Peace deal meaningless unless militants can take it seriously

Don Pathan
The Nation

No one in their right mind expected to see any real breakthrough at the recent peace talks between a National Security Council (NSC)-led team and a group calling themselves Barisan Revolusi Nasional-Coordinate (BRN-C) members.

The two sides entered into a historic “agreement” on February 28 in Kuala Lumpur. Representing the separatist side was Hasan Toib, an exiled figure who called himself a “liaison” officer for the BRN-C. 

NSC chief Paradon Pattanabut, a close ally of ousted premier Thaksin Shinawatra, co-signed the agreement that is billed by some as a spectacular development because it is the first time that a Thai government has given this much legitimacy to the Malay-Muslim separatist movement.

For others, the agreement is a big leap of faith because Hasan Toib doesn’t have much clout within the separatist community, much less command and control over militants on the ground, who have not ceased their campaign of violence in the deep South.

Hasan doesn’t have much to offer except a promise that he will talk to others, such as the BRN-C’s inner circle known as the Dewan Penilian Party (DPP), and ask them to come to the table. So far, the DPP is still giving Hasan and the Thai side the cold shoulder.

As a “liaison” officer, Hasan is stuck in limbo. BRN-C leaders do not take him seriously, but instead toy with him by asking him to raise certain sensitive issues knowing that the Thais do not have the stomach to accommodate them. These issues include the granting of diplomatic immunity to the negotiators and the rest of the BRN-C political wings, so that they can’t be charged with crimes. A well-placed source in the Malaysian government, which is faciliatating the talks, confirmed such demands.

Another issue the BRN-C would like the Thai side to take up is official and public acknowledgement that Patani, which constitutes the three southernmost provinces of Thailand, is the homeland of the Malay-Muslims. In other words, the Malays of Patani are Thailand’s equals, not inferiors, when it comes to their meeting at the table.

One leader from the BRN-Congress, a separate branch within the BRN circle, said that for his group, such official acknowledgement is also necessary because there has to be some understanding from the Thai side that there is a historical root to this conflict. “It’s about our dignity and the reason why we took up arms in the first place,” he said.

Another pending issue, said a BRN-C cadre, is the fact that the separatist movements and the Malaysian government have yet to get over their differences. Kuala Lumpur burned its bridges with exiled separatist leaders when when it deported some of them to the Thai side in the late 1990s and assisted Thailand in obtaining permanent observer status in the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation (OIC). Thailand’s status in the OIC has effectively blocked the long-standing Patani Malay separatist orgnisations from making any real headway in the 57-country organisation.

Desperate for public acceptance, the NSC and the Southern Border Provinces Administrative Centre (SBPAC) chief, Police Colonel Tawee Sodsong, threw names out, publicly and privately, at closed-door meetings with officials, about how certain individuals like Masae Useng and Sapae-ing Basor, would be coming to the March 28 meeting, or sending their representatives. Of course, these two men did not show up.

According to Paradon, among the groups that also came to the March 28 talks were the Patani United Liberation Organisation (Pulo) and Barisan Islam Pembangunan Patani (BIPP), as well as Bersatu.

But the BIPP leaders confirmed to The Nation that they were not invited.

“It is very likely that they went to some friendly exiled individuals who, thirty years ago, were members of BIPP, and invited them,” said a top leader in this particular oganisation.

Moreover, Paradon and the SBPAC didn’t seem to realise that Bersatu, an umbrella organisation for the long-standing separatist groups, is now defunct, having fallen apart about two decades ago. Moreover, he didn’t seem to realise that there are three different people who claim to be the legitimate president of Pulo. So much for Thailand’s PR sound byte.

“The government needs to show more sincerity. If they are going to spin information for public consumption, they should base it on some facts. Bersatu is a thing of the past,” said Artef Sohko, a youth leader from Narathiwat. 

Besides the clumsy public relations exercise, the Thai side has difficulties obtaining friends – people who matter, anyway – to endorse its initiatives or, better yet, join it at the negotiating table.

The Ulema Council, which is made up of traditionalist (Shafi’i jurisprudence) Muslim clerics in the three southernmost Malay-speaking provinces, has rejected an invitation from the government to take part in the peace talks. About 90 per cent of the local Malay-Muslims embrace the Shafi’i school of though. 

Another group that gave the state the cold shoulder is the Saudara, a student/youth movement that works on the promotion of Patani-Malay cultural and historical identity.

Giving the government the cold shoulder is understandable because these groups – who are said to be only one-step removed from the insurgency because their relatives and friends are either locked up on charges of treason or are on the run because they are on the authorities’s “blacklist” – have too much to lose. Besides, say student leaders and clerics, the foundation for the historic February 28 “peace agreement” was based on the political necessities of Bangkok and Kuala Lumpur, not the needs of the Malays of Patani. 

Others who are indifferent to this “peace process” are the militants on the ground, who continue to carry out vicious attacks with even more intensity.

Perhaps the most interesting development is the fact that the ruling Pheu Thai Party has been quietly sending stratgists abroad to make deals with BRN-C elders. But so far these strategists have not been able to make any real headway, as the BRN-C’s DPP members are not in the mood to meet anybody for the time being.

But the fact that Pheu Thai has been sending strategists suggests that it, too, understands that the official track is somethig just for show and that there is only so much Paradon and Hasan can do in their capacity as chief negotiator and “liaison”, respectively.

The problem with Paradon and the SBPAC is that the platform they are working under was desgined to serve Thaksin, who was ousted in a 2006 coup because, among other reasons, of his handling of the deep South.

