Please join the War Crimes Research Office on Tuesday, September 12 at 12:00 PM at the Washington College of Law (Warren N104) for a discussion with Dan Plesch, Director of the Centre for International Studies and Diplomacy at the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, on his new book, Human Rights After Hitler: The Lost History of Prosecuting Axis War Crimes. The book examines thousands of forgotten US and Allied war crimes prosecutions against Nazi leaders and other Axis war criminals based on a popular movement for justice that stretched from Poland to the Pacific. Together with the Nuremberg trials and postwar conventions, these cases provide a great foundation for twenty-first-century prosecutions of grave crimes. Lunch will be provided. Please RSVP using the Google form :https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdm9bNurrS2yhyW_1FCyrZcLdkvIl0h6rc4eNYqJFtXNyxUqQ/viewform For any questions about the discussion, please contact warcrimes@wcl.american.edu. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 War Crimes Research Office

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Her Excellency Ton Sa-Im, Under-Secretary of State, Ministry of Education, Youth and Sport, and the Documentation Center of Cambodia invite you to a press conference for the launch of the new educational website: JOIN US FOR THE UNVEILING OF A NEW WEBSITE FOR YOUNG PEOPLE ON KHMER ROUGE HISTORY. www.khmerrougehistory.org The multimedia website aims to keep history alive and relevant to all Cambodians, 70 percent of whom were born after the Khmer Rouge era, through historical videos, audio and photos from the world's largest Khmer Rouge archive. The site will be dynamic and interactive, updated with the latest in Khmer Rouge studies and linked to a dedicated Facebook page to allow people to share their thoughts about the Khmer Rouge and their families' own stories. Welcome Address: Her Excellency Ton Sa-Im, Under-Secretary of State, Ministry of Education, Youth and Sport. Other speakers: Farina So, Director of Research of the Documentation Center of Cambodia Sabina Casagrande, Country Manager for Cambodia, DW Akademie Kyle James, Consultant, DW Akademie Visitors will be able to try out the website themselves after which there will be a Q&A session. Light refreshments will be served. Please confirm your attendance by Wednesday, September 6, 2017 to: Pheng Pong Rasy, Team Leader of Genocide Education in Cambodia of the Documentation Center of Cambodia (truthrasy.p@dccam.org) or Chandara Sor, DW Akademie (Chandara.Sor@dw.com). This website was created with help from the German media development organization DW Akademie through support by the German Federal Ministry for Economic Cooperation and Development (BMZ); as well as the core support from the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) and collaboration with the Ministry of Education, Youth and Sport. _________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 DCCAM

The crisis that has engulfed Burundi since April 2015 is the result of infighting among a small number of insiders belonging to the ruling party, the CNDD-FDD. Having all fought in the bush together, some of them felt that the president, Pierre Nkurunziza, should make way for others to have a turn at the top job, and refused to accept his plan to rule for life. Most senior members of the regime were and remain officers, having joined the new army at senior ranks after the civil war. The government presents a civilian veneer to the outside world, but it has always been military at heart. Although its rank and file were not involved in these internecine struggles, it was inevitable that the military would be drawn into the crisis, most dramatically in the failed coup attempt of May 2015. Since then, tit-for-tat assassinations have pitted regime loyalists against real or supposed opponents, and a climate of fear has enveloped the army. A post-war success? The history of the Burundian army sheds light on recent developments. It was created in its current form in 2004 as a merger of Hutu rebel groups and the old Tutsi-dominated army, who had fought each other to a standstill in the ten-year long civil war (1993-2003). Benefiting from heavy international support, Burundi’s military was presented as a big success of the country’s post-war reconstruction. This had some foundation. Training and fighting abroad together did improve the army’s esprit de corps. This helps explain why, despite ongoing violence, the army is not in open factional warfare. However, gains made by training and deployment had their limits. The senior ranks are still part of a violent and corrupt regime operating with zero-sum political mentality. Parallel chains of command reach up to the presidency, wielding great power, undermining formal structures and sowing distrust. The main factor that has kept the new army together is, unsurprisingly in such a poor country, money. And the source of the money has been international peacekeeping operations. Participation in UN and AU operations is one of the five missions of the new army, according to its own founding texts. Deploying to Somalia From December 2007, the Burundian army has been deployed in the largest military operation in Africa: the African mission in Somalia, AMISOM. The size of the Burundian contingent (around 5,000) and the length of time deployed means that nearly all Burundian soldiers and officers have done at least one tour. Participation in AMISOM has brought international training opportunities and the chance to deploy elsewhere, notably in the UN operation in the Central African Republic. Salaries in Burundi range from $80 per month for troops to $250-300 per month for senior officers. But AMISOM soldiers got, up to the end of 2015, $1,032 a month. Combined with some other perks such as preferential loan rates, this was enough for many soldiers to buy land or property, start a family, or help their community. Meanwhile, death in duty benefits, at $50,000, are a fortune by Burundian standards. Interestingly these are a flat rate for all. Despite the considerable risks, there is certainly no shortage of volunteers for posts in AMISOM. Up to 2016, the Burundian government took $200 from each monthly pay package for running costs. This is not an unimportant sum, especially since donors started pulling out of the country in 2015. But the main benefit for the government lies in the money the soldiers receive, which allows them to keep 25,000 former rebels and troops happy regardless of how the country is run or how well the government’s own budget is spent. Calling the EU’s bluff Following instability of the 1990s, Burundi is one of several African countries (along with Chad, Uganda, Rwanda) using or have used deployment in international operations to improve a country’s international image; gain leverage over donors who see international operations as a priority; and buy off potential internal dissent. So far so simple. But what happens if the political strains of authoritarian rule threaten the democratic image of the country? This question, almost existential for the regime in Bujumbura, was raised by the EU’s decision, in March 2016, to withhold its payments to Burundian troops in AMISOM. The EU has long paid all troop salaries for AMISOM, although had reduced the amount paid from $1,032 to $800 in late-2015 (for reasons not connected to Burundi). The March 2016 decision was motivated by the EU’s decision that Burundi was failing to meet its obligations concerning democracy and respect for human rights. Burundi reacted, predictably enough, by threatening to pull its troops out of AMISOM. The EU, its bluff called, came to an arrangement, through the AU, to continue to pay Burundian troops, with the appearance of bypassing the government and preventing it from taking its cut for running costs. A risky strategy This episode tells us that the leverage that troop-contributing countries have over donors is very real. The Burundian contingent, considered effective, was seen, at least in the short term, as irreplaceable. And international interests in the mission in Somalia far outweigh any desire to exercise leverage over Burundian authorities. At the back of the mind of many European officials was also the question: if we stop payments to Burundian troops and they go home, could it have a de-stabilising effect on the country? But the longer term is less certain. The level of EU support to AMISOM is controversial in Brussels where British officials have fought long and hard against a French desire to redirect European spending towards the West African Sahel. Even without the UK leaving the Union, support for AMISOM would have been under great pressure. And meanwhile, the AU is locked in lengthy negotiations concerning how to finance itself from member state contributions. The international partners who supported the Burundian army between 2004 and 2015 are the same as those who have supported AMISOM – namely, the EU, its member states, and the US. Motivated in large part by a desire to generate troops for AMISOM and other missions, they presumably accepted that calculations of how large an army Burundi could sustain would be based in part on participation in missions abroad. But this left little room for consideration of the merits of heavily funding an army in a country run by an increasingly authoritarian regime. And now, the new international environment, with a financial squeeze in Europe, a more restrictive US position concerning UN peacekeeping, and ongoing concerns over Burundi’s human rights record makes relying on peacekeeping to fund the Burundian army a risky strategy. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 International Crisis Group

