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| By SAW YAN NAING | Wednesday, March 16, 2011 |
PAPUN DISTRICT, Eastern Burma—I was excited about my first trip inside northern Karen State to the headquarters of the Karen National Liberation Army (KNLA) Brigade 5, the rebel base at the heart of one of the world’s longest running ethnic insurgencies.
On day one, my colleague and I arrived at the small Thai border town of Mae Sam Laep on the bank of the Salween River which demarcates much of the borderline between Burma and Thailand. Sitting at a small shop eating lunch, we could see Burmese government soldiers mulling around their base on the other side of the river.We took a longtail boat upstream. All along the Salween, the natural beauty of the jungle, its tropical fresh air and songbirds seemed to welcome us. Brought up at a refugee camp, it was many years since I had been able to take in the magnificence of my homeland—the towering mountains, the rocky riverbank, the teak trees and bamboo plants, and the swirling flow of the Salween. We waved to the villagers along the riverbanks, washing, scrubbing pots, fishing, swimming, tending to vegetable gardens.
March is dry season; it's very hot and many of the trees in Karen state are bare. But, as the sun went down, it became cool—then cold. As the sun set behind the mountains, I shot some video footage.
The Karen boat driver had advised us that we were to pass Thai checkpoints, Burmese army camps and a Karen refugee camp called Ei Htu Hta—housing about 4,500 refugees of war.
It took about two and half hours to reach the nearest KNLA base. We showed the soldiers our letter of permission from the Karen National Union (KNU) and then went ashore.
The following morning, a KNLA commander ordered one of his men to guide us to the Brigade 5 headquarters. We took another boat trip and reached a Karen village called Mae Nu Hta on the Burmese side of the Salween within four hours.
I thought we were at the HQ, but the guide pointed toward the huge mountains. We had a brief rest and then started climbing. With his wispy beard, the KNLA soldier just smiled at us. He could see the doubt in my eyes. “Don't worry,” he said. “We can sleep in a hut in the jungle if you get too tired.”
After one hour of walking, we stopped to catch our breath. My shirt was soaked through with sweat. It was getting dark, but we had to go on. The night sky was crystal clear and peppered with bright stars. We had to use our flashlights to keep going. At about 10 pm, we reached a hamlet where we slept.
We were trekking again the next morning by 7 am. Finally, we got to Dae Bu Noh where KNLA Brigade 5 is based.
I busied myself talking with villagers, students, teachers, medics, mothers, KNLA officers and soldiers.
I learned that the people in the village call Dae Bu Noh a “black zone,” meaning an area where armed conflict between the Karen guerrillas and Burmese troops can break out at any time.
A medic explained: “If they [Karen rebels and Burmese army units] meet, they fight. If the government troops come through the village, the villagers run away. If they don’t run, they may get shot. In the 'black zone,' the only option is to escape every time.”
I was under the misconception that the “black zone” was an area where civilians got caught in the crossfire. However, that is not the case: the Karen villages in this region are deliberately targeted by government troops, routinely accused of being KNU supporters or sympathizers. Villagers are tortured, killed or forced to serve as porters. Women can get raped and even children get mistreated.
According to KNLA Brigade 5 records, there are some 10,000 internally displaced persons (IDPs) currently in the Papun District of northern Karen State alone.
Located in one of the most remote and cut-off areas in Southeast Asia, villages in Papun District seldom see anything in the way of aid from Rangoon-based NGOs.
Most Karen people here depend on rice and vegetable farming, breeding livestock, and selling a few simple handicrafts.
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Slide Show (March is dry season; it's very hot and many of the trees in Karen state are bare. But, as the sun went down, it became cool—then cold. As the sun set behind the mountains, I shot some video footage.
The Karen boat driver had advised us that we were to pass Thai checkpoints, Burmese army camps and a Karen refugee camp called Ei Htu Hta—housing about 4,500 refugees of war.
It took about two and half hours to reach the nearest KNLA base. We showed the soldiers our letter of permission from the Karen National Union (KNU) and then went ashore.
The following morning, a KNLA commander ordered one of his men to guide us to the Brigade 5 headquarters. We took another boat trip and reached a Karen village called Mae Nu Hta on the Burmese side of the Salween within four hours.
I thought we were at the HQ, but the guide pointed toward the huge mountains. We had a brief rest and then started climbing. With his wispy beard, the KNLA soldier just smiled at us. He could see the doubt in my eyes. “Don't worry,” he said. “We can sleep in a hut in the jungle if you get too tired.”
After one hour of walking, we stopped to catch our breath. My shirt was soaked through with sweat. It was getting dark, but we had to go on. The night sky was crystal clear and peppered with bright stars. We had to use our flashlights to keep going. At about 10 pm, we reached a hamlet where we slept.
