Madam Speaker, I would like to submit for the Record an excellent article written by Mr. Jeffrey Gettleman of The New York Times June 18, 2007 entitled ``In Ethiopia, Fear and Cries of Army Brutality.'' It is about the forgotten people of…
Madam Speaker, I would like to submit for the Record an excellent article written by Mr. Jeffrey Gettleman of The New York Times June 18, 2007 entitled ``In Ethiopia, Fear and Cries of Army Brutality.'' It is about the forgotten people of the Ogaden and accurately describes in great detail the systematic abuses against civilians by the Ethiopian government security forces.
In the Ogaden Desert, Ethiopia.--The rebels march 300
strong across the crunchy earth, young men with dreadlocks
and AK-47s slung over their shoulders.
Often when they pass through a village, the entire village
lines up, one sunken cheekbone to the next, to squint at
them.
``May God bring you victory,'' one woman whispered.
This is the Ogaden, a spindle-legged corner of Ethiopia
that the urbane officials in Addis Ababa, the capital, would
rather outsiders never see. It is the epicenter of a
separatist war pitting impoverished nomads against one of the
biggest armies in Africa.
What goes on here seems to be starkly different from the
carefully constructed up-and-coming image that Ethiopia--a
country that the United States increasingly relies on to
fight militant Islam in the Horn of Africa--tries to project.
In village after village, people said they had been
brutalized by government troops. They described a widespread
and longstanding reign of terror, with Ethiopian soldiers
gang-raping women, burning down huts and killing civilians at
will.
It is the same military that the American government helps
train and equip--and provides with prized intelligence. The
two nations have been allies for years, but recently they
have grown especially close, teaming up last winter to oust
an Islamic movement that controlled much of Somalia and rid
the region of a potential terrorist threat.
The Bush administration, particularly the military,
considers Ethiopia its best bet in the volatile Horn--which,
with Sudan, Somalia and Eritrea, is fast becoming intensely
violent, virulently anti-American and an incubator for
terrorism.
But an emerging concern for American officials is the way
that the Ethiopian military operates inside its own borders,
especially in war zones like the Ogaden.
Anab, a 40-year-old camel herder who was too frightened,
like many others, to give her last name, said soldiers took
her to a police station, put her in a cell and twisted her
nipples with pliers. She said government security forces
routinely rounded up young women under the pretext that they
were rebel supporters so they could bring them to jail and
rape them.
``Me, I am old,'' she said, ``but they raped me, too.''
Moualin, a rheumy-eyed elder, said Ethiopian troops stormed
his village, Sasabene, in January looking for rebels and
burned much of it down. ``They hit us in the face with the
hardest part of their guns,'' he said.
The villagers said the abuses had intensified since April,
when the rebels attacked a Chinese-run oil field, killing
nine Chinese workers and more than 60 Ethiopian soldiers and
employees. The Ethiopian government has vowed to crush the
rebels but rejects all claims that it abuses civilians.
``Our soldiers are not allowed to do these kinds of
things,'' said Nur Abdi Mohammed, a government spokesman.
``This is only propaganda and cannot be justified. If a
government soldier did this type of thing they would be
brought before the courts.''
Even so, the State Department, the European Parliament and
many human rights groups, mostly outside Ethiopia, have cited
thousands of cases of torture, arbitrary detention and
extrajudicial killings--enough to raise questions in Congress
about American support of the Ethiopian government.
``This is a country that is abusing its own people and has
no respect for democracy,'' said Representative Donald M.
Payne, Democrat of New Jersey and chairman of the House
Foreign Affairs subcommittee on Africa and global health.
``We've not only looked the other way but we've pushed them
to intrude in other sovereign nations,'' he added, referring
to the satellite images and other strategic help the American
military gave Ethiopia in December, when thousands of
Ethiopian troops poured into Somalia and overthrew the
Islamist leadership.
According to Georgette Gagnon, deputy director for the
Africa division of Human Rights Watch, Ethiopia is one of the
most repressive countries in Africa.
