Sat, Jun 20, 2009 page8

• JOHNNY NEIHU'S NEWS WATCH: Uighurs wander, but don’t fall down

  • By Johnny Neihu 強尼內湖
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  What a long, strange trip it’s been for the 17 Uighurs incarcerated at Gitmo.

  First they left China seeking training at terror camps in Tora Bora, Afghanistan, according to Bloomberg (quoting US court filings).

  It probably seemed like a good career move at the time. After all, opportunities are few and far between in Xinjiang — unless you’re a Han colonist.

  But they didn’t count on Osama bin Laden — or Uncle Sam. The Tora Bora camps were run by Muslim Uighur separatists designated as terrorists by the US State Department, Bloomberg said.

  That might not have mattered so much for these guys had a little thing called Sept. 11 not happened. As it turned out, when the US began bombing the bejeezus out of Afghanistan, these 17 fish out of water high-finned it to neighboring Pakistan.

  Wrong move.

  There they were captured — by whom it’s not clear — and turned over to the US military, who promptly labeled them “enemy combatants” and gave them an all-expenses-paid, open-ended vacation in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.

  Later, the US concluded that they weren’t “enemy combatants” at all. Apparently they were just a gang of Uighur drifters who’d picked up explosives training and knew their way around an AK-47 (we’re not talking maps of the New York City subway system on their person with “Attack here” in bad Arabic scrawled on them in crayon).

  So what to do with them? After holding the Gitmo 17 for years without charge, the US said it couldn’t send them back to China because they might be deprived of their rights.

  Hypocritical, you say?

  Perhaps. But I’d wager the possible torture and treatment that awaited them in the Chinese gulags would make Gitmo look like the Ritz-Carlton on a British MP’s expense account.

  Last week, a tiny Pacific island came to the rescue. Palau, a staunch Taiwan ally, said it would take the 17.

  “This is but a small thing we can do to thank our best friend and ally for all it has done for Palau,” Palauan President Johnson Toribiong said in a statement to The Associated Press.

  One lawyer quoted by the New York Times chalked this compromise up to Palau’s proud traditions.

  “ ‘What they will encounter in Palau is paradise,’ said Stuart Beck, an American lawyer who is Palau’s permanent United Nations representative. ‘From the time the first British vessel hit a reef in Palau in 1783, it has welcomed refugees.’ ”

  I’m guessing Palau’s lack of formal ties with China — and thus its willingness to tell Beijing to stick its anger where the sun don’t shine — probably helped.

  So did the US$200 million reportedly offered to Palau by the US. This was aid money, a US State Department hack insisted, which had nothing to do with the Uighur deal.

  I was so moved by the generosity of Palau for these luckless, reluctant and controversial migrants that I wondered to myself: How can I, or Taiwanese generally, come to the aid of the politically misunderstood, the renditioned, the colonized and the oppressed non-terrorists of the world?

  After several hours of deep introspection and soul-searching, I couldn’t think of anything.

  So, in the best philanthropic tradition, old Johnny instead presents to the people of Palau a modest proposal on how to best capitalize on these Uighurs’ versatile talents.

  The Best Job in the World, especially since they’re not being tortured

  Clearly, the Uighurs should be drafted into promoting tourism for the island. It’s the least they can do.

  Like the winner of the recent “The Best Job in the World” contest, they can maintain a blog extolling Palau’s natural beauty — its glistening sand beaches, underwater wonderland, coral riches, spectacular vistas, friendly and unassuming people and modest tax haven status.

  Then, when the tourists do show up, they can join the “Guided Uighur Tour of Palau.”

  Participants will have a chance to shoot coconuts out of the trees with an assault rifle; hunt for Palauan native fauna using improvised explosive devices; join beachside Koran readings (refreshments served, Shirley Temples only) and get a snorkeling tour.

  (Sample dialogue. Tourist: “So, like, what are we gonna see today, dude?” Uighur: “God willing, we will at last spot the elusive albino Tigerfish.”)

  But if the Uighurs don’t adjust well to Palau’s tropical paradise, Taiwan should step up to the plate and take them in. We’re supposed to be allies, after all.

  And I know the perfect place for them: Penghu.

  1. Be a Penghu attraction

  The island chain is gearing up to be the Vegas of the Taiwan Strait. That means casino entertainment a la Siegfried and Roy (pre-tiger-mauling).

  I’ve got just the show: “Uighurs Wobble But Don’t Fall Down,” in which the 17 gregarious Gitmo gladiators perform amazing routines on bicycles while juggling hand grenades and Molotov cocktails and singing traditional Uighur folk songs. Wu’er Kaixi (吾爾開希) will MC (the poor fellow needs something to do to keep his mind off being refused entry to China).

  2. Draft ’em into the Taiwanese army

  When you think about it, we could use a few good men with a healthy antipathy for China and anything remotely resembling combat experience. Hell, just walking through a wasteland passes muster, if you ask me.

  3. Give ’em their own TV variety show

  The potential here is limitless. Have the chaps put on an all-singing, all-dancing, all-devout entertainment spectacular. If the casino gets voted down by the good people of Penghu, they can recycle their cabaret routines on cable.

  I’ve long wondered why it is that so many of our variety shows on TV use a laugh track and fake audience noises — not because the producers can’t be bothered to get audiences into the studio, but because the audiences that do come are about as animated as an urn of ashes.

  Our Uighur friends can turn this bit of Taiwanese cultural entropy on its head. Genuine audience participation could include role-playing Gitmo guard beatings and waterboarding using sprays of perfume instead of water (“Hao xiang o!” squeals the audience member as she wipes the fake Chanel No. 5 off her chin).

  Then the hosts could ring up Chinese police in Urumqi and yank their nasty little chains, Crank Yankers-style, before finishing them off with 30 seconds of withering abuse and sarcasm.

  Hell, I’d pay for a cable subscription just to see that.

  And if all else fails?

  4. Rejoin the proletariat

  I hear MosBurger is hiring. Veggie lamb kebab, anyone?

  Got something to tell Johnny? Get it off your chest: Write to dearjohnny@taipeitimes.com, but put “Dear Johnny” in the subject line or he’ll mark your bouquets and brickbats as spam.
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