Don Pathan
The Nation
Kuala Lumpur
For the past three decades, old man Fadel has met and talked with Thai
security officials about what seems to be a never ending dispute
between the Malay historical homeland of Patani and the Thai state.
Not much has changed over the years. If anything, the situation seems
to be getting worse if one takes into consideration the level of
violence in the southernmost border provinces where more than 3,200
have died since January 2004.
Fadel (not his real name) is a key leader from one of the longstanding
separatist groups that emerged in the late 1960s to carve out a
separate homeland for Malays in Thailand's southernmost border
provinces. Like many Patani exiles, Fadel lives a quiet life in
Malaysia under the watchful eyes of the state security and
intelligence agencies.
Kuala Lumpur has been working quietly with
Bangkok to facilitate some of these meetings that Fadel said hasn't
made much progress. He blamed the lack of sincerity and the absence of
mandate on his Thai counterparts.
Since his last interview to The Nation, early last year, Fadel has
lost a tooth and his hair has greyed more. But his stance remains
unchanged.
Like other leaders of long standing groups – Patani United Liberation
Organisation, Barisan Revolusi Nasional, Gerekan Mujahidin
Islam Patani (GMIP), Barisan Islam Pembangunan Patani (BIPP) – Fadel
has dropped the demand for an independent Patani.
Echoing other old guards from these long standing groups, Fadel
maintained that before true and lasting peace can be achieved,
Thailand must first recognise the historical fact that the
Malay-speaking region was once an independent sultanate. Moreover, the
use of Malay must be permitted as a "working language" alongside the
"official" Thai.
"This is not about separating Patani from Thailand. It's about the
dignity of the Malays of Patani," explained Fadel.
Thai security officials have said rewriting history and having all
sides come to terms with the past will not go well with conservative
elements who see the current nationstate boundary as something next to
divine revelation. But the demands from the old guards can be met as
long as the will is there from the political leaders, they said.
Like everything else, it seems, the devil is in the details.
In recent months, Fadel has been watching with some discomfort the
various initiatives by key Thai political and regional leaders to
broker a peace deal with groups who claimed to be representing the
people of Patani.
These key Thai political leaders include Chavalit Yongchaiyudh,
Chettha Thanajaro, Surayud Chulanont and last but not the least,
Indonesian Vice President Yusuf Kalla. Malaysian opposition leader
Anwar Ibrahim has also expressed concern and interest in working
towards peace as well.
But good intentions are not necessarily good policy. Many stakeholders
have questioned the true intention of these socalled mediators and the
merit of their action. In fact, some of these recent initiatives were
billed as, at best, bad planning, and at worst, a hoax.
Two months ago Chavalit publicly said an everlasting peace would be
achieved by December 5 this year. He has less than two weeks left.
Before that Chettha announced an end to the century-old resistance.
Kalla, on the other hand, was left high and dry when the Thai
government said it was not aware of his initiative.
While these dialogue tracks continue to attract the attention of the
exiled leaders, there is a growing consensus among concerned parties
that in spite of these talks, Thailand and Patani separatist groups
are as far apart as ever.
"I have got to the point that these discussions, dialogue or
negotiations have become pointless. This is because the Thai side has
always sent men, usually soldiers, who have no real mandate," said
another exiled leader, who spoke on condition of anonymity.
Malaysian officials who helped facilitate some of these meetings
echoed the same sentiment, saying there is no continuity from the Thai
side and the participants see these meetings as an intelligence
gathering exercise rather than as part of an effort to come up with a
sound policy.
This is not to say that the Thai government has never been in
constructive dialogue before. In December 2007, then prime minister
Surayud met secretly with a top PULO official during a stopover in
Bahrain.
But the foundation that Surayud laid was not built on. "Everything at
the official level is more or less at a standstill at the moment,"
said the Malaysian officer.
Well, not exactly. Surayud's effort was replaced by individual
initiatives from various camps, namely Kalla, Chetta and Chavalit. All
reached out to the old guards but so far, nothing meaningful has come
out of their efforts.
While no one doubted the historical role of these old guards, the
biggest question that is eating up the Thai side is what kind of
influence the exiled leaders have over the new generation of militants
operating on the ground.
Old guards said they have regular dialogue with the new generation and
maintain that they can bring them to the negotiating table if and when
a formal negotiation is kicked off.
Others in the exiled community are quietly singling out the Barisan
Revolusi Nasional – Coordinate as the one long standing group that has
any real influence on the new generation operating on the ground.
Locally, the new generation of militants is referred to as the juwae,
which means fighter in local Malay dialect.
For the time being, Bangkok's official position is to deny any
involvement with these "private initiatives" in spite of financing
some of them. The Thai government is also keeping the international
community away from what they have consistently billed as a domestic
issue.
Observers and frustrated officials on the ground say Thai security
agencies have too much to hide – the torture, a culture of impunity,
corruption and the use of government death squad. Certainly, they can
do without the headache from the international community, much less
the debate on the legitimacy of the Thai state in the Malays'
historical homeland.
Unless there is political will from Bangkok to push for real change in
the deep South, said old man Fadel, violence will continue unabated.
"We don't mind being part of Thailand," Fadel said. "But it has to be
on our own terms."
DON PATHAN Senior Program Officer for Regional Security Cooperation at The Asia Foundation
Wednesday 26 November 2008
Thursday 25 September 2008
Unofficial talks may fan the flames of insurgency
Don Pathan
SOMETHING is seriously out of tune in diplomatic ties between Bangkok and Jakarta, and the ongoing insurgency in the deep South of Thailand is to blame.
The Thai government was quick to distance itself from so-called secret talks in Bogor between a group of ageing Patani Malay exiles and Thai delegates led by Kwanchart Klaharn, a senior security adviser to the People Power Party.
Indonesian State Secretary Hatta Radjasa said Indonesia was considered an experienced mediator and that the gathering was a "wish that their efforts would end the conflict".
The Bogor meeting was facilitated by Indonesia's Vice President Yussuf Kalla, known to some in diplomatic circles as "Mr Let's Make a Deal".
It appears that the meeting was supposed to be secret in nature. But once the Indonesian media broke the story over the weekend, the people in Kalla's camp wasted no time in milking the situation. Photographs appeared of a majestic-looking Kalla sat between the two warring parties. The man was in his element, indeed. No one seems to care what this will do to Thai-Indonesian relations.
Over the past two years, there have been a number of meetings between self-proclaimed Patani Malay leaders and so-called representative from Thailand, official and semi-official. Most, if not all, of these meetings were secret in nature but some details were leaked to the media, only to be played down by the Thai government.
Because of the absence of a unified position on either the Thai or the exiled separatists' sides, these talks were ad hoc in nature, having no effect on policy change. If anything, the meetings have become intelligence-gathering exercises for the participants. This is not to mention the per diems and free trips abroad.
One only has to look at the fiasco in July when former Army chief General Chetta Thanajaro claimed to have succeeded in getting an unnamed underground separatist group to announce an end to the century-old insurgency.
The public didn't even give the former chief the benefit of the doubt by waiting to see if the violence ended as he stated it would. People immediately called it a hoax. And the violence continues unabated.
Just last weekend, former premier Chavalit Yongchaiyudh also made a similar claim - that the level of violence will begin a sharp decline starting on October 13, and by December 5 it will come to a complete stop.
As with Chetta, no one has given a hoot about this announcement.
But this is not to say that all of the encounters between separatist leaders and Thai authorities have been fruitless.
The Thai government has been in constructive dialogue with leaders of the Patani United Liberation Organisation (Pulo) and Barian Revolusi Nasional-Coordinate over the past two years, and in December 2007 then prime minister Surayud Chulanont met with the two groups in Bahrain.
But this fledging process needs stronger political backing.
Ethnic Malay participants at the Bogor talks called themselves the Consultative Council of the Patani Malay People. The delegates were made up of former members of the now-defunct Bersatu, whose former leader Wan Kadir Che Man is said to have declined an offer to take part in Kalla's dialogue process.
Pulo's foreign affairs chief Kasturi Mahkota said his group had pulled out of Kalla's process, saying it didn't have anything new to offer. "It wasn't serious," Kasturi said.
But given the option between talking and not talking, one would think that a dialogue is better than no dialogue at all," said a Bangkok-based diplomat.
But then again, these dialogues - especially those that organisers tend to milk for public relations purposes - could prove to be damaging.
If anything, they could derail the more meaningful processes, such as the one pushed through by Surayud.
But instead of picking up where Surayud left off, the previous government of Samak Sundaravej didn't want to be bothered at all with the conflict in the deep South - in spite of the fact that more than 3,300 people have been killed since January 2004.
