| OUTCRY | "we are persecuted, but not forsaken |
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A Publication of Christian Solidarity Worldwide - USA |
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We
explore the tragic existence of Burma's child soldiers
We say it’s time to think again. I remember it clearly. Dressed in the obligatory red checked shirt, fringed waistcoat and enormous cowboy hat, I hid behind the garden shed clutching a plastic gun. Hearing a slight rustle in the grass, I leapt out from my hiding place and jubilantly pumped my enemy full of lead (or in this case, water). Whether it was cowboys and Indians or cops and robbers, most of us will look back at our childhoods and smile. With such vivid imaginations, didn’t we all once take to role playing games like ducks to water? |
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But in some contexts, adolescent warfare has taken a much more sinister turn. Picture this. A twelve-year-old boy, cheerful and mischievous, who should be playing football and computer games with his friends, attending school, eating sweets and generally causing the same trouble that most twelve-year-olds do. A twelve-year-old boy, standing in front of you, aiming an M16 rifle straight at your chest. Too often we hear of bloody acts of violence committed by Burma Army soldiers against the ethnic groups. What often goes unreported is that many of these soldiers are in fact children. A slippery slope Min-Tun* was 14 years old when he was kidnapped by the soldiers. He had spent the afternoon watching a film with friends in his hometown when he was abducted and sent to a military training centre. He was forbidden from contacting his parents, and to this day has no idea how or where they are. After just four months of training, Min-Tun was sent to the front line to fight against Karen soldiers. He was beaten and punched by the commander on a regular basis. Imagine it. A young boy thrown into the midst of violent combat. His gun was probably nearly as tall as him. His compensation was a small ration of rice and bananas and a measly six Kyat per month. That’s about 50 pence to you or me. Around one-third of the soldiers in Min-Tun’s unit were children of a similar age. Min-Tun is one of the lucky ones. He managed to escape. But the physical and emotional scarring that remains can only be described as a devastating legacy. And worse still, thousands of children, including Christians, are still being forced to fight – some as young as nine or ten. *Pseudonym used. The devil in the detail Min-Tun’s story follows a familiar pattern. Officially, the Burma Army claims that all of its soldiers are volunteers over the age of eighteen. However, testimonies from the children themselves reveal that time and time again, children are being forcibly conscripted into the army. Burma has the highest number of child soldiers of anywhere in the world – over 70,000. Most of these are bullied, threatened – in other words forced – to comply. The pattern often goes like this. Small groups of soldiers stalk the railway, local markets and streets, waiting for the right opportunity to prey on their victims. Spurred on by cash incentives or the possibility of discharge from the army, they target young boys between ten and seventeen. After all, at this age they are easier to intimidate. The children might be asked to produce identity cards, which of course they will not have until they reach eighteen. They are threatened with a jail sentence unless they agree to join the army. Often they are beaten until they consent. For the soldiers, it’s a quick way to earn some cash. For the boys, it’s an even quicker way to have their childhoods snatched away. The training begins, first in recruit holding camps and then on to military training. The boys have no way to escape and no means of contacting their families. They face poor sanitary conditions and inadequate food. Attempts to escape are met with barbaric punishment. In many cases an entire group of children will be forced to beat the escapee in question. Some die as a result of their treatment. After being deployed into the battalions, the beatings continue. Child soldiers are forced to act brutally towards civilians, acts which often include murder and rape. When forced into combat, the boys are terrified, often closing their eyes and shooting their guns into the air. Some commit suicide, others manage to escape. Those who do run away face an uncertain future. Unable to return to their families for fear of being caught and arrested, some join opposition forces and continue fighting, while others flee to India or Thailand, where they risk being trafficked into bonded labor. Pressing on This is the devastating situation for many children in Burma, and sadly the existence of child soldiers is just one drop in the ocean of human rights abuses occurring in the country. Forced labor, religious persecution, rape, murder and torture are the tragic reality of a nation riddled with corruption. But with your ongoing support, CSW will continue to work for the children of Burma, along with other victims across the country. Jesus taught us that salvation comes through the eyes of a child, free from the brutality that maturity can create. Changing an outlook can be painstakingly slow; we can’t snap our fingers to create an immediately better world. CSW will be there all the way. Act Write to the UN Secretary General outlining your concerns for victims in Burma. Further details can be found on pp16-17. |
