The hidden genocide of Rohingyas in Myanmar: raising voices from villages and camps in the Rakhine State.

This is a piece I have originally published in Italian for Eastonline, an Italian magazine of global news and geopolitics. While it does not talk about risk or disaster issues, we perfectly know ethnic and religious discrimination dramatically increases risk vulnerability, together with the marginalization in social, economic, and cultural life of a country. Rohingyas are among the most vulnerable people in the world, and we should continue to talk about them. All pictures and interviews are mine (December 2016).

Over one million of Rohingyas, a Burmese Muslim group living since centuries in Myanmar, suffer from 1948 (year of independence from the British crown) of discrimination and political delegitimization. Since decades, all the alternated governments -including that of the criticized Aung San Suu Kyi, a former Nobel Prize for Peace- shouldered by the armed forces and Buddhist monks, have considered Rohingyas as illegal Bengali immigrants from Bangladesh. These governments have perpetrated a "hidden genocide" through the systematic violation of citizenship and mobility rights, mass killings, arbitrary arrests, rapes, destruction and confiscation of villages. The reasons are not exclusively religious, also residing in the grabbing of Rohingyas’land to promote economic and industrial revitalization of the country, and in the need of a militarily control on the Rakhine State, in which the largest part of Rohingyas live.

After the assaults and violence by the Buddhist population in 2012, the Rohingyas fled their villages. Currently, 120,000Rohingyas live in 36 camps IDPs (Internally Displaced Persons), while 280,000 still live into villages. Rohingyas experience lack of food, water, and medical assistance. Several national and international NGOs provide humanitarian assistance to IDPs camps and villages around Sittwe (the capital of Rakhine), such as the Sittwe Program and Development Organization, who delivers food to 900 families (about 4,000 people) on behalf of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees. Arkar, 24, from Yangon, is the coordinator of this NGO and brings me in the area where Rohingyas are confined, located 20-minutes driving far from Sittwe (according to request by the NGO, the names of people and   of the NGO have been changed, while the names of villages have been omitted).

A rusty bar, always raised and patrolled by a visibly annoyed military, separates the Rohingya from the Burmese "normality". Beyond the bar, the main road continues straightforward. Military areas alternate to the woodland, separated from peeling walls. Some people are busy in repairing and painting the walls, others in paving the road mixing lime and placing stones. These are temporary jobs at cheap price, very slowly performed by men and women of all ages (but also children) that - Arkar says- are both Burmese and Rohingya. Together with the small trade in the villages, these jobs are among the few opportunities for these two groups to interact. From the main road, trails unpaved or covered by cobblestones reach after kilometers the villages and IDP camps, from which the Rohingya cannot get out. Those who live in the villages may move from there for visiting someone or buy something, but they are not allowed to walk on the main road. To get out from the villages they need to rent scooter-taxis and vans, often with unsustainable costs. Those living in the camps face an even more difficult condition: to enter (and exit) they must pass through two military checkpoints. At the first one, they must deliver a bribe.

Kyaw is 23 years old. The village where he lived with his parents, who ran a small shop of medicines, was destroyed in 2012. They had to escape from their place and came to the village where we meet. Recovered for days in the village where they received water and rice and sheltered at the side of a house, they took a while to rebuild a new, albeit poor, house. As everyone, Kyaw does not have a job, but since few months he is the supervisor of the food deliver by the Arkar’s NGO in the area. Kyaw has the bright face of those who would rock the world but the melancholic and innocent eyes of those who cannot because they are forced to have nothing. His story is similar to many. As Soe, 46, who until 2012 was a milk producer and owned a house with an adjoining pasture for his cattle. The Burmese government confiscated the house and the land, accusing him of not being the owner, despite all the submitted documentation attested the contrary. Being forced to sell animals, Soe found recovery in the IDP camp. At his best of knowledge, on his land there are now some government buildings.

Houses are made of bamboo, wood and makeshift materials. In the camps, most of these houses were built by NGOs. Soils are predominantly sandy and dry and do not allow productive or profitable agriculture. Rickety geese and chickens, few scrawny cows or goats rummage in the dust. In some villages, people sell meat and vegetables, or there are some poor refreshment facilities; customers are those few people who can afford it, or some military patrolling around. There is no electricity. There is no water, which is supplied by NGOs in plastic containers or rudimentary wells. In some camps, some bathrooms have been arranged: a row of wooden cubbyholes with a hole in the center. Numbered, one for each family.