In March this year, Samak delegated his authority as the director of the Internal Security Operation Command to Anupong, effectively making Anupong the security tsar overseeing military and civilian affairs in the restive region. But like others before him, Anupong knows that it is too costly politically to push through any bold initiative, even the one that Surayud had started.
Deep-seated issues such as Patani Malay cultural space and the sticky issue of identity are being discussed in seminars, but that's about it.
It is very unlikely that the outcome from these talks will be a win-win scenario for the two opposing parties as has been suggested by some mediators and facilitators. The bottom line is what kind of concessions the Patani Malays and the Thai state are willing to make.
SOMETHING is seriously out of tune in diplomatic ties between Bangkok and Jakarta, and the ongoing insurgency in the deep South of Thailand is to blame.
The Thai government was quick to distance itself from so-called secret talks in Bogor between a group of ageing Patani Malay exiles and Thai delegates led by Kwanchart Klaharn, a senior security adviser to the People Power Party.
Indonesian State Secretary Hatta Radjasa said Indonesia was considered an experienced mediator and that the gathering was a "wish that their efforts would end the conflict".
The Bogor meeting was facilitated by Indonesia's Vice President Yussuf Kalla, known to some in diplomatic circles as "Mr Let's Make a Deal".
It appears that the meeting was supposed to be secret in nature. But once the Indonesian media broke the story over the weekend, the people in Kalla's camp wasted no time in milking the situation. Photographs appeared of a majestic-looking Kalla sat between the two warring parties. The man was in his element, indeed. No one seems to care what this will do to Thai-Indonesian relations.
Over the past two years, there have been a number of meetings between self-proclaimed Patani Malay leaders and so-called representative from Thailand, official and semi-official. Most, if not all, of these meetings were secret in nature but some details were leaked to the media, only to be played down by the Thai government.
Because of the absence of a unified position on either the Thai or the exiled separatists' sides, these talks were ad hoc in nature, having no effect on policy change. If anything, the meetings have become intelligence-gathering exercises for the participants. This is not to mention the per diems and free trips abroad.
One only has to look at the fiasco in July when former Army chief General Chetta Thanajaro claimed to have succeeded in getting an unnamed underground separatist group to announce an end to the century-old insurgency.
The public didn't even give the former chief the benefit of the doubt by waiting to see if the violence ended as he stated it would. People immediately called it a hoax. And the violence continues unabated.
Just last weekend, former premier Chavalit Yongchaiyudh also made a similar claim - that the level of violence will begin a sharp decline starting on October 13, and by December 5 it will come to a complete stop.
As with Chetta, no one has given a hoot about this announcement.
But this is not to say that all of the encounters between separatist leaders and Thai authorities have been fruitless.
The Thai government has been in constructive dialogue with leaders of the Patani United Liberation Organisation (Pulo) and Barian Revolusi Nasional-Coordinate over the past two years, and in December 2007 then prime minister Surayud Chulanont met with the two groups in Bahrain.
But this fledging process needs stronger political backing.
Ethnic Malay participants at the Bogor talks called themselves the Consultative Council of the Patani Malay People. The delegates were made up of former members of the now-defunct Bersatu, whose former leader Wan Kadir Che Man is said to have declined an offer to take part in Kalla's dialogue process.
Pulo's foreign affairs chief Kasturi Mahkota said his group had pulled out of Kalla's process, saying it didn't have anything new to offer. "It wasn't serious," Kasturi said.
But given the option between talking and not talking, one would think that a dialogue is better than no dialogue at all," said a Bangkok-based diplomat.
But then again, these dialogues - especially those that organisers tend to milk for public relations purposes - could prove to be damaging.
If anything, they could derail the more meaningful processes, such as the one pushed through by Surayud.
But instead of picking up where Surayud left off, the previous government of Samak Sundaravej didn't want to be bothered at all with the conflict in the deep South - in spite of the fact that more than 3,300 people have been killed since January 2004.
In March this year, Samak delegated his authority as the director of the Internal Security Operation Command to Anupong, effectively making Anupong the security tsar overseeing military and civilian affairs in the restive region. But like others before him, Anupong knows that it is too costly politically to push through any bold initiative, even the one that Surayud had started.
Deep-seated issues such as Patani Malay cultural space and the sticky issue of identity are being discussed in seminars, but that's about it.
It is very unlikely that the outcome from these talks will be a win-win scenario for the two opposing parties as has been suggested by some mediators and facilitators. The bottom line is what kind of concessions the Patani Malays and the Thai state are willing to make.
Wednesday 24 September 2008
Is Chavalit fostering false hope in the deep South?
Published on September 23, 2008
By Don Pathan
IN keeping with his character, former prime minister Chavalit Yongchaiyudh is being just as ambiguous as ever. But then again, he has his reason for not coming clean. Over the weekend, Chavalit was reported as saying that an end to the ongoing insurgency in the Malay-speaking South is within sight. Starting on October 13, there will be a rapid decline in insurgent attacks in the deep South, and by December 5 violence will come to a complete stop.
He insisted this is not a joke and even took a jab at former Army chief General Chetta Thanajaro, who made similar claims that were quickly dismissed as a hoax. Chetta provided video footage of three unidentified ethnic Malays announcing an end to the insurgency in the restive region. They claimed to be spokesmen for 11 unnamed "underground" separatist groups.
The three men wore fake beards and moustaches and spoke under a flag that is unfamiliar to long-standing Patani-Malay separatist groups. Patani Malay exiles, including groups such as the Patani United Liberation Organisation (Pulo), were quick to distance themselves from the video. Chetta quickly became a laughing stock. And, as expected, the violence continued unabated with no end in sight.
No one really knows what Chavalit has got up his sleeve this time, but the former premier is known for having strong political connections in the deep South, and he maintains that his effort is no joke.
His announcement came on the same weekend that Indonesian Vice President Yusuf Kalla was meeting with Patani Malay exiles, namely former members of Bersatu. Representing the Thai side was the defence adviser to the People Power Party, Kwanchart Klaharn, who is tipped to be the next defence minister.
The meeting in Indonesia was Kalla's personal initiative to come up with a solution for the southern problem. Indonesian and Malaysian sources said Kuala Lumpur has had nothing to do with Kalla's initiative. But the fact that most, if not all, of the Patani Malay participants are residents of Malaysia will definitely be a source of irritation to Kuala Lumpur.
Meetings between Thai officials and armed southern separatists have been taking place for decades. The problem is that these meetings have never had any real impact on policy change. They were mostly carried out by senior Army intelligence staff and treated as information-collecting exercises. Agreements reached between the Thai side and the separatists were secret in nature and neither side has had the capacity or willingness to see things through.
Today, these long-standing separatist groups have slipped out of the picture in the deep South and been replaced by younger, meaner militants on the ground. Local residents called them "juwae", which basically means "fighter" in the local Malay dialect. According to Patani Malay exiled leaders, only a handful of people from the long-standing separatist groups have any dialogue with the juwae.
"Perhaps the most meaningful dialogue with the juwae is carried out by members of the Barisan Revolusi Nasional- Coordinate (BRN-C), which is also an underground organisation like the juwae. I seriously doubt if any of the long-standing groups have any real influence on the juwae," one exiled leader said.
Others see the juwae and BRN-C as gradually coming together. Their secretive nature makes them natural partners. Besides, it was the grassroots activities of the BRN that helped ensure the spirit of Malay independence remained in the hearts and minds of local residents in the 1990s when violence disappeared from the region.
The Thai state, on the other hand, mistakenly thought the absence of violence meant permanent peace. What it didn't see was that a new generation of militants was being groomed under its nose.
Pulo, the only long-standing group with a limited public face, said it can help bring the BRN-C to the dialogue process but that Thais will have to be serious about the process. So far, judging from the various uncoordinated meetings between so-called Thai representatives and exiled groups, Bangkok isn't at all serious about talking to the old guard.
Chavalit, over the weekend, claimed to have the support and assurance of authorities in Malaysia, and added that their credibility was on the line. He didn't say which, if any, of the Malaysian government or non-government agencies had assisted him.
As expected, Chavalit's initiative did not get off to a good start. Pulo's foreign affairs chief Kasturi Mahkota wasted no time in criticising Chavalit's initiative. "On behalf of Pulo, I strongly deny our involvement in this dirty process," said Kasturi in a statement to The Nation.
A senior Army intelligence officer in the deep South said Chavalit has been relying on outdated information and his old connections in the region and in Malaysia to put this together. Thai officials on the ground and Patani Malay exiles think Chavalit's initiative will not amount to anything much except a public relations stunt for the political veteran who has been looking to make a comeback.