The BRN-C argues that Bangkok is using the February 28 peace dialogue as a way to clear Thaksin’s name, and that’s why it didn’t matter who Bangkok extended the olive branch to.

Until Bangkok can come to the understanding that there are differences between political interests and the national interest, bringing peace to this highly constested region will be a thing of the future. 

https://www.nationthailand.com/perspective/30203136

DEATH OF MILITANT: In death, another side to insurgent Mahrosu is revealed

By  Don Pathan

BACHO, Narathiwat __ Mahrosu Jantarawadee's parents had to wait for four hours before Narathiwat Hospital would release his body because the commander of the Fourth Army Area and other VIPs wanted to see what the 31-year-old man looked like.


Mahrosu was one of the 16 insurgents killed in Wednesday morning's gunfight between heavily armed militants and members of the Royal Thai Marines in Bacho district. About 50 insurgents had walked into a trap. Officials say they had prior knowledge about the planned attack.

To the authorities, Marohso was a fierce militant, a misguided young man they say was caught up in an armed movement that embraces distorted history and false teaching of Islam. He had more than 10 warrants out for his arrest and had been on the run for the past five years.

But to his family and neighbours, he was a responsible person who cared deeply for his wife and children.

"He made sure that our children and I live comfortably. He built this house from the money he made from buying and selling cattle," said Rusanee, 25, the mother of Mahrosu's six-year-old girl and a 17-month boy.

"He bought our daughter a computer tablet and talked about how he would like to see her grown up as an educated woman, religiously pious and possibly go abroad to study," Rusanee said.

"There was this one time that they wanted him to surrender so bad that they took his younger brother into custody thinking that it would get him to surrender," his mother said.

Marohso's funeral drew a huge crowd and was somewhat emotional. Young and old men queued up in an orderly column to pass his body, wrapped in white sheet. In the background there was a constant chant of "Allah Akbar" (God is great).

In spite of the high number of troops in the region, Mahrosu and others on the wanted list move around somewhat freely, mainly because the local community will not turn them in.

Authorities say the villagers are scared of the insurgents but residents say the militants are part of the community. Like the insurgents, they share some of the same sentiments and historical mistrust of the Thai state.

Che Mah Che Ni, 52, said her son's life changed dramatically after the Tak Bai massacre in 2004 that ended in the death of 86 unarmed demonstrators, most of whom died of suffocation.

"He was one of the guys they stacked one on top another in the back of the military truck," Che Mah said.

The massacre, in which no government officials were punished, has radicalised an entire generation of Malay Muslims in an already highly contested region and become part of the local narrative that feeds into the justification for taking up arms in the separatist movement.

A couple of years after the Tak Bai incident, Mahrosu and Rusanee got married. Rusanee said she knew exactly what she was getting into and understood the risks.

The two tried living and working in Malaysia but returned when they were expecting their first child.

Back in Bacho, Mahrosu picked up from where he had left off.

When asked about his insurrection activities, Rusanee replied: "Everybody knows what this is all about."

Mahrosu visited his wife and children three times this past month and made a phone call to his wife before his outfit raided the marine unit just a few kilometres from his village.

"He said he would be home soon and not to worry," Rusanee said.

Mahrosu did come home as he said, but in a body bag. He was buried as a "shahid", or martyr in Islamic tradition.

"This was something he always wanted," said Rusanee, who is proud of her husband and is grateful for the things he provided. She said she has no regrets.

In a way, Mahrosu's death was a blessing in disguise. At least, said the wife, there is no longer any worry about him being caught alive. "He was certain he would be tortured severely if they had got him alive," she said.

___________________________________________________________________

Group says 'fighter' cell may have been infiltrated

DON PATHAN
THE NATION

Bacho, Narathiwat February 15, 2013

Separatist chief considers existence of mole

A senior operative from the Barisan Revolusi National-Coordinated (BRN-C) said his movement has not ruled out the possibility that there was a mole within the local militant cell responsible for planning and implementing Wednesday morning's failed attack on a Marine base in Narathiwat's Bacho district.

He said BRN-C, a separatist group that surfaced in the 1960s and claims to have the best relations with the militants, said the two groups would go back to the drawing board to rethink their future plans, especially those involving such daring attempts.

The Marine Task Force 32 commander, Marine Lt-Colonel Thamanoon Wanna, said information about the attack was obtained from a map found on the body of Suhaidee Tahir, a suspected insurgent who was killed last Saturday in Narathiwat's Sai Buri district in a gunfight with security forces.

Authorities had accused Suhaidee of killing Thai-Muslim schoolteacher Chonlatee Charoen-chon, who was shot dead in front of his students on January 23. BRN-C denies that Chonlatee was killed by the militants, locally known as juwae, which means "fighter" in the local Malay dialect.

The operative said the juwae had killed three teachers and burned down two schools from mid-November to the first week of January in retaliation for the November 14 assassination of Abdullateh Todir, the imam in Yala's Yaha district, and for the Rangae district teashop massacre on December 11, allegedly carried out by a pro-government death squad.At the insistence of senior BRN-C leaders, the juwae stopped targeting teachers and schools around the first week of January, and Chonlatee was not on their hit list, the operative said. He described Marohso Jantarawadee, one of the leaders of Wednesday's attack, as a dedicated juwae.

"Whatever happens in this area, Marohso always gets blamed," said his mother, Che Mah Che Ni, 52, who went on to blast the authorities for being insensitive for sending four truckloads of security officials to search her and her neighbours' homes on the same day that they killed her son in a gunfight.

