JANE PERLEZ
Sat, 1 March, 2014
DU CHEE YAR TAN, Myanmar — Under the pale moon of Jan. 13, Zaw Patha watched from her bamboo house as Mohmach, 15, her eldest child, was dragged from the kiosk where he slept as guardian of the family business.
The men who abducted the boy struck him with the butt of a rifle until he fell to the dirt path, she said in an interview, gesturing with a sweep of her slender arms. Terrified, she fled into the rice fields. She assumes he is dead.
Sat, 1 March, 2014
DU CHEE YAR TAN, Myanmar — Under the pale moon of Jan. 13, Zaw Patha watched from her bamboo house as Mohmach, 15, her eldest child, was dragged from the kiosk where he slept as guardian of the family business.
The men who abducted the boy struck him with the butt of a rifle until he fell to the dirt path, she said in an interview, gesturing with a sweep of her slender arms. Terrified, she fled into the rice fields. She assumes he is dead.
Three
doors away, Zoya, dressed in a black abaya, showed the latch on her front door
that she said armed men had broken as they stormed in and began beating her
14-year-old son, Mohamed. She has not seen him since.
The
villagers’ accounts back up a UnitedNations investigation,
which concluded that the attack on Du Chee Yar Tan that night resulted in the
deaths of at least 40 men, women and children, one of the worst instances of
violence against the country’s long-persecuted Rohingya Muslims. They were
killed, the United Nations says, by local security forces and civilians of the
rival Rakhine ethnic group, many of them adherents of an extreme Buddhist
ideology who were angered by the kidnapping of a Rakhine policeman by some
Rohingya men.
Myanmar’s
government, intent on international acceptance and investment, has steadfastly
denied the killings occurred in the village, a collection of hamlets spread
across luxuriant rice fields close to Bangladesh and a five-hour ferry ride up
the languid Kaladan River from the state capital, Sittwe. The country’s human
rights commission called the news “unverifiable and unconfirmed.”
The United
Nations findings, however, have become emblematic of the increasing violence
against Myanmar’s Rohingya, an estimated 1.3 million people who are denied
citizenship under national law.
The world
organization’s report — presented to the government by the United Nations and
United States but not made public — documents the initial discovery of the
massacre by five Muslim men who sneaked into the area after the attack. They
found the severed heads of at least 10 Rohingya bobbing in a water tank. Some
of those were children’s.
One of the
men said he was so rattled, and concerned his eyes were playing tricks in the
darkness, that he put his hands in the tank to confirm through touch what he
thought he saw.
The
killings are a test for Myanmar’s government, which has done little to rein in
radical Buddhists, even as it pursues broad economic and political reforms of
policies created by its former military leaders. The government has backed
severe restrictions imposed by local authorities on Muslims’ freedom of
movement and deprivation of basic services in Rakhine State, where most
Rohingya live.
The
bloodletting is also a challenge for Western governments that have showered
economic aid and good will on Myanmar in the hope of winning the fealty of the
resource-rich fledgling democracy. Those countries have mostly kept their
concerns about the treatment of the Rohingya quiet in the hope, diplomats said,
of persuading the government to change its stance.
On Friday,
the crackdown on the ethnic minority continued, when the government ordered Doctors WithoutBorders, the Rohingya’s main health care provider, to stop providing
its services to them. One of the group’s offenses, according to a government
official, was the hiring of too many Rohingya.
Since
2012, many Rohingya, a long-reviled group in Buddhist-majority Myanmar, have
been herded into miserable camps they are not allowed to leave, even for work.
Those still allowed to live in villages like Du Chee Yar Tan are at the mercy
of the local authorities, many of whom are inspired by an extremist Buddhist
group whose monks have used the nation’s new freedoms to travel the countryside
on motorbikes preaching hatred of Muslims.
The latest
carnage is a major embarrassment for the government, which has just assumed an
important position as the annual chair of the Association of Southeast Asian
Nations.
In a sign
of the sensitivity, a visit to the village to assess the conflicting reports
about the night of Jan. 13 was cut short when local police officers briefly
detained two New York Times reporters and a photographer.