Moreover, the said government source in Kuala Lumpur said southern Thailand is off the Kuala Lumpur radar screen because of the current political crisis in Malaysia. However, it will quickly become the centre of attention, especially if Anwar Ibhrahim, the leading opposition figure, becomes the next prime minister.
Speaking at a recent press conference, Anwar outlined his top-10 priorities. Nine of the items were domestic matters, but the one and only foreign affairs matter was the conflict in southern Thailand. According to one of his close associates, Anwar would seek input and assistance from governments in the region, as well as leading figures with knowledge about the historical dispute with the Thai state.
But coming up with a deal to end the bloodshed in southern Thailand once and for all will not be easy. With or without the current domestic political mess, Bangkok has not shown any interest in meaningful dialogue or any fundamental change in its relations with the Malay-speaking region.
No one knows how long the political crisis in Bangkok will last. And even if stability returns, few think the Thai state will make any real concession to a region that contests its rule and questions its legitimacy.
Tuesday 22 July 2008
Promotion of drug kingpin looms large over wa army's outside relations
Don Pathan
The Nation
Something has got into drug kingpin Wei Hsueh-kang, the notorious opium warlord who controls a sizeable army near Thailand's northern border.
According to Chinese and Thai military sources and others monitoring the notorious Golden Triangle, Commander Wei is hoping he will be selected to the topmost position in the United Wa State Army (UWSA), one of Burma's ceasefire groups responsible for flooding Thailand with methamphetamines and the world with pure-white grade four heroin.
If that happens, Wei would replace ailing UWSA chairman Bao Yu-xiang, who runs the 20,000-strong army out of Panghsang, a small town on the Sino-Burmese border.
The Bao and the Wei families, while part of the UWSA structure, have historically been rivals. But they need each other in order to maintain their bargaining leverage with the Burmese government with whom they entered a cease-fire agreement in 1989.
Wei and his brothers have a firm grip on the Wa troops along the Thai border, an area commonly referred to as the South Wa region, while the Bao siblings control the area along the Chinese border, officially known as Special Region Two.
Since early 2000, Bao has shown signs of being willing to leave the trade, but in exchange for some sort of recognition from the international community, particularly from Thailand.
Bao even ceased opium cultivation in 2005 as a gesture of goodwill. But nobody took him seriously as millions of methamphetamine tablets coming from Wa-controlled areas continued to flood Thailand on a weekly basis. The opium harvest can be monitored by satellite images and quantified accordingly, but that is not the case with the clandestine labs pumping out so-called yaa-baa.
Over the past couple of years, chairman Bao has been in and out of the hospital because of various illnesses. His brother Yu-yee, who used to command a Wa battalion near the Thai border when Wei had a run-in with Burmese Army commander Maung Aye in early 2001, has the potential to replace Bao.
But the extent of his influence in the so-called South Wa region near the Thai border is nothing compared to that of Wei Hsueh-kang and his brothers.
Besides the rivalries between the two families, the UWSA itself is a problem - a global one at that.
Wei has long been on the list of America's most-wanted criminals ever since an indictment was filed against him in 1993 in the New York Federal Court accusing him of conspiring to distribute heroin to the United States. The US has placed a US$2 million(Bt66.8million) reward on his head. A Thai court sentenced him to death in 1997 on similar charges.
In January of 2005, the year that the UWSA announced it would put an end to its opium cultivation, the US Department of Justice charged seven more Wa leaders - including the three Bao brothers and two of Wei's siblings - with drug trafficking. Thai and Chinese narcotic officials were irked by the move, saying the charges against the Bao brothers really tied their hands.
Prior to the US charges being laid in January 2005, the Thais and the Chinese had been toying with various options in their dealings with the UWSA. While the Chinese saw Bao as someone they could deal with, whether clandestinely or otherwise, the Thai side wanted to pit the two families against one another.
Officials from Thailand's Office of the Narcotics Control Board said they were willing to let bygones be bygones and turn a new leaf in their relations with the UWSA if the organisation quit the drug trade.
This would have been a leap of faith indeed, considering how Wa militias and Thai soldiers have a history of engaging in bloody clashes along the border.
However, Thailand can't compromise on Wei because of legal implications, the officer added. In early 2003, the Thai Army even tried to split the UWSA by negotiating directly with Wei Sai-tang, a Wa commander who, like Hsueh-kang, controls a battalion in the South Wa region near the Thai border.
"Sai-tang was a nationalist and didn't think highly of the 'White Wa' - the Wei brothers. They were called white because they were ethnic Chinese," said a Thai intelligence source who had direct dealings with Sai-tang.
In exchange for parting with the UWSA, the Thai Army would provide Sai-tang's outfit with an economic and military lifeline from Thailand.
In this connection, Sai-tang would cleanse himself of the UWSA's past and effectively become a Thai proxy in the rugged hills of the Golden Triangle, a deadly region where everybody plays for keeps.
But when news got out, Hsueh-kang and Yu-xiang acted quickly. They whisked Sai-tang away from the Thai border and locked him up in Panghsang. He was charged with, among other things, producing illicit
drugs and fake banknotes.
Bao went ahead anyway and tried hard to befriend the international community. He allowed international NGOs to work inside Wa territory and public health and crop substitution projects, and reached out to UN agencies and foreign journalists.
While the Chinese and the Thais were willing to give Bao - not Wei - the benefit of the doubt, Washington didn't care to make the distinction between an opium warlord who wanted to kick the habit and a kingpin who didn't have much to lose.
But with an ailing Bao Yu-xiang's days numbered, the issue of succession has become a hot topic. Thai officials said they could forget about any future talk with the UWSA if Wei takes over. Chinese officials echoed the same sentiment. They said future dealings with the UWSA would be extremely difficult, given the US indictments.
For the time being, all eyes are on Xiao Ming-lien, the deputy chairman of the UWSA. "What's important is that Ming-lien is not on the US Department of Justice's wanted list," said the Thai military officer. "There would still be some breathing room," he added.
Both sides see Ming-lien as clean. But that, too, could be a problem. Without drugs, Ming-lien has no money. Without money, he has no army.
Promotion of drug kingpin looms large over Wa army's outside relations
Don Pathan
The Nation
Published on July 22, 2008
Something has got into drug kingpin Wei Hsueh-kang, the notorious opium warlord who controls a sizeable army near Thailand's northern border.
According to Chinese and Thai military sources and others monitoring the notorious Golden Triangle, Commander Wei is hoping he will be selected to the topmost position in the United Wa State Army (UWSA), one of Burma's ceasefire groups responsible for flooding Thailand with methamphetamines and the world with pure-white grade four heroin.
If that happens, Wei would replace ailing UWSA chairman Bao Yu-xiang, who runs the 20,000-strong army out of Panghsang, a small town on the Sino-Burmese border.
The Bao and the Wei families, while part of the UWSA structure, have historically been rivals. But they need each other in order to maintain their bargaining leverage with the Burmese government with whom they entered a cease-fire agreement in 1989.
Wei and his brothers have a firm grip on the Wa troops along the Thai border, an area commonly referred to as the South Wa region, while the Bao siblings control the area along the Chinese border, officially known as Special Region Two.
Since early 2000, Bao has shown signs of being willing to leave the trade, but in exchange for some sort of recognition from the international community, particularly from Thailand.
Bao even ceased opium cultivation in 2005 as a gesture of goodwill. But nobody took him seriously as millions of methamphetamine tablets coming from Wa-controlled areas continued to flood Thailand on a weekly basis. The opium harvest can be monitored by satellite images and quantified accordingly, but that is not the case with the clandestine labs pumping out so-called yaa-baa.
Over the past couple of years, chairman Bao has been in and out of hospital because of various illnesses. His brother Yu-yee, who used to command a Wa battalion near the Thai border when Wei had a run-in with Burmese Army commander Maung Aye in early 2001, has the potential to replace Bao.
But the extent of his influence in the so-called South Wa region near the Thai border is nothing compared to that of Wei Hsueh-kang and his brothers.
Besides the rivalries between the two families, the UWSA itself is a problem - a global one at that.
Wei has long been on the list of America's most-wanted criminals ever since an indictment was filed against him in 1993 in the New YorkFederal Court accusing him of conspiring to distribute heroin to the United States. The US has placed a US$2 million(Bt66.8million) reward on his head. A Thai court sentenced him to death in 1997 on similar charges.
In January of 2005, the year that the UWSA announced it would put an end to its opium cultivation, the US Department of Justice charged seven more Wa leaders - including the three Bao brothers and two of Wei's siblings - with drug trafficking.
