Sudanese suffer as militias hide in plain sight

By MARC LACEY, The New York Times

NYALA, Sudan, Aug 06, 2004 — Sudan’s government lined up 50 prisoners at the main jail here recently and offered them as evidence to the world that it was cracking down on the militias that have stained so much of the desert sand of Darfur, the country’s western region, with blood.

But when the men spoke and when their court files were reviewed, it quickly became clear that many of them were not members of the militias, which have displaced a million villagers in the last year and a half and killed tens of thousands in what the United States Congress calls a genocide.

Among the group were petty criminals who had already been in jail as long as four years. One man’s charge was drinking wine in a country that forbids it.

The United Nations Security Council has given Sudan until Aug. 30 to rein in the militias, called the Janjaweed, Arab tribesmen whom the government armed and then unleashed in Darfur to quell a rebellion among darker-skinned Africans that began in early 2003. Failure to disarm the militias could mean sanctions against the government in Khartoum.

But Janjaweed is a fluid identity, and diplomats here say the government has exploited the ambiguity. First it armed the militias, rallied them and set them loose in Darfur. Then it gave many of the same men uniforms and declared them upholders of the law. Sometimes the Janjaweed have served as law enforcement officers by day and reverted to pillaging at night.

The government says it has sent thousands of security officers to Darfur to impose order and plans to send thousands more. But whether the government is bringing the Janjaweed to heel, or even if it can, is far from clear.

“If you sent 200 soldiers out to get the Janjaweed, maybe 50 of them would probably be Janjaweed themselves,” said Osman Mirghani, a prominent columnist for the Sudanese newspaper Al Rayaam who has written frequently and frankly about the conflict in Darfur, sometimes incurring the wrath of the government.

“A Janjaweed is a Janjaweed when he is on his horse with his gun, going to burn and kill,” Mr. Mirghani said. “But when he comes back to his village and hides his gun he is no different than anyone else. Maybe he’s a policeman during the day and a Janjaweed at night.”

Indeed, in many cases the government has provided the Janjaweed with uniforms, identification cards and commissions in the police, army or popular defense force, according to interviews with aid workers, local human rights advocates and others. As far as the government is concerned they are no longer Janjaweed.

“I’m a soldier now,” said one such new recruit, a Arab teenager who was smiling as he cradled his assault rifle. He was speaking to his schoolteacher, a black African, who had seen him with Janjaweed leaders.

Without their guns and horses, without the head wraps they use to shield themselves from Darfur’s searing heat and blowing wind, the Janjaweed blend easily into the local population. When not in government-issued camouflage uniforms, they wear the long white robes common among Sudanese.

Some sit behind desks when they are not pillaging. Others herd camels by day but do unspeakable things once the desert turns dark at night.

Further muddying things, the government accuses the rebels, who call themselves the Sudan Liberation Army and the Justice and Equality Movement, of using camels during some of their attacks, pretending to be Janjaweed in an attempt to smear officials in Khartoum.

To avoid confusion, some have stopped using the term Janjaweed altogether. The term itself is an amalgam of Arabic words that roughly translates as “a devil on horseback with a gun.” No one would ever admit to being one.

” ‘Janjaweed’ is a catchall phrase that means different things to different people,” said William Patey, the British ambassador to Sudan. “We need to be specific about what we mean, namely bandits, tribal militias or elements of the popular defense forces.”

Not all of the Arab fighters one encounters in Darfur have followed the government’s script. Some are loyal only to themselves, roaming the countryside as criminals always have and taking advantage of the chaos. They take on anyone they encounter, including other Janjaweed.

As for the convicts squatting in the dirt in Nyala’s jail, there were drug dealers, murderers and thieves. Just who was a Janjaweed militiaman remained a matter of interpretation.

None of the men would acknowledge having been a part of the loose bands of Arab fighters. It was far easier to pick out who had nothing to do with Darfur’s current chaos. There were prisoners who had been arrested two, three, even four years ago. Many others were picked up for the kinds of theft, killing and other crime that has always been a part of this long-neglected part of Sudan.

There were six men, including two fathers and their sons, who were accused torching a village north of Nyala called Haloof, killing 23 villagers, wounding 9 others and stealing all of the residents’ cows and goats.

“They say I am a Janjaweed,” said Suleiman Muhammad Shariff, 74, an elder in an Arab tribe accused of attacking Haloof. “It’s not true.”