We were trekking again the next morning by 7 am. Finally, we got to Dae Bu Noh where KNLA Brigade 5 is based.
I busied myself talking with villagers, students, teachers, medics, mothers, KNLA officers and soldiers.
I learned that the people in the village call Dae Bu Noh a “black zone,” meaning an area where armed conflict between the Karen guerrillas and Burmese troops can break out at any time.
A medic explained: “If they [Karen rebels and Burmese army units] meet, they fight. If the government troops come through the village, the villagers run away. If they don’t run, they may get shot. In the 'black zone,' the only option is to escape every time.”
I was under the misconception that the “black zone” was an area where civilians got caught in the crossfire. However, that is not the case: the Karen villages in this region are deliberately targeted by government troops, routinely accused of being KNU supporters or sympathizers. Villagers are tortured, killed or forced to serve as porters. Women can get raped and even children get mistreated.
According to KNLA Brigade 5 records, there are some 10,000 internally displaced persons (IDPs) currently in the Papun District of northern Karen State alone.
Located in one of the most remote and cut-off areas in Southeast Asia, villages in Papun District seldom see anything in the way of aid from Rangoon-based NGOs.
Most Karen people here depend on rice and vegetable farming, breeding livestock, and selling a few simple handicrafts.
To obtain “imported” items such as pots and pans, clothes and other basic commodities, the menfolk often walk for two days to buy supplies at the Thai border.When asked about the effects of the reduction in cross-border humanitarian aid, most shrug and have no idea what I am talking about.
They may have a GDP of almost zero, but these simple villagers are almost completely self-sufficient.
They tell me they could survive well by themselves without any outside help— if only they were not terrorized by the Tatmadaw, the Burmese army.
Like a game of cat and mouse, the Karen villagers learn how to detect when the Tatmadaw is closing in, and usually flee just in time. They stock hideaways in the jungle and stay there when the Burmese soldiers patrol their village, returning only when they are sure the troops have left.
Pway Doh Moe, a housewife who has lived in Dae Bu Noh for 40 years, said she dreads the summertime because that is when the Burmese army launch military offensives and patrol the villages.
“When it comes to the dry season, we are overcome with fear,” she said. “We cannot sleep for worry. Every day, we are afraid that the Tatmadaw will suddenly appear.”
She said that in 2007 the government troops came to the village and burned down a makeshift clinic. They made themselves at home in the village until the KNLA launched an assault on them. Then they ran away.
“At that time, everyone in the village fled. We had to hide in the jungle for three weeks,” she said.
“We just want to live without fear,” she added.
Most of the current residents in Dae Pu Noh are IDPs who have been on the run since 1990 due to repeated military offensives in northern Karen State. Established in 1972, the village now houses more than 1,200 people.
They all seem to trust in the ultimate victory of Karen resistance. Many say nobody will respect the Karen people unless they possess their own state.
It's a big ask—the KNU has been fighting for autonomy for 63 years, ever since Burma gained independence from Britain in 1948. Unlike other ethnic armed groups such as Wa, Kachin and Mon, the KNU has never signed a cease-fire agreement with the Burmese junta.
A military training officer told me about the time he went to Thailand. His eyes grew wide with wonder as he recalled all the modern towns with restaurants, cars and electricity.
“It was like a dream,” he said.
“My home is in Karen State. I want to stay here. But without freedom, we will be oppressed and live in poverty forever. We have to fight until we win,” he said.
We left Dae Pu Noh village on Mar. 7, heading out of the village and immediately up a steep mountain at 6:30 am. We knew from our KNU guide that the mountain is estimated to be about a 3,500-foot climb.
From the top of the mountain, we could see for miles and miles in every direction. But there was nothing to see except hills and trees.
The KNU soldier-cum-guide told us that we were passing the area where a well-known British officer from the famed Force 136, Maj. Hugh Seagram, once hid out under the protection of the Karen fighters.
Seagram was famous in hand-to-hand combat against Japanese forces. He fought alongside the Karen guerrillas to repel the Japanese throughout World War II. Seagram, whose name is still widely known among KNU fighters, eventually surrendered to the Japanese army in 1944 after learning that Karen villagers were being tortured to reveal his hideout. He was executed by the Japanese army.
We passed several villages and witnessed the lifestyles and livelihoods of the local people. Some make a living by collecting and selling leaves, which are used as roofing tiles in the villages.
Before crossing back into Thailand, we spent two days in the jungle with the KNLA soldiers and visited Ei Htu Hta refugee camp on the bank of the Salween River.