Thai and Chinese narcotic officials were irked by the move, saying the charges against the Bao brothers really tied their hands.
Prior to the US charges being laid in January 2005, the Thais and the Chinese had been toying with various options in their dealings with the UWSA. While the Chinese saw Bao as someone they could deal with, whether clandestinely or otherwise, the Thai side wanted to pit the two families against one another.
Officials from Thailand's Office of the Narcotics Control Board said they were willing to let bygones be bygones and turn a new leaf in their relations with the UWSA if the organization quit the drug trade. This would have been a leap of faith indeed, considering how Wa militias and Thai soldiers have a history of engaging in bloody clashes along the border. However, Thailand can't compromise on Wei because of legal implications, the officer added.
In early 2003, the Thai Army even tried to split the UWSA by negotiating directly with Wei Sai-tang, a Wa commander who, like Hsueh-kang, controls a battalion in the South Wa region near the Thai border.
"Sai-tang was a nationalist and didn't think highly of the 'White Wa'- the Wei brothers. They were called white because they were ethnic Chinese," said a Thai intelligence source who had direct dealings with Sai-tang.
In exchange for parting with the UWSA, the Thai Army would provide Sai-tang's outfit with an economic and military lifeline from Thailand.
In this connection, Sai-tang would cleanse himself of the UWSA's past and effectively become a Thai proxy in the rugged hills of the Golden Triangle, a deadly region where everybody plays for keeps.
But when the news got out, Hsueh-kang and Yu-xiang acted quickly. They whisked Sai-tang away from the Thai border and locked him up in Panghsang. He was charged with, among other things, producing illicit drugs and fake banknotes.
Bao went ahead anyway and tried hard to befriend the international community. He allowed international NGOs to work inside Wa territory and public health and crop substitution projects, and reached out to UN agencies and foreign journalists.
While the Chinese and the Thais were willing to give Bao - not Wei - the benefit of the doubt, Washington didn't care to make the distinction between an opium warlord who wants to kick the habit and a kingpin who didn't have much to lose.
But with an ailing Bao Yu-xiang's days numbered, the issue of succession has become a hot topic.
Thai officials said they could forget about any future talk with the UWSA if Wei takes over.
Chinese officials echoed the same sentiment. They said future dealings with the UWSA would be extremely difficult, given the US indictments.
For the time being, all eyes are on Xiao Ming-lien, the deputy chairman of the UWSA.
"What's important is that Ming-lien is not on the US Department of Justice's wanted list," said the Thai military officer. "There would still be some breathing room," he added.
Both sides see Ming-lien as clean. But that, too, could be a problem. Without drugs, Ming-lien has no money. Without money, he has no army.
Sunday 20 July 2008
Ceasefire in south is just too good to be true
No one seems to know what to make of it, but the videotaped statement
that was aired on Army-run Channel 5 generated a great deal of debate
as to what the future holds.
By Don Pathan
The Nation
Just about all parties agree the whole thing is just too weird. A
group of men in fake beards and moustaches, one of them donning Blues
Brothers-style dark glasses, announcing an end to 100 years of armed
struggle for the independence of the Malay historical homeland
situated in Thailand's southernmost provinces.
No conditions were made. They just got tired of fighting and wanted to
live in peace. Those who refused the order would be considered a
renegade and subject to elimination, the head honcho said.
Immediately after the release of the videotaped statement, former Army
chief General Chettha Thanajaro, the man who claimed credit for
brokering an end to the violence, became the butt of jokes as attacks
in the deep South continued unabated.
Chettha thought he could conveniently put the onus on the militants
who refused to put down their weapons, simply because their
self-proclaimed leaders, who would not even make known their names or
organisation, said they had to quit.
Naturally, the identity of the three men immediately became an issue.
In order to trust them, one must know how much weight they carry with
the militants on the ground.
Army chief General Anupong Paochinda, while distancing himself from
the failed publicity stunt, identified the "leader" as Malipeng Khan,
a former insurgent commander who was active from 1984-87.
But then again, just about every separatist was active during that
time; it was the height of the insurgency of the previous generation
of militants.
Like Anupong, the foreign-affairs chief of the Patani United
Liberation Organisation, Kasturi Mahkota, immediately distanced
himself from the three men.
Others, speaking on condition of anonymity - one Army officer and an
exiled leader, both of whom have directly dealt with Malipeng -
dismissed Anupong's statement. "It was based on a decades-old photo of
Malipeng. The guy in the video looked like Malipeng, so they simply
assumed it was him," said the officer.
At first glance, it was clear someone with strong Thai nationalist
leanings prepared the script for the man. One exiled Patani-Malay
leader said the whole thing was a bit "insulting". The speaker made no
reference to "Patani", the historical Malay homeland.
Moreover, he was speaking standard Malay, not the local Patani
dialect. The flag was just as mysterious.
"Why would anyone listen to them? They don't even know them. This was
just bad drama," the exiled leader said.
There is concern among various quarters the incident could damage a
secret dialogue between the Army and exiled leaders of long-standing
separatist groups.
This "pre-talk" stage is delicate and could be politically costly if
the process is not treated with care. Moreover, given how Thailand's
top brass and others reacted to Thursday's announcement, it is clear
that Thailand's security architects have yet to come to a consensus on
the very idea of talking to the insurgents.
There is no indication this unofficial pretalk stage will evolve into
formal peace talks anytime soon.
Then-prime minister Surayud Chulanont, during a May 2007 visit to
Yala, told a press conference he had received "positive feedback" from
an ongoing "dialogue" with separatist groups.
But what Chettha did was try to take a short cut to the solution
instead of telling the people that reconciling with the Patani Malays
would come with a price. He will have to ask them if they can live
with the fact that not all of the people embrace the values and
principles that define Thailand's nation-state.
The fact that Chettha jumped the gun shows that the former Army chief
has little understanding or gives little consideration to the
sensitivity of this issue that for much of the past century has pitted
the Malay-speaking community against the Thai state.
that was aired on Army-run Channel 5 generated a great deal of debate
as to what the future holds.
By Don Pathan
The Nation
Just about all parties agree the whole thing is just too weird. A
group of men in fake beards and moustaches, one of them donning Blues
Brothers-style dark glasses, announcing an end to 100 years of armed
struggle for the independence of the Malay historical homeland
situated in Thailand's southernmost provinces.
No conditions were made. They just got tired of fighting and wanted to
live in peace. Those who refused the order would be considered a
renegade and subject to elimination, the head honcho said.
Immediately after the release of the videotaped statement, former Army
chief General Chettha Thanajaro, the man who claimed credit for
brokering an end to the violence, became the butt of jokes as attacks
in the deep South continued unabated.
Chettha thought he could conveniently put the onus on the militants
who refused to put down their weapons, simply because their
self-proclaimed leaders, who would not even make known their names or
organisation, said they had to quit.
Naturally, the identity of the three men immediately became an issue.
In order to trust them, one must know how much weight they carry with
the militants on the ground.
Army chief General Anupong Paochinda, while distancing himself from
the failed publicity stunt, identified the "leader" as Malipeng Khan,
a former insurgent commander who was active from 1984-87.
But then again, just about every separatist was active during that
time; it was the height of the insurgency of the previous generation
of militants.
Like Anupong, the foreign-affairs chief of the Patani United
Liberation Organisation, Kasturi Mahkota, immediately distanced
himself from the three men.
Others, speaking on condition of anonymity - one Army officer and an
exiled leader, both of whom have directly dealt with Malipeng -
dismissed Anupong's statement. "It was based on a decades-old photo of
Malipeng. The guy in the video looked like Malipeng, so they simply
assumed it was him," said the officer.
At first glance, it was clear someone with strong Thai nationalist
leanings prepared the script for the man. One exiled Patani-Malay
leader said the whole thing was a bit "insulting". The speaker made no
reference to "Patani", the historical Malay homeland.
Moreover, he was speaking standard Malay, not the local Patani
dialect. The flag was just as mysterious.
"Why would anyone listen to them? They don't even know them. This was
just bad drama," the exiled leader said.
There is concern among various quarters the incident could damage a
secret dialogue between the Army and exiled leaders of long-standing
separatist groups.
This "pre-talk" stage is delicate and could be politically costly if
the process is not treated with care. Moreover, given how Thailand's
top brass and others reacted to Thursday's announcement, it is clear
that Thailand's security architects have yet to come to a consensus on
the very idea of talking to the insurgents.
There is no indication this unofficial pretalk stage will evolve into
formal peace talks anytime soon.
Then-prime minister Surayud Chulanont, during a May 2007 visit to
Yala, told a press conference he had received "positive feedback" from
an ongoing "dialogue" with separatist groups.