The action was in stark contrast to statements by political leaders, who earlier expressed regret over the suffering of the families of the slain insurgents.

The Wednesday morning ambush was billed an operational and intelligence success, although statements from officials contradicted each other. While a senior Marine said information about the plan had came from insurgents killed in the earlier operation, other officials said villagers and/or defecting militants tipped them off.

Two villages over from the camp, Ahama Sohkuning, 25, one of the 16 insurgents shot dead, was buried in a cemetery metres from his parent's backdoor. Like Marohso, he left behind a young wife. She is five months pregnant and their son is just 18 months old.

According to Ahama's parents, he went into hiding shortly after he was released from a 30-day confinement in the Ingkrayuth Camp in Pattani where he said he was tortured. He was finally let go because the Emergency Law permits no more than 30 days in detention without formal charges. The torture inflicted upon him had forced him into the movement, his family said.

Like his fellow cell member, Ahama was also buried as "shahid". For the two families, burying their dead as martyrs was as way of coming to term with their losses.

"People here prefer to see their sons killed fighting government troops then dying of drugs because there is no stigma in being a martyr," said a local aid worker. This is the kind of sentiment the Thai public and the state do not want to hear, much less understand, he said.

Bangkok must do more to get separatists around the table

Don Pathan
The Nation

The Thai Army and the Malay Muslim separatists are trying to outdo one another in public-relations exercises that they claim can influence the course of the conflict and secure the futures of people on the ground.

These include a recently staged surrender of 93 suspected insurgents orchestrated by the leadership of the Fourth Army Area. Retaliation was swift from the insurgents, with a massive car bomb striking Pattani’s Sai Buri district on September 6, killing six people, including four passers-by, and wounding about 30, nearly half of whom were security and forensic officers.

The 93 young men in the staged surrender were finally paraded in front of the media on September 11. But sources in the separatist movement said the vast majority of the suspects, with the exception of half a dozen, were little more than sympathisers who at most had provided logistical support or worked as the “eyes and ears” of the militants. In other words, they weren’t combatants or juwae in the local Malay language.

The episode echoes of an announcement in April 2011 by the then secretary-general of the Southern Border Provinces Administrative Centre (SBPAC), Panu Uthairat, that 1,692 sympathisers had surrendered to the authorities between January and March of that year.

The figure sounds impressive, but people soon forgot about it as violence continued to dominate in the mind of the public.

Sources in the Patani Malay exiled community and in the Thai police said Panu had worked with a former Europe-based separatist leader to carry out the staged surrender. Apparently, the aim was to save Panu’s job, but the result was a flop when his contact couldn’t get anybody from the exiled community to surrender, mainly because they couldn’t see the merit in such a staged event.

Exiled separatist leaders, mainly members of the Barisan Revolusi Nasional-Coordinate (BRN-C) with working relations with juwae, said they were not convinced that the recent surrender, or similar activities over recent years, would have any impact on the course of the insurgency. And as the recent car-bomb attacks and other high-profile incidents suggest, things could get worse before they get better, they said.

But because Thailand is desperate for good news, few were willing to ask tough questions of the Army over the recent mass surrender of the 93. These questions include why these suspects had not been through any legal proceedings, and whether the Sai Buri car bomb was a retaliatory act, as claimed by the exiled separatist leaders.

Just as uncertain is the fate of the 93 men who surrendered, and were then immediately sent home. Local residents said they hoped the military had more sense than to turn these men into double agents after exposing their identities.

Juwae have demonstrated over the years that spies are fair game, and many of these “agents of the Siamese” have wound up killed by gunmen firing from very close range.

The government in Bangkok praised the event as well. But political insiders said the security team of Prime Minister Yingluck Shinawatra’s government was not happy with the surrender because it was preparing a staged surrender of its own. The military had beaten them to it and stolen the show.

Deputy Prime Minister Chalerm Yoobamrung in early August announced that 40 suspected insurgents would be surrendering to authorities. His initiative turned out to be a flop.

But the most significant response from the juwae didn’t require the use of bullets or bombs. For the last three Fridays, shopkeepers in the three southernmost provinces Pattani, Yala, and Narathiwat have been ordered to observe the Muslim Sabbath by closing their shops.

Needless to say, this is a big slap in the face for the authorities, as the closure demonstrated that the people had lost faith in the state security apparatus.

It is not clear whether the juwae can sustain the shutdowns, as a similar initiative six years ago did not last more than two weeks. Moreover, the moral support that the juwae enjoy from the local Malay Muslims could quickly evaporate if the closing of businesses on Friday continues indefinitely.

Officials and security analysts often paint the ongoing conflict as a battle for hearts and minds between the insurgents and government officials. Getting the local residents on your side is the name of the game.

Where the violence with political underpinnings ends, no one seems to know. For the time being, the juwae, as well as their BRN-C backers, appear to be more interested in creating a greater psychological impact with their attacks.

Judging from the reaction from the Yingluck government, the strategy is working. All of a sudden, many people in Bangkok are speaking of the strife in the deep South in political terms. There have also been some massive knee-jerk reactions. Political heavyweight Chalerm Yoobamrung was brought into the line-up and the so-called Pentagon II was established to give the impression of civilian control over policy for the South.

Few journalists have bothered to learn the official name of this new set-up or where it is, much less whether its headquarters actually has five sides.

But after the initial huff-and-puff from the military, a deal will be cut. Deputy Prime Minister Yuthasak Sasiprapha will remain the symbolic head of the Pentagon II while the Army will have day-to-day control over the centre’s operation.

