A freelance reporter contributed this report to Al Jazeera from Myanmar. He is not being named for his own safety.
A recent journey to western Myanmar has revealed a provincial capital
divided by hatred and thousands of its Muslim residents terrorised by
what they say is a state-sponsored campaign to segregate the population
along ethno-sectarian lines.
Decades-old tension between ethnic
Rakhine Buddhists and Rohingya Muslims in coastal Rakhine state exploded
with new ferocity in June, leaving at least 78 people dead and tens of
thousands homeless.
Exclusive reporting conducted last week in
the highly restricted region suggests that the long-term fallout from
recent violence could be even more damaging than the bloodshed.
The
United Nations has estimated that 80,000 people are still displaced
around the cities of Sittwe and Maungdaw, and international rights
groups continue to denounced Myanmar for its role in the conflict.
As it stands, any thought of reconciliation between local Buddhists and Muslims appears a distant dream.
Many
Rohingya have fled the polarised region, fearing revenge attacks and
increasing discrimination. Their status has sparked international
concern and disagreement.
Rights groups have condemned the
violence. The Myanmar government has denied any wrongdoing, while
neighbouring Bangladesh has rejected an influx of refugees and slashed
access to aid.
For those Rohingya caught up in the dispute, the day-to-day situation is rapidly slipping from desperate to dire.
Social 'non-engagement'
In Sittwe, the capital of Rakhine state, the scars of recent conflict were everywhere.
Burned
homes, shops and entire markets dot the Buddhist-majority city of
nearly 200,000 people. Traditionally Muslim neighbourhoods, such as Shwe
Pyar, Nazi Konetan and Mawlike, were deserted, locked up, or living in
deep secrecy.
Prominent mosques and buildings, many of which were
burned in arson attacks during the violence, now bear signs from the
municipality reading, "No one is allowed to enter." Locals told Al
Jazeera the properties have been taken over by the state. In some areas
of Sittwe, the devastation from the violence that peaked in June is
comparable to Cyclone Nargis, which struck Myanmar in 2008.
Most
striking was the almost completely absence of the Rohingya population
that once made up nearly one-third of the city's residents, and the
largest portion of its working class.
The impact of that loss was
obvious. The Rohingya who worked as the city's ever-present ricksaw
drivers and porters at the jetty and markets are now gone. There are no
signs of Muslims at the airport, the boat shuttles that ferry passengers
to outlying islands, or even the local busses that run Buthidaung to
Maungdaw, two Rohingya-majority states.
Local Hindus, and
residents who appear to be of Indian descent, have taken to applying
bindis to their foreheads to avoid being mistaken for Rohingya.
A
range of interviews found that Buddhist Rakhines had collectively
decided to practice a policy of "non-engagement" with the Rohingya. In
practical terms, this meant a ban on businesses, as well as controlling
access to food, medicine, travel and communication.
According to local sources, Rohingya are no longer allowed to enter the city's largest market or to travel from town to town.
'Facing starvation'
Outside
Sittwe, where the fleeing Rohingya had gathered, the situation was
worse. The village of Bhumei, a few kilometres to the west, was overrun
by thousands of refugees who said they were forced from the city, first
by mobs, then by security troops.
By local accounts, this camp is the biggest of the camps that have sprung up to shelter the displaced city dwellers.
The
refugees endured the current monsoon rains in mud-floored tents, living
mostly on bags of rice provided by the UN's World Food Programme. There
is no clinic, proper bathroom or clean water, as witnessed by Al
Jazeera.
The camp is surrounded by all hours by security troops. Many wonder
if the soldiers are there to protect them from attacks from the Rakhine,
or keep them under guard.
"Many of the refugees who fled from
inside the city are manual labourers and daily wagers. We are having
great difficulties just surviving each day. We fear what will happen to
us if we go back to the town. We can't go there yet. Those who risked
going back to their homes and shops were prevented by authorities on
security grounds," said U Shwe Maung, a Rohingya refugee in Bhumei.
"We
are sharing food with each other. We are now facing starvation. Even
though we are provided food by the WFP, that is not enough for such a
huge number of people like this," he added.
The Rohingya now
forced to live in the Bhumei camp appeared desperate. One woman was
crying in the street with her rain-soaked children on her lap. She said
they were sick and there was no clinic to look after them or food to
eat.
"We want to go back to our homes if the officials provide security for us," said Mahmud Shiko, a Rohingya in Bhumei.
"The police told me I'd find nothing back there if I return, but I still want to go back."
Military accused
The
wave of violence in June was sparked by the alleged rape and murder of a
Buddhist woman by three Muslim men in a Rakhine village.
Both
ethnic communities attacked rival villages and neighborhoods in the days
that followed, destroying and torching homes, businesses and holy
sites, according to a Human Rights Watch (HRW) report released last
week.
The HRW report denounced both sides for the cycle of
reprisal attacks, estimating that the death toll was far higher than the
Myanmar government total of 78.
HRW also blasted Myanmar's
security forces, sent in by the government, for standing down while the
Rakhine and Rohingya groups battled each other. As the attacks escalated
and thousands of Rohingya rioted, the report said that police and
paramilitary trooped fired on Rohingya protesters.
In an outlying
area, according to the report, soldiers shot at Rohingya villagers as
they tried to escape and looted food and valuables from their emptied
homes.
Benjamin Zawacki, a Bangkok-based researcher for Amnesty
International, described the violence as "primarily one-sided, with
Muslims generally and Rohingya specifically the targets and victims".
