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| Homeless Rohingya Refugee , homelesss -
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Andrew Buncombe
The Independent
December 05, 2012
Disowned by Burma, consigned to refugee camps
and caught up in ethnic violence, they tell Andrew Buncombe why they
will not give up the fight to win back their communities
What difference does a simple name make? For Mohammad Ali, a resident of
this town's last Muslim neighbourhood, a ghetto cut off by barbed wire
and military checkpoints, it matters to his very core. "Look here. It
asks 'race' and then says 'Rohingya'," the 68-year-old says, touching
his chest with one hand, while pointing with the other to a photocopied
identity card dating from 1974. "We have been here for a long time. My
father, my grandfather, they were born here."
For Shwe Maung, a member of a political party with links to the Buddhist
clergy which wants to force Muslims from the state, the matter of a
name is equally important. These people are not Rohingya Muslims, he
angrily insists, but Bengalis. "They are trying to deceive the world,"
he adds. "They want the world to think they are natives of Rakhine."
Burma's western Rakhine state has for months been gripped by ethnic
violence that has left scores dead and driven up to 100,000 people, the
majority of them Rohingya Muslims, into refugee camps. The Buddhist
community claims they are at risk of being "swallowed up by outsiders"
who they say migrated from Bangladesh, while the Rohingyas, who say they
have lived here for centuries, claim they are the victims of ethnic
cleansing.
To glimpse the scale of what has happened while the world largely looked
away, take the airport road towards the village of Bumay. From there, a
rutted track leads to a series of tented camps in which thousands of
Muslims are living, having been driven from their communities.
The largest is Borouda, home to 15,000 people. Many here fled here after
their properties in Sittwe were attacked in June. Moniyan Khata, a
38-year-old woman, said their neighbourhood had been surrounded by
Buddhists and police. "We had to hide in the lake," she said.
And why were they attacked? "We don't know," she replied. "They want our
land, they want our properties. They want us to leave the country."
At another camp, Te Chaung, were those who fled more recent violence,
both Rohingyas and Kaman Muslims who had escaped by sea from Kyauktaw,
50 miles away. Human Rights Watch released satellite images that
revealed Muslim neighbourhoods there had been destroyed on the night of
22 October. Some who escaped spent six days at sea in fishing boats
containing 100 people.
"I came in one boat, my husband in another and our children were in a
different one," said Chu Kiri, 35, hugging her four children. "At the
time I did not know if my husband and children were dead or alive. It
was only when we reached here we met up."
The trigger for the clashes this summer was the rape of a Buddhist woman
by Muslim men. But tension has existed between the communities for
decades.
The Buddhists of Rakhine, Burma's second-poorest state, have always felt
neglected by the central authorities. They say their history as an
independent kingdom, known as Arakan, has been overlooked. Such
bitterness has been seized on by the Rakhine Nationalities Development
Party (RNDP), a hardline group established to contest elections in 2010
and which holds 18 seats in the state assembly and 15 in the national
parliament. While it says it supports democracy, the RNDP also backs a
1982 law passed by the junta which says the Rohingyas are not citizens,
and says they should leave.
In their office on Sittwe's main street, members of the party's central
committee claimed the Rohingyas were trying to increase their
population. Asked where the Rohingyas should go, one member, Shwe Maung,
swept his palms backwards, as if he were brushing away a fly. Asked if
the party was racist, one member insisted: "We are not anti-Muslim."
While the RNDP says it is secular, it has links to the Buddhist clergy
which has been vocal in its condemnation of the Rohingyas. Abbot
Ariyawantha of the Sittwe's Shwe Zadi monastery, said he had advised the
RNDP leadership on various issues. He repeated allegations the Muslims
were deliberately increasing their numbers and that there was a
"conspiracy to invade Arakan cities". The monk denied claims from
Rohingya victims that monks took part in attacks or that the clergy had
been involved in organising attacks.
Asked about the cause of the violence, he said: "People are angry
because of the rape and because they are trying to take our land. It's
our reaction to that behaviour."
Asked what should happen to the Rohingyas, he said: "We have to identify
illegal immigrants and keep them in refugee camps. If at some time, a
third country wants to accept them we would be happy."
But the Rohingyas insist they have lived in the region for centuries and
say they want to stay. In Sittwe's Aung Mingalar quarter, Aye Maung, an
English teacher, explained how the 7,000 residents were unable to leave
and had lived under a cloud of anxiety since the summer. A curfew is in
place.
Walking through its dirty streets, he pointed to where Muslim homes and
schools had been set alight or bulldozed during the summer violence. On
one side were the homes of a handful of Hindu families and Bollywood
music could be heard playing. To ensure they were not mistaken for
Muslims, the Hindus were flying Buddhist flags.
In a dark shack serving Chinese tea, Mr Maung organised a showing of
hands for those who wanted independence, as opposed to Burmese
citizenship. Without exception, the customers voted for the latter. "We
want to be citizens of Burma. We don't want to leave Rakhine," said Mr
Maung.
The conflict in Rakhine is complex and historic. Several thousand
Buddhists are also in refugee camps after their homes were set on fire
by Muslims. A number have been killed.
Aid organisations expect to be in for the long haul. Marcus Prior, a
spokesman for the World Food Programme, said they were now providing
emergency food supplies to 110,000 people. "We have asked for funding to
see us through to the middle of next year," he said.
Christophe Reltien, Burma head of the European Commission's Humanitarian
Aid and Civil Protection department, said the Muslim population was
growing faster than the non-Muslim population. He said the attacks
against Muslims were not spontaneous. "We know in some areas it was well
organised and not simply people going after a few houses," he said.
"Messages were sent to the [Muslim] community that they should move."
The government of Thein Sein has established a committee to investigate
the violence. The committee includes members of different religions, but
no Rohingyas. Among its members are democracy activists who have spoken
out against the Rohingyas.
Indeed, for observers the most disappointing role has been that played
by opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi who – unlike Barack Obama, who has
defended the Rohingyas – has refused to denounce the attacks and simply
said violence was committed by both sides. At her National League for
Democracy's office, her spokesman, Nyan Wyn, said the Rohingyas' future
should be decided by the 1982 citizenship law. When it was suggested the
Rohingyas had lived in Burma for centuries, he said: "That is not true.
They were not here before 1824."
In Aung Mingalar, the Rohingyas believe Ms Suu Kyi has forgotten them.
"She is keeping silent," said Mr Maung, the teacher. "Perhaps she wants
more votes from Buddhists."
