Don Pathan
The Nation
Narathiwat
Published on Nov 22, 2004
Sipping tea and speaking in a low voice at a small coffee shop at the downtown fresh market in this southern capital, Weeraphong accused the government of being too soft on the Muslims in this Malay-majority region and talked about how the authorities needed to teach them a good lesson.
Weeraphong, who asked that his last name not be used, said governments had been too lenient on the Muslims here. The current government’s policy to bring the ethnic Malays on a par with the rest of the country in the areas of education and employment, particularly in the civil service, was an outright discrimination against people like him, a Thai Buddhist, he said.
“It’s never enough for them. You give them one thing but they will always want more,” whispered the primary school teacher.
Less than two blocks down the street from this shop is a Chinese-owned restaurant where the entire front was blown to shreds the night before. The fertiliser bomb sent 16 people to the emergency room and kicked off a growing fear that more attacks on “soft targets” are on the way.
Early the next morning in front of what’s left of this restaurant, as two men put up banners accusing Senator Chirmsak Pinthong and other rights campaigners of being cowards for only speaking up for the Muslims but not the “innocent victims”, a local Thai-Chinese businessman screamed at the top of his lungs when a TV reporter stuck a camera in his face.
“It has been eleven months and what is Thaksin doing?” fumed the beefy Thai-Chinese, who sported a golden amulet on his chest to show that he was a proud Buddhist.
“He [Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra] keeps talking about all kinds of strategies but innocent people continue to die every day. This is the only government I know that gives money to family members of criminals,” he shouted.
Residents of this street of Chinese shophouses clapped, while Muslim onlookers stood expressionless.
The so-called “criminals” the man was talking about were the 85 Muslim demonstrators who died at the Tak Bai protest or were in custody immediately thereafter, an incident that has been described by many as an attempt to teach the Muslims a lesson. Thaksin later announced that the family of each victim would receive Bt700,000.
Autopsies showed that six of them died from gunshot wounds and the rest apparently from suffocation while being transported in military trucks stacked one on top of the other to an Army camp in Pattani. The trip usually takes an hour and a half but, for whatever reason, most of the transport vehicles arrived four hours or more after leaving Tak Bai.
Thaksin said he regretted the loss of life but would not apologise for the deaths. Instead, the premier, who appeared to be more concerned with his political rating than getting to the bottom of the tragic incident, played up his nationalistic card, accusing the demonstrators of being Muslim separatists.
In a speech that was supposed to be a tell-all, it was 10 minutes before the word “regret” came out of Thaksin’s mouth. It was the closest to an apology that anybody was going to get. The rest of his speech was about how he was not going to allow an inch of the country be taken away by any separatist group.
Violence in this Muslim-majority region is nothing new. But unlike in earlier decades when clashes were largely between security forces and armed separatist groups in remote hills of the three southernmost provinces, the violence now appears to have divided the region more than ever.
Locals said that even at the height of the armed separatist movement two decades ago, local Buddhists – most of whom are ethnic Chinese – and Muslims co-existed peacefully.
Back then there was no real resentment and it didn’t really matter that Buddhists were richer or better connected economically and politically, they said.
“We grew up together like brothers and sisters,” said a Narathiwat native who entered the monkhood 10 years ago and currently resides at a temple in Joh I Rong district, one of the most violence-prone spots in the region.
It’s a different story nowadays, however.
The monk blasted Thaksin for not having the political will to bridge the psychological divide between the two communities. “He thinks money can cure everything,” he said.
Hama Mayunu, a leading member of the Narathiwat chapter of the Local Community Development Association, said that as the violence began affecting innocent civilians, voices of reason had also begun to disappear.
He said there was a growing perception that all Muslims were in the same boat and were collaborating to drive out the Buddhists from the Malay-majority region.
“A Chinese opened the biggest shop in my neighbourhood and none of us feel threatened or that he is taking advantage of us,” said Hama, who also operates a community radio service that broadcast in the local Malay dialect.
“If the Muslims wanted to chase the Buddhists out they would have done it a long time ago. In fact, we elected a Thai-Chinese as our mayor,” Hama said.
Since the beginning of the year, Thailand has witnessed an increasing number of civilians being killed, including Buddhist monks, four of whom were hacked to death. The scope of victims has expanded from armed troops to non-security personnel, as well as innocent Buddhist villagers.
Among the Muslims, talk of disappearances and extrajudicial killings echoed in just about every community but few were willing to say anything openly to outsiders for fear that they could be next for speaking out or just making an observation.
Security officers blamed the ongoing spate of violence against the security forces on a new generation of home-grown insurgents who took matters into their own hands, partly in response to abuses by the authorities and partly due to inspiration from abroad, namely the global jihad phenomenon.
“But the killings of innocent civilians, women and children – there is nothing there in Islam to justify it,” said Hama.
For the local Buddhists, there is no distinction between an attack against state officials and an attack against innocent civilians. Many believe the local Muslims are colluding against them.
Sitting under a shed watching Marines making sandbags and nervous-looking young Muslims stroll through the checkpoint, Penporn Suranatakul, the village chief of Ban Thung Kha in Yi-ngo district, accused the Muslims of collaborating with insurgents to drive out the Buddhists to buy cheap land.
“These teenagers drive up in their motorbikes and point out which house they are going to take if and when we move out,” said Penporn, as she tried hard to hold back her tears.
“And now these academics and human rights people in Bangkok are saying the troops have to be punished. What about their wives and children? Who is going to look after them?” asked Penporn, adding that she supported harsh measures regardless of the outcome.
Thaksin said the attacks were tearing the fabric of the country apart and added that the violence against civilians was designed to provoke harsh responses from the security forces.
But judging from the way the authorities dealt with the unarmed protesters at Tak Bai police station, “harsh response” is an understatement.
While the Muslims killed by security forces over the past year, including the protesters who died in the Tak Bai incident, were buried as Muslim martyrs, there is nothing here to suggest that the local Muslims here are supportive of the insurgency.
No one here wants to think their sons had died in vain, regardless of whether they were part of the 106 machete-wielding youths shot dead by security forces on April 28 or among the unarmed demonstrators who died following the Tak Bai protest on October 25.
But on the other hand, government’s harsh measures and questionable tactics appear to be creating more martyrs as both Muslims and officials agree that violence will breed more violence.
“It is believed that for every martyr, a thousand more will replace him,” Hama said.
Meanwhile, Weeraphong said he constantly watched his rear-view mirrors while riding his motorcycle, wondering if he would be the next victim in this spate of violence that has claimed more than 450 lives since the beginning of the year.
“It’s terrible to be living in fear,” Weeraphong said.
But moving out of this region is out of the question, he said – at least for the time being.
