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The following articles have been collected through the justpeace mailing list and have been posted in this section to encourage further reflection and discussion. More articles can be found in the archive.
'You Can't Wash Your Hands When They're Covered in Blood'
By Hart Viges, The Independent UK
Saturday 24 September 2005
My name is Hart Viges. September 11 happened. Next day I was in the recruiting office. I thought that was the way I could make a difference in the world for the better.
So I went to infantry school and jump school and I arrived with my unit of the 82nd Airborne Division. I was deployed to Kuwait in February 2003. We drove into Iraq because Third Infantry Division was ahead of schedule, and so I didn't need to jump into Baghdad airport.
As we drove into Samawa to secure their supplies my mortar platoon dropped numerous rounds on this town. I watched Kiowa attack helicopters fire Hellfire missile after Hellfire missile. I saw a C130 Spectre gunship ... it will level a town. It had belt-fed artillery rounds pounding with these super-Gatling guns.
I don't know how many innocents I killed with my mortar rounds. I have my imagination to pick at for that one. But I clearly remember the call-out over the radio saying "Green light on all taxi-cabs. The enemy is using them for transportation".
One of our snipers called back on the radio saying "Excuse me but did I hear that order correctly? Green light on all taxi cabs?" "Roger that soldier. You'd better start buckling up." All of a sudden the city just blew up. Didn't matter if there was an innocent in the taxi-cab - we laid a mortar round on it, snipers opened up.
Next was Fallujah. We went in without a shot. But Charlie Company decided they were going to take over a school for the area of operations. Protesters would come saying "Please get out of our school. Our children need this school. We need education".
They turned them down. They came back, about 40 to 50 people. Some have the bright idea of shooting AK-47s up in the air. Well a couple of rounds fell into the school ... They laid waste to that group of people.
Then we went to Baghdad. And I had days that I don't want to remember. I try to forget. Days where we'd take contractors out to a water treatment plant outside of Baghdad. We'd catched word that this is a kind of a scary place but when I arrive there's grass and palm trees, a river. It's the first beautiful place that seemed untouched by the war in Iraq. As we leave, RPGs come flying at us. Two men with RPGs ran up in front of us from across the road.
"Drop your weapons". "Irmie salahak." They're grabbing on to women and kids so [we] don't fire. I can't take any more and swing my [gun] over. My sight's on his chest, my finger's on the trigger. And I'm trained to kill but this is no bogey man, this is no enemy. This is a human being. With the same fears and doubts and worries. The same messed-up situation.
I don't pull the trigger this time ... it throws me off. It's like they didn't tell me about this emotional attachment to killing. They tried to numb me, they tried to strip my humanity. They tried to tell me that's not a human being - that's a soft target.
So now, my imagination is running ... What if he pulled his trigger? How many American soldiers or Iraqi police, how many families destroyed because I didn't pull my trigger. After we leave this little village we get attack helicopters, Apaches, two Bradley fighting vehicles, and we go back. And we start asking questions. Where are they? Eventually they lead us to this hut where this family is living, and myself and [another soldier] started searching for AK-47s, for explosives, for RPGs, you know ... evidence. And all I can find is a tiny little pistol, probably to scare off thieves.
Well because of that pistol we took their two young men ... Their mother is at my feet trying to kiss my feet like I deserve my feet to be kissed. Screaming, pleading. I don't need to speak Arabic to know love and concern and fear. I had my attack helicopter behind me, my Bradley fighting vehicle, my armour, my M4 [semi-automatic] with laser sight. I'm an 82nd Airborne killer. But I was powerless ... to ease this woman's pain.
After I came home I applied for conscientious objector [status]. I'm a Christian, what was I doing holding a gun to another human being? Love thy neighbour. Pray for those who persecute you, don't shoot them.
I get my conscientious objector packet approved. I'm free. It's all gone now, right? No! I still swerve at trash bags ... fireworks ... I can't express anything. All my relationships are falling apart because they can't fucking understand me. How do they know the pain I've gone through or the sights I've seen? The innocence gone, stripped, dead? I couldn't stand the pain. People were leaving me.
I couldn't cut my wrists. So I called the police. They come stomping through my door. I have my knife in my hand. "Shoot me." All of a sudden I was the man with the RPG, with all the guns pointed at him, thinking "Yes, we can solve the world's problems by killing each other". How insane is that? Lucky I lived through that episode. See, you can't wash your hands when they're covered in blood. The wounds carry on. This is what war does to your soul, to your humanity, to your family.