In
response to a major 2012 spasm of violence in Sittwe that included the
firebombing of homes and left an estimated 300 dead, most of them Muslims,
President TheinSein said most
Rohingya were in Myanmar illegally, despite their having lived there, in some
cases, for generations. His solution: The United Nations should help deport
them.
Daw Aung
San Suu Kyi, the Nobel peace laureate and opposition leader, is rarely asked at
home about discrimination against the Rohingya because it is broadly accepted
in Myanmar.
She has
defended her lack of action to the foreign news media, saying that taking sides
could further exacerbate tensions, an explanation that even her Western
supporters believe is calculated to avoid offending voters ahead of elections
next year.
Though
there have been attacks on other Muslim groups elsewhere in Myanmar in the past
two years, the animosity toward the Rohingya is especially combustible. Many of
them were brought to the country from India in British colonial times, and many
ethnic Burmese despise them as illegal intruders from what is now Bangladesh.
About
140,000 displaced Rohingya whose homes were destroyed in two major attacks in
2012 now live in more than two dozen camps around Sittwe, a dilapidated trading
center. Largely dependent on assistance from international humanitarian groups,
which are often harassed by the local authorities, the Rohingya remain trapped
in the camps that foreign aid workers call the world’s largest outdoor jails.
The
presidential spokesman, U Ye Htut, said in a telephone interview that plans
last year for “resettlement and rehabilitation” of those in the camps were
suspended because the “Bengalis did not agree and threw stones,” using a term
common in Myanmar for the Rohingya, indicating the belief that they belong in
Bangladesh.
Of the 18
townships in Rakhine State, seven have already barred Muslims from using their
clinics, foreign aid workers said. And a report released last week by Fortify Rights, a group that specializes in the
Rohingya, chronicled a pattern of discrimination by officials that is
intensifying as local authorities appear increasingly desperate to drive the
group out. A dozen leaked documents dated from 1993 to 2008 showed the
government’s efforts to slow the growth of the Rohingya population, including a
requirement for official permission to marry and limits on the number of
children couples can have. The presidential spokesman, Mr. Ye Htut, dismissed
the findings as “a one-sided view of the Bengali.”
As a way
out of the bleak camps, nearly 80,000 Rohingya men, women and children last
year took perilous sea journeys run by smugglers to Thailand and on to Malaysia
or north to Bangladesh. Some drowned in capsized boats, and many were detained
in Thailand, said Chris Lewa, the director of the Arakan Project, a human
rights group.
“The risk
seems worth it to them,” she said.
Constrained
Lives
Muhamed
Fourhkhat, 54, and his family have it better than most in the camps and the
villages around Sittwe. They have managed — in a vastly reduced way — to
replicate the lives they had as the scions of a well-to-do Rohingya quarter in
Sittwe that flourished with markets, a primary school for Muslim and Buddhist
children, a mosque and a monastery.
In the
town, the family lived on the top stories of two concrete buildings laid with
polished teak floors, and worked downstairs at their hardware business. The
land had been passed down through his great-grandfather, Mr. Fourhkhat said.
The
properties were burned by a mob, backed by Rakhine security forces, in June
2012, he said, and bulldozed by the government a few months later. So was every
other structure in the neighborhood.
On a
recent day, the neighborhood was an empty stretch of land overgrown with weeds
and littered with plastic bags waving in the wind. An eerie silence has settled
over what, by many accounts, was once a friendly marketplace that served both
Rakhine and Rohingya.
Mr.
Fourhkhat has never returned, though he could probably bribe a police officer
to get there for a short visit. “Why would I?” he asked, pointing out that his
beard, touched with henna, gave him away as a Muslim. “If I went,” he said,
making a cutting gesture across his neck, “you would find my dead body there.”
He has
built a new, if less sturdy, home of bamboo in a Muslim village that sits
astride the camps inside a security perimeter that is designated by the Rakhine
government as a place Rohingya can live. “I have never lived in bamboo before,”
he said.