The Arkar’s NGO also provides basic medical care, through a mobile clinic and a space for supporting pregnant women, but it does not cover overnight. To exit the camp, for visits or hospitalization in Sittwe hospitals, there are many difficulties. The applicant must be authorized by the government, which usually takes time for a decision; therefore, in urgent cases it is unlikely that the government will accept the request promptly. Also, applicants and families have to bribe the military to exit from camps. Furthermore, many Rohingyas do not trust about Sittwe's hospitals. They know they are unpopular among Burmese and are afraid -as it happened- that the treatment is purposely superficial or inadequate. Two young women tell me of having swelling, loss of sensitivity, and severe pain in their knees. They have difficulties in walking, and are supported by two people even walking for a few meters. Their faces are suffering. Despite the advice by the clinic, they did not go to the hospital; one of the two, having pain for over six months, says that they would rather die in Sittwe. Despite the efforts, humanitarian aids are insufficient to meet the needs of the population. The scarcity of food and water, and the poor hygienic conditions, lead to high mortality rates, especially for children. An elderly woman says that about 500 children under five years died dead in the area since 2012, 200 of which below a year, mainly for diarrhoea.

Rohingya’s faces appear to be hopeless. A man delivered a letter to me, handwritten, in which he talks about the discrimination by the Government and their suffering. He asks a redemption for his people, talks about the support by the NGO, and please doing everything possible to witness the plight of the Rohingya. To which, probably, it just remains to die.

Punishment Over Reform: A Twisted Morality

When the stories of abuse of Indigenous children at Don Dale juvenile detention centre broke last week, outrage and shock flooded our screens. Anyone following the story on social media may have observed that structural racism and white privilege is still defiantly espoused and resolutely defended in Australia.

Against a backdrop of colonial brutality and a history of racial discrimination and violence, author Tony Birch writes, “that it was a shock to many people is itself a stain on the nation.” Indeed, many Australians adopt the mentality advocated by broadcaster Kyle Sandilands, who says that we should simply, "get over it, it's 200 years ago." This argument denies the ongoing colonialism imposed through policy by every Australian government in history.

In Australia, successful rehabilitation programs are shut down in favour of locking more and more people away for as long as possible (with Indigenous members of society particularly targeted). Perhaps it will encourage 'jobs and growth?' Pray tell, Mike Baird. Undoubtedly the private sector is making a killing out of the commodification and outsourcing of cruelty.

Kathleen Maltzahn tells us that the current culture in Australia allows and indeed implicitly approves of physical, sexual and psychological abuse of prisoners. She asks us to consider whether prisoners really deserve it. I think it is hard to argue that our culture is not simply one that approves of a punishment ethos, and that this is what makes people ignore abuse. 'These are our values', wrote Antony Loewenstein of Australian society's malaise.

Fast forward a couple of weeks and the Nauru files scandal erupted. The scale of trauma being inflicted on asylum seekers in offshore concentration camps has been laid bare. Financed by Australian taxpayers. If you were to listen to the government, you would hear that it was the asylum seekers' fault, or the government of Nauru's fault, or the contractors' fault. In turn, those being paid to carry out Australia's punitive policy maintain that they are simply doing a job and diligently reporting abuse to those stakeholders ultimately responsible. Ferrovial, Broadspectrum and Govt of Nauru maintain their claim to innocence and professionalism.

Source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/photomequickbooth/

Will we see the closure of Nauru and Manus? It really makes no sense financially to keep the camps open, considering the military-style turnback operation that is underway to prevent arrivals. Every argument that is put forward to demonise refugees has been repeatedly debunked. We arrive at the fact that they are simply there to be punished; men, women and children. Is this justice? Is this western morality?

We can hope that we are reaching a breaking point, but realistically there is bipartisan political support to continue abusing the most vulnerable in society. Until we decide collectively to fight back and be heard, soulless politicians will not deviate, and corporations will continue to profit from abuse. This SHOULD be an election issue; not as to which party will punish asylum seekers the most, but as to which party will be most welcoming and will work to solve core issues causing displacement in the first place.

Sacrifice (someone else)

It has been playing on my mind recently how quick we are to sacrifice others, their families and their communities, for our own personal or national self-interest.

