Don Pathan
The Nation
In mid-2005, less than two years after the current insurgency exploded in the Muslim-majority three southernmost provinces, Thai security officials began to reconnect with exiled separatist leaders. They were hoping that these ageing leaders from various long-standing separatist groups could talk sense into the new generation of militants, locally known as juwae, or "fighter", in the Patani Malay dialect.
One issue the exiled leaders always put on the table whenever they meet the Thai side is the target killings of religious leaders by pro-government death squads. Naturally, the government side points to the collateral damage, as well as target killings of innocent people.
Insurgents insist that spies are fair game. Nevertheless, there have been incidents in which innocent civilians were targeted as part of the tit-for-tat between the two sides. An eye for an eye, so they say.
The problem for observers is that, unlike conflicts in other parts of the world, the insurgents in Thailand's deep South do not surface to make claims. This is also very different from the previous generation of Patani Malay separatists, who began to dwindle in the late 1980s.
Today, the theatre of violence is not just in remote areas but in towns and cities, and no one really knows who's behind the attacks, such as Tuesday's drive-by shooting on a teashop in Narathiwat's Rangae district that killed four and injured four.
For the past nine years, one thing has been clear: the juwae, as part of their coordinated campaign, have continuously turned up the heat, inflicting greater psychological damage with their attacks.
Remember how irritated the authorities were at the very first car bomb near a hotel in Sungai Kolok in October 2009? Today, bombs are hidden on motorbikes, in pickup trucks, cars and under the tarmac, waiting for security personnel to pass by.
Often, these attacks are not as discreet. An attack in Pattani's Mayo district last July, when insurgents in three pickup trucks drove up to soldiers on two motorbikes and began firing at close range, was carried out in front of security cameras. It jolted the entire nation and forced the government into a knee-jerk reaction.
While some attacks are easier to predict, such as an ambush of police or soldiers followed by a brief gunfight, roadside car bombs are not.
As in other sub-national conflicts, security officials are pretty much sitting ducks. But insurgents' choices of targets and tactics, on the other hand, change often. In 2007, more than 100 schools came under arson attack. The following year, less than ten.
According to the website of the Regional Education Office No 12 (www.coad3.org/web/), an entity of the Education Ministry that oversees the southernmost provinces, nine teachers were killed in 2004. But from 2005-2007, 65 teachers were killed. The figure dropped by half from 2008-2011, with an average of ten teachers killed each year. And this year, only two teachers had been killed as of October 3.
All that changed on November 14 when gunmen, believed to be part of a pro-government death squad, killed an imam in Yala's Yaha district. Abdullateh Todir, 49, was a member of the Islamic Committee of Yala, as well as chairman of the Imam Association of Yaha. He is a resident of Tambon Patae, an extremely volatile area in this highly contested region of Thailand.
An exiled leader in the BRN-Coordinate accused the government side of killing the imam. The cleric's relatives and friends agreed. There was an attempt on Abdullateh's life about a year ago but a bullet missed him and took his daughter's life instead. Days later, a team of three Special Forces soldiers were providing security for the imam. The team leader, a lieutenant wearing a sarong and traditional Malay shirt, and accompanied by two armed soldiers in fatigues, rode pillion with Abdullateh up and down the Yaha-Bannang Sata backroads. "We're friends," said the smiling lieutenant, pointing to the imam, as he looked at this correspondent, who visited the cleric the day after the failed attempt on his life.
Abdullateh's neighbourhood, Tambon Patae, is one of the reddest areas classified by authorities as a "red zone." Thai official sources said the Special Forces and civilians may have wanted Abdullateh alive because they saw him as a potential go-between for the authorities wanting to set up a line of communication with the insurgents. But others may have found him guilty by association, said the BRN source.
The killing of Abdullateh set off a wave of retaliation including a motorbike bombing of a Paramilitary Ranger unit in downtown Yala, the bombing of a train bogey carrying security personnel in Narathiwat, arson attacks on a school in Pattani, and attacks against three teachers, two of whom were killed.
As part of the damage control, Thawee Sodsong, head of the Southern Border Provinces Administration Centre (SBPAC), ordered an investigation into the killing of Abullateh.
But that hasn't changed much on the ground. On Tuesday in Narathiwat's Rangae district, a three-man death squad dressed in black jumped out of a pickup truck and fired on a teashop full of local Malay-Muslim villagers. Four, including an 11-month-old baby, were killed and another four were wounded.
Later in the day, in Tambon Panan in Pattani's Mayo district, five gunmen charged into a schoolyard and shot to death the director and a teacher. As in all other incidents, police said the attackers were insurgents.
Frustrations run high, indeed, especially among agencies that are against the use of death squads to even the score. Many believe target killings have created a reverse effect, such as encouraging people to take up arms to avenge the death of their imam or friends or relatives.
Others, like the SBPAC, believe in establishing dialogue with the separatists. The problem is that their dealings with the old guard have not delivered the desired outcome.
"The government fails to end vigilantism allegedly carried out by rogue security units in revenge for insurgent attacks on Buddhist Thai officials and civilians," said Sunai Phasuk, senior researcher at Human Rights Watch.
"Insurgents may claim that abuses by the security forces justify their attacks, but the government should not allow its troops to adopt the same logic. Any attempt to cover up the misconduct of security forces will further escalate a cycle of reprisal violence. And clearly, this is not an environment to build communal trust, necessary for a peace dialogue," Sunai said.
Judging from the violence that has been unleashed over the past four weeks, it may be a long time before the situation returns to normal, whatever normal means.
DON PATHAN - Thailand-based security analyst/development consultant (Photo: Anjaman Pass, Afghanistan, with two Northern Alliance fighters, October 2001)
Saturday, 15 December 2012
Monday, 27 August 2012
Talk of reopened border stirs bad memories for army
By Don Pathan
The Nation
A mobile unit from the Foreign Ministry recently visited the northern border to check on a request from the business sector about opening up a couple of border passes linking Thailand with Myanmar's Shan State.
The argument is that the passes would help promote cross-border trade and boost the local economy. It was also reported that the Third Army Area was not exactly thrilled with the idea for fear it could boost drug traffic coming from the Burmese sector of the Golden Triangle.
On the surface, the Third Army Area has reason for concern. A sizeable chunk of the Myanmar sector of the Golden Triangle is controlled by armed ethnic groups and warlords with either peace or cease-fire agreements with the government of Myanmar.
But given the fact that the Thai-Myanmar border is so porous, it wouldn't make sense to send drug caravans through the proposed checkpoints likely to be manned by security officials.
One of the crossings local businessmen would like to reopen is, of course, at San Thon Doo in Chiang Rai. It leads to Muang Yawn, one of the strongholds of the United Wa State Army (UWSA), a 30,000-strong outfit that produces some of the world's finest heroin. The Wa also floods the streets of Bangkok and other major cities around Southeast Asia with millions of methamphetamine tablets.
Perhaps the question to ask is: who would benefit the most from these proposed border crossings should the government give the green light for them to be reopened? In the mid-1990s, local businesses were using the same argument - about the need for more cross-border trade, and so on. They bypassed the Army and went straight to the National Security Council (NSC) who was authorised by local officials to set up a border crossing, but with a limited capacity. But that was all that was needed - just enough so they could transport their trucks, tractors, and other heavy machinery to help build towns in the UWSA-controlled areas.
All the while, Thai soldiers on the border were not at all comfortable with the idea that Thai citizens were having so many business dealings with the Wa, much less the fact that the outfit had set up three regiments along the common border. The Thai Army and the UWSA already had uneasy relations. Soldiers from both sides would play volleyball almost on a daily basis at the Sun Thon Doo crossing but kept their firearms within reach.
The three Wa regiments were in areas once occupied by the Mong Tai Army (MTA), an outfit under the control of the late Shan opium warlord Khun Sa. One of the regiments is today commanded by a notorious warlord, Wei Hsueh-kang, an ethnic Chinese with a US$2 million (Bt62 million) reward from the United States on his head.
The UWSA helped the Myanmar army defeat the MTA in 1997. But instead of returning to their stronghold along the Sino-Myanmar border, the UWSA stayed put and built new towns - with the help of Thai contractors.
The turning point for the Thai-UWSA relationship came one morning in February 1999 when authorities found nine Thai villagers from Chiang Mai's Fang district beaten to death, with their hands tied behind their backs.
Some authorities believed the gruesome murders were the result of a drug-deal gone wrong, while the locals insisted the victims were innocent villagers out on a hunting trip. In the final analysis, all fingers pointed to the newly built Mong Yawn, a southern stronghold of the UWSA, about 20 kilometres from the Thai northern border, inside Shan State.