Furthermore, the army has agreed not to sabotage the Pheu Thai Party’s secret peace process with the militants, which mainly involves speaking with the exiled leaders from long-standing Malay-Muslim separatist movements, who may or may not have much influence over the juwae on the ground.

This task has been given to the current SBPAC chief, Thawee Sodsong, one of the government’s most trusted bureaucrats. Before Thawee, the job of talking to the enemies was undertaken by the then deputy secretary-general of the National Security Council, Somkiat Boonchu, who was recently moved to an inactive post. Thaksin Shinawatra’s confidant Lt-General Paradorn Pattanathabutr is now the NSC chief and the agency is expected to play a supporting role in Thawee’s initiative.

At first, Thawee was using former Wadah politicians and local leaders to do his legwork. But after the juwae retaliated with a triple car-bomb attack in Yala and Hat Yai on March 31, Thawee and the team went back to the drawing board. This time he is looking for friendly Muslim clerics to do the legwork.

On the political front, the Pheu Thai Party is also asking the Democrats to be good sports on this. After all, everybody at one time or another has met the leaders of the exiled separatist groups.

The Malaysian government has agreed to help facilitate this peace process but sources in the BRN-C say they are not particularly interested in mediation because they don’t see an honest broker anywhere around, not even in an organisation like the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation, which they say has only paid lip service to the idea of peace for the past three decades but is not willing to employ serious pressure. In fact, the OIC has permitted Thailand Permanent Observer status, thus in effect blocking all the Patani Malay separatist organisations from obtaining the position.

In essence, say exiled leaders, it is up to the Thai side to make the kind of concessions needed to move a peace process forward. They are in the best position to judge Thai sincerity and commitment, not outsiders.

Unfortunately, for the time being, it doesn’t seem that the juwae are in a hurry to talk. And so, says one source, whatever the Thai government is going to offer will have to be very bold and attractive to bring the juwae to the table.

Revenge killings perpetuate violent cycle in the deep South

Don Pathan
The Nation

In mid-2005, less than two years after the current insurgency exploded in the Muslim-majority three southernmost provinces, Thai security officials began to reconnect with exiled separatist leaders. They were hoping that these ageing leaders from various long-standing separatist groups could talk sense into the new generation of militants, locally known as juwae, or "fighter", in the Patani Malay dialect.

One issue the exiled leaders always put on the table whenever they meet the Thai side is the target killings of religious leaders by pro-government death squads. Naturally, the government side points to the collateral damage, as well as target killings of innocent people.

Insurgents insist that spies are fair game. Nevertheless, there have been incidents in which innocent civilians were targeted as part of the tit-for-tat between the two sides. An eye for an eye, so they say.

The problem for observers is that, unlike conflicts in other parts of the world, the insurgents in Thailand's deep South do not surface to make claims. This is also very different from the previous generation of Patani Malay separatists, who began to dwindle in the late 1980s.

Today, the theatre of violence is not just in remote areas but in towns and cities, and no one really knows who's behind the attacks, such as Tuesday's drive-by shooting on a teashop in Narathiwat's Rangae district that killed four and injured four.

For the past nine years, one thing has been clear: the juwae, as part of their coordinated campaign, have continuously turned up the heat, inflicting greater psychological damage with their attacks.

Remember how irritated the authorities were at the very first car bomb near a hotel in Sungai Kolok in October 2009? Today, bombs are hidden on motorbikes, in pickup trucks, cars and under the tarmac, waiting for security personnel to pass by.

Often, these attacks are not as discreet. An attack in Pattani's Mayo district last July, when insurgents in three pickup trucks drove up to soldiers on two motorbikes and began firing at close range, was carried out in front of security cameras. It jolted the entire nation and forced the government into a knee-jerk reaction.

While some attacks are easier to predict, such as an ambush of police or soldiers followed by a brief gunfight, roadside car bombs are not.

As in other sub-national conflicts, security officials are pretty much sitting ducks. But insurgents' choices of targets and tactics, on the other hand, change often. In 2007, more than 100 schools came under arson attack. The following year, less than ten.

According to the website of the Regional Education Office No 12 (www.coad3.org/web/), an entity of the Education Ministry that oversees the southernmost provinces, nine teachers were killed in 2004. But from 2005-2007, 65 teachers were killed. The figure dropped by half from 2008-2011, with an average of ten teachers killed each year. And this year, only two teachers had been killed as of October 3.

All that changed on November 14 when gunmen, believed to be part of a pro-government death squad, killed an imam in Yala's Yaha district. Abdullateh Todir, 49, was a member of the Islamic Committee of Yala, as well as chairman of the Imam Association of Yaha. He is a resident of Tambon Patae, an extremely volatile area in this highly contested region of Thailand.

An exiled leader in the BRN-Coordinate accused the government side of killing the imam. The cleric's relatives and friends agreed. There was an attempt on Abdullateh's life about a year ago but a bullet missed him and took his daughter's life instead. Days later, a team of three Special Forces soldiers were providing security for the imam. The team leader, a lieutenant wearing a sarong and traditional Malay shirt, and accompanied by two armed soldiers in fatigues, rode pillion with Abdullateh up and down the Yaha-Bannang Sata backroads. "We're friends," said the smiling lieutenant, pointing to the imam, as he looked at this correspondent, who visited the cleric the day after the failed attempt on his life.