The Australian public has been bombarded with damaging political rhetoric about refugees for decades. Many are prepared to turn a blind eye to abuse, injustice and abdication of international responsibility in the 'national interest', building an argument on the logic that oppressing a relatively small number of the global displaced, the most vulnerable and damaged, will keep 'the masses' away from our entitled existence. That this is built on centuries of dispossession and injustice is not something that those advocating for its protection wish to acknowledge. We plan to send babies born in Australia to Nauru, to put it beyond doubt that if you try to come here, we are prepared to torture your children. We are sacrificing the vulnerable for self interest.

My wholehearted daughter, out protesting for refugees in Newcastle...

Having thrived during an age of climate stability, the human race is facing climate change as an existential threat, pushing well beyond the planetary boundaries that would ensure some measure of safety. We have destroyed the very ecosystem that we depend on for life, a tragedy and a disgrace. The villains in this arena; the corporations and industries that profit, the politicians that enable and, like it or not, the people that consume. 

As the world wakes up to this climate reality, it appears to be too little too late. The powers that be are unwilling to adopt the radical change that is necessary. And yet again, we sacrifice the little guys to maintain the status quo. Pacific island states will be lost to the sea. Developing nations will be pummelled by ever more frequent and destructive disasters. It is not unrealistic to expect climate change migrants to be met with military force in the years to come. In international forums, talk of common but differentiated responsibility is quelled. In the meantime, trade agreements continue the raid on resources begun under colonial conquest. We are sacrificing the vulnerable for self interest.

In the US the political establishment continue to oppress the working man. In a country rich on international plunder, millions earn a poverty wage. In the UK, the government continues to enforce austerity on the poor while giving corporate and millionaire welfare. In Australia, unions are under attack by politicians that are unwilling to allow scrutiny of their own activities and are opposed to transparency in the affairs of their industry backers. We are sacrificing the vulnerable for self interest. 

We make war when diplomacy does not ensure our supremacy in determining the affairs of other nations. We call it 'freedom' and 'democracy', and those who would be patriots must not dissent when we kill other people's children. We support tyrants around the world, as long as they play by our economic rules. We supply the weapons to kill and maim, and wonder why there is not more peace on earth. Can we truly desire peace, and build it through violence? We are sacrificing the vulnerable for self interest. For Oil. For Markets. We call it 'national interest' or 'national security'.

In our workplaces, in our social clubs, in our communities and in our homes, we have fallen for the age old lie, that looking after number one is all you can really do. Some of us extend our caring to our family, our friends, our tribe, our nation. How many extend it to all human beings? How many extend their compassion to all life on earth? We are sacrificing the vulnerable for self interest.

The cowardly resolve to make a sacrifice of those least able to raise a voice or a fist must be challenged on all fronts. We cannot claim to be for justice and equality while we turn a blind eye to another's suffering. We are all in this together.

Refugees in Europe: a journey from Gevgelija (FYROM) to Budapest (Hungary)

In August, I spent two weeks in my hometown in Southern Italy. I also took a short trip with a friend of mine to Eastern Europe, along the way participating at the EUGEO 2015 Conference in Budapest (Hungary), where I organized a session and presented a paper. During my visit to this region of Europe, the refugee crisis was building. Things were becoming heated, not only in terms of (very) high temperatures, but particularly in terms of tension and debate within the European Union about how to manage what is rightly considered a humanitarian crisis.

Since we were travelling near to the Balkan area, which refugees traditionally use to try to reach their aspired destinations in Northern Europe countries, my friend and I decided to observe with our own eyes what was occurring. Of course, we did not do it for voyeurism purposes. We think that human beings have to recognize the often tragic and sobering power of History, which constantly happens around our everyday life and deserves direct observation when it is possible. We are also against the protectionist strategies of this European Union, setting itself up as an impregnable fortress. In the past 30 years we have been surrounded by news of tragedies constantly happening both along terrestrial borders and Mediterranean sea, as well as about the violence and ignominious treatments perpetrated on migrants both at borders and the detention camps in Libya and Europe. For these reasons, we decided to be an infinitesimal part of that History and to witness the biggest displacement of people to Europe since World War 2.