But what Chettha did was try to take a short cut to the solution
instead of telling the people that reconciling with the Patani Malays
would come with a price. He will have to ask them if they can live
with the fact that not all of the people embrace the values and
principles that define Thailand's nation-state.
The fact that Chettha jumped the gun shows that the former Army chief
has little understanding or gives little consideration to the
sensitivity of this issue that for much of the past century has pitted
the Malay-speaking community against the Thai state.
Sunday 6 July 2008
Desperately seeking a drug-smuggling warlord
Don Pathan
The Nation
For some weeks now Interior Minister Chalerm Yoobamrung has been talking about his connection with Ai Joe, a mysterious figure who supposedly handles Wei Hsueh-kang's drug money.
Wei is a top commander in the 20,000-strong United Wa State Army (UWSA), dubbed the world's largest armed drug- trafficking army by the US government. His battalion controls a sizeable chunk of land adjacent to the northern Thai border with Burma, where he churns out millions of methamphetamine pills on a weekly basis, not to mention some of the world's finest grade-four heroin.
No one outside the Wa territory knows who Ai Joe really is or what he looks like. The only thing we know about Ai Joe, if Chalerm is to be trusted, is that he is an acquaintance of Duang, the Interior chief's son. Chalerm said Duang and Ai Joe had, over the past five years, established enough rapport to serve as the basis for possible negotiations.
Chalerm's idea is to send his son to seek a possible way out for Wei, with the hope that this could pave the way for the beginning of the end of illicit drugs coming into Thailand from the Burmese side of the border.
The idea is to get Wei to kick the habit in exchange for some sort of economic assistance from Thailand. For Chalerm, the idea has a noble ring to it: by helping them, we help ourselves.
Burma watchers, especially those keeping a close watch on the opium trade and the rebel insurgency in the Burmese sector of the Golden Triangle, are scratching their heads as to what to make of Chalerm's proposal. It's not so much a question of Chalerm's credibility. The doubt tends to centre on the merit of the proposal itself.
First of all, Chalerm doesn't seem to mind the fact that Wei is one of America's most wanted persons, with a reward tag of US$2 million(Bt67,500,000). He jumped bail in Thailand in 1987 on heroin trafficking charges and was later sentenced to death in absentia by a Thai court.
A UWSA senior officer, speaking on condition of anonymity, said, "Commander Wei's movements and whereabouts are highly secret out of concern that he could be nabbed at any given moment."
And in spite of being under the UWSA banner, Wei's business empire, which stretches to Hong Kong, Shanghai and Bangkok, not to mention Rangoon, leads up to, and is controlled by him and him alone.
A Chinese officer monitoring the UWSA's activities described the organisation as experiencing a dumbbell effect, with Wei and his brothers controlling the Wa area along the Thai border, while UWSA chairman Bao Yu-xiang and his brothers control areas along the Sino-Burma border.
Chairman Bao has shown willingness to enter into negotiations with the West, including the US and Thailand. He even tried giving up opium cultivation for two seasons to win favours. But no one welcomed his gesture. In fact, the US responded unfavourably. The US Department of Justice in January 2005 indicted seven Wa leaders on drug trafficking charges.
Wei, being one of the world's most notorious criminals, can't afford to play at diplomacy.
"Wei's men do push-ups every day. They are always on high alert for whatever threat may come their way," the Chinese official said.
The proposal from Chalerm is nothing new. Thailand, during the Thaksin Shinawatra administration, went down this well-trodden road before, and the end result was a great deal of embarrassment.
Thaksin was duped by the then security tsar of Burma, General Khin Nyunt, into whitewashing the UWSA by initiating a joint crop-substitution/development project in UWSA-controlled areas near the Thai border.
Seed money of Bt20 million from the Thai government helped build a school. But no students attended classes until Chinese-speaking teachers were hired.
The opening ceremony saw the then Thai Third Army Region commander Lt-Gen Picharnmate Muangmanee singing and dancing with Chairman Bao. Strange bedfellows, indeed, considering the fact that just a year ago Wa and Thai soldiers were slugging it out along the common border.
Perhaps Chalerm has something up his sleeve. But if the turbulent history of Burma tells us anything at all, it is that drugs and insurgency are two sides of the same coin.
Chalerm can't possibility solve the drug problem without taking the political dimension into consideration. And until an adequate political settlement can be reached between the Burmese junta and all the armed ethnic armies, one can forget about seeing these drug armies kicking the habit.
No one will ever climb a mountain to buy cabbages. They will, however, do so to buy opium and methamphetamines.
Note: For more information from the US Department of Justice's indictment on the eight UWSA leaders, click http://www.usdoj.gov/dea/pubs/states/newsrel
Friday 30 May 2008
Army's abuses come home to roost in South
Anupong, who was in the deep South the following day on an official visit, said he would set up a committee to investigate the imam Yapa Kaseng's death. Bangkok-based diplomats and human-rights advocates initially supported Anupong's response.
By DON PATHAN
The Nation
There were high hopes among observers of Thailand's southern conflict that the justice system would prevail when Army Chief General Anupong Paochinda vowed to get to the bottom of the death of a Narathiwat imam who was killed while in military custody last March.
It was reported that he died from internal bleeding. His ribs were cracked, apparently from being kicked repeatedly while soldiers interrogated him.
Authorities tried but failed to reach an out-of-court settlement with the family who are demanding answers in the death of their family head.
News of his death spread like wildfire, seriously undermining the already fragile relationship between Thai security forces and the Muslim Malay community in the restive region.
Anupong, who was in the deep South the following day on an official visit, said he would set up a committee to investigate the imam's death. Bangkok-based diplomats and human-rights advocates initially supported Anupong's response.
But today, two months later, there is a growing concern that Yapa's case would go down the road to oblivion. Yapa's daughter has filed a formal complaint with the police, putting her last hopes with the country's legal system.
But like other controversial cases against state security agencies operating in the region, attempting to reach an out-of-court settlement or sitting on the case long enough for it to be forgotten, appears to be the preferred mode of operation.
According to the Muslim Attorney Centre's Kitcha Ali-ishoh, who handles hundreds of cases in the deep South where violence has claimed more than 3,000 lives, most of them Malay Muslims, Yapa 's case has yet to move beyond the police station.
Army spokesman Colonel Acra Thiproch said the case is in the legal pipeline but couldn't say when the system will render its verdict.
Kitcha said the system as it stands is stacked against defendants.
"Hundreds of cases have been handed to the attorney general. Not one has been rejected in spite of the fact that, as past cases have shown, most of these allegations have no merit," Kitcha said.
In other words, young men are locked up for months, and at times for years, until their cases are brought to court. Most are eventually set free as the evidence against them is lacking. The waiting period, which offers virtually no opportunity for bail, has become a bargaining chip in itself, Kitcha said.
From a bird's eye view, law enforcement is acting on what they believe, but not on what they can prove in a court of law.
Intelligence work over the years has not only failed to curb the violence in the South, but has made little headway in getting into the heart of the network of insurgents. Information leading to the arrest or detention of suspects is mainly based on secondary sources and often solicited through torture.
While torture has long been suspected to be part of interrogations, recent years have seen a growing number of people coming forward to accuse authorities of torturing them while under detention.
Information about suspects usually comes from secondary sources, instead of solid evidence that could hold up in court, Kitcha said.
These suspects are "invited for questioning" by authorities who have the power under martial law to hold them incommunicado for seven days and if needed, to extend that period by 30 days.
From June to November of last year, thousands of young men were detained following a series of blind sweeps through villages in highly contested areas.
The courts intervened in the Army project that saw hundreds of young men sent against their will to military camps in the upper South for what was supposed to be "job training". The court, however, ruled that the scheme was unconstitutional and ordered it to stop.
A current public-relations campaign by the Internal Security Operation Command capitalised on the fact that the overall number of attacks, especially on soft targets, has gone down in recent months. But according to Human Rights Watch's Sunai Phasuk, the number of attacks may have decreased, but recent attacks have become much more accurate and deadly.
While newer recruits continue to carry out regular disturbances, the more experienced commandos take out security convoys and military installations, he said.
"Having more men and more guns does not guarantee success," said Sunai. "Widespread abuse and impunity in counterinsurgency operations have made the ground fertile for recruitment and radicalisation, making it likely for the insurgency to continue for generations."
Part of the difficulty in breaking the back of the insurgents is that they have ample recruits on the ground. The fact that this generation of militants is so organic and decentralised makes any comprehensive, across the board strategy irrelevant.