Abdullateh's neighbourhood, Tambon Patae, is one of the reddest areas classified by authorities as a "red zone." Thai official sources said the Special Forces and civilians may have wanted Abdullateh alive because they saw him as a potential go-between for the authorities wanting to set up a line of communication with the insurgents. But others may have found him guilty by association, said the BRN source.

The killing of Abdullateh set off a wave of retaliation including a motorbike bombing of a Paramilitary Ranger unit in downtown Yala, the bombing of a train bogey carrying security personnel in Narathiwat, arson attacks on a school in Pattani, and attacks against three teachers, two of whom were killed.

As part of the damage control, Thawee Sodsong, head of the Southern Border Provinces Administration Centre (SBPAC), ordered an investigation into the killing of Abullateh.

But that hasn't changed much on the ground. On Tuesday in Narathiwat's Rangae district, a three-man death squad dressed in black jumped out of a pickup truck and fired on a teashop full of local Malay-Muslim villagers. Four, including an 11-month-old baby, were killed and another four were wounded.

Later in the day, in Tambon Panan in Pattani's Mayo district, five gunmen charged into a schoolyard and shot to death the director and a teacher. As in all other incidents, police said the attackers were insurgents.

Frustrations run high, indeed, especially among agencies that are against the use of death squads to even the score. Many believe target killings have created a reverse effect, such as encouraging people to take up arms to avenge the death of their imam or friends or relatives.

Others, like the SBPAC, believe in establishing dialogue with the separatists. The problem is that their dealings with the old guard have not delivered the desired outcome.

"The government fails to end vigilantism allegedly carried out by rogue security units in revenge for insurgent attacks on Buddhist Thai officials and civilians," said Sunai Phasuk, senior researcher at Human Rights Watch.

"Insurgents may claim that abuses by the security forces justify their attacks, but the government should not allow its troops to adopt the same logic. Any attempt to cover up the misconduct of security forces will further escalate a cycle of reprisal violence. And clearly, this is not an environment to build communal trust, necessary for a peace dialogue," Sunai said.

Judging from the violence that has been unleashed over the past four weeks, it may be a long time before the situation returns to normal, whatever normal means.

Talk of reopened border stirs bad memories for army

By Don Pathan
The Nation

A mobile unit from the Foreign Ministry recently visited the northern border to check on a request from the business sector about opening up a couple of border passes linking Thailand with Myanmar's Shan State.

The argument is that the passes would help promote cross-border trade and boost the local economy. It was also reported that the Third Army Area was not exactly thrilled with the idea for fear it could boost drug traffic coming from the Burmese sector of the Golden Triangle.

On the surface, the Third Army Area has reason for concern. A sizeable chunk of the Myanmar sector of the Golden Triangle is controlled by armed ethnic groups and warlords with either peace or cease-fire agreements with the government of Myanmar.

But given the fact that the Thai-Myanmar border is so porous, it wouldn't make sense to send drug caravans through the proposed checkpoints likely to be manned by security officials.

One of the crossings local businessmen would like to reopen is, of course, at San Thon Doo in Chiang Rai. It leads to Muang Yawn, one of the strongholds of the United Wa State Army (UWSA), a 30,000-strong outfit that produces some of the world's finest heroin. The Wa also floods the streets of Bangkok and other major cities around Southeast Asia with millions of methamphetamine tablets.

Perhaps the question to ask is: who would benefit the most from these proposed border crossings should the government give the green light for them to be reopened? In the mid-1990s, local businesses were using the same argument - about the need for more cross-border trade, and so on. They bypassed the Army and went straight to the National Security Council (NSC) who was authorised by local officials to set up a border crossing, but with a limited capacity. But that was all that was needed - just enough so they could transport their trucks, tractors, and other heavy machinery to help build towns in the UWSA-controlled areas.

All the while, Thai soldiers on the border were not at all comfortable with the idea that Thai citizens were having so many business dealings with the Wa, much less the fact that the outfit had set up three regiments along the common border. The Thai Army and the UWSA already had uneasy relations. Soldiers from both sides would play volleyball almost on a daily basis at the Sun Thon Doo crossing but kept their firearms within reach.

The three Wa regiments were in areas once occupied by the Mong Tai Army (MTA), an outfit under the control of the late Shan opium warlord Khun Sa. One of the regiments is today commanded by a notorious warlord, Wei Hsueh-kang, an ethnic Chinese with a US$2 million (Bt62 million) reward from the United States on his head.

The UWSA helped the Myanmar army defeat the MTA in 1997. But instead of returning to their stronghold along the Sino-Myanmar border, the UWSA stayed put and built new towns - with the help of Thai contractors.

The turning point for the Thai-UWSA relationship came one morning in February 1999 when authorities found nine Thai villagers from Chiang Mai's Fang district beaten to death, with their hands tied behind their backs.

Some authorities believed the gruesome murders were the result of a drug-deal gone wrong, while the locals insisted the victims were innocent villagers out on a hunting trip. In the final analysis, all fingers pointed to the newly built Mong Yawn, a southern stronghold of the UWSA, about 20 kilometres from the Thai northern border, inside Shan State.

Local media played up the stories, and the military and police came out in force blasting the UWSA. A curfew was imposed in a number of districts in Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai, and Prime Minister Chuan Leekpai visited San Thon Doo checkpoint. Sealing off the border crossing that leads directly to the UWSA stronghold seemed a logical move.