Local media played up the stories, and the military and police came out in force blasting the UWSA. A curfew was imposed in a number of districts in Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai, and Prime Minister Chuan Leekpai visited San Thon Doo checkpoint. Sealing off the border crossing that leads directly to the UWSA stronghold seemed a logical move.
For the Thai soldiers along the border, the new anti-UWSA policy meant their daily volleyball game with the Wa troops had to come to an end. For the Thai nationals who had business dealings with the Wa, the closure of the Son Thon Doo crossing meant alternative routes would have to be found. The call for a border checkpoint in nearby Baan San Maket in Chiang Rai was quickly shot down by the NSC, the very organisation that approved the opening of the Son Thon Doo crossing just a year ago in earlier 1998.
Thai businessmen turned to the Mae Sai-Tachilek border crossing in Chiang Rai to transport their goods to Mong Yawn, while a number of Thai workers began to use the Kok River to travel back and forth to their work sites. The final move came in August 1999 when the NSC declared the UWSA-controlled area off-limits and ordered all Thai nationals and construction companies to return home.
The UWSA desired an entrance into Thailand more than anything. The drug army wanted to befriend Thailand because it does not want to rely solely on China as its only window to the world. The Wa didn't trust Myanmar in spite of signing a cease-fire agreement with it in 1989. In other words, the Wa wanted to diversify their relationships. Pretty ambitious, indeed, for a drug army many of whom were head-hunters just a generation ago.
But the aftermath of the Fang massacre heightened the hostility between the two sides that would turned into a full blown battle. In March 2002 an advance unit was dispatched to Chiang Mai's Wiang Haeng district as part of routine security details to prepare for the visit of HM the Queen of Thailand, who was due to arrive later in the day.
But out of the blue, a Wa drug caravan slithering through Thai territory was intercepted by HM's security details. A firefight went on for four hours, ending with the death of a Thai soldier. Her Majesty was advised to remain in her palace in Chiang Mai.
For the Thai Army, the clash was not just another border skirmish with another Wa drug caravan. The fact that the Queen could not travel freely in her own kingdom was a deep affront to the soldiers. Again, all fingers pointed to the UWSA. It was generally agreed the pro-Myanmar outfit had to be taught a lesson.
Two months later in a pre-dawn raid in May 20, 2002, Thai infantry units and armoured personnel carriers (APCs) supported by light and heavy artillery launched an all-out offensive to take out positions manned by the UWSA.
The APCs, along with soldiers from Special Forces units, cavalry squadrons and artillery units, had been seen taking up positions along the northern border in Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai and Mae Hong Son provinces in the past weeks to await instruction. It was supposed to be a military training exercise, the Surasri 143. Few had thought from the onset this field exercise would turn out to be one of the biggest military operations since the Vietnam War.
The battles took place well within Myanmar's territory and went on throughout the day. Artillery fire supported the advancing Thai soldiers carrying out search-and-destroy missions against the UWSA's drug labs and military outposts just kilometres inside the Myanmar border. At the Kiw Pha Wok border checkpoint in Chiang Mai's Chiang Dao district, hundreds of Thai villagers fled deeper inside the country and took refuge at a nearby Buddhist temple until it was safe to return to their villages in a day or two.
The following day, Yangon protested "in the strongest possible terms that the unprovoked attack violated our sovereignty and territorial integrity". Then Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra was speechless but the Thai Army insisted Surasri 143 was just a military exercise.
The Myanmar Army held a press conference condemning the Thai military action and made reference to Thailand as "Ayothaya" - to remind the Thai nation of a past that Thailand didn't want to remember. Bilateral ties went into a tailspin and it would be some time before some form of normalcy returned to the border.
The Nation
A mobile unit from the Foreign Ministry recently visited the northern border to check on a request from the business sector about opening up a couple of border passes linking Thailand with Myanmar's Shan State.
The argument is that the passes would help promote cross-border trade and boost the local economy. It was also reported that the Third Army Area was not exactly thrilled with the idea for fear it could boost drug traffic coming from the Burmese sector of the Golden Triangle.
On the surface, the Third Army Area has reason for concern. A sizeable chunk of the Myanmar sector of the Golden Triangle is controlled by armed ethnic groups and warlords with either peace or cease-fire agreements with the government of Myanmar.
But given the fact that the Thai-Myanmar border is so porous, it wouldn't make sense to send drug caravans through the proposed checkpoints likely to be manned by security officials.
One of the crossings local businessmen would like to reopen is, of course, at San Thon Doo in Chiang Rai. It leads to Muang Yawn, one of the strongholds of the United Wa State Army (UWSA), a 30,000-strong outfit that produces some of the world's finest heroin. The Wa also floods the streets of Bangkok and other major cities around Southeast Asia with millions of methamphetamine tablets.
Perhaps the question to ask is: who would benefit the most from these proposed border crossings should the government give the green light for them to be reopened? In the mid-1990s, local businesses were using the same argument - about the need for more cross-border trade, and so on. They bypassed the Army and went straight to the National Security Council (NSC) who was authorised by local officials to set up a border crossing, but with a limited capacity. But that was all that was needed - just enough so they could transport their trucks, tractors, and other heavy machinery to help build towns in the UWSA-controlled areas.
All the while, Thai soldiers on the border were not at all comfortable with the idea that Thai citizens were having so many business dealings with the Wa, much less the fact that the outfit had set up three regiments along the common border. The Thai Army and the UWSA already had uneasy relations. Soldiers from both sides would play volleyball almost on a daily basis at the Sun Thon Doo crossing but kept their firearms within reach.
The three Wa regiments were in areas once occupied by the Mong Tai Army (MTA), an outfit under the control of the late Shan opium warlord Khun Sa. One of the regiments is today commanded by a notorious warlord, Wei Hsueh-kang, an ethnic Chinese with a US$2 million (Bt62 million) reward from the United States on his head.
The UWSA helped the Myanmar army defeat the MTA in 1997. But instead of returning to their stronghold along the Sino-Myanmar border, the UWSA stayed put and built new towns - with the help of Thai contractors.
The turning point for the Thai-UWSA relationship came one morning in February 1999 when authorities found nine Thai villagers from Chiang Mai's Fang district beaten to death, with their hands tied behind their backs.
Some authorities believed the gruesome murders were the result of a drug-deal gone wrong, while the locals insisted the victims were innocent villagers out on a hunting trip. In the final analysis, all fingers pointed to the newly built Mong Yawn, a southern stronghold of the UWSA, about 20 kilometres from the Thai northern border, inside Shan State.
Local media played up the stories, and the military and police came out in force blasting the UWSA. A curfew was imposed in a number of districts in Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai, and Prime Minister Chuan Leekpai visited San Thon Doo checkpoint. Sealing off the border crossing that leads directly to the UWSA stronghold seemed a logical move.
For the Thai soldiers along the border, the new anti-UWSA policy meant their daily volleyball game with the Wa troops had to come to an end. For the Thai nationals who had business dealings with the Wa, the closure of the Son Thon Doo crossing meant alternative routes would have to be found. The call for a border checkpoint in nearby Baan San Maket in Chiang Rai was quickly shot down by the NSC, the very organisation that approved the opening of the Son Thon Doo crossing just a year ago in earlier 1998.
Thai businessmen turned to the Mae Sai-Tachilek border crossing in Chiang Rai to transport their goods to Mong Yawn, while a number of Thai workers began to use the Kok River to travel back and forth to their work sites. The final move came in August 1999 when the NSC declared the UWSA-controlled area off-limits and ordered all Thai nationals and construction companies to return home.
The UWSA desired an entrance into Thailand more than anything. The drug army wanted to befriend Thailand because it does not want to rely solely on China as its only window to the world. The Wa didn't trust Myanmar in spite of signing a cease-fire agreement with it in 1989. In other words, the Wa wanted to diversify their relationships. Pretty ambitious, indeed, for a drug army many of whom were head-hunters just a generation ago.
But the aftermath of the Fang massacre heightened the hostility between the two sides that would turned into a full blown battle. In March 2002 an advance unit was dispatched to Chiang Mai's Wiang Haeng district as part of routine security details to prepare for the visit of HM the Queen of Thailand, who was due to arrive later in the day.
But out of the blue, a Wa drug caravan slithering through Thai territory was intercepted by HM's security details. A firefight went on for four hours, ending with the death of a Thai soldier. Her Majesty was advised to remain in her palace in Chiang Mai.
For the Thai Army, the clash was not just another border skirmish with another Wa drug caravan. The fact that the Queen could not travel freely in her own kingdom was a deep affront to the soldiers. Again, all fingers pointed to the UWSA. It was generally agreed the pro-Myanmar outfit had to be taught a lesson.