``What the Ethiopian security forces are doing,'' she said,
``may amount to crimes against humanity.''
Human Rights Watch issued a report in 2005 that documented
a rampage by government troops against members of the Anuak,
a minority tribe in western Ethiopia, in which soldiers
ransacked homes, beat villagers to death with iron bars and
in one case, according to a witness, tied up a prisoner and
ran over him with a military truck.
After the report came out, the researcher who wrote it was
banned by the Ethiopian government from returning to the
country. Similarly, three New York Times journalists who
visited the Ogaden to cover this story were imprisoned for
five days and had all their equipment confiscated before
being released without charges.
Ethiopia's Tiananmen Square
In many ways, Ethiopia has a lot going for it these days:
new buildings, new roads, low crime and a booming trade in
cut flowers and coffee. It is the second most populous
country in sub-Saharan Africa, behind Nigeria, with 77
million people.
Its leaders, many whom were once rebels themselves, from a
neglected patch of northern Ethiopia, are widely known as
some of the savviest officials on the continent. They had
promised to let some air into a very stultified political
system during the national elections of 2005, which were
billed as a milestone on the road to democracy.
Instead, they turned into Ethiopia's version of Tiananmen
Square. With the opposition poised to win a record number of
seats in Parliament, the government cracked down brutally,
opening fire on demonstrators, rounding up tens of thousands
of opposition supporters and students and leveling charges of
treason and even attempted to kill top opposition leaders,
including the man elected mayor of Addis Ababa.
Many opposition members are now in jail or in exile. The
rest seem demoralized.
``There are no real steps toward democracy,'' said Merera
Gudina, vice president of the United Ethiopian Democratic
Forces, a leading opposition party. ``No real steps toward
opening up space, no real steps toward ending repression.''
Ethiopian officials have routinely dismissed such
complaints, accusing political protesters of stoking civil
unrest and poking their finger into a well/known sore spot.
Ethiopia has always had an authoritarian streak. This is a
country, after all, where until the 1970s rulers claimed to
be direct descendants of King Solomon. It is big, poor,
famine/stricken, about half/Christian and half/Muslim,
surrounded by hostile enemies and full of heavily armed
separatist factions. As one high/ranking Ethiopian official
put it, ``This country has never been easy to rule.''
That has certainly been true for the Ogaden desert, a huge,
dagger/shaped chunk of territory between the highlands of
Ethiopia and the border of Somalia. The people here are
mostly ethnic Somalis, and they have been chafing against
Ethiopian rule since 1897, when the British ceded their
claims to the area.
The colonial officials did not think the Ogaden was worth
much. They saw thorny hills and thirsty people. Even today,
it is still like that. What passes for a town is a huddle of
bubble-shaped huts, the movable homes of camel-thwacking
nomads who somehow survive out here. For roads, picture Tonka
truck tracks running through a sandbox. The primary elements
in this world are skin and bone and sun and rock. And guns.
Loads of them.
Camel herders carry rifles to protect their animals. Young
women carry pistols to protect their bodies. And then there
is the Ogaden National Liberation Front, the machine-gun-
toting rebels fighting for control of this desiccated
wasteland.
Rebels Live Off the Land
Lion. Radio. Fearless. Peacock. Most of the men have
nicknames that conceal their real identities. Peacock, who
spoke some English, served as a guide. He shared the bitter
little plums the soldiers pick from thorn bushes--``Ogaden
chocolate,'' he called them. He showed the way to gently skim
water from the top of a mud puddle to minimize the amount of
dirt that ends up in your stomach--even in the rainy season
this is all there is to drink.
He pointed out the anthills, the coming storm clouds, the
especially ruthless thorn trees and even a graveyard that
stood incongruously in the middle of the desert. The graves--
crude pyramids of stones--were from the war in 1977-78, when
Somalia tried, disastrously, to pry the Ogaden out of
Ethiopia's hands and lost thousands of men. ``It's up to us
now,'' Peacock said.
Peacock was typical of the rebels. He was driven by anger.