For the Thai soldiers along the border, the new anti-UWSA policy meant their daily volleyball game with the Wa troops had to come to an end. For the Thai nationals who had business dealings with the Wa, the closure of the Son Thon Doo crossing meant alternative routes would have to be found. The call for a border checkpoint in nearby Baan San Maket in Chiang Rai was quickly shot down by the NSC, the very organisation that approved the opening of the Son Thon Doo crossing just a year ago in earlier 1998.

Thai businessmen turned to the Mae Sai-Tachilek border crossing in Chiang Rai to transport their goods to Mong Yawn, while a number of Thai workers began to use the Kok River to travel back and forth to their work sites. The final move came in August 1999 when the NSC declared the UWSA-controlled area off-limits and ordered all Thai nationals and construction companies to return home.

The UWSA desired an entrance into Thailand more than anything. The drug army wanted to befriend Thailand because it does not want to rely solely on China as its only window to the world. The Wa didn't trust Myanmar in spite of signing a cease-fire agreement with it in 1989. In other words, the Wa wanted to diversify their relationships. Pretty ambitious, indeed, for a drug army many of whom were head-hunters just a generation ago.

But the aftermath of the Fang massacre heightened the hostility between the two sides that would turned into a full blown battle. In March 2002 an advance unit was dispatched to Chiang Mai's Wiang Haeng district as part of routine security details to prepare for the visit of HM the Queen of Thailand, who was due to arrive later in the day.

But out of the blue, a Wa drug caravan slithering through Thai territory was intercepted by HM's security details. A firefight went on for four hours, ending with the death of a Thai soldier. Her Majesty was advised to remain in her palace in Chiang Mai.

For the Thai Army, the clash was not just another border skirmish with another Wa drug caravan. The fact that the Queen could not travel freely in her own kingdom was a deep affront to the soldiers. Again, all fingers pointed to the UWSA. It was generally agreed the pro-Myanmar outfit had to be taught a lesson.

Two months later in a pre-dawn raid in May 20, 2002, Thai infantry units and armoured personnel carriers (APCs) supported by light and heavy artillery launched an all-out offensive to take out positions manned by the UWSA.

The APCs, along with soldiers from Special Forces units, cavalry squadrons and artillery units, had been seen taking up positions along the northern border in Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai and Mae Hong Son provinces in the past weeks to await instruction. It was supposed to be a military training exercise, the Surasri 143. Few had thought from the onset this field exercise would turn out to be one of the biggest military operations since the Vietnam War.

The battles took place well within Myanmar's territory and went on throughout the day. Artillery fire supported the advancing Thai soldiers carrying out search-and-destroy missions against the UWSA's drug labs and military outposts just kilometres inside the Myanmar border. At the Kiw Pha Wok border checkpoint in Chiang Mai's Chiang Dao district, hundreds of Thai villagers fled deeper inside the country and took refuge at a nearby Buddhist temple until it was safe to return to their villages in a day or two.

The following day, Yangon protested "in the strongest possible terms that the unprovoked attack violated our sovereignty and territorial integrity". Then Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra was speechless but the Thai Army insisted Surasri 143 was just a military exercise.

The Myanmar Army held a press conference condemning the Thai military action and made reference to Thailand as "Ayothaya" - to remind the Thai nation of a past that Thailand didn't want to remember. Bilateral ties went into a tailspin and it would be some time before some form of normalcy returned to the border.

Talk of reopened border stirs bad memories for army

Don Pathan
The Nation

A mobile unit from the Foreign Ministry recently visited the northern border to check on a request from the business sector about opening up a couple of border passes linking Thailand with Myanmar's Shan State.

The argument is that the passes would help promote cross-border trade and boost the local economy. It was also reported that the Third Army Area was not exactly thrilled with the idea for fear it could boost drug traffic coming from the Burmese sector of the Golden Triangle.

On the surface, the Third Army Area has reason for concern. A sizeable chunk of the Myanmar sector of the Golden Triangle is controlled by armed ethnic groups and warlords with either peace or cease-fire agreements with the government of Myanmar.

But given the fact that the Thai-Myanmar border is so porous, it wouldn't make sense to send drug caravans through the proposed checkpoints likely to be manned by security officials.

One of the crossings local businessmen would like to reopen is, of course, at San Thon Doo in Chiang Rai. It leads to Muang Yawn, one of the strongholds of the United Wa State Army (UWSA), a 30,000-strong outfit that produces some of the world's finest heroin. The Wa also floods the streets of Bangkok and other major cities around Southeast Asia with millions of methamphetamine tablets.

Perhaps the question to ask is: who would benefit the most from these proposed border crossings should the government give the green light for them to be reopened? In the mid-1990s, local businesses were using the same argument - about the need for more cross-border trade, and so on. They bypassed the Army and went straight to the National Security Council (NSC) who was authorised by local officials to set up a border crossing, but with a limited capacity. But that was all that was needed - just enough so they could transport their trucks, tractors, and other heavy machinery to help build towns in the UWSA-controlled areas.

All the while, Thai soldiers on the border were not at all comfortable with the idea that Thai citizens were having so many business dealings with the Wa, much less the fact that the outfit had set up three regiments along the common border. The Thai Army and the UWSA already had uneasy relations. Soldiers from both sides would play volleyball almost on a daily basis at the Sun Thon Doo crossing but kept their firearms within reach.

The three Wa regiments were in areas once occupied by the Mong Tai Army (MTA), an outfit under the control of the late Shan opium warlord Khun Sa. One of the regiments is today commanded by a notorious warlord, Wei Hsueh-kang, an ethnic Chinese with a US$2 million (Bt62 million) reward from the United States on his head.