Two months later in a pre-dawn raid in May 20, 2002, Thai infantry units and armoured personnel carriers (APCs) supported by light and heavy artillery launched an all-out offensive to take out positions manned by the UWSA.
The APCs, along with soldiers from Special Forces units, cavalry squadrons and artillery units, had been seen taking up positions along the northern border in Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai and Mae Hong Son provinces in the past weeks to await instruction. It was supposed to be a military training exercise, the Surasri 143. Few had thought from the onset this field exercise would turn out to be one of the biggest military operations since the Vietnam War.
The battles took place well within Myanmar's territory and went on throughout the day. Artillery fire supported the advancing Thai soldiers carrying out search-and-destroy missions against the UWSA's drug labs and military outposts just kilometres inside the Myanmar border. At the Kiw Pha Wok border checkpoint in Chiang Mai's Chiang Dao district, hundreds of Thai villagers fled deeper inside the country and took refuge at a nearby Buddhist temple until it was safe to return to their villages in a day or two.
The following day, Yangon protested "in the strongest possible terms that the unprovoked attack violated our sovereignty and territorial integrity". Then Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra was speechless but the Thai Army insisted Surasri 143 was just a military exercise.
The Myanmar Army held a press conference condemning the Thai military action and made reference to Thailand as "Ayothaya" - to remind the Thai nation of a past that Thailand didn't want to remember. Bilateral ties went into a tailspin and it would be some time before some form of normalcy returned to the border.
Talk of reopened border stirs bad memories for army
Don Pathan
The Nation
A mobile unit from the Foreign Ministry recently visited the northern border to check on a request from the business sector about opening up a couple of border passes linking Thailand with Myanmar's Shan State.
The argument is that the passes would help promote cross-border trade and boost the local economy. It was also reported that the Third Army Area was not exactly thrilled with the idea for fear it could boost drug traffic coming from the Burmese sector of the Golden Triangle.
On the surface, the Third Army Area has reason for concern. A sizeable chunk of the Myanmar sector of the Golden Triangle is controlled by armed ethnic groups and warlords with either peace or cease-fire agreements with the government of Myanmar.
But given the fact that the Thai-Myanmar border is so porous, it wouldn't make sense to send drug caravans through the proposed checkpoints likely to be manned by security officials.
One of the crossings local businessmen would like to reopen is, of course, at San Thon Doo in Chiang Rai. It leads to Muang Yawn, one of the strongholds of the United Wa State Army (UWSA), a 30,000-strong outfit that produces some of the world's finest heroin. The Wa also floods the streets of Bangkok and other major cities around Southeast Asia with millions of methamphetamine tablets.
Perhaps the question to ask is: who would benefit the most from these proposed border crossings should the government give the green light for them to be reopened? In the mid-1990s, local businesses were using the same argument - about the need for more cross-border trade, and so on. They bypassed the Army and went straight to the National Security Council (NSC) who was authorised by local officials to set up a border crossing, but with a limited capacity. But that was all that was needed - just enough so they could transport their trucks, tractors, and other heavy machinery to help build towns in the UWSA-controlled areas.
All the while, Thai soldiers on the border were not at all comfortable with the idea that Thai citizens were having so many business dealings with the Wa, much less the fact that the outfit had set up three regiments along the common border. The Thai Army and the UWSA already had uneasy relations. Soldiers from both sides would play volleyball almost on a daily basis at the Sun Thon Doo crossing but kept their firearms within reach.
The three Wa regiments were in areas once occupied by the Mong Tai Army (MTA), an outfit under the control of the late Shan opium warlord Khun Sa. One of the regiments is today commanded by a notorious warlord, Wei Hsueh-kang, an ethnic Chinese with a US$2 million (Bt62 million) reward from the United States on his head.
The UWSA helped the Myanmar army defeat the MTA in 1997. But instead of returning to their stronghold along the Sino-Myanmar border, the UWSA stayed put and built new towns - with the help of Thai contractors.
The turning point for the Thai-UWSA relationship came one morning in February 1999 when authorities found nine Thai villagers from Chiang Mai's Fang district beaten to death, with their hands tied behind their backs.
Some authorities believed the gruesome murders were the result of a drug-deal gone wrong, while the locals insisted the victims were innocent villagers out on a hunting trip. In the final analysis, all fingers pointed to the newly built Mong Yawn, a southern stronghold of the UWSA, about 20 kilometres from the Thai northern border, inside Shan State.
Local media played up the stories, and the military and police came out in force blasting the UWSA. A curfew was imposed in a number of districts in Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai, and Prime Minister Chuan Leekpai visited San Thon Doo checkpoint. Sealing off the border crossing that leads directly to the UWSA stronghold seemed a logical move.
For the Thai soldiers along the border, the new anti-UWSA policy meant their daily volleyball game with the Wa troops had to come to an end. For the Thai nationals who had business dealings with the Wa, the closure of the Son Thon Doo crossing meant alternative routes would have to be found. The call for a border checkpoint in nearby Baan San Maket in Chiang Rai was quickly shot down by the NSC, the very organisation that approved the opening of the Son Thon Doo crossing just a year ago in earlier 1998.
Thai businessmen turned to the Mae Sai-Tachilek border crossing in Chiang Rai to transport their goods to Mong Yawn, while a number of Thai workers began to use the Kok River to travel back and forth to their work sites. The final move came in August 1999 when the NSC declared the UWSA-controlled area off-limits and ordered all Thai nationals and construction companies to return home.
The UWSA desired an entrance into Thailand more than anything. The drug army wanted to befriend Thailand because it does not want to rely solely on China as its only window to the world. The Wa didn't trust Myanmar in spite of signing a cease-fire agreement with it in 1989. In other words, the Wa wanted to diversify their relationships. Pretty ambitious, indeed, for a drug army many of whom were head-hunters just a generation ago.
But the aftermath of the Fang massacre heightened the hostility between the two sides that would turned into a full blown battle. In March 2002 an advance unit was dispatched to Chiang Mai's Wiang Haeng district as part of routine security details to prepare for the visit of HM the Queen of Thailand, who was due to arrive later in the day.
But out of the blue, a Wa drug caravan slithering through Thai territory was intercepted by HM's security details. A firefight went on for four hours, ending with the death of a Thai soldier. Her Majesty was advised to remain in her palace in Chiang Mai.
For the Thai Army, the clash was not just another border skirmish with another Wa drug caravan. The fact that the Queen could not travel freely in her own kingdom was a deep affront to the soldiers. Again, all fingers pointed to the UWSA. It was generally agreed the pro-Myanmar outfit had to be taught a lesson.
Two months later in a pre-dawn raid in May 20, 2002, Thai infantry units and armoured personnel carriers (APCs) supported by light and heavy artillery launched an all-out offensive to take out positions manned by the UWSA.
The APCs, along with soldiers from Special Forces units, cavalry squadrons and artillery units, had been seen taking up positions along the northern border in Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai and Mae Hong Son provinces in the past weeks to await instruction. It was supposed to be a military training exercise, the Surasri 143. Few had thought from the onset this field exercise would turn out to be one of the biggest military operations since the Vietnam War.
The battles took place well within Myanmar's territory and went on throughout the day. Artillery fire supported the advancing Thai soldiers carrying out search-and-destroy missions against the UWSA's drug labs and military outposts just kilometres inside the Myanmar border. At the Kiw Pha Wok border checkpoint in Chiang Mai's Chiang Dao district, hundreds of Thai villagers fled deeper inside the country and took refuge at a nearby Buddhist temple until it was safe to return to their villages in a day or two.
The following day, Yangon protested "in the strongest possible terms that the unprovoked attack violated our sovereignty and territorial integrity". Then Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra was speechless but the Thai Army insisted Surasri 143 was just a military exercise.
The Myanmar Army held a press conference condemning the Thai military action and made reference to Thailand as "Ayothaya" - to remind the Thai nation of a past that Thailand didn't want to remember. Bilateral ties went into a tailspin and it would be some time before some form of normalcy returned to the border.
The Nation
A mobile unit from the Foreign Ministry recently visited the northern border to check on a request from the business sector about opening up a couple of border passes linking Thailand with Myanmar's Shan State.
The argument is that the passes would help promote cross-border trade and boost the local economy. It was also reported that the Third Army Area was not exactly thrilled with the idea for fear it could boost drug traffic coming from the Burmese sector of the Golden Triangle.
On the surface, the Third Army Area has reason for concern. A sizeable chunk of the Myanmar sector of the Golden Triangle is controlled by armed ethnic groups and warlords with either peace or cease-fire agreements with the government of Myanmar.
