Now Sudan is attacking Darfur refugee camps
By Mia Farrow and Eric Reeves
September 6, 2008 — At 6 a.m. on the morning of Aug. 25, Kalma camp, home to 90,000 displaced Darfuris, was surrounded by Sudanese government forces. By 7 a.m., 60 heavily armed military vehicles had entered the camp, shooting
and setting straw huts ablaze. Terrified civilians — who had previously
fled their burning villages when they were attacked by this same
government and its proxy killers the Janjaweed — hastily armed
themselves with sticks, spears and knives. Of course, these were no
match for machine guns and automatic weapons. By 9 a.m., the worst of
the brutal assault was over. The vehicles rolled out leaving scores dead
and over 100 wounded. Most were women and children.
The early morning attack ensured that no aid workers were present as
witnesses. Doctors Without Borders did manage to negotiate the
transportation of 49 of the most severely wounded to a hospital in the
nearby town of Nyala. But beyond this, aid workers have been blocked
from entering the camp. Military vehicles have now increased in number
and massed around Kalma. They have permitted no humanitarian assistance
to reach the wounded. People already hard hit by recent floods and
deteriorating sanitary conditions have received no food, water or
medicine since Monday. The dead cannot even be buried with the white
shrouds requested by the families of the victims.
How can such brazen cruelty be inflicted upon our fellow human beings?
How is it that a military assault on displaced civilians in a refugee
camp creates barely a ripple in the news cycle? How does such outrageous
human destruction prompt so little outrage? How is it that those who
have been tasked with protecting the world’s most vulnerable population
have failed — and failed, and then failed yet again — in their central
responsibility? What does this say about the United Nations and the
powerful member states? How have we come to such a moment?
Such questions can be answered by looking at our response to Darfur’s
agony over the past six years. Any honest assessment would be as
shocking and dispiriting as the assault on Kalma itself. The
international response to massive crimes by Sudanese President Omar
al-Bashir and his cabal has been simply this: We accommodate and
acquiesce, with the contrived hope that these tyrants might grow weary
of their task, or that paper agreements can somehow have meaning without
a sustained and powerful international commitment backing them.
The Kalma massacre is a part of Khartoum’s larger genocidal campaign.
Since 2003, 80%-90% of Darfur’s African villages have been destroyed,
and more than 2.5 million survivors have fled to squalid camps across
Darfur, eastern Chad and the Central African Republic. Hundreds of
thousands have died. Khartoum’s next goal is to shut down camps in
Darfur, and force people out into the desert where they cannot survive.
The homes and fields that once sustained so many of Darfur’s people are
ashes now, or they have new occupants — Arab tribes from Darfur and as far away as Chad, Niger and Mali.
The message of the Kalma massacre is chillingly clear for Darfuris. But
this assault on civilians in full view of the international community
raises the question of what the massacre says about the rest of us. The
only message we have sent to the Sudanese government is that they can now attack the camps and the world will watch and do nothing.
Ms. Farrow has just returned from her 10th trip to the Darfur region.
Mr. Reeves is author of “A Long Day’s Dying: Critical Moments in the
Darfur Genocide” (The Key Publishing House, 2007)