The UWSA helped the Myanmar army defeat the MTA in 1997. But instead of returning to their stronghold along the Sino-Myanmar border, the UWSA stayed put and built new towns - with the help of Thai contractors.

The turning point for the Thai-UWSA relationship came one morning in February 1999 when authorities found nine Thai villagers from Chiang Mai's Fang district beaten to death, with their hands tied behind their backs.

Some authorities believed the gruesome murders were the result of a drug-deal gone wrong, while the locals insisted the victims were innocent villagers out on a hunting trip. In the final analysis, all fingers pointed to the newly built Mong Yawn, a southern stronghold of the UWSA, about 20 kilometres from the Thai northern border, inside Shan State.

Local media played up the stories, and the military and police came out in force blasting the UWSA. A curfew was imposed in a number of districts in Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai, and Prime Minister Chuan Leekpai visited San Thon Doo checkpoint. Sealing off the border crossing that leads directly to the UWSA stronghold seemed a logical move.

For the Thai soldiers along the border, the new anti-UWSA policy meant their daily volleyball game with the Wa troops had to come to an end. For the Thai nationals who had business dealings with the Wa, the closure of the Son Thon Doo crossing meant alternative routes would have to be found. The call for a border checkpoint in nearby Baan San Maket in Chiang Rai was quickly shot down by the NSC, the very organisation that approved the opening of the Son Thon Doo crossing just a year ago in earlier 1998.

Thai businessmen turned to the Mae Sai-Tachilek border crossing in Chiang Rai to transport their goods to Mong Yawn, while a number of Thai workers began to use the Kok River to travel back and forth to their work sites. The final move came in August 1999 when the NSC declared the UWSA-controlled area off-limits and ordered all Thai nationals and construction companies to return home.

The UWSA desired an entrance into Thailand more than anything. The drug army wanted to befriend Thailand because it does not want to rely solely on China as its only window to the world. The Wa didn't trust Myanmar in spite of signing a cease-fire agreement with it in 1989. In other words, the Wa wanted to diversify their relationships. Pretty ambitious, indeed, for a drug army many of whom were head-hunters just a generation ago.

But the aftermath of the Fang massacre heightened the hostility between the two sides that would turned into a full blown battle. In March 2002 an advance unit was dispatched to Chiang Mai's Wiang Haeng district as part of routine security details to prepare for the visit of HM the Queen of Thailand, who was due to arrive later in the day.

But out of the blue, a Wa drug caravan slithering through Thai territory was intercepted by HM's security details. A firefight went on for four hours, ending with the death of a Thai soldier. Her Majesty was advised to remain in her palace in Chiang Mai.

For the Thai Army, the clash was not just another border skirmish with another Wa drug caravan. The fact that the Queen could not travel freely in her own kingdom was a deep affront to the soldiers. Again, all fingers pointed to the UWSA. It was generally agreed the pro-Myanmar outfit had to be taught a lesson.

Two months later in a pre-dawn raid in May 20, 2002, Thai infantry units and armoured personnel carriers (APCs) supported by light and heavy artillery launched an all-out offensive to take out positions manned by the UWSA.

The APCs, along with soldiers from Special Forces units, cavalry squadrons and artillery units, had been seen taking up positions along the northern border in Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai and Mae Hong Son provinces in the past weeks to await instruction. It was supposed to be a military training exercise, the Surasri 143. Few had thought from the onset this field exercise would turn out to be one of the biggest military operations since the Vietnam War.

The battles took place well within Myanmar's territory and went on throughout the day. Artillery fire supported the advancing Thai soldiers carrying out search-and-destroy missions against the UWSA's drug labs and military outposts just kilometres inside the Myanmar border. At the Kiw Pha Wok border checkpoint in Chiang Mai's Chiang Dao district, hundreds of Thai villagers fled deeper inside the country and took refuge at a nearby Buddhist temple until it was safe to return to their villages in a day or two.

The following day, Yangon protested "in the strongest possible terms that the unprovoked attack violated our sovereignty and territorial integrity". Then Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra was speechless but the Thai Army insisted Surasri 143 was just a military exercise.

The Myanmar Army held a press conference condemning the Thai military action and made reference to Thailand as "Ayothaya" - to remind the Thai nation of a past that Thailand didn't want to remember. Bilateral ties went into a tailspin and it would be some time before some form of normalcy returned to the border.

Talk of reopened border stirs bad memories for army

Don Pathan
The Nation

A mobile unit from the Foreign Ministry recently visited the northern border to check on a request from the business sector about opening up a couple of border passes linking Thailand with Myanmar's Shan State.

The argument is that the passes would help promote cross-border trade and boost the local economy. It was also reported that the Third Army Area was not exactly thrilled with the idea for fear it could boost drug traffic coming from the Burmese sector of the Golden Triangle.

Wa opium farmers on the outskirts of Panghsang (Pathan-2003)

On the surface, the Third Army Area has reason for concern. A sizeable chunk of the Myanmar sector of the Golden Triangle is controlled by armed ethnic groups and warlords with either peace or cease-fire agreements with the government of Myanmar.

But given the fact that the Thai-Myanmar border is so porous, it wouldn’t make sense to send drug caravans through the proposed checkpoints likely to be manned by security officials.

One of the crossings local businessmen would like to reopen is, of course, at San Thon Doo in Chiang Rai. It leads to Muang Yawn, one of the strongholds of the United Wa State Army (UWSA), a 30,000-strong outfit that produces some of the world’s finest heroin. The Wa also floods the streets of Bangkok and other major cities around Southeast Asia with millions of methamphetamine tablets.