But given the fact that the Thai-Myanmar border is so porous, it wouldn't make sense to send drug caravans through the proposed checkpoints likely to be manned by security officials.
One of the crossings local businessmen would like to reopen is, of course, at San Thon Doo in Chiang Rai. It leads to Muang Yawn, one of the strongholds of the United Wa State Army (UWSA), a 30,000-strong outfit that produces some of the world's finest heroin. The Wa also floods the streets of Bangkok and other major cities around Southeast Asia with millions of methamphetamine tablets.
Perhaps the question to ask is: who would benefit the most from these proposed border crossings should the government give the green light for them to be reopened? In the mid-1990s, local businesses were using the same argument - about the need for more cross-border trade, and so on. They bypassed the Army and went straight to the National Security Council (NSC) who was authorised by local officials to set up a border crossing, but with a limited capacity. But that was all that was needed - just enough so they could transport their trucks, tractors, and other heavy machinery to help build towns in the UWSA-controlled areas.
All the while, Thai soldiers on the border were not at all comfortable with the idea that Thai citizens were having so many business dealings with the Wa, much less the fact that the outfit had set up three regiments along the common border. The Thai Army and the UWSA already had uneasy relations. Soldiers from both sides would play volleyball almost on a daily basis at the Sun Thon Doo crossing but kept their firearms within reach.
The three Wa regiments were in areas once occupied by the Mong Tai Army (MTA), an outfit under the control of the late Shan opium warlord Khun Sa. One of the regiments is today commanded by a notorious warlord, Wei Hsueh-kang, an ethnic Chinese with a US$2 million (Bt62 million) reward from the United States on his head.
The UWSA helped the Myanmar army defeat the MTA in 1997. But instead of returning to their stronghold along the Sino-Myanmar border, the UWSA stayed put and built new towns - with the help of Thai contractors.
The turning point for the Thai-UWSA relationship came one morning in February 1999 when authorities found nine Thai villagers from Chiang Mai's Fang district beaten to death, with their hands tied behind their backs.
Some authorities believed the gruesome murders were the result of a drug-deal gone wrong, while the locals insisted the victims were innocent villagers out on a hunting trip. In the final analysis, all fingers pointed to the newly built Mong Yawn, a southern stronghold of the UWSA, about 20 kilometres from the Thai northern border, inside Shan State.
Local media played up the stories, and the military and police came out in force blasting the UWSA. A curfew was imposed in a number of districts in Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai, and Prime Minister Chuan Leekpai visited San Thon Doo checkpoint. Sealing off the border crossing that leads directly to the UWSA stronghold seemed a logical move.
For the Thai soldiers along the border, the new anti-UWSA policy meant their daily volleyball game with the Wa troops had to come to an end. For the Thai nationals who had business dealings with the Wa, the closure of the Son Thon Doo crossing meant alternative routes would have to be found. The call for a border checkpoint in nearby Baan San Maket in Chiang Rai was quickly shot down by the NSC, the very organisation that approved the opening of the Son Thon Doo crossing just a year ago in earlier 1998.
Thai businessmen turned to the Mae Sai-Tachilek border crossing in Chiang Rai to transport their goods to Mong Yawn, while a number of Thai workers began to use the Kok River to travel back and forth to their work sites. The final move came in August 1999 when the NSC declared the UWSA-controlled area off-limits and ordered all Thai nationals and construction companies to return home.
The UWSA desired an entrance into Thailand more than anything. The drug army wanted to befriend Thailand because it does not want to rely solely on China as its only window to the world. The Wa didn't trust Myanmar in spite of signing a cease-fire agreement with it in 1989. In other words, the Wa wanted to diversify their relationships. Pretty ambitious, indeed, for a drug army many of whom were head-hunters just a generation ago.
But the aftermath of the Fang massacre heightened the hostility between the two sides that would turned into a full blown battle. In March 2002 an advance unit was dispatched to Chiang Mai's Wiang Haeng district as part of routine security details to prepare for the visit of HM the Queen of Thailand, who was due to arrive later in the day.
But out of the blue, a Wa drug caravan slithering through Thai territory was intercepted by HM's security details. A firefight went on for four hours, ending with the death of a Thai soldier. Her Majesty was advised to remain in her palace in Chiang Mai.
For the Thai Army, the clash was not just another border skirmish with another Wa drug caravan. The fact that the Queen could not travel freely in her own kingdom was a deep affront to the soldiers. Again, all fingers pointed to the UWSA. It was generally agreed the pro-Myanmar outfit had to be taught a lesson.
Two months later in a pre-dawn raid in May 20, 2002, Thai infantry units and armoured personnel carriers (APCs) supported by light and heavy artillery launched an all-out offensive to take out positions manned by the UWSA.
The APCs, along with soldiers from Special Forces units, cavalry squadrons and artillery units, had been seen taking up positions along the northern border in Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai and Mae Hong Son provinces in the past weeks to await instruction. It was supposed to be a military training exercise, the Surasri 143. Few had thought from the onset this field exercise would turn out to be one of the biggest military operations since the Vietnam War.
The battles took place well within Myanmar's territory and went on throughout the day. Artillery fire supported the advancing Thai soldiers carrying out search-and-destroy missions against the UWSA's drug labs and military outposts just kilometres inside the Myanmar border. At the Kiw Pha Wok border checkpoint in Chiang Mai's Chiang Dao district, hundreds of Thai villagers fled deeper inside the country and took refuge at a nearby Buddhist temple until it was safe to return to their villages in a day or two.
The following day, Yangon protested "in the strongest possible terms that the unprovoked attack violated our sovereignty and territorial integrity". Then Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra was speechless but the Thai Army insisted Surasri 143 was just a military exercise.
The Myanmar Army held a press conference condemning the Thai military action and made reference to Thailand as "Ayothaya" - to remind the Thai nation of a past that Thailand didn't want to remember. Bilateral ties went into a tailspin and it would be some time before some form of normalcy returned to the border.
Talk of reopened border stirs bad memories for army
Don Pathan
The Nation
A mobile unit from the Foreign Ministry recently visited the northern border to check on a request from the business sector about opening up a couple of border passes linking Thailand with Myanmar's Shan State.
The argument is that the passes would help promote cross-border trade and boost the local economy. It was also reported that the Third Army Area was not exactly thrilled with the idea for fear it could boost drug traffic coming from the Burmese sector of the Golden Triangle.
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| Wa opium farmers on the outskirts of Panghsang (Pathan-2003) |
But given the fact that the Thai-Myanmar border is so porous, it wouldn’t make sense to send drug caravans through the proposed checkpoints likely to be manned by security officials.
One of the crossings local businessmen would like to reopen is, of course, at San Thon Doo in Chiang Rai. It leads to Muang Yawn, one of the strongholds of the United Wa State Army (UWSA), a 30,000-strong outfit that produces some of the world’s finest heroin. The Wa also floods the streets of Bangkok and other major cities around Southeast Asia with millions of methamphetamine tablets.
Perhaps the question to ask is: who would benefit the most from these proposed border crossings should the government give the green light for them to be reopened? In the mid-1990s, local businesses were using the same argument – about the need for more cross-border trade, and so on. They bypassed the Army and went straight to the National Security Council (NSC) who was authorised by local officials to set up a border crossing but with a limited capacity. But that was all that was needed – just enough so they could transport their trucks, tractors, and other heavy machinery to help build towns in the UWSA-controlled areas.
All the while, Thai soldiers on the border were not at all comfortable with the idea that Thai citizens were having so many business dealings with the Wa, much less the fact that the outfit had set up three regiments along the common border. The Thai Army and the UWSA already had uneasy relations. Soldiers from both sides would play volleyball almost on a daily basis at the Sun Thon Doo crossing but kept their firearms within reach.
The three Wa regiments were in areas once occupied by the Mong Tai Army (MTA), an outfit under the control of the late Shan opium warlord Khun Sa. One of the regiments is today commanded by a notorious warlord, Wei Hsueh-kang, an ethnic Chinese with a US$2 million (Bt62 million) reward from the United States on his head.
The UWSA helped the Myanmar army defeat the MTA in 1997. But instead of returning to their stronghold along the Sino-Myanmar border, the UWSA stayed put and built new towns – with the help of Thai contractors.
The turning point for the Thai-UWSA relationship came one morning in February 1999 when authorities found nine Thai villagers from Chiang Mai’s Fang district beaten to death, with their hands tied behind their backs.