Mr.
Fourhkhat’s son, Shwe Maung Thani, 28, is a graduate of Sittwe University in
biology, getting his diploma before the state expelled all Rohingya students
from the school. He has rarely sneaked out of the camp, but tried twice to get
his sick mother to a hospital.
She died
in January after receiving inadequate medical care, he said.
The only
Rohingya doctor in Rakhine State — Dr. Tun Aung, trained before a citizenship law in
1982 disqualified Rohingya for medical school — was jailed after the June 2012
violence. He remains in prison, convicted of inciting violence, despite
requests from the United States government for his release, an American
official said.
A Longtime
Fear
The
Rakhine people, a group of about 2.1 million who are fiercely proud of their
ancient kingdom, known as Arakan, are fearful of the Rohingya based on “an
acute sense of demographic besiegement,” according to a recent article by Kyaw San Wai, a Myanmar citizen who
is a senior analyst at the S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies in
Singapore. It is a feeling shared by many Buddhists across Myanmar.
Given the
lack of a census since 1983, the demographics are imprecise. It is generally
accepted by Myanmar and international officials that about 89 percent of the
roughly 55 million people in Myanmar are Buddhist and 4 percent are Muslim. The
Rohingya are a subset of those Muslims, making the Buddhists’ fear of being
overwhelmed seem irrational though it is nonetheless real, the experts say.
“Among
Burmese Buddhists, there is a widespread belief that Buddhism will disappear in
the future,” Mr. Wai wrote.
While
there is little chance of Muslims taking over the nation, they are enough of a
presence here in Rakhine to make their presence felt politically.
In the
2010 general election, the central government allowed the Rohingya to vote
despite their lack of citizenship, and the results were too close for comfort,
said Khaing Pyi Soe, a senior member of the Rakhine Nationalities Development
Party. The Rakhine candidate in Sittwe won 52 percent of the vote, and the
Rohingya candidate 48 percent. Mr. Khaing Pyi Soe and other officials say the
Rohingya must not be allowed to vote next year because with many young Rakhine
leaving the impoverished region for work elsewhere, the results would be
reversed.
In the
weeks before the attack on Du Chee Yar Tan, monks from the radical Buddhist movement called 969 visited a town nearby. The monks — who
are at least tolerated by the national government, if not admired by some
officials — have stirred anti-Muslim sentiment throughout parts of Myanmar.
There was
no formal connection between the appearance of the monks and the killings,
experts said, but their hate speech has increasingly infected the sloganeering
of Rakhine civilians. Now, they say, even moderate Rakhine feel it would be too
dangerous to stand up for reconciliation.
The United
Nations and the United States have kept up the pressure on Myanmar about the killings
in Du Chee Yar Tan, and Myanmar’s government, which has already conducted two
fast inquiries, has ordered another and included a Muslim on the panel, though
not a Rohingya Muslim.
One factor
may complicate its investigation: The United Nations report on the attack said
nearby villagers reported that in the hours immediately afterward, they saw
Rakhine security forces ferry 20 bodies to surrounding hills, probably to cover
up the murders. Immediately after the slaughter, 22 wounded and traumatized villagers
sought help at rural clinics run by Doctors Without Borders, the group said.
Some were
women traumatized by the horrors they witnessed, according to aid workers
familiar with the cases; others sought treatment for wounds.
At least
some villagers have drifted back to check on their belongings. Zaw Patha, whose
son was dragged from the kiosk, found that the goods he guarded had been looted
and her cows stolen.
Red liquid
signifying blood was splashed on a school not far from her house, a warning to
stay away.
“To an
extent, I understand the worry of the Rakhine about Rohingya population growth
in an area next to Bangladesh,” said the international aid worker. “But at the
same time, you can’t get rid of 1.3 million people.”
Wai Moe
contributed reporting.
A
version of this article appears in print on March 2, 2014, on page A1 of the New York
edition with the headline:
RISE IN BIGOTRY FUELS MASSACRE INSIDE MYANMAR.
Source: The New York Times
Source: The New York Times
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