Roiling conflict between the region’s native Buddhists and a
stateless Muslim ethnicity, the Rohingya, has brought on mob killings,
torched villages, mass displacement and even bow-and-arrow wounds.
The remote state is cursed with poor public services. With tens of
thousands now living in makeshift camps, malaria and tuberculosis
outbreaks are worsening. Yet the international aid groups who flock
towards such disaster zones — Doctors Without Borders and the United
Nations among them — are encountering furious resistance from bands of
local Buddhists.
Foreign aid to the Rohingya, who’ve reportedly suffered the brunt of
the violence, is interpreted by some as lending aid and comfort to
Islamic terrorists.
“In their view, even medical attention constitutes a kind of
support,” said Joe Belliveau, operations manager with Doctors Without
Borders, the Switzerland-based group also known as Medecins Sans
Frontieres.
A wave of death threats — conveyed face-to-face, in pamphlets and on
Facebook — has convinced Doctors Without Borders to temporarily shrink
its force of 300 or so down to a few dozen staffers. “Luckily, nobody
has been the object of a direct attack. The threats are vague but strong
enough to scare our staff ... and they tend to very clear in saying,
‘Stop what you’re doing.’”
The upshot: providing foreign aid to the estimated 28,000 people displaced
by recent mob raids, perpetrated by both Muslims and Buddhists, is now
deemed too hazardous in the region’s most desperate zones. The
international groups that remain in force, such as the United Nations
High Commissioner of Refugees office, or UNHCR, must travel with armed
police or soldiers.
“It’s tense,” said Vivian Tan, a UNHCR information officer. “There
are anti-UN, anti-NGO sentiments on the ground. For us to go anywhere,
to assess the situation or provide relief, we need to be escorted by the
authorities, police or soldiers. Staff are concerned for their safety,
quite rightly.”
Among certain factions of Rakhine Buddhists, hatred for the Rohingya
runs so hot that almost any overture of sympathy towards the displaced
Muslims causes hatred to spill over onto the sympathizer. In their eyes,
the Rohingya are invaders run amok from neighboring Bangladesh. They
are commonly described by their detractors as “black” or “cruel” or
“devilish.”
Myanmar denies citizenship to the estimated 800,000 Rohingya living
within its borders. The UN has scoffed at Myanmar President Thein Sein’s
contention that they should be moved to UN camps in a “third country.”
Offering citizenship to the Rohingya who’ve lived in Myanmar for
generations would be a politically unpopular decision by the government.
Few expect such a move: Thein Sein affirmed via his website that it
would be “impossible to accept the illegally entered Rohingya, who are
not our ethnicity.”
Contrast this sentiment to that of the UN, which asserts that the
Rohingya are among the world’s most persecuted minorities. Anti-Rohingya
groups in two major Myanmar cities, Mandalay and Yangon, have marched
in large, monk-led street rallies condemning UN intervention. There are
also smaller protests against international interference, such as the
one in the Rakhine State capital, Sittwe, against a new Doctors Without
Borders clinic. That rally, staged several weeks ago, halted the opening
of a health facility in a largely Buddhist neighborhood.
“We’d been in intense discussions with the local community and had a
high degree of buy in,” Belliveau said. “Then, at the last minute, a
small group demonstrated and threatened our staff ... This event was
very confusing. We didn’t realize [the extent] to which there are small
groups determined to stop us from operating.”
A UN special rapporteur who has toured the coastal destruction, Tomas
Ojea Quintana, has become the anti-Rohingya set’s main lightning rod
after stating publicly that Rohingya suffer “long-standing endemic
discrimination,” and that those driven from their homes are
overwhelmingly Rohingya, not local Buddhists.
These groups are perhaps further convinced of UN biases when Rohingya
political wings, such as the Arakan Rohingya National Organization,
repeatedly issue requests for multi-national forces to descend on
Myanmar and defend their homes. A late October statement urges the UN to
“intervene in the matter on grounds of humanitarianism for the purpose
of preventing further death, killing, rape and destruction of the
Muslims ... and to urgently send UN peace-keeping forces.”
Evidence and eyewitness accounts suggest that, in the tit-for-tat
arson sprees waged between Buddhists and Rohingya Muslims, the Rohingya
side has seen far more of its shanties and shops burned to ash. Imagery
analyzed and published by Human Rights Watch shows a predominately
Muslim quarter of Kyauk Pyu, a seaside city in Rakhine, turned to grey
cinders.
“We have seen all types of groups, including the Rakhine, who’ve been
displaced,” Belliveau said. “The majority are Rohingya Muslims. They
camp wherever they can. It’s not organized. Some are on beaches, or the
high points in rice paddies or they’re hosted by other communities. They
don’t have enough materials to build makeshift shelters and they need
food and water.”
More from GlobalPost: It's official, Obama's flying to Myanmar
Living on the run, in camps thrown together in muddy fields, invites a
variety of potentially fatal medical conditions, he said. Doctors
Without Borders crews have contended with malnourished kids, malaria
scares and pregnant women in dire conditions. “There was one woman who
described how, on the boat they were living on, her pregnant sister
hemorrhaged,” he said. “There was no one to provide medical assistance.
They lost her.”
“We’ve also seen burn victims,” he said, “as well as wounds from arrows, daggers and, occasionally, gunshots.”
Teams dispatched by the UN focus on hauling in food, blankets, water
and health services, Tan said, but they’re largely limited to
government-sanctioned camps. “We’re not really authorized to work in
unofficial sites,” she said.
After the violence kicked off in June, the local courts locked up
three UN workers, all Myanmar nationals, on charges ranging from
inciting violence to arson. The government has since softened up, Tan
said, and even sought help from the UN in managing relief camps.
“When we ask for access, we get it,” she said. “They’re understaffed
and have limited capacity ... so we’re trying to work with the
authorities to find some balance and convince everyone we’re not there
to just help one community.”
“It’s always tricky,” Tan said. “If we’re too visible, if we stick our necks out too much, you never know.”
Source: here
No comments:
Post a Comment