Moreover, it is premature and misleading for Thai authorities to congratulate themselves on the declining number of attacks without taking serious action on the root causes of the conflict - which they have created. The conduct of the security forces, as seen in Yapa 's case, as well as controversial policies, are driving young Malay Muslim men into the arms of the insurgents.
The military justifies its controversial actions on the ground by saying that it is trying to weed out bad apples.But for local Malay Muslims, with their historic mistrust of the state apparatus and government agencies, these controversial efforts reinforce the notion that the Thai authorities are colonial masters.
Saturday 29 March 2008
In the South, the media, too, must think outside the box
Don Pathan
Pattani
Just recently a couple of dozen reporters based in the three southernmost provinces came together in Pattani, along with senior members of the Thai Journalists' Association, to brainstorm on the ongoing violence in the restive region and how to better cover it.
Top security officials were invited to make their case, particularly over how they perceived the media's coverage of the conflict in the region. Naturally, they asked that their side of the story be heard and that the media be more sympathetic to the challenges confronting them. According to these officials, the media has a role to play in reconciling the differences between the people of the Malay-speaking, Muslim-majority South and the rest of the country. The reporters agreed.
What they couldn't agree on was who, if anybody, should have a monopoly on defining what constitutes reconciliation - or in this case, reconciliatory news stories.
Like any government, the current administration and its bureaucratic machines claim that they have the facts. And because they have the monopoly on these facts, they are the ones who, supposedly, know what's best for the country. And so they issue official lines to the media to be presented to the public. What bothered many journalists was how these facts have been presented. They made it clear that the authorities must share the burden, but essentially agreed that it was part of their responsibility to present accurate and well-rounded stories.
But still, the question remains: should anybody have a monopoly on shaping the context of the story? For too long, the way the deep South was understood had been shaped by the state. For the officials, the answer is clear-cut and simple: the country is facing a new generation of Malay-Muslim militants who embrace a false teaching of Islam and are taught a wrong version of history - the version that says the Malay-speaking South has always been a part of Thailand, even before the world came up with this relatively new notion called the "nation-state".
Moreover, one should not deviate from this notion because, in doing so, one would be accused of adding to the problem instead of being part of the solution. What the state didn't say was that a new can of worms would be opened and they would be left to clean up the mess.
Reporters at the workshop admitted that being too close to the official line had taken its toll on them and they were concerned about their safety. Many said they had alienated their audience, particularly the Malay Muslims, who make up about 80 per cent of the people in the three southernmost provinces. Some even experienced verbal abuse from Muslims, who see them as a government mouthpiece.
It would be different, of course, if the Malay-Muslim public trusted the state. For years, the question of the legitimacy of the Thai state in the historical Malay-speaking homeland has loomed over the region. Since this wave of violence erupted in January 2004, more than 3,000 people have been killed.
According to the journalists, one way to get around this - to not be perceived as a mouthpiece of the state - is to call a spade a spade. Specifically, they asked that editors in Bangkok do less in terms of "sexing up" their stories and instead permit more human-interest stories. For most problems, acknowledging shortcomings is the first step toward a solution. Whether Thai journalists can think outside the box and withstand the wrath of state officials, on the other hand, remains to be seen.
Unlike conflicts elsewhere, there is no message from the insurgents. While the region is not short of critics, all agree that news reporting on the South would be elevated to a higher plane if the opposing forces designated their own spokesmen. But this won't happen anytime soon. Southern Thailand is not Aceh at its worst or Mindanao in its current predicament. One can't just pick up the phone and get the "other side of the story".
Because of the ongoing violence, Thailand's South is the most studied region in the country. For the most part, narratives on the region are presented essentially as sub-narratives of Thailand as a whole. The Thai media have been reluctant to acknowledge that a disturbing portion of the southern population have not come to terms with the country's notion of nation-state - because in doing so, they risk being seen as sympathetic to the people who, in the words of the state, have been misled by the false teaching of history and who embrace the wrong brand of Islam.
The challenge, it seems, is not just for the state to come up with a more realistic explanation as to why generation after generation question the legitimacy of the Thai state in the deep South. The media, too, must learn to think outside the box.
Pattani
Just recently a couple of dozen reporters based in the three southernmost provinces came together in Pattani, along with senior members of the Thai Journalists' Association, to brainstorm on the ongoing violence in the restive region and how to better cover it.
Top security officials were invited to make their case, particularly over how they perceived the media's coverage of the conflict in the region. Naturally, they asked that their side of the story be heard and that the media be more sympathetic to the challenges confronting them. According to these officials, the media has a role to play in reconciling the differences between the people of the Malay-speaking, Muslim-majority South and the rest of the country. The reporters agreed.
What they couldn't agree on was who, if anybody, should have a monopoly on defining what constitutes reconciliation - or in this case, reconciliatory news stories.
Like any government, the current administration and its bureaucratic machines claim that they have the facts. And because they have the monopoly on these facts, they are the ones who, supposedly, know what's best for the country. And so they issue official lines to the media to be presented to the public. What bothered many journalists was how these facts have been presented. They made it clear that the authorities must share the burden, but essentially agreed that it was part of their responsibility to present accurate and well-rounded stories.
But still, the question remains: should anybody have a monopoly on shaping the context of the story? For too long, the way the deep South was understood had been shaped by the state. For the officials, the answer is clear-cut and simple: the country is facing a new generation of Malay-Muslim militants who embrace a false teaching of Islam and are taught a wrong version of history - the version that says the Malay-speaking South has always been a part of Thailand, even before the world came up with this relatively new notion called the "nation-state".
Moreover, one should not deviate from this notion because, in doing so, one would be accused of adding to the problem instead of being part of the solution. What the state didn't say was that a new can of worms would be opened and they would be left to clean up the mess.
Reporters at the workshop admitted that being too close to the official line had taken its toll on them and they were concerned about their safety. Many said they had alienated their audience, particularly the Malay Muslims, who make up about 80 per cent of the people in the three southernmost provinces. Some even experienced verbal abuse from Muslims, who see them as a government mouthpiece.
It would be different, of course, if the Malay-Muslim public trusted the state. For years, the question of the legitimacy of the Thai state in the historical Malay-speaking homeland has loomed over the region. Since this wave of violence erupted in January 2004, more than 3,000 people have been killed.
According to the journalists, one way to get around this - to not be perceived as a mouthpiece of the state - is to call a spade a spade. Specifically, they asked that editors in Bangkok do less in terms of "sexing up" their stories and instead permit more human-interest stories. For most problems, acknowledging shortcomings is the first step toward a solution. Whether Thai journalists can think outside the box and withstand the wrath of state officials, on the other hand, remains to be seen.
Unlike conflicts elsewhere, there is no message from the insurgents. While the region is not short of critics, all agree that news reporting on the South would be elevated to a higher plane if the opposing forces designated their own spokesmen. But this won't happen anytime soon. Southern Thailand is not Aceh at its worst or Mindanao in its current predicament. One can't just pick up the phone and get the "other side of the story".
Because of the ongoing violence, Thailand's South is the most studied region in the country. For the most part, narratives on the region are presented essentially as sub-narratives of Thailand as a whole. The Thai media have been reluctant to acknowledge that a disturbing portion of the southern population have not come to terms with the country's notion of nation-state - because in doing so, they risk being seen as sympathetic to the people who, in the words of the state, have been misled by the false teaching of history and who embrace the wrong brand of Islam.
The challenge, it seems, is not just for the state to come up with a more realistic explanation as to why generation after generation question the legitimacy of the Thai state in the deep South. The media, too, must learn to think outside the box.
Friday 21 March 2008
Lessons from the southern insurgency not learned
Published on March 20, 2008 -
Last May in Yala, then Prime Minister Surayud Chulanont told a press conference that he had received "positive feedback" from separatist groups over the idea of establishing some sort of "dialogue".
But he warned that more work had to be done before permanent peace in the Malay-speaking deep South could be achieved.
Kasturi Mahkota, foreign-affairs chief of the Patani United Liberation Organisation (Pulo), immediately welcomed Surayud's statement. He called it a "positive gesture".
But on Tuesday in Bangkok, Prime Minister Samak Sundaravej, ruled out the idea of negotiating with the separatists. Local media gave Samak's statement a great deal of coverage but failed to provide a proper context to this sticky issue.
For as long as anybody can remember, Thai security officials have been going to the Middle East, Europe and neighbouring countries to talk to the leaders of long-standing separatist groups, including the Patani United Liberation Organisation (Pulo), Barisan Revolusi Nasional (BRN) and Barisan Islam Pembebasan (BIPP).