I am neither a photographer (actually, I just "do pictures"), nor a journalist or a political analyst. However, as an Italian and European citizen calling for a shift towards inclusive mobility rights and hoping that national and supranational borders finally collapse as spaces of militarization, surveillance and control perpetrating existing and new injustice and inequalities, I have attempted to narrate and to document in pictures what I have seen on those European borders. I have also spoken with some of the refugees, trying to be respectful to people that were there sleeping, washing clothes, or playing football, often in very precarious conditions (as in Budapest). I had several small chats with groups of guys or with families; some were tired or didn't want to be disturbed, however others asked us to take pictures and were happy to speak with me.

We arrived in the small town of Gevgelija (FYROM), located just 300 meters from the South-Eastern border FYROM-Greece. The situation was very difficult. The temperature so high that plastic shelters and gazebos under the sun were literally burning. A few volunteers were providing insufficient food and water. People were continuing to arrive from the border, passing through an unpaved way carrying limited bags and dusty clothes. Exhausted parents took children by the arm. On the border, a police cordon was struggling to prevent refugees from crossing the barbed wire which was used to delimit the border. Protests by the desperate crowds were mounting, pushing to enter FYROM territory. I saw also Macedonian police and frustrated people facing off.

The unpaved way from the FYROM-Greece border to the camp in the Gevgelija countryside. 

Refugees arriving from the border. 

Tensions between the Macedonian police and refugees.

After Gevgelija, we travelled (on our own) towards Belgrade, the capital of Serbia, located in the North of the country. We visited the central station in which refugees were recovered -also for days- after travelling on buses from Gevgelija, waiting for an opportunity to reach the Serbia-Hungary border. While the Gevgelija camp was located in the countryside, with just a few nearby houses and about three kilometres far from the small, rusty station of the town, the refugees' area in Belgrade was located at the side of the central station along the river Sava. It was a small, but very crowded green area, with travellers passing with their bags and suitcases throughout igloo tents, people sleeping on the floor, and children showering in fountains. There were also a lot of Serbians accessing the shops and bars outside the station. Therefore it was possible to see both people having a social drink alongside refugees literally assaulting volunteers bringing food packs, which were of course insufficient to cater for the needy. Being the main railway station of Belgrade, it was absolutely a mess. This de facto worsened the already difficult condition of refugees; there was a lot of traffic along the roads with high levels of pollution and noise at the crossing lights; cars were going into and out from the private parking close to the station. Some people were waiting for private buses operating along the route Belgrade-Kanjiža (the small town close to the border Serbia-Hungary). In order to pay for bus tickets, food and water, refugees went to change their currency to the Serbian dinar.

Drying clothes on a football net in the central station in Belgrade. 

Rubbish/Drying. 

Showering kids.

We knew refugees were also in Novi Sad, an important city between Belgrade and the border with Hungary, however we skipped it because we had to enter into Hungary that evening, and long queues for border checks were expected (in fact, we spent four hours for a passport and baggage check!). Before approaching the border, we visited the refugees' camp in the Serbian town of Kanjiža. The camp was located in a green area just outside the town and close to a railway track. The condition was relatively better than Gevgelija and Belgrade; the camp was monitored by the volunteers of a humanitarian association, and tents were provided for shelter as well as fountains and toilets. A Syrian family asked me to take a picture of their daughters, and this turned into an occasion for a short chat. They told me that they took one month to arrive there from Homs (Northern Syria). They wanted to reach Germany, where some relatives were waiting for them. They did not know what would happen when they tried to cross the Hungarian border, however that evening they were preparing to leave the camp, Inshallah.

The kids of the Syrian family I chatted with in Kanjiža. The youngest daughter was very reticent to pose. 

Washing clothes. 

The camp had humanitarian tents, which are more comfortable of igloo tents or the ground. 

After a few days, I took part in the EUGEO conference in Budapest, where refugees were gathered into the Kalati station waiting to take trains to Germany and Austria. The station was full of refugees in shameful conditions; however, the Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán decided to prevent them from boarding the trains. The reason for this halt was the application of the EU directives on migrations. According to the Dublin III Regulation by EU, every application for international protection lodged by refugees has to be examined in the country of entry. Although the halt by Orbán was formally lawful and "necessary", it only served to worsen the already unsustainable conditions of the refugees in the station. Just a small water pump and few smelling toilets were provided for hundreds of people, as well as minimal food and no safe areas for sleeping. Refugees (probably around 500 people, but is a very roughly estimation also due to that other people came in the following days) were waiting for days in front of the station sleeping on the ground. They protested and claimed their right to travel. I spoke with some very young Syrian and Iraqi guys. They wanted to go in Germany and angrily waved their train tickets under my nose. A part of the ignominious conditions of the refugees, I was also ashamed for the silence on this issue during the EUGEO 2015 Conference. The Kalati station was just at three kilometres from the conference venue, the Eötvös Loránd University, in Buda side of the Danube. Nevertheless, it seems to me there has been no mention or condemnation, in formal speeches or key note lectures, about what was happening there. Nothing changes with a formal condemnation, of course, however a scientific meeting of geographers and social scientists must be aware of what is happening in their proximity and highlight injustices, particularly when global challenges knock on your door.