Some authorities believed the gruesome murders were the result of a drug deal gone wrong, while the locals insisted the victims were innocent villagers out on a hunting trip. In the final analysis, all fingers pointed to the newly built Mong Yawn, a southern stronghold of the UWSA, about 20 kilometres from the Thai northern border, inside Shan State.
Local media played up the stories, and the military and police came out in force blasting the UWSA. A curfew was imposed in a number of districts in Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai, and Prime Minister Chuan Leekpai visited San Thon Doo checkpoint. Sealing off the border crossing that leads directly to the UWSA stronghold seemed a logical move.
For the Thai soldiers along the border, the new anti-UWSA policy meant their daily volleyball game with the Wa troops had to come to an end. For the Thai nationals who had business dealings with the Wa, the closure of the Son Thon Doo crossing meant alternative routes would have to be found. The call for a border checkpoint in nearby Baan San Maket in Chiang Rai was quickly shot down by the NSC, the very organisation that approved the opening of the Son Thon Doo crossing just a year ago in earlier 1998.
Thai businessmen turned to the Mae Sai-Tachilek border crossing in Chiang Rai to transport their goods to Mong Yawn, while a number of Thai workers began to use the Kok River to travel back and forth to their work sites. The final move came in August 1999 when the NSC declared the UWSA-controlled area off-limits and ordered all Thai nationals and construction companies to return home.
The UWSA desired an entrance into Thailand more than anything. The drug army wanted to befriend Thailand because it does not want to rely solely on China as its only window to the world. The Wa didn’t trust Myanmar in spite of signing a cease-fire agreement with it in 1989. In other words, the Wa wanted to diversify their relationships. Pretty ambitious, indeed, for a drug army many of whom were head-hunters just a generation ago.
But the aftermath of the Fang massacre heightened the hostility between the two sides that would turned into a full blown battle. In March 2002 an advance unit was dispatched to Chiang Mai’s Wiang Haeng district as part of routine security details to prepare for the visit of HM the Queen of Thailand, who was due to arrive later in the day.
But out of the blue, a Wa drug caravan slithering through Thai territory was intercepted by HM’s security details. A firefight went on for four hours, ending with the death of a Thai soldier. Her Majesty was advised to remain in her palace in Chiang Mai.
For the Thai Army, the clash was not just another border skirmish with another Wa drug caravan. The fact that the Queen could not travel freely in her own kingdom was a deep affront to the soldiers. Again, all fingers pointed to the UWSA. It was generally agreed the pro-Myanmar outfit had to be taught a lesson.
Two months later in a pre-dawn raid in May 20, 2002, Thai infantry units and armoured personnel carriers (APCs) supported by light and heavy artillery launched an all-out offensive to take out positions manned by the UWSA.
The APCs, along with soldiers from Special Forces units, cavalry squadrons and artillery units, had been seen taking up positions along the northern border in Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai and Mae Hong Son provinces in the past weeks to await instruction. It was supposed to be a military training exercise, the Surasri 143. Few had thought from the onset this field exercise would turn out to be one of the biggest military operations since the Vietnam War.
The battles took place well within Myanmar’s territory and went on throughout the day. Artillery fire supported the advancing Thai soldiers carrying out search-and-destroy missions against the UWSA’s drug labs and military outposts just kilometres inside the Myanmar border. At the Kiw Pha Wok border checkpoint in Chiang Mai’s Chiang Dao district, hundreds of Thai villagers fled deeper inside the country and took refuge at a nearby Buddhist temple until it was safe to return to their villages in a day or two.
The following day, Yangon protested “in the strongest possible terms that the unprovoked attack violated our sovereignty and territorial integrity”. Then Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra was speechless but the Thai Army insisted Surasri 143 was just a military exercise.
The Myanmar Army held a press conference condemning the Thai military action and made reference to Thailand as “Ayothaya” – to remind the Thai nation of a past that Thailand didn’t want to remember. Bilateral ties went into a tailspin and it would be some time before some form of normalcy returned to the border.
Monday, 6 August 2012
Lights, camera, action!
The recent spike in violence in the South is spearheaded by a new crop of insurgents who often choose to attack in front of security cameras, striving for a bigger psychological impact.
Don Pathan
The Nation on Sunday
Pattani
It was like synchronised swimming. The two pickup trucks came from behind and neatly positioned themselves adjacent to each of the two motorbikes. Within a split second of coming neck-and-neck with the two motorbikes, the gunmen on the back of the pickups commenced fire, riddling four soldiers with bullets from close range.
Another pickup truck flanked the third motorbike and kept the two remaining soldiers at bay with sporadic gunfire. Outgunned and outnumbered, the soldiers stayed put and then retreated.
The timing and coordination of the Ma-Yor attack was dead on. But this was not Olympic sport. In fact, such incidents take place almost on a daily basis in the three southernmost border provinces of Pattani, Yala and Narathiwat where more than 5,000 have died in the violence.
It didn't take long for the footage to make its way to local television, YouTube and other media. The vividness of the Ma-Yor attack sent a big chill throughout the country and shook up security officials and policy-makers, who are now forced to explain the spike in violence despite claims of progress on the ground.
"The insurgents appeared to be more daring and bold, often choosing to attack in front of security cameras. They are looking to create a greater psychological impact with little regard to civilian casualties, said Human Rights Watch's Sunai Phasuk.
Leaders in the exiled community confirmed the analysis, saying the current crop of militants, locally referred to as juwae, or fighters in Patani Malay dialect, have stepped up their attacks in recent months as part of their ongoing strategy to make the area as ungovernable as possible.
As a sign of desperation, the government quickly appointed Deputy PM Chalerm Yoobamrung, a veteran but erratic politician, to take care of security matters in the deep South.
Angkhana Neelaphaijit, chairperson of the Justice for Peace Foundation, called the move a "knee-jerk" reaction. "I believe Prime Minister Yingluck needs to take direct charge of the situation in the South, instead of passing the buck to a politician who has a reputation of disrespecting other people's viewpoints."
Two days after the announcement, the insurgents launched an attack on CS Pattani Hotel, a place popular among foreigners and local VIPs visiting the deep South. And last Wednesday, a public school came under arson attack. The incident was a chilling reminder of 2007, when more than 100 public schools were burned down by insurgents.
Assistant Prof Srisompob Jitpiromsri, the director of Prince of Songkhla University-based Deep South Watch, believes the insurgents are drifting towards a higher level of information warfare. "It was as if they were performing for the camera, as if they wanted the authorities to see what they are capable of doing," said Srisompob, in reference to the Ma-Yor and other attacks.
"Insurgency and terrorism are essentially communicative actions. In the Ma-Yor operation, the insurgency scored big and managed to use the government's communication equipment to get their point across," Srisompob said.
If the insurgents in the deep South are looking to create greater psychological impact by their activities, then making the area ungovernable may no longer be enough for them.
For the time being, said Sunai, all agencies are hard-pressed to come up with a better explanation and analysis than the usual simplistic line that described the militants as drug-crazy youth who have embraced false Islamic teachings and are being taught a distorted version of Thailand's history. The spike in violence over the past eight months coincides with the government's effort to carry out secret talks with leaders of long-standing separatist groups in exile. They are hoping the old guard could talk sense to the new generation of militants. The talks led up to a secret meeting last March between fugitive Thaksin Shinawatra, the de facto leader of the current government, and about 16 Patani Malay separatist leaders.
Thaksin thought his presence would make a difference. But as it turned out, the meeting was boycotted by the Barisan Revolusi Nasional-Coordinate (BRN-C), the one group that has the best working relations with the new generation of militants currently operating on the ground.
Two weeks after the meeting, militants on the ground carried out triple bomb attacks on a short stretch of a busy street in downtown Yala, killing 10 and injuring more than 100 people. The same day also saw a car bomb going off at a basement parking lot in a downtown hotel in Hat Yai that killed three and injured more than 400.
Sunai called the March 31 attack a slap in the face for Thaksin and the so-called peace initiative of the government. With the secret peace move floundering and violence rising, all eyes are on Yingluck to see what steps she will take.
Don Pathan
The Nation on Sunday
Pattani
It was like synchronised swimming. The two pickup trucks came from behind and neatly positioned themselves adjacent to each of the two motorbikes. Within a split second of coming neck-and-neck with the two motorbikes, the gunmen on the back of the pickups commenced fire, riddling four soldiers with bullets from close range.
Another pickup truck flanked the third motorbike and kept the two remaining soldiers at bay with sporadic gunfire. Outgunned and outnumbered, the soldiers stayed put and then retreated.
The timing and coordination of the Ma-Yor attack was dead on. But this was not Olympic sport. In fact, such incidents take place almost on a daily basis in the three southernmost border provinces of Pattani, Yala and Narathiwat where more than 5,000 have died in the violence.