However, the outcomes of these off-and-on chats have failed to have any affect on policy because they are carried out in an ad-hoc manner. They just want to sound out the separatists rather then work towards achieving something more constructive.
"Of course, they all say they are representatives of the Thai government," said one exiled leader who spoke on condition of anonymity.
Samak said most government agencies disagree with direct negotiations. However, he was tight-lipped about the secret meetings between the two sides while insisting that the government was not going to sit down with the separatists on an equal basis.
Jolted by the weekend car bombs in Pattani and Yala, Samak had to sound uncompromising in public. The veteran politician knows he is dealing with an issue that cannot be easily translated into a quick political victory. Perhaps that is one of the reasons why the premier and his interior chief, Chalerm Yoobamrung, have been side-stepping the issue.
The problem with the Thai security top brass is that, after years of talking to the separatists, their attitude has not changed. They see themselves as "negotiating with bandits" rather than being in a "dialogue with fellow citizens" - people who embrace a different political ideology, as the communist insurgents did two decades ago.
The only thing that successive Thai administrations have agreed upon is that the issue should not be internationalised. In other words, no foreign governments or international organisations should be involved in mediating the talks or be allowed to snoop around the deep South, where allegations of gross human rights violations and questionable security practices are rife. Thailand looks at East Timor and Aceh and tells itself that this is not what it wants.
The problem with the Thai generals is that they think like Thai politicians. They all want the violence to end under their watch. Never mind that the problem is deeply rooted in history and shaped by mistrust and the resistance of southern Muslims to Thailand's policy of assimilation.
Another problem is that the old guard - older members of the separatist groups - don't and, in most cases, can't control the new generation of militants on the ground. Locally known as juwae, the new generation of insurgents do not necessarily identify with the old guard, and they engage in the kind of brutality unheard of by the previous generation. They are organised in cell clusters but have the capacity to coordinate attacks - 100 targets at a time - throughout the region.
Even after years of being on the receiving end of this battle, the government is still unable to fine-tune a number of important initiatives. At a recent Thai Journalists' Association seminar in Pattani, the provincial Task Force commander, Major General Thawatchai Samutsakorn, said the "government can't tell me what they [insurgents] will get if they surrender".
Often, a suspect who surrenders is paraded in front of the media, unable to speak freely, while top officials tell the public how the suspect has come to his senses after being misled by some false religious teaching and distorted history.
And afterwards, when released, the "reformed" militant becomes a target of his former comrades.
Nearly 3,000 people have been killed in the insurgency since it began in January 2004.
Wednesday 19 March 2008
Insurgents make it clear there is no neutral ground
Don Pathan
Pattani
It was dubbed "Rick's Cafe" by one foreign diplomat, in reference to the hangout in the movie Casablanca, neutral turf where all World War II warring factions cautiously mingled, trying to figure out their opponent's next move.
But whatever "neutrality" the CS Pattani Hotel had in the past ended on Saturday evening, as the violence in this restive region took its toll on the hotel, one of the most important commercial establishments in the deep South.
For much of the past five years, this hotel was the venue for some of the fiercest debates among top government officials, local elites, Muslim clerics, human-rights activists and local politicians.
They all came to sip tea and chat with acquaintances at the terrace restaurant next to the very spot where a car armed with three fire-extinguisher canisters, each filled with 10 kilograms of explosive materials, was parked.
Given the high-profile nature of CS Pattani, not to mention the unprecedented nature of the car-bomb attack, it was somewhat odd that Cabinet ministers remained tight-lipped throughout the weekend.
Two bombs exploded simultaneously on that unforgettable night, killing two and injuring about 15 others. But a third bomb, found about 30 metres away from where the car was parked, was a dud.
The blast tore up a row of vehicles parked in front of the hotel and shattered all the windows on the front side of this eight-floor hotel, as well as those of two rows of nearby shop houses.
Besides putting an end to the longstanding notion of the CS Pattani as a violence-free zone, the use of a car bomb against this soft target was an indication that the violence in this restive region has crossed a new threshold.
Earlier in the day, a similar incident took place in front of a Yala public school when a bomb, also hidden in a vehicle, exploded mid-afternoon, killing the driver who was said to have been a key bomb-maker for a militant cell in the province.
While many were stunned at the loss of the last safe haven in this restive region, Pattani Task Force commander, Maj-General Thawatchai Samutsakorn, said he had serious doubts as to whether the use of car bombs would become a major component in the militants' fight against the Thai state.
Sunai Phasuk, of Human Rights Watch, sees Saturday's attack as a blunt statement by militants after 10 months of being on the receiving end of the military's shakedown, which has forced some cells to go under and has put some militants on the run.
The controversial shakedown campaign, kicked off in July 2007, has consisted of blind sweeps of remote villages withup to 100 individuals taken in for questioning. Individuals deemed to be in the "high-risk" category have been sent to military boot camps under the guise of "job training" and "counselling".
On the ground, allegations of torture, wrongful arrest, and target killings were piling up towards the end of the term of the military-installed government, which was replaced by the current administration.
But while the blind sweeps succeeded in halting roadside bombings, especially in the more highly contested areas in Yala and Narathiwat, where the suspects behind Saturday's operation were based, top security brass didn't predict how the insurgents would make their comeback.
The car bomb at the CS Pattani Hotel, Sunai said, was more than just a way of telling the security apparatus that they were back.
"They are sending a spine-chilling message across the region that the separatist fighters are striking back, and that no one and nowhere is safe," Sunai said.
Separatist militants in Thailand's southern border provinces are not known for respecting universal principles prohibiting attacks on civilians and civilian targets. Such a radical and brutal ideology feeds on ongoing abuses and injustice committed by Thai security forces in their counterinsurgency operations, Sunai said.
"But nothing can justify human-rights violations. The fight for freedom or acts of retribution against state-sponsored abuses does not give these militants justification to shoot, or blow up civilians like this. This is madness, not a liberation war," Sunai added.
But Thawatchai warned against overrating Saturday's operation, saying it appeared to be the work of one particular cell and added that there is nothing to suggest that other cells would follow suit or that they would have the means to do so.
He also pointed to their blunders - the fact that the third canister didn't go off, and the premature detonation of the car bomb in Yala, which ended up taking the operative's life.
Unlike the previous generation of separatist fighters who camped out in remote pockets along the hills near the Thai-Malaysian border, today's militants, often referred to as "juwae", or fighter, by local residents, are organised in cells or clusters of cells with a high degree of coordination. This enables them to carry out simultaneous attacks across this historically contested region where about 80 per cent of the inhabitants are Muslims of Malay ethnicity.
Thawatchai thinks local residents would be less sympathetic to the juwae's fight if their bombs continue to go off in areas popular among Muslims, such as the CS Pattani.
Indeed, killing Muslims suspected of spying for the Thai state is one thing; a powerful bomb that sees no racial or ethnic lines is another. Two men died from Saturday's blast at the CS Pattani. One was a Muslim security guard and the second a Thai Buddhist cook.
Pattani
It was dubbed "Rick's Cafe" by one foreign diplomat, in reference to the hangout in the movie Casablanca, neutral turf where all World War II warring factions cautiously mingled, trying to figure out their opponent's next move.
But whatever "neutrality" the CS Pattani Hotel had in the past ended on Saturday evening, as the violence in this restive region took its toll on the hotel, one of the most important commercial establishments in the deep South.
For much of the past five years, this hotel was the venue for some of the fiercest debates among top government officials, local elites, Muslim clerics, human-rights activists and local politicians.
They all came to sip tea and chat with acquaintances at the terrace restaurant next to the very spot where a car armed with three fire-extinguisher canisters, each filled with 10 kilograms of explosive materials, was parked.
Given the high-profile nature of CS Pattani, not to mention the unprecedented nature of the car-bomb attack, it was somewhat odd that Cabinet ministers remained tight-lipped throughout the weekend.
Two bombs exploded simultaneously on that unforgettable night, killing two and injuring about 15 others. But a third bomb, found about 30 metres away from where the car was parked, was a dud.
The blast tore up a row of vehicles parked in front of the hotel and shattered all the windows on the front side of this eight-floor hotel, as well as those of two rows of nearby shop houses.
Besides putting an end to the longstanding notion of the CS Pattani as a violence-free zone, the use of a car bomb against this soft target was an indication that the violence in this restive region has crossed a new threshold.
Earlier in the day, a similar incident took place in front of a Yala public school when a bomb, also hidden in a vehicle, exploded mid-afternoon, killing the driver who was said to have been a key bomb-maker for a militant cell in the province.
While many were stunned at the loss of the last safe haven in this restive region, Pattani Task Force commander, Maj-General Thawatchai Samutsakorn, said he had serious doubts as to whether the use of car bombs would become a major component in the militants' fight against the Thai state.