::: posted by Tricia : 10/18/2005
Aceh rebels start giving up arms in second stage
scmp - Saturday, October 15, 2005
REUTERS in Jakarta
Former rebels in Indonesia's Aceh province yesterday handed over their weapons to foreign monitors as the second stage of arms decommissioning began under a landmark truce aimed at ending one of Asia's longest conflicts.
Members of the Free Aceh Movement (GAM) plan to lay down more than 100 weapons, including grenade launchers and semi-automatic rifles, at several locations in North Aceh regency, where foreign monitors are ready to destroy them with heavy-duty automatic saws.
The first round of decommissioning of GAM weapons in September exceeded the target, yielding 240 arms, while Indonesia pulled out 1,500 policemen and about 6,500 soldiers.
Under the Finnish-mediated peace agreement, GAM needs to surrender 840 weapons to the peace observers by the year-end.
Indonesia, which had more than 30,000 soldiers and 15,000 policemen in Aceh before the truce, is required to trim its Aceh forces to no more than 14,700 soldiers and 9,100 police.
In the second stage of decommissioning, which may take four days, GAM must surrender about 210 weapons.
"According to the truce, we have to lay down 25 per cent ... 210 weapons. Around 120 weapons will be handed over in several spots in North Aceh today. We are preparing other locations for the coming days," GAM military spokesman Sofyan Dawood said.
Aceh Monitoring Mission chief Pieter Feith has said that in return, Indonesia plans to withdraw 1,300 policemen and 6,500 soldiers by October 24. Among those going would be units from the army's feared Kopassus special forces, he said.
The 226-strong unarmed monitoring mission comprising European and Southeast Asian monitors has the task of ensuring parties stick to today's peace agreement signed in Helsinki.
::: posted by cbs : 10/16/2005
Islamic schools a force for good, says principal
scmp - Saturday, October 1, 2005
AGENCE FRANCE-PRESSE in Lam Mai
The Phattana Islam Wittaya school, funded by the community and Harrods owner Mohammed al-Fayed, seems a far cry from the militant training base that critics in Bangkok accuse Islamic schools of being.
One staffer at the school in Yala province's Lam Mai village wears a Fulham Football Club shirt, while behind him looms a school building bearing the name of the club's owner, Mr Fayed. Inside, principal Mayudin Samae, who has been in charge for 20 years, wears blue trousers and checked shirt, sporting a neat grey goatee beard.
Mr Fayed has helped build offices and classrooms, as well as several single-sex dormitories, while the Thai government also provides money because it is registered with Bangkok, Mr Samae says.
Wichai Chaichitwanitchakul, an MP with the ruling Thai Rak Thai party, has called for boarding schools, known locally as pondoks, to be closed, claiming they breed militants and don't teach students Thai.
"The men who talk like that, they don't know the truth," Mr Samae says. "Pondoks are good for the community as they teach students to be good people."
Schools are on the front line of the conflict that has claimed more than 950 lives in the Muslim-majority provinces of Thailand's south since January last year.
Shadowy groups of militants often attack public schools, seen as a symbol of Bangkok's attempts to impose Thai culture on a region that was an independent sultanate until a century ago.
But politicians attack Islamic schools as terrorist training grounds and want them closed.
Education Minister Chaturon Chaisang says the government has no plans to cave in to such demands.
Students at Mr Samae's school learn four languages: Arabic during morning prayers and studying the Koran; the local Yawi dialect for history; Thai for mathematics, sciences and social studies; and English as a foreign language.
The school gives its 1,450 students internet access and Mr Samae says he wants to buy more computers for English instruction.
The students also have had to learn to face the violence.
Two teachers, both Muslims, have been shot dead on their way to work since May, Mr Samae says. Like many of the dead, police believe they were seemingly random victims of drive-by shootings by militants out to sow fear.
"We'll keep going ... it's our duty to teach the students," Mr Samae says.
Asked if any students were scared, the softly spoken principal replied: "They get used to it."
::: posted by cbs : 10/02/2005
Boarding schools teach good not evil, say Thailand’s southern Muslims
scmp - Friday, September 30, 2005
AGENCE FRANCE-PRESSE in Lam Mai
Updated at 1.08pm:
Phattana Islam Wittaya school, funded by the community and Harrod’s owner Mohamed al-Fayed, seems a far cry from the militant training base that critics in Bangkok accuse Islamic schools of being.
One staffer at the school in Yala province’s Lam Mai village wears a Fulham Football Club shirt, while behind him looms a school building bearing name of the club’s owner, al-Fayed.