Underground passage occupied by refugees in the Kalati station, Budapest. 

Trying to rest. 

A man protesting against the police cordoning the station entrance. 

These guys show me their tickets for Germany. They were in the station since five days, and no food was provided. 

Refugees in the Kalati station. 

I do not know what has happened to the people I met, if they have been able to reach their destination and if they will be able to build a new life far from their home countries. In previous posts on our blog, Jason posed very interesting questions about the challenges migration and displacement pose to the concept of "place" and to the Western development models which provide benefits for the few and sufferance, bombs, and destruction for the others. In the Middle East and around the world, wars or terrorism threaten communities and institutions; this can be considered a disaster. Wars' consequences exceed the capacity of the population to survive, to regain a job or a wage, or to sustain their livelihoods. Local communities cannot cope with the disruption and destruction using exclusively their own resources. As disaster scholars, we are called to investigate the relationships among migrations, society, and environment for understanding pre-existing and new vulnerabilities and risks, for both people continuing to live in those countries and refugees. In this way, several researches are exploring impacts of wars, as well as climate change and hazards on migration trends and displacement. Also narrating and witnessing refugees' stories and conditions respond to this academic -and ethical- need, giving voice to excluded and marginalized people.

All my pictures can be found at my Facebook page (contents are in Italian, apologize for this), as well as pictures by my friend (he is an amateur photographer) on his Flickr.

The Displacement Crisis Revealing our Humanity

The world is finally waking up to a global displacement crisis. While we debate what to call the displaced, refugees...asylum seekers...migrants...the number of people seeking a new 'place' as a matter of urgency is swelling like never before in history. What is 'place' and who deserves one to call their own? Do citizens of failed states have a right to seek another place? As we consider the cauldron of violence and instability that is the Middle East, are we asking questions about the underlying causes of displacement?

Photo by Giuseppe Forino

This crisis is only likely to grow. As Australia and the UK prepare to join the US-led bombing campaign in Syria, will the politicians making the decision to kill ever more civilians be held accountable for the impact? How has this strategy worked out before in Iraq, Afghanistan and Libya? Violence is a lucrative pastime. The global arms trade generates massive revenues, and soaring military spending is justified based on the perceived risks posed globally, often as a result of intentional destabilization. Quite a business model.

However, it is not only conflict that creates displacement. Climate change is occurring whether you like science or not. Disaster impacts are evolving as societies urbanize and people adopt less sustainable living in the pursuit of 'development'. In many ways, people are become more exposed to disaster risk because of how they choose to live. The drive to 'modernize' and 'advance' inherently supports the incumbent economic system of our time. A devotion to market fundamentalism practically locks us in for whatever disasters will eventually befall our race.

Put it this way. Our economic and social order is built on the premise that limitless growth is healthy. Anything that might challenge this premise is dismissed as problematic, idealistic and unreasonable. Solutions that involve equality and justice for all are labeled socialist. This belief system taken to the extreme brings us humanitarian bombing and coal is good for humanity. Orwell was spot on; blind, selfish, self-absorbed consumers want to believe that 'war is peace, freedom is slavery, ignorance is strength'.

It is great to see the outpouring of empathy for the Syrian refugees reaching Europe. It gives me hope that most of us really do care about others. Perhaps it takes a picture and the tragic story of a dead toddler to really wake us up from our busy, stressed out existence. My hope is that this crisis will create thousands of activists around the world. There are huge ethical and moral dilemmas to consider, but not a lot of time to take action.

The world certainly needs to come up with rapid and collective solutions to this humanitarian crisis, but we need to be careful not to apply a band-aid to a deep laceration. Increasing refugee intake is commendable, but are we prepared to interrogate the problem at its source?