He said Ethiopian soldiers hanged his mother, raped his
sister and beat his father. ``I know, it's hard to believe,''
he said. ``But it's true.''
He had the hunch of a broken man and a voice that seemed
far too tired for his 28 years. ``It's not that I like living
in the bush,'' he said. ``But I have nowhere else to go.''
The armed resistance began in 1994, after the Ogaden
National Liberation Front, then a political organization,
broached the idea of splitting off from Ethiopia. The central
government responded by imprisoning Ogadeni leaders, and
according to academics and human rights groups, assassinating
others. The Ogaden is part of the Somali National Regional
State, one of nine ethnic-based states within Ethiopia's
unusual ethnic-based federal system. On paper, all states
have the right to secede, if they follow the proper
procedures. But it seemed that the government feared that if
the Somalis broke away, so too would the Oromos, the Afar and
many other ethnic groups pining for a country of their own.
The Ethiopian government calls the Ogaden rebels terrorists
and says they are armed and trained by Eritrea, Ethiopia's
neighbor and bitter enemy. One of the reasons Ethiopia
decided to invade Somalia was to prevent the rebels from
using it as a base.
The government blames them for a string of recent bombings
and assassinations and says they often single out rival clan
members. Ethiopian officials have been pressuring the State
Department to add the Ogaden National Liberation Front to its
list of designated foreign terrorist organizations. Until
recently, American officials refused, saying the rebels had
not threatened civilians or American interests.
``But after the oil field attack in April,'' said one
American official who spoke on the condition of anonymity,
``we are reassessing that.''
American policy toward Ethiopia seems to be in flux.
Administration officials are trying to increase the amount of
nonhumanitarian aid to Ethiopia to $481 million next year,
from $284 million this year. But key Democrats in Congress,
including Mr. Payne, are questioning this, saying that
because of Ethiopia's human rights record, it is time to stop
writing the country a blank check.
In April, European Commission officials began investigating
Ethiopia for war crimes in connection to hundreds of Somali
civilians killed by Ethiopian troops during heavy fighting in
Mogadishu, Somalia's capital.
Women Are Suffering the Most
In the Ogaden, it is not clear how many people are dying.
The vast area is essentially a no-go zone for most human
rights workers and journalists and where the Ethiopian
military, by its own admission, is waging an intense
counterinsurgency campaign.
The violence has been particularly acute against women,
villagers said, and many have recently fled.
Asma, 19, who now lives in neighboring Somaliland, said she
was stuck in an underground cell for more than six months
last year, raped and tortured. ``They beat me on the feet and
breasts,'' she said. She was freed only after her father paid
the soldiers ransom, she said, though she did not know how
much.
Ambaro, 25, now living in Addis Ababa, said she was gang-
raped by five Ethiopian soldiers in January near the town of
Fik. She said troops came to her village every night to pluck
another young woman.
``I'm in pain now, all over my body,'' she said. ``I'm
worried that I'll become crazy because of what happened.''
Many Ogaden villagers said that when they tried to bring up
abuses with clan chiefs or local authorities, they were told
it was better to keep quiet.
The rebels said that was precisely why they attacked the
Chinese oil field: to get publicity for their cause and the
plight of their region (and to discourage foreign companies
from exploiting local resources). According to them, they
strike freely in the Ogaden all the time, ambushing military
convoys and raiding police stations.
Mr. Mohammed, the government spokesman, denied that, saying
the rebels ``will not confront Ethiopian military forces
because they are not well trained.''
Expert or not, they are determined. They march for hours
powered by a few handfuls of rice. They travel extremely
light, carrying only their guns, two clips of bullets, a
grenade and a tarp. They brag about how many Ethiopians they
have killed, and every piece of their camouflage, they say,
is pulled off dead soldiers. They joke about slaughtering
Ethiopian troops the same way they slaughter goats.
Their morale seems high, especially for men who sleep in
the dirt every night. Their throats are constantly dry, but
they like to sing.
``A camel is delivering a baby today and the milk of the
camel is coming,'' goes one campfire song. ``Who is the owner
of this land?''