HRW
says hundreds of men and boys were rounded up in mass arrests, their
whereabouts still unknown. Informal Rohingya estimates put the number of
missing and arrested in the thousands.
On the hushed streets of
Sittwe and in the tent city outside Bhumei, Rohinyga speak of the
brutality of the Rakhine and the Myanmar forces, and of the many loved
ones still missing from the conflict.
Animosity abounds
The alleged victims are not the only combatants talking about the violence.
In
a series of interviews with off-duty security officers at bars and
restaurants in Sittwe, a picture emerged of what some Myanmar military
and police think about the Rohingya.
An ethnic Rakhine soldier
from the 352 Light Infantry Battalion claimed he and his comrades killed
"300 Rohingya" from Myothugyi village near the area of Three Mile
between Buthidaung and Maundaw townships on the night of June 8.
The
soldier, whose name has been withheld, explained that the killings took
place when hundreds of Muslims blocked and tried to overwhelm the truck
carrying his unit. The victims were unaware the truck, a civilian
vehicle used for road construction, was carrying soldiers.
"I put
the butt of my gun here at [the right side of] my waist and shot down
many Muslims while keeping my left hand on magazines so that I could
quickly fill up my bullets," said the soldier, now stationed at a
village outside Maungdaw.
"There were so many dead bodies that we even had to call in a bulldozer to make a mass grave."
Another
ethnic Rakhine soldier boasted that he and his troops killed an
uncountable number of Rohingya in the village of Nyaung Chaung in the
countryside around Maungdaw during the early June crackdown.
"We have even still kept this from our [commanding] officers," he said.
It
was impossible to verify these claims. Even so, the uncaring nature of
the statements shows the animosity that some who wield power have for
the Rohingya.Such anger is easily apparent on the streets.
An
educated Rakhine woman, visiting Maungdaw from the US where she has
lived for 20 years, spoke bitterly when asked if the human rights she
enjoys should be granted to Rohingya to ease tension between the
communities.
"Human rights are for human being only. Are Rohingya humans?" she told Al Jazeera.
"We
are the house owners and they are the guests. When the guests attempt
to drive out the homeowners, human rights are no longer meant for them."
Government 'solution'
The Myanmar government has strongly denied accusations of abuse from rights groups.
"The government has exercised maximum restraint in order to restore
law and order in those particular places," read a statement released on
Monday.
The government also denounced "attempts by some quarters to
politicise and internationalise this situation as a religious issue", a
sidelong reference to the criticism emerging from Muslim countries, such
as Indonesia and Saudi Arabia, over the assaults on Rohingya.
Then again, the government has, over the years, denied the entire
existence of a "Rohingya problem", and even the Rohingya themselves.
Myanmar's formerly military government and its state-run media have
strictly avoided the word "Rohingya", referring to the group instead as
"Bengali Muslims", implying that the people are not indigenous and have
migrated to Myanmar recently a few several decades ago. The Myanmar
immigration minister has repeatedlysaid that there are no Rohingyas in
Myanmar.
Last month, in his last month meeting with a UN High
Commissioner for Refugees delegation, President Thein Sein said refugee
camps or deportation was the only answer for nearly the country estimate
800,000 to a million Rohingya Muslims.
"We will take
responsibility for our ethnic people but it is impossible to accept the
illegally entered Rohingyas, who are not our ethnicity," he told UNHCR
cheif Antonio Guterres, according to the president's official website.
The former general said the "only solution" was to send the Rohingyas to refugee camps run by UNHCR.
"We will send them away if any third country would accept them. This is what we are thinking is the solution to the issue."
Uncertain future
The
government, when it does discuss the issue, blames the resentment and
fear that the Rakhine have for the Rohingya on a potential population
explosion that would see the group seize power.
Outside its
capital city, Rakhine state is nearly two-thirds Rohingya. The adjacent
states of Maungdaw and Buthidaung are already majority Rohingya,
according to official figures.
The population fears, possibly stemming from cultural stereotypes,
are an issue that 72-year-old Rohingya elder Sayyad Abdullah can
appreciate. He has four wives, 28 children and, in his words, "lots" of
grandchildren.
Last week, authorities cited Abdullah's family and
quoted him in press briefings about the so-called population explosion.
Abdullah rejected any desire for an autonomous state and said he was
open to government measure to curb Rohingya families to one wife and two
children, but not at the expense of dignity.
"We just desire equal rights like the Rakhine and the Burmese, and we want nothing more than a normal life," he told Al Jazeera.
Other
Rohingya leaders say the perception of their community is wrong, and
racist. The majority are impoverished farmers and labourers, but some
Rohingya hold university degrees and own many businesses in Sittwe and
Yangon.
Thein Zaw and Kyaw Hla, who are now overseeing the
distribution of food aid at the Bhumei refugee camp, belong to the
wealthiest class of Sittwe. They claim their forefathers have lived in
Rakhine state for 350 years.
As it stands, the vast majority of
Rohingya are denied Myanmar citizenship, cannot own businesses, marry or
relocate. The president's proposal to relegate the Rohingya population
to UNHCR-run camps seems unsustainable and humiliating.
Whether
this long-simmering dispute is founded in race, religion or population,
matters little to the Rohingya stuck in camps such as Bhumei. Nor to the
Rakhine who live in majority Rohingya areas and claim to live in
constant fear of attack.
Some scholars, such as Myanmar expert
Bertil Linter, claim the animosity between Rakhine and Rohingya began
during the Second World War, when Buddhist backed the Japanese and
Muslims the British. Other experts say the rift began centuries before.
In
either case, unless the government or international bodies intervene,
the violence and discrimination seem destined to continue.