Only the villagers who have been the victims of the Janjaweed’s wrath, who have heard their horses coming and experienced their ruthless attacks, seem to have no trouble identifying the militiamen.

“A Janjaweed came right over my fence, pointed a gun at me and took my horse,” said Abdallah Ibrahim, who was robbed last weekend right inside a camp for displaced people in Geneina, a town near Sudan’s border with Chad. The very same day, another woman was shot by a man she considered a Janjaweed in the same camp. He made away with her cow.

Earlier that day a teenage boy was shot in the foot after three Janjaweed accosted him as he tended cattle outside the same settlement. They made away with the entire herd.

As Darfur is now, a fifth of the population has been displaced and is living in such camps. Most have been stripped of their belongings. Their villages have been torched to the ground. How many bodies remain buried in Darfur remains an unknown, although estimates range from 30,000 to five times that.

There have long been tribal clashes in Darfur between Arab animal herders and the black Africans who plant crops in the dry soil. Their different livelihoods have led to disputes over land, over stolen animals, over any number of infractions.

“We are camel herders, and we have always had guns to defend ourselves,” said Juma Dagalow Musa, a tribal leader north of Nyala, where torched villages dot the landscape for miles.

Mr. Musa said he was no Janjaweed but understood why Arab tribes had friction with the black Africans. His tribe lost 1,400 camels in February and March of this year, he said, all pilfered by armed rebels from black African tribes. “We wanted to go recover them,” he said, insisting that he had persuaded his tribal fighters to stay put.

Many fighters, all over Darfur, could not be contained.

The United States government has begun preparing a list of Janjaweed leaders, relying on information culled from private relief organizations working in Darfur. Others in Darfur are tallying their own informal Janjaweed rosters.

“There is no shortage of names,” said one official who is tracking them. “There are thousands of them, but how many thousands is anybody’s guess.”

At one squatter settlement in the remote reaches of Northern Darfur, a man who was forced from his village by the Janjaweed months ago keeps his own tally of local Janjaweed leaders, names he receives from word of mouth from area villagers.

The man, who whispered his name but insisted that it not appear in print, disappeared into a tiny makeshift hut and came out holding a well-worn notebook that he keeps hidden from the local authorities. He has become the camp’s security monitor, a fact that he keeps quiet when government officials are around. He writes down Janjaweed offenses.

On July 14 a group of Janjaweed on camels and horses stole 30 animals. The next day a group of Janjaweed came near the camp and fired their guns into the air to prevent some people from collecting firewood. Two days later Janjaweed intimidated some people trying to plant seeds near the camp by firing into the air. The next day Janjaweed returned and stole 80 goats and a donkey.

At the top of this man’s Janjaweed list was Musa Hilal, one of the men whose names Pierre-Richard Prosper, the American ambassador for war crimes issues, uttered in testimony before Congress. Mr. Hilal is said to control thousands of fighters and to enjoy close relations with top government officials.

“Musa Hilal is the man behind the Janjaweed around here,” said the villager who logs the attacks.

Mr. Hilal, a tribal leader from farther north, in El Fasher, admits that he has rallied his Arab tribe’s vast network of fighters against black Africans. But in conversations with reporters and diplomats, he rejects the term Janjaweed, which he says applies to outlaws, not agents of the government like him. ” ‘Janjaweed’ is an insult,” he told Reuters.

Mr. Hilal says he is acting on behalf of the government, protecting Arabs against the black African rebels. “They rebelled, threatened us, tried to sow discord between us,” he said. “We retaliated, and we are criminals?”

Caught in the middle of the conflict have been villagers going about their lives. They accuse Mr. Hilal’s militias of torching their huts and killing indiscriminately, as well as raping and looting at will. He says his fighters have focused their efforts on rebels, not civilians.

One thing is clear: it will be difficult for the government to turn back the clock in Darfur and take away all of the guns. Many allies of the Janjaweed are allies of the government, not people the authorities in Khartoum will be inclined to offend.

Perhaps more realistic than total disarmament, elders in Darfur say, is some kind of truce, but even that remains a tricky prospect, particularly given that there are countless Janjaweed militiamen whose identities are uncertain.

“Those are Janjaweed,” a black African villager said along the main street in the town of Kitum, pointing to a pickup truck roaring past with men piled into the back. The truck was outfitted with a high-caliber gun, and many of the men wore camouflage.