Inside, principal Mayudin Samae, in charge of this 45-year-old school for 20 years, wears blue trousers and checked shirt, sporting trimmed salt and pepper hair and a neat grey goatee beard.
Mr Al-Fayed has helped build offices and classrooms, as well as several single-sex dormitories, while the Thai government also provides money because it is registered with Bangkok, Mr Samae says.
Wichai Chaichitwanitchakul, a parliamentarian with the ruling Thai Rak Thai party, has repeatedly called for boarding schools, or known locally as pondoks or ponohs, to be shut down, claiming they breed militants and griping that students don’t learn Thai.
“The men who talk like that, they don’t know the truth, they rely on second-hand information,” Mr Samae says.
“Pondoks are good for the community as they teach students to be good people.”
Schools are on the frontline of the conflict that has claimed more than 950 lives in the Muslim-majority provinces of Thailand’s south since January 2004.
Teachers are frequent targets of the near-daily shootings, bombings and arson attacks in the region, but also are in the middle of a political tug-of-war.
Shadowy groups of militants often attack public schools, seen as a symbol of Bangkok’s attempts to impose Thai culture on a region that was an independent sultanate until a century ago.
But politicians like Mr Wichai attack Islamic schools as terrorist training grounds and want them closed.
Education Minister Chaturon Chaisang has resisted such calls, saying the government had no plan to shut the schools.
Students at Mr Samae’s school learn four languages: Arabic during morning prayers and studying the Koran; the local Yawi dialect for history; Thai for mathematics, sciences and social studies; and English as a foreign language.
The school gives its 1,450 students — 800 of them boys — internet access, and Mr Samae says he wants to buy more computers and headsets for English instruction.
The students have also had to learn to face the violence.
Two teachers, both Muslims, have been shot dead on their way to work since May, Mr Samae says. Like many of the dead, police believe they were seemingly random victims of drive-by shootings by militants out to sew fear in the population.
“We’ll keep going ... it’s our duty to teach the students,” Mr Samae says.
Asked if any students were scared, the softly-spoken principal replied: ”They get used to it.”
Unlike at public schools in the region, teachers here have no armed escorts to and from class, he says.
“I have told all of my teachers they have to be patient in order to make good deeds, because when you make good deeds, it makes you happy,” Mr Samae says.
For the 285 students at Ban Taseh school in Yala town, about 10 kilometre away, the day starts at 4am for prayers, followed by reading the Koran and breakfast at 7am.
Largely from Yala, the students, including 185 girls, are aged from 14 to 21 and all board in single-sex dormitories.
Aside from religious studies, boys learn electronics and mechanics, while girls have sewing classes. Students also play badminton, football and volleyball.
Students live in dormitories made of corrugated iron. “I love you” is spray painted in English outside one boy’s dorm.
“I’m happy to learn here, there’s lot of activities,” says 16-year-old Nuriham Borthor, sitting with her friends under a pomelo fruit tree.
“I’d like to know more about my religion.”
Hama Fula has run the school since it opened more than 50 years ago. He sits on a brown patterned carpet, behind him a large coloured poster photograph of a beach paradise of palm trees and clear blue sea.
Outside, a military helicopter flies low overhead, puncturing the silence.
“Sometimes they interrupt, so when they come, we stop classes,” Hama says.
He shows seven Thai language text books on the carpet, and says his school receives government funding that replaced money raised from the community.
“This school is registered, it’s legal, so we use the Thai curriculum,” Hama says.
“People who do wrong, it’s individuals who do it, not stereotypes of Muslims and Islam,” he says, explaining why he doesn’t worry about his school being closed.
Beneath towering coconut palms in neighbouring Pattani province is the highest profile Islamic school shut down by the government.
The closure of Jihadi Wittaya Islamic school drew international attention when Thailand’s government claimed it had found ammunition, evidence of military training, secret documents concerning an independent Pattani state, and Al-Qaeda training CDs.
The family who runs the school has denied the charges.
A relative of the school’s former manager says soldiers still pass on patrol by the now empty school.
“Grandmother’s upset when she sees the soldiers, because she’s reminded of the bad things that happened, the soldiers coming here, shouting,” the young woman says from the doorway of her home.
The students left quickly after the soldiers came. In one dormitory, empty clothes hangers hang from naked light bulb wiring. On the floor lies raggedy old bedding — polyester quilts, blankets and pillows.
“It’s really quiet now the children are gone,” the young woman says.
::: posted by cbs : 10/01/2005
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