It didn't take long for the footage to make its way to local television, YouTube and other media. The vividness of the Ma-Yor attack sent a big chill throughout the country and shook up security officials and policy-makers, who are now forced to explain the spike in violence despite claims of progress on the ground.
"The insurgents appeared to be more daring and bold, often choosing to attack in front of security cameras. They are looking to create a greater psychological impact with little regard to civilian casualties, said Human Rights Watch's Sunai Phasuk.
Leaders in the exiled community confirmed the analysis, saying the current crop of militants, locally referred to as juwae, or fighters in Patani Malay dialect, have stepped up their attacks in recent months as part of their ongoing strategy to make the area as ungovernable as possible.
As a sign of desperation, the government quickly appointed Deputy PM Chalerm Yoobamrung, a veteran but erratic politician, to take care of security matters in the deep South.
Angkhana Neelaphaijit, chairperson of the Justice for Peace Foundation, called the move a "knee-jerk" reaction. "I believe Prime Minister Yingluck needs to take direct charge of the situation in the South, instead of passing the buck to a politician who has a reputation of disrespecting other people's viewpoints."
Two days after the announcement, the insurgents launched an attack on CS Pattani Hotel, a place popular among foreigners and local VIPs visiting the deep South. And last Wednesday, a public school came under arson attack. The incident was a chilling reminder of 2007, when more than 100 public schools were burned down by insurgents.
Assistant Prof Srisompob Jitpiromsri, the director of Prince of Songkhla University-based Deep South Watch, believes the insurgents are drifting towards a higher level of information warfare. "It was as if they were performing for the camera, as if they wanted the authorities to see what they are capable of doing," said Srisompob, in reference to the Ma-Yor and other attacks.
"Insurgency and terrorism are essentially communicative actions. In the Ma-Yor operation, the insurgency scored big and managed to use the government's communication equipment to get their point across," Srisompob said.
If the insurgents in the deep South are looking to create greater psychological impact by their activities, then making the area ungovernable may no longer be enough for them.
For the time being, said Sunai, all agencies are hard-pressed to come up with a better explanation and analysis than the usual simplistic line that described the militants as drug-crazy youth who have embraced false Islamic teachings and are being taught a distorted version of Thailand's history. The spike in violence over the past eight months coincides with the government's effort to carry out secret talks with leaders of long-standing separatist groups in exile. They are hoping the old guard could talk sense to the new generation of militants. The talks led up to a secret meeting last March between fugitive Thaksin Shinawatra, the de facto leader of the current government, and about 16 Patani Malay separatist leaders.
Thaksin thought his presence would make a difference. But as it turned out, the meeting was boycotted by the Barisan Revolusi Nasional-Coordinate (BRN-C), the one group that has the best working relations with the new generation of militants currently operating on the ground.
Two weeks after the meeting, militants on the ground carried out triple bomb attacks on a short stretch of a busy street in downtown Yala, killing 10 and injuring more than 100 people. The same day also saw a car bomb going off at a basement parking lot in a downtown hotel in Hat Yai that killed three and injured more than 400.
Sunai called the March 31 attack a slap in the face for Thaksin and the so-called peace initiative of the government. With the secret peace move floundering and violence rising, all eyes are on Yingluck to see what steps she will take.
Wednesday, 4 July 2012
The fight over the peace process prolongs conflict
Don Pathan
The Nation
The recent transfer of National Security Council (NSC) Deputy Secretary-General Somkiat Boonchoo to an inactive post in the Prime Minister's Office has raised a lot of eyebrows among those who closely observe the ongoing insurgency in Thailand's deep South.
After all, here was a man who had followed the conflict in the region with a high degree of consistency. Somkiat has been replaced by Lieutenant-General Paradon Pattanathaboot, who returns to a post he once held until he was removed by the previous government.
Technically, it is a swap. But in the Thai political context, if one's name card says you're an "advisor to the Prime Minister's Office", it can mean you were transferred to the post because you are considered deadwood. Or it could be that you are someone with high integrity, thus making you incompatible with the government of the day - especially an administration as insecure as this one. No one doubts Somkiat's integrity, however.
Somkiat has contributed to the recently announced NSC plan that includes recommendations for the government to consider establishing a "safe zone" where dialogue between the authorities and militant separatists could take place.
Besides pushing the idea of dialogue with the separatists into the public sphere, Somkiat's direct participation marked a significant shift that paved the way for more civilian agencies and non-Army personnel, as well as civil society representatives, to get involved in the secret "peace process".
From the late 1980s to the early 1990s, this job was exclusively reserved for Army personnel. That changed in late 2005 when the then NSC chief General Winai Pathiyakul, along with the then NSC's director Lieutenant-General Vaipot Srinual, took part in the now-defunct Langkawi Process, a peace initiative launched by former Malaysian prime minister Mahathir Mohammed.
This was during the time when Thaksin Shinwatra was the country's prime minister, although he didn't pay much attention to the recommendations from the process.
After the 2006 coup that ousted Thaksin, the NSC was given greater responsibility by the Surayud Chulanont government. In fact, Surayud had opened the door for other agencies and ministries to take part in the process, which included reaching out to neighbouring countries, professional mediators and the international community for help in this daunting task.
The secret peace process drifted off the radar screen during the two pro-Thaksin administrations of Samak Sundaravej and Somchai Wongsawat. It came back on the screen again during Abhisit Vejjajiva's tenure as prime minister.
But the NSC was not the only agency talking to the leaders of the long-standing separatist movement. Other agencies got in on the act as well. Everybody, it seemed, wanted to become a peace broker, but nobody wanted to work with anyone else.
When Yingluck Shinawatra came into power and appointed favourite bureaucrat, Police Colonel Thawee Sodsong as the new secretary-general of the Southern Border Provinces Administrative Centre (SBPAC), the task of talking to the enemy was given to him.
Somkiat saw the writing on the wall and understood full well what this meant for the NSC's secret initiative. But those who know him didn't think the Thaksin camp would go as far as removing him from his post at the NSC.
It is not clear what Paradon's job will be in the NSC, but political insiders believe his main duty is to ensure that the NSC strategy and future plan will be in line with the peace initiative of the Thaksin camp, spearheaded by Thawee.
In fact, Thawee was already acting as the head of Thailand's "peace delegation" almost immediately after this government came to power, and he moved to the SBPAC office about a year ago.
In the months leading up to March, Thawee was sending representatives abroad to meet with leaders of the long-standing separatist groups - the old guard - in the hope that they would convince the new generation of militants on the ground to end their campaign of violence.
These leaders claimed to have dialogue and working relations with the militants, locally referred to as juwae, but few observers and officials were convinced that the link was strong enough to constitute a shared command, or command-and-control in military language.
Moreover, Thawee thought that by bringing Thaksin into the picture, the separatist leaders would be convinced that the Thai side was sincere about its commitment. And so a secret meeting between Thaksin and a group of 17 separatist leaders was held in mid-March. Nothing major came out of it, as expected, as the encounter was more symbolic than anything else.
The interesting part was not so much which separatist groups showed up but which one didn't. Barisan Revolusi Nasional-Coordinate (BRN-C), the group with the best working relationship with the juwae, boycotted the meeting because it couldn't forgive Thaksin for his heavy-handed and abusive tactics when he was in power.
For the BRN-C to surface and come to the table at this point in time, there would have to be great demands and expectations - the kind of expectations and demands that neither side will be able to deliver.
According to BRN-C and other separatist sources, although the BRN-C may have the best working relationship with the juwae, this link does not constitute a shared command.
To add insult to the boycott, the juwae on March 31 carried out massive car-bomb attacks in Hat Yai and Yala. With more than a dozen killed and over 100 injured in the two incidents, the insurgent violence in Thailand's deep South reached a new threshold. It was a slap in the face for Thaksin and his cronies.
The Army and the opposition Democrat Party didn't waste time in ridiculing the government about Thaksin's participation in the secret talks, despite the fact that all parties have at one time or another talked to the representatives of the separatists.
Thaksin, of course, denied meeting the separatists. So much for the so-called commitment. As the government retreats to the drawing board, it has decided to ditch Somkiat, the one man who knows a great deal about the conflict in the region.
But Somkiat's absence doesn't mean Thawee's job will be easier. Somkiat would have been a good resource person for Thawee but the manner in which he was sidelined suggests that the Thaksin camp wants to have complete control of the process even though their effort so far has not produced any meaningful result.
Moreover, the Army's ridiculing the government for "talking to the enemy" should not be equated to an uncompromising stance because the Army, too, talks to the separatists. Essentially the spitting contest among these power cliques is all about having full control of the peace process.