Perhaps the question to ask is: who would benefit the most from these proposed border crossings should the government give the green light for them to be reopened? In the mid-1990s, local businesses were using the same argument – about the need for more cross-border trade, and so on. They bypassed the Army and went straight to the National Security Council (NSC) who was authorised by local officials to set up a border crossing but with a limited capacity. But that was all that was needed – just enough so they could transport their trucks, tractors, and other heavy machinery to help build towns in the UWSA-controlled areas.

All the while, Thai soldiers on the border were not at all comfortable with the idea that Thai citizens were having so many business dealings with the Wa, much less the fact that the outfit had set up three regiments along the common border. The Thai Army and the UWSA already had uneasy relations. Soldiers from both sides would play volleyball almost on a daily basis at the Sun Thon Doo crossing but kept their firearms within reach.

The three Wa regiments were in areas once occupied by the Mong Tai Army (MTA), an outfit under the control of the late Shan opium warlord Khun Sa. One of the regiments is today commanded by a notorious warlord, Wei Hsueh-kang, an ethnic Chinese with a US$2 million (Bt62 million) reward from the United States on his head.

The UWSA helped the Myanmar army defeat the MTA in 1997. But instead of returning to their stronghold along the Sino-Myanmar border, the UWSA stayed put and built new towns – with the help of Thai contractors.

The turning point for the Thai-UWSA relationship came one morning in February 1999 when authorities found nine Thai villagers from Chiang Mai’s Fang district beaten to death, with their hands tied behind their backs.

Some authorities believed the gruesome murders were the result of a drug deal gone wrong, while the locals insisted the victims were innocent villagers out on a hunting trip. In the final analysis, all fingers pointed to the newly built Mong Yawn, a southern stronghold of the UWSA, about 20 kilometres from the Thai northern border, inside Shan State.

Local media played up the stories, and the military and police came out in force blasting the UWSA. A curfew was imposed in a number of districts in Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai, and Prime Minister Chuan Leekpai visited San Thon Doo checkpoint. Sealing off the border crossing that leads directly to the UWSA stronghold seemed a logical move.

For the Thai soldiers along the border, the new anti-UWSA policy meant their daily volleyball game with the Wa troops had to come to an end. For the Thai nationals who had business dealings with the Wa, the closure of the Son Thon Doo crossing meant alternative routes would have to be found. The call for a border checkpoint in nearby Baan San Maket in Chiang Rai was quickly shot down by the NSC, the very organisation that approved the opening of the Son Thon Doo crossing just a year ago in earlier 1998. 

Thai businessmen turned to the Mae Sai-Tachilek border crossing in Chiang Rai to transport their goods to Mong Yawn, while a number of Thai workers began to use the Kok River to travel back and forth to their work sites. The final move came in August 1999 when the NSC declared the UWSA-controlled area off-limits and ordered all Thai nationals and construction companies to return home.

The UWSA desired an entrance into Thailand more than anything. The drug army wanted to befriend Thailand because it does not want to rely solely on China as its only window to the world. The Wa didn’t trust Myanmar in spite of signing a cease-fire agreement with it in 1989. In other words, the Wa wanted to diversify their relationships. Pretty ambitious, indeed, for a drug army many of whom were head-hunters just a generation ago.

But the aftermath of the Fang massacre heightened the hostility between the two sides that would turned into a full blown battle. In March 2002 an advance unit was dispatched to Chiang Mai’s Wiang Haeng district as part of routine security details to prepare for the visit of HM the Queen of Thailand, who was due to arrive later in the day.

But out of the blue, a Wa drug caravan slithering through Thai territory was intercepted by HM’s security details. A firefight went on for four hours, ending with the death of a Thai soldier. Her Majesty was advised to remain in her palace in Chiang Mai.

For the Thai Army, the clash was not just another border skirmish with another Wa drug caravan. The fact that the Queen could not travel freely in her own kingdom was a deep affront to the soldiers. Again, all fingers pointed to the UWSA. It was generally agreed the pro-Myanmar outfit had to be taught a lesson.

Two months later in a pre-dawn raid in May 20, 2002, Thai infantry units and armoured personnel carriers (APCs) supported by light and heavy artillery launched an all-out offensive to take out positions manned by the UWSA.

The APCs, along with soldiers from Special Forces units, cavalry squadrons and artillery units, had been seen taking up positions along the northern border in Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai and Mae Hong Son provinces in the past weeks to await instruction. It was supposed to be a military training exercise, the Surasri 143. Few had thought from the onset this field exercise would turn out to be one of the biggest military operations since the Vietnam War.

The battles took place well within Myanmar’s territory and went on throughout the day. Artillery fire supported the advancing Thai soldiers carrying out search-and-destroy missions against the UWSA’s drug labs and military outposts just kilometres inside the Myanmar border. At the Kiw Pha Wok border checkpoint in Chiang Mai’s Chiang Dao district, hundreds of Thai villagers fled deeper inside the country and took refuge at a nearby Buddhist temple until it was safe to return to their villages in a day or two.

The following day, Yangon protested “in the strongest possible terms that the unprovoked attack violated our sovereignty and territorial integrity”. Then Thai Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra was speechless but the Thai Army insisted Surasri 143 was just a military exercise.

The Myanmar Army held a press conference condemning the Thai military action and made reference to Thailand as “Ayothaya” – to remind the Thai nation of a past that Thailand didn’t want to remember. Bilateral ties went into a tailspin and it would be some time before some form of normalcy returned to the border.