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The inspiring life of Pedro
Claver
Every day, during the first half of the 17th century, Father Pedro Claver would peer through his tiny window, looking out over the Caribbean Sea. He waited for the slave ships, each carrying scores of men and women, captured and brought by force from Africa. The city of Cartagena, Colombia, where Claver was sent as a young Jesuit, and where he died in 1654, was the hub of the slave economy. After the Spanish settled in the Americas, the indigenous population was virtually wiped out by Western diseases, causing them to look towards Africa for their labor. Cartagena was the first port of call for most slave ships coming to the New World, where men and women were sold and then shipped on to other locations in the region. Slaves were transported in horrific conditions, and were often seriously ill or dying by the time they arrived. Father Claver, now Saint Pedro Claver, took a radical and controversial stand to reach out with the gospel and to minister to the physical needs of people who were not even considered human beings by many in the Church. Although based in a city known for its wealth and sophistication, Claver believed he was called to minister to the most marginalized. He would beg for donations of food and medicine from the city’s rich elite. When slave ships arrived, he would rush to the docks to greet them – tending to the sick, and offering food and clothing to the rest. When he could find the money, he would buy freedom for as many as he could. Many of these chose to stay with Claver, and became his interpreters to minister to future victims of the slave trade. Claver’s work seemed futile to many of his contemporaries. Some even condemned him for “profaning the sacraments” by giving them to “those creatures”. Although, in his lifetime, Claver only saw the slave trade expand, rather than coming to an end, he continued with his ministry to the end of his life. Today he is called the “slave of slaves” and is the patron saint of slaves amongst everyone of African descent in the Americas. Christians throughout the world have much to learn from the life of this remarkable man; an inspiration to all those who carry out God’s work despite frustration and hopelessness. CSW seeks justice for India's Dalit slaves
Rising out of the ground like a snowcapped mountain, the white temple walls glisten in the morning sunlight. As if unaware of its majesty, a bustling local market continues under the temple’s watchful gaze. The closer you get, the more restlessness seems to hang stiffly in the air, a remnant perhaps of the anxiety brought about by its construction. The constant worry that this magnificent structure would be pleasing to the Hindu gods for whom it was created. A woman begins her labored climb up the steps towards the temple entrance. She twitches her sari to stop the blue and gold fabric from trailing in a dirty puddle. Pausing slightly, she gazes upwards, using one hand to shield her eyes from the dazzling sun. It was here that her life was destroyed. As the memories materialize, flooding her mind with remorse and sorrow, plump tears began to roll steadily down her cheeks. I met Yellamma* on a recent visit to India, whilst filming interviews for a documentary called India’s Hidden Slavery. I’ve heard plenty of tragic stories from India, but to me, hers was among the most bitter and saddening of all. Yellamma began her life as an unwelcome addition to her family. She was the second daughter of Dalit, or ‘untouchable’ parents, making her a dowry burden they couldn’t bear, so her grandmother took her to a temple where she prayed the little girl would be taken away by its god. The prayer was answered, and Yellamma became a devadasi, or temple prostitute. While some history books, especially the ‘upper-caste’ narratives, trumpet devadasis as belonging to a glorious and noble profession, the reality today is a much bleaker tale. Weeping with shame and sorrow, Yellamma told us how at her dedication, she was raped by three men. Afterwards, she was treated as common property by priests and other men, who would make her drunk before sexually abusing her. When she left the temple, other men taunted her and threw stones at her. Yellamma is no longer a devadasi, and has devoted her life to rescuing Dalit girls from a similar fate. With tears in her eyes, she reflected, “I can’t get my own life back now”. Nobody is quite sure of the number of devadasis in India. But they are still there in huge numbers, treated as sub-human and worthless. Yellamma’s story is just one example of slavery’s persistent grip on India. Slavery’s many faces Politicians and economists delight in giving optimistic forecasts about India’s future as a modern economic superpower. Around the world, the news spreads from the lips of every business tycoon on the lookout for a lucrative investment. The din it creates muffles the cries of India’s 250 million Dalits and tribals, who collectively bear the weight of the country on their shoulders. On the outskirts of Hyderabad, businesses are built on the toil of India’s millions of bonded laborers. They might have desperately needed a loan for something as simple as a dowry or medical bill, but now find themselves bonded to creditors who subject them to interest rates so high as to ensure