One way out of this quagmire, according to several observers and insiders, is to have the government designate an agency that has full control over peace processes, similar to the one in the Philippines. With a full political mandate, the military and other agencies would have no choice but to get in line or miss the boat.
Wishful thinking perhaps. For the time being, the government's hopes are still pinned on Thawee, hoping that he can come up with something bold and creative. But where he goes from here is anybody's guess.
The Nation
The recent transfer of National Security Council (NSC) Deputy Secretary-General Somkiat Boonchoo to an inactive post in the Prime Minister's Office has raised a lot of eyebrows among those who closely observe the ongoing insurgency in Thailand's deep South.
After all, here was a man who had followed the conflict in the region with a high degree of consistency. Somkiat has been replaced by Lieutenant-General Paradon Pattanathaboot, who returns to a post he once held until he was removed by the previous government.
Technically, it is a swap. But in the Thai political context, if one's name card says you're an "advisor to the Prime Minister's Office", it can mean you were transferred to the post because you are considered deadwood. Or it could be that you are someone with high integrity, thus making you incompatible with the government of the day - especially an administration as insecure as this one. No one doubts Somkiat's integrity, however.
Somkiat has contributed to the recently announced NSC plan that includes recommendations for the government to consider establishing a "safe zone" where dialogue between the authorities and militant separatists could take place.
Besides pushing the idea of dialogue with the separatists into the public sphere, Somkiat's direct participation marked a significant shift that paved the way for more civilian agencies and non-Army personnel, as well as civil society representatives, to get involved in the secret "peace process".
From the late 1980s to the early 1990s, this job was exclusively reserved for Army personnel. That changed in late 2005 when the then NSC chief General Winai Pathiyakul, along with the then NSC's director Lieutenant-General Vaipot Srinual, took part in the now-defunct Langkawi Process, a peace initiative launched by former Malaysian prime minister Mahathir Mohammed.
This was during the time when Thaksin Shinwatra was the country's prime minister, although he didn't pay much attention to the recommendations from the process.
After the 2006 coup that ousted Thaksin, the NSC was given greater responsibility by the Surayud Chulanont government. In fact, Surayud had opened the door for other agencies and ministries to take part in the process, which included reaching out to neighbouring countries, professional mediators and the international community for help in this daunting task.
The secret peace process drifted off the radar screen during the two pro-Thaksin administrations of Samak Sundaravej and Somchai Wongsawat. It came back on the screen again during Abhisit Vejjajiva's tenure as prime minister.
But the NSC was not the only agency talking to the leaders of the long-standing separatist movement. Other agencies got in on the act as well. Everybody, it seemed, wanted to become a peace broker, but nobody wanted to work with anyone else.
When Yingluck Shinawatra came into power and appointed favourite bureaucrat, Police Colonel Thawee Sodsong as the new secretary-general of the Southern Border Provinces Administrative Centre (SBPAC), the task of talking to the enemy was given to him.
Somkiat saw the writing on the wall and understood full well what this meant for the NSC's secret initiative. But those who know him didn't think the Thaksin camp would go as far as removing him from his post at the NSC.
It is not clear what Paradon's job will be in the NSC, but political insiders believe his main duty is to ensure that the NSC strategy and future plan will be in line with the peace initiative of the Thaksin camp, spearheaded by Thawee.
In fact, Thawee was already acting as the head of Thailand's "peace delegation" almost immediately after this government came to power, and he moved to the SBPAC office about a year ago.
In the months leading up to March, Thawee was sending representatives abroad to meet with leaders of the long-standing separatist groups - the old guard - in the hope that they would convince the new generation of militants on the ground to end their campaign of violence.
These leaders claimed to have dialogue and working relations with the militants, locally referred to as juwae, but few observers and officials were convinced that the link was strong enough to constitute a shared command, or command-and-control in military language.
Moreover, Thawee thought that by bringing Thaksin into the picture, the separatist leaders would be convinced that the Thai side was sincere about its commitment. And so a secret meeting between Thaksin and a group of 17 separatist leaders was held in mid-March. Nothing major came out of it, as expected, as the encounter was more symbolic than anything else.
The interesting part was not so much which separatist groups showed up but which one didn't. Barisan Revolusi Nasional-Coordinate (BRN-C), the group with the best working relationship with the juwae, boycotted the meeting because it couldn't forgive Thaksin for his heavy-handed and abusive tactics when he was in power.
For the BRN-C to surface and come to the table at this point in time, there would have to be great demands and expectations - the kind of expectations and demands that neither side will be able to deliver.
According to BRN-C and other separatist sources, although the BRN-C may have the best working relationship with the juwae, this link does not constitute a shared command.
To add insult to the boycott, the juwae on March 31 carried out massive car-bomb attacks in Hat Yai and Yala. With more than a dozen killed and over 100 injured in the two incidents, the insurgent violence in Thailand's deep South reached a new threshold. It was a slap in the face for Thaksin and his cronies.
The Army and the opposition Democrat Party didn't waste time in ridiculing the government about Thaksin's participation in the secret talks, despite the fact that all parties have at one time or another talked to the representatives of the separatists.
Thaksin, of course, denied meeting the separatists. So much for the so-called commitment. As the government retreats to the drawing board, it has decided to ditch Somkiat, the one man who knows a great deal about the conflict in the region.
But Somkiat's absence doesn't mean Thawee's job will be easier. Somkiat would have been a good resource person for Thawee but the manner in which he was sidelined suggests that the Thaksin camp wants to have complete control of the process even though their effort so far has not produced any meaningful result.
Moreover, the Army's ridiculing the government for "talking to the enemy" should not be equated to an uncompromising stance because the Army, too, talks to the separatists. Essentially the spitting contest among these power cliques is all about having full control of the peace process.
One way out of this quagmire, according to several observers and insiders, is to have the government designate an agency that has full control over peace processes, similar to the one in the Philippines. With a full political mandate, the military and other agencies would have no choice but to get in line or miss the boat.
Wishful thinking perhaps. For the time being, the government's hopes are still pinned on Thawee, hoping that he can come up with something bold and creative. But where he goes from here is anybody's guess.
Saturday, 12 May 2012
Thailand has no clue how to end the insurgency in the South
Don Pathan
The Nation
Justice and equality for the Malay-Muslims in the three southernmost provinces is high on the agenda of the high-level representatives of the 56-member Organisation of Islamic Conference (OIC), as Foreign Minister Surapong Tovichakchaikul confirmed that the delegates have asked about the use of the controversial Emergency Degree to quell the ongoing insurgency.
The delegation is headed by Ambassador Sayed Kassem El-Masry, an Egyptian envoy who visited the country last in 2005. In spite of the long absence between the previous and this visit, the OIC has consistently to look for ways to engage in resolution of the conflict in the restive region, meeting with the Patani Malay diaspora and people who keep a close watch on developments in Thailand's deep South.
But Bangkok, under successive governments, has never been comfortable with the idea of permitting the OIC, or any outsiders for that matter, to get involved in mediation or peace talks with the rebels, for fear that the issue would be internationalised. But denying them the political capital has not changed the course of the violence either.
Thailand’s was granted the status of Permanent Observer in the OIC in the late 1990s during the Chuan Leekpa administration. It was Thailand’s way of blocking the separatists from the setting any official recognition from the Islamic grouping.
To Bangkok's disappointment, in late 2010, the OIC met for two days with leaders of the long-standing separatist groups in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia and in Kuala Lumpur. The meetings were carried out simultaneously from the end of September to the start of October. The OIC secretary-general, Professor Ekmeleddin Ihsanoglu, chaired the meeting in Jeddah, while Talal A Daous, the organisation's director for the Muslim Minorities and Communities Department, chaired the gathering in Kuala Lumpur.
According to diplomatic and exiled sources, the OIC urged the long-standing separatist groups to combine efforts and form a United Patani People's Council (UPPC). As for the question of the mandate, the Patani People's Congress (PCC) would be the forum that draws its legitimacy from the people in the Malay historical homeland that is now part of Thailand's three southernmost provinces. How the PCC would operate, violating Thailand's sovereignty, remained a big question.
But the then foreign minister, Kasit Piromya, decided to pour cold water on the idea of permitting the OIC to mediate in the conflict, and the organisation was forced to retreat to the drawing baard.
Today, just weeks after massive car bomb attacks in Hat Yai and Yala that resulted in the deaths of more than ten people and injuries to more than 100 others, the OIC is back in the spotlight. Thailand is hard pressed to come up with answers to the insurgency because the business-as-usual approach can no longer contain the violence. The devastating nature of the Yala and Hat Yai attacks suggest that a new threshold has been crossed and the worst is yet to come. And the fact that Prime Minister Yingluck Shinawatra repeated the same old mantra during her recent visit to the region is not very encouraging.