Sunai Phasuk, of Human Rights Watch, sees Saturday's attack as a blunt statement by militants after 10 months of being on the receiving end of the military's shakedown, which has forced some cells to go under and has put some militants on the run.
The controversial shakedown campaign, kicked off in July 2007, has consisted of blind sweeps of remote villages withup to 100 individuals taken in for questioning. Individuals deemed to be in the "high-risk" category have been sent to military boot camps under the guise of "job training" and "counselling".
On the ground, allegations of torture, wrongful arrest, and target killings were piling up towards the end of the term of the military-installed government, which was replaced by the current administration.
But while the blind sweeps succeeded in halting roadside bombings, especially in the more highly contested areas in Yala and Narathiwat, where the suspects behind Saturday's operation were based, top security brass didn't predict how the insurgents would make their comeback.
The car bomb at the CS Pattani Hotel, Sunai said, was more than just a way of telling the security apparatus that they were back.
"They are sending a spine-chilling message across the region that the separatist fighters are striking back, and that no one and nowhere is safe," Sunai said.
Separatist militants in Thailand's southern border provinces are not known for respecting universal principles prohibiting attacks on civilians and civilian targets. Such a radical and brutal ideology feeds on ongoing abuses and injustice committed by Thai security forces in their counterinsurgency operations, Sunai said.
"But nothing can justify human-rights violations. The fight for freedom or acts of retribution against state-sponsored abuses does not give these militants justification to shoot, or blow up civilians like this. This is madness, not a liberation war," Sunai added.
But Thawatchai warned against overrating Saturday's operation, saying it appeared to be the work of one particular cell and added that there is nothing to suggest that other cells would follow suit or that they would have the means to do so.
He also pointed to their blunders - the fact that the third canister didn't go off, and the premature detonation of the car bomb in Yala, which ended up taking the operative's life.
Unlike the previous generation of separatist fighters who camped out in remote pockets along the hills near the Thai-Malaysian border, today's militants, often referred to as "juwae", or fighter, by local residents, are organised in cells or clusters of cells with a high degree of coordination. This enables them to carry out simultaneous attacks across this historically contested region where about 80 per cent of the inhabitants are Muslims of Malay ethnicity.
Thawatchai thinks local residents would be less sympathetic to the juwae's fight if their bombs continue to go off in areas popular among Muslims, such as the CS Pattani.
Indeed, killing Muslims suspected of spying for the Thai state is one thing; a powerful bomb that sees no racial or ethnic lines is another. Two men died from Saturday's blast at the CS Pattani. One was a Muslim security guard and the second a Thai Buddhist cook.
Sunday 27 January 2008
Pornthip means well, but she misunderstands the south
Don Pathan
The Nation
Khunying Dr Pornthip Rojanasunand was visibly upset when she appeared
on television to talk about the recent tragedy that ended in the death
of several of her staff.
Some of her most dedicated people lost their lives when an army
helicopter went down in Banang Sata district, a highly contested area
where clashes between Thai security forces and Malay Muslim insurgents
take place on a regular basis.
In line with her old self, Pornthip took a pot shot at the police,
whom she accused of being uncooperative with her forensic department.
But she didn't leave the airwaves without slamming the local Malay
Muslims, whom she accused of being ungrateful to the Thai state.
Pornthip told her interviewer claims by some state officials of making
headway in winning the hearts and minds of the local Malay Muslims in
Thailand's southernmost provinces was untrue.
She pointed to the recent train attack by a group of at least six
gunmen who shot and killed four security officials. Pornthip said none
of the passengers - most if not all were local Malays - made no effort
to give the officials any information about the presence of the
militants who were disguised as soldiers when they jumped on the
train.
The hundreds of roadside bombs of recent years, said Pornthip, were
planted under the very noses of the local residents. And yet, no one
ever comes forward.
Like typical bureaucrats assigned to the Malay-speaking South,
Pornthip feels the "Thai Muslim" residents have failed to live up to
their responsibility as citizens.
Coming to terms with knowing that Malay Muslims could do more but
won't has been extremely difficult for many Thai officials who see
themselves as doing good deeds for their fellow citizens.
It has been difficult for them because, like Pornthip, they cannot see
that the ongoing violence in the deep South is much more than a
problem of law and order.
It is a conflict - one that has pitted the Malay (not Thai) Muslims
insurgents against what they see as illegitimate foreign troops, and
that the local Muslim community is stuck between the two sides.
They may or may not agree with the insurgents' brutal methods but they
are not going to stick their neck out to help representatives of a
state they don't trust.
And if they do stick their neck out for whatever reason, can the state
guarantee their safety and protection from the insurgents?
The militants have shown they have no qualms about killing fellow
Malay Muslims if they are considered a legitimate target. In fact,
most of the victims of the daily drive-by killings - not taking into
account the ambush of military conveys - are ethnic Malays. All are
card-carrying Thai citizens.
Unless people like Pornthip come to terms with the fact that, in the
eyes of the local Malay residents, the three southernmost provinces
are occupied territory, the state cannot expect to make any meaningful
progress towards solving the problems in the deep South.
There are many officials like Pornthip who go down south with good
intentions. But good intentions are not a policy.
Moreover, communication and information strategies of the state have
been geared towards domestic consumption. Desperately trying to
illustrate they are on the right track, officials unabashedly, every
week or so, announce that a "key leader" has been arrested, or that a
"major breakthrough" has been achieved.
There is this need to tell the public that this or that victim was
shot dead because he was an informant.
If the vicious attacks over this past week are any indication, it is
that the capacity of the insurgents is still very much intact and they
are at liberty to pick and choose their targets.
The Nation
Khunying Dr Pornthip Rojanasunand was visibly upset when she appeared
on television to talk about the recent tragedy that ended in the death
of several of her staff.
Some of her most dedicated people lost their lives when an army
helicopter went down in Banang Sata district, a highly contested area
where clashes between Thai security forces and Malay Muslim insurgents
take place on a regular basis.
In line with her old self, Pornthip took a pot shot at the police,
whom she accused of being uncooperative with her forensic department.
But she didn't leave the airwaves without slamming the local Malay
Muslims, whom she accused of being ungrateful to the Thai state.
Pornthip told her interviewer claims by some state officials of making
headway in winning the hearts and minds of the local Malay Muslims in
Thailand's southernmost provinces was untrue.
She pointed to the recent train attack by a group of at least six
gunmen who shot and killed four security officials. Pornthip said none
of the passengers - most if not all were local Malays - made no effort
to give the officials any information about the presence of the
militants who were disguised as soldiers when they jumped on the
train.
The hundreds of roadside bombs of recent years, said Pornthip, were
planted under the very noses of the local residents. And yet, no one
ever comes forward.
Like typical bureaucrats assigned to the Malay-speaking South,
Pornthip feels the "Thai Muslim" residents have failed to live up to
their responsibility as citizens.
Coming to terms with knowing that Malay Muslims could do more but
won't has been extremely difficult for many Thai officials who see
themselves as doing good deeds for their fellow citizens.
It has been difficult for them because, like Pornthip, they cannot see
that the ongoing violence in the deep South is much more than a
problem of law and order.
It is a conflict - one that has pitted the Malay (not Thai) Muslims
insurgents against what they see as illegitimate foreign troops, and
that the local Muslim community is stuck between the two sides.
They may or may not agree with the insurgents' brutal methods but they
are not going to stick their neck out to help representatives of a
state they don't trust.
And if they do stick their neck out for whatever reason, can the state
guarantee their safety and protection from the insurgents?
The militants have shown they have no qualms about killing fellow
Malay Muslims if they are considered a legitimate target. In fact,
most of the victims of the daily drive-by killings - not taking into
account the ambush of military conveys - are ethnic Malays. All are
card-carrying Thai citizens.
Unless people like Pornthip come to terms with the fact that, in the
eyes of the local Malay residents, the three southernmost provinces
are occupied territory, the state cannot expect to make any meaningful
progress towards solving the problems in the deep South.
There are many officials like Pornthip who go down south with good
intentions. But good intentions are not a policy.
Moreover, communication and information strategies of the state have
been geared towards domestic consumption. Desperately trying to
illustrate they are on the right track, officials unabashedly, every
week or so, announce that a "key leader" has been arrested, or that a
"major breakthrough" has been achieved.
There is this need to tell the public that this or that victim was
shot dead because he was an informant.
If the vicious attacks over this past week are any indication, it is
that the capacity of the insurgents is still very much intact and they
are at liberty to pick and choose their targets.
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