that their initial loan can never be repaid. Generations of families are kept in this form of slavery. Meanwhile in the slums of Delhi, Dalits pursue the dirty, disgusting and illegal task of manual scavenging, or cleaning human excrement from the dry latrines of the ‘upper castes’. Elsewhere, others face the devastating reality of human trafficking. The crisis of caste There is little doubt that India has one of the world’s worst problems with modern slavery, and nearly every one of India’s slaves is a Dalit, born into the bottom of the ugly instrument of systematic and pervasive discrimination which is the caste system. The exploitation and oppression of millions stems from a belief that these people are worthless. While it would be naïve to say that ‘Dalit’ simply equates with ‘slave’, what is clear is that we cannot begin to tackle slavery in India without looking at the caste problem which underlies it all. Fundamentally, true freedom for India’s slaves only comes through freedom for the Dalits. Present measures to uplift the Dalits fall far short of succeeding. Real freedom will come through education, economic empowerment and having their voices and their version of history heard. It will also come through religious freedom, so they can ‘opt out’ of the caste system that is intrinsic to Hinduism, even though no religion is untouched by caste. Dr Kancha Ilaiah, an eminent ‘backward caste’ professor of politics, told me, ‘For the Dalits, there is no space for hope, because hope requires boundaries. In India, their despair knows no boundaries’. But this year CSW aims to play a part in bringing fresh hope to the Dalits. Advocacy initiatives will include fact-finding visits to India, meetings with high-level politicians and religious leaders and the hosting of a delegation of activists for the Dalits. Ears are listening, momentum is gathering, and not a moment too soon. The time has come to dry the tears of the oppressed, and to help make slavery in India a thing of the past. *Pseudonym used.
It’s dusk in the small town of Yei, southern Sudan. In the compound of a guest house run by the wife of a Presbyterian bishop, a group of Christians are relating harrowing tales of the destitution in their home area of Aweil to two CSW staff members. Their translator, an articulate young man, is bright-eyed, and has a cheerful, positive demeanor. Not at all what you’d expect from a former slave. In the past the relatively peaceful lifestyle of the Dinka people was marked by fear. Regular militia raids have destroyed homes and broken family units, and hundreds of abducted men, women and children have been forced into slavery in northern Sudan. The pattern of slavery The interpreter, twenty four-year-old Malong Baak Malong remained composed and dignified as he related his story. At the age of twelve, he was kidnapped by raiders who descended on his village, burning houses and seizing cattle, property and people. His entire family was rounded up, taken to the north and given to different “owners” in the area of Abu Jaber. His father died in captivity. His sister, who was very young, was forced to grind wheat by hand and was regularly beaten. His mother was made to undertake back breaking work and his two brothers looked after cows.
Malong lived with an Arab slave owner and was
expected to tend to the animals. One day he accidentally lost three camels.
“The Arab man slapped me so hard that I lost all hearing in my left ear.”
Malong was also forced to convert to Islam and was only allowed to speak
Arabic. “I was forced to be a Muslim, and when I eventually returned to my
home area, I had to re-learn my own language,” he said.
We have never met. I only know about you through other people, who risked their own lives to tell me about yours. You must have been about my age, in your early twenties, when they took you to the prison camp in North Korea. Please don’t think that, if you’d had the opportunity to tell me yourself, I wouldn’t have believed your story. I know only too well what happens in the prison camps. I’m so sorry it had to happen to you too. I know that you were sent to a camp because your uncle, a high ranking army commander, was purged. Was it because of the famine? I wonder sometimes what it was like, living in such dire circumstances. So many people have tried escaping to South Korea or China, simply because their families were starving to death. Is that what happened with you? I guess we’ll never know. I don’t understand why they had to punish your whole family, but I suppose that’s what they do don’t they? I know
that you were convinced of your own innocence, and that it was this that
gave you strength. I hear that when you first got to the prison camp you
worked as hard as you could. Nothing bad can happen to innocent and
hard-working prisoners can it? Perhaps if you earned a good record they
would let you go. But this is rare in North Korea. Once that iron gate is
shut behind you, there’s no going back. You will always be in my thoughts. I just
wish you could have known that despite everything, there is love and
goodness in the world.
Charge your pens and get campaigning for human rights
LETTER-WRITING
Being a voice for the
voiceless is not just about talking. So dig out a pen and paper and get
scribbling for human rights. Sample letter
North Korea |
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| Articles courtesy of CSW-UK |
| © Christian Solidarity Worldwide |