The OIC's visit could very well be part of Thailand's effort to put on a brave, positive, active face, to create the impression that the state is doing something about the conflict.
The OIC mediating in the conflict might not be part of the official agenda but one can be certain that many stakeholders, especially the separatist leaders, wouldn't mind seeing the OIC involved in some kind of peace process.
One thing Thailand is concerned about is that the OIC could be too sympathetic to the separatist movement. But one prominent exiled leader, who has had dealings with the the OIC over the past three decades, said the organisation respects Thailand's territorial integrity and has never really entertained the idea of seeing the Muslim-majority deep South divided from the Kingdom.
"The OIC is essentially a state actor. It would be in Thailand's interest to have the OIC involved in mediation, but successive Thai governments are just too afraid to take the chance," said the exiled leader, who spoke on condition of anonymity.
Although the Foreign Ministry has been the public face for Thailand in answering nagging questions about the ongoing conflict in the Malay-speaking region, it is the military and policy-makers at Government House that are the ones who set the policy and directions on how the country deals with the separatists.
During the administration of Abhisit Vejjajiva, the National Security Council (NSC) was given the task of formulating peace talks with the separatist movement. The Army wasn't too thrilled with the idea but nevertheless, sent a senior officer to observe the NSC-led process. One explanation for the willingness to appear to be cooperative may have to with the fact that the Army and the Democrat-led government were on good terms.
But when the Pheu Thai Party came to power, Prime Minister Yingluck Shinawatra handed responsibility for the situation to the Southern Border Provinces Administration Centre (SBPAC), which is headed by Thawee Sodsong, one of the party's favourite bureaucrats.
But instead of addressing the root cause of the conflict, Thawee has treated the job as if he is preparing for a sort of summit with de facto leader, Thaksin Shinawatra; that being the goal in itself. Thaksin met with a group of about 16 exiled leaders in mid-March but nothing meaningful came out of it. Moreover, it was heavily politicised by the opposition and the military when the event became public information. Thawee and Pheu Thai are back to the drawing board.
Perhaps the most important aspect of the meeting with Thaksin was not so much who was there but who wasn't. The Barisan Revolusi Nasional-Coordinate (BRN-C), the group with the best working relations with the militants on the ground, boycotted the meeting, saying it could never forgive Thaksin for "what he has done to the Malays of Patani". They were referring to his heavy-handed tactics during his rule, which he blamed on bureaucrats for providing him with inaccurate information.
But the BRN-Coordinate says it is not completely ruling out the idea of talking to the Thais, as long as it is not Thaksin's camp. Moreover, senior members in the movement say they have yet to establish an adequate command-and-control relationship with the militants on the ground.
It remains to be seen if Bangkok will ask the OIC to get the BRN-Coordinate to let bygones be bygones and take up any olive branch from the Pheu Thai camp. But if the recent devastating car bombs in Yala and Hat Yai tell us anything, it is that the insurgents are not in the mood to talk.
The Nation
Justice and equality for the Malay-Muslims in the three southernmost provinces is high on the agenda of the high-level representatives of the 56-member Organisation of Islamic Conference (OIC), as Foreign Minister Surapong Tovichakchaikul confirmed that the delegates have asked about the use of the controversial Emergency Degree to quell the ongoing insurgency.
The delegation is headed by Ambassador Sayed Kassem El-Masry, an Egyptian envoy who visited the country last in 2005. In spite of the long absence between the previous and this visit, the OIC has consistently to look for ways to engage in resolution of the conflict in the restive region, meeting with the Patani Malay diaspora and people who keep a close watch on developments in Thailand's deep South.
But Bangkok, under successive governments, has never been comfortable with the idea of permitting the OIC, or any outsiders for that matter, to get involved in mediation or peace talks with the rebels, for fear that the issue would be internationalised. But denying them the political capital has not changed the course of the violence either.
Thailand’s was granted the status of Permanent Observer in the OIC in the late 1990s during the Chuan Leekpa administration. It was Thailand’s way of blocking the separatists from the setting any official recognition from the Islamic grouping.
To Bangkok's disappointment, in late 2010, the OIC met for two days with leaders of the long-standing separatist groups in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia and in Kuala Lumpur. The meetings were carried out simultaneously from the end of September to the start of October. The OIC secretary-general, Professor Ekmeleddin Ihsanoglu, chaired the meeting in Jeddah, while Talal A Daous, the organisation's director for the Muslim Minorities and Communities Department, chaired the gathering in Kuala Lumpur.
According to diplomatic and exiled sources, the OIC urged the long-standing separatist groups to combine efforts and form a United Patani People's Council (UPPC). As for the question of the mandate, the Patani People's Congress (PCC) would be the forum that draws its legitimacy from the people in the Malay historical homeland that is now part of Thailand's three southernmost provinces. How the PCC would operate, violating Thailand's sovereignty, remained a big question.
But the then foreign minister, Kasit Piromya, decided to pour cold water on the idea of permitting the OIC to mediate in the conflict, and the organisation was forced to retreat to the drawing baard.
Today, just weeks after massive car bomb attacks in Hat Yai and Yala that resulted in the deaths of more than ten people and injuries to more than 100 others, the OIC is back in the spotlight. Thailand is hard pressed to come up with answers to the insurgency because the business-as-usual approach can no longer contain the violence. The devastating nature of the Yala and Hat Yai attacks suggest that a new threshold has been crossed and the worst is yet to come. And the fact that Prime Minister Yingluck Shinawatra repeated the same old mantra during her recent visit to the region is not very encouraging.
The OIC's visit could very well be part of Thailand's effort to put on a brave, positive, active face, to create the impression that the state is doing something about the conflict.
The OIC mediating in the conflict might not be part of the official agenda but one can be certain that many stakeholders, especially the separatist leaders, wouldn't mind seeing the OIC involved in some kind of peace process.
One thing Thailand is concerned about is that the OIC could be too sympathetic to the separatist movement. But one prominent exiled leader, who has had dealings with the the OIC over the past three decades, said the organisation respects Thailand's territorial integrity and has never really entertained the idea of seeing the Muslim-majority deep South divided from the Kingdom.
"The OIC is essentially a state actor. It would be in Thailand's interest to have the OIC involved in mediation, but successive Thai governments are just too afraid to take the chance," said the exiled leader, who spoke on condition of anonymity.
Although the Foreign Ministry has been the public face for Thailand in answering nagging questions about the ongoing conflict in the Malay-speaking region, it is the military and policy-makers at Government House that are the ones who set the policy and directions on how the country deals with the separatists.
During the administration of Abhisit Vejjajiva, the National Security Council (NSC) was given the task of formulating peace talks with the separatist movement. The Army wasn't too thrilled with the idea but nevertheless, sent a senior officer to observe the NSC-led process. One explanation for the willingness to appear to be cooperative may have to with the fact that the Army and the Democrat-led government were on good terms.
But when the Pheu Thai Party came to power, Prime Minister Yingluck Shinawatra handed responsibility for the situation to the Southern Border Provinces Administration Centre (SBPAC), which is headed by Thawee Sodsong, one of the party's favourite bureaucrats.
But instead of addressing the root cause of the conflict, Thawee has treated the job as if he is preparing for a sort of summit with de facto leader, Thaksin Shinawatra; that being the goal in itself. Thaksin met with a group of about 16 exiled leaders in mid-March but nothing meaningful came out of it. Moreover, it was heavily politicised by the opposition and the military when the event became public information. Thawee and Pheu Thai are back to the drawing board.
Perhaps the most important aspect of the meeting with Thaksin was not so much who was there but who wasn't. The Barisan Revolusi Nasional-Coordinate (BRN-C), the group with the best working relations with the militants on the ground, boycotted the meeting, saying it could never forgive Thaksin for "what he has done to the Malays of Patani". They were referring to his heavy-handed tactics during his rule, which he blamed on bureaucrats for providing him with inaccurate information.
But the BRN-Coordinate says it is not completely ruling out the idea of talking to the Thais, as long as it is not Thaksin's camp. Moreover, senior members in the movement say they have yet to establish an adequate command-and-control relationship with the militants on the ground.
It remains to be seen if Bangkok will ask the OIC to get the BRN-Coordinate to let bygones be bygones and take up any olive branch from the Pheu Thai camp. But if the recent devastating car bombs in Yala and Hat Yai tell us anything, it is that the insurgents are not in the mood to talk.
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