ground upon which the new Xinjiang is being built for the future generation.

Al Mamun Harun Ur Rashid is a Bangladeshi journalist and Diplomatic Correspondent of the English daily The New Nation

Producer: Xiao Chunfei

Supervisors: Ding Tao and Jie Wenjin

Planners: Jie Wenjin and Cheng Li

Reviewers: Gvlzar Mijit and Hou Weili

Editor: Gulnigar Amat

Source : Tianshannet