We visited a school and I spoke with a 17-year-old Karen schoolgirl, Naw Katherine, who had just finished her exams. She told me she wanted to become a schoolteacher to help her fellow Karens who have been suppressed for decades. She said she could not bear to see another generation growing up without an education.
“I want to serve my country and my people,” she said. “I want my people to be educated. I am very sad to see my people being displacing and fleeing into other countries even though we have our own state,” she said.
Tow days later and I'm back in the comfort of The Irrawaddy office in Chiang Mai with its air-conditioning, WiFi and fresh coffee. I can't help remembering the misery and hardship I saw in Karen State—the desperate faces of the villagers, the refugees and KNLA troops.
The voice of Pway Doh Moe echoes in my ears. I recall her words as I finished interviewing her. She looked me straight in the eye while shaking her head forlornly. “We are getting older every day out of worry and fear,” she said.
They may have a GDP of almost zero, but these simple villagers are almost completely self-sufficient.
They tell me they could survive well by themselves without any outside help— if only they were not terrorized by the Tatmadaw, the Burmese army.
Like a game of cat and mouse, the Karen villagers learn how to detect when the Tatmadaw is closing in, and usually flee just in time. They stock hideaways in the jungle and stay there when the Burmese soldiers patrol their village, returning only when they are sure the troops have left.
Pway Doh Moe, a housewife who has lived in Dae Bu Noh for 40 years, said she dreads the summertime because that is when the Burmese army launch military offensives and patrol the villages.
“When it comes to the dry season, we are overcome with fear,” she said. “We cannot sleep for worry. Every day, we are afraid that the Tatmadaw will suddenly appear.”
She said that in 2007 the government troops came to the village and burned down a makeshift clinic. They made themselves at home in the village until the KNLA launched an assault on them. Then they ran away.
“At that time, everyone in the village fled. We had to hide in the jungle for three weeks,” she said.
“We just want to live without fear,” she added.
Most of the current residents in Dae Pu Noh are IDPs who have been on the run since 1990 due to repeated military offensives in northern Karen State. Established in 1972, the village now houses more than 1,200 people.
They all seem to trust in the ultimate victory of Karen resistance. Many say nobody will respect the Karen people unless they possess their own state.
It's a big ask—the KNU has been fighting for autonomy for 63 years, ever since Burma gained independence from Britain in 1948. Unlike other ethnic armed groups such as Wa, Kachin and Mon, the KNU has never signed a cease-fire agreement with the Burmese junta.
A military training officer told me about the time he went to Thailand. His eyes grew wide with wonder as he recalled all the modern towns with restaurants, cars and electricity.
“It was like a dream,” he said.
“My home is in Karen State. I want to stay here. But without freedom, we will be oppressed and live in poverty forever. We have to fight until we win,” he said.
We left Dae Pu Noh village on Mar. 7, heading out of the village and immediately up a steep mountain at 6:30 am. We knew from our KNU guide that the mountain is estimated to be about a 3,500-foot climb.
From the top of the mountain, we could see for miles and miles in every direction. But there was nothing to see except hills and trees.
The KNU soldier-cum-guide told us that we were passing the area where a well-known British officer from the famed Force 136, Maj. Hugh Seagram, once hid out under the protection of the Karen fighters.
Seagram was famous in hand-to-hand combat against Japanese forces. He fought alongside the Karen guerrillas to repel the Japanese throughout World War II. Seagram, whose name is still widely known among KNU fighters, eventually surrendered to the Japanese army in 1944 after learning that Karen villagers were being tortured to reveal his hideout. He was executed by the Japanese army.
We passed several villages and witnessed the lifestyles and livelihoods of the local people. Some make a living by collecting and selling leaves, which are used as roofing tiles in the villages.
Before crossing back into Thailand, we spent two days in the jungle with the KNLA soldiers and visited Ei Htu Hta refugee camp on the bank of the Salween River.
We visited a school and I spoke with a 17-year-old Karen schoolgirl, Naw Katherine, who had just finished her exams. She told me she wanted to become a schoolteacher to help her fellow Karens who have been suppressed for decades. She said she could not bear to see another generation growing up without an education.
“I want to serve my country and my people,” she said. “I want my people to be educated. I am very sad to see my people being displacing and fleeing into other countries even though we have our own state,” she said.
Tow days later and I'm back in the comfort of The Irrawaddy office in Chiang Mai with its air-conditioning, WiFi and fresh coffee. I can't help remembering the misery and hardship I saw in Karen State—the desperate faces of the villagers, the refugees and KNLA troops.
The voice of Pway Doh Moe echoes in my ears. I recall her words as I finished interviewing her. She looked me straight in the eye while shaking her head forlornly. “We are getting older every day out of worry and fear,” she said.
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