About 164,000 Rohingya Muslims have poured into Bangladesh from Myanmar's Rakhine state since violence erupted two weeks ago. They say the military and Rakhine Buddhists are destroying their villages to drive them out after attacks by Rohingya militants on police posts. The government rejects this, saying the militants and Muslim residents are burning their own villages. But the BBC's South East Asia correspondent Jonathan Head says he saw a Muslim village that had just been set on fire, apparently by a group of Rakhine Buddhists. Here he describes what he witnessed: I am part of a group of journalists invited by the Myanmar government to see the situation on the ground in Maungdaw. The conditions for us joining this trip are that we stay in the group and do not go off independently, and we are taken to places the government chooses for us. Requests to go to other areas of interest, even nearby, were rejected as being unsafe. We were returning from a visit to the town of Al Le Than Kyaw, south of Maungdaw, which is still smoking, suggesting houses have been recently set alight. The police said it was the Muslim inhabitants who burned their own homes, although most fled after militants from the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army attacked the police post in the town on 25 August. While there we saw at least three columns of smoke in the distance to the north, and heard sporadic automatic weapons fire. On our way back we saw a large column of smoke rising from a cluster of trees in the rice fields - usually a sign of a village. We got out and raced across the fields to reach it. We could see the first buildings in the village ablaze, but only just. Houses in these villages burn to ash in 20-30 minutes. It was obvious the fires had just been lit. As we walked in, a group of young, muscular men carrying machetes, swords and sling-shots were walking out. We tried to ask them questions but they refused to be filmed. However, my Myanmar colleagues did speak to them away from the cameras and they said they were Rakhine Buddhists. One of them admitted he had lit the fires, and said he had help from the police. As we walked further in, we saw the Madrasa (Islamic religious school) with its roof only just on fire. Flames licked up the sides of another house opposite; within three minutes it was an inferno. There was was no-one else in the village. These men we saw were the perpetrators. Household goods were strewn across the path; children's toys, women's clothing. We saw one empty jug reeking of petrol and another with a little fuel left in it in the middle of the path. By the time we walked out, all the burned houses were smouldering, blackened ruins. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 BBC News

Rohingya refugees are fleeing to Bangladesh amid sustained persecution Mohammad Ponir Hossain/Reuters Horrified Rohingya women and children flee the burning villages as Myanmar's army intensifies it's campaign of persecution against the minority. Yangon presents its offensive as reasonable action against militant groups operating in the Rakhine state. However, satellite images show villages burned to the ground suggesting that the damage and scale of human rights abuses is more severe than has been told. But while international pressure mounts upon Nobel peace prize winner Aung Sun Suu Kyi to stop what some are calling war crimes, Myanmar's army chief has continually defended his forces' actions against the Rohingya people. Speaking at a press conference in the country's capital, he blamed the crisis on the need to complete "unfinished business" left over from World War Two. Without absolving the present Myanmar government of responsibility for what is happening in the country, looking at the nation's history it’s important to see how colonialism laid the groundwork for what appear to be ongoing massacres. In 1948 British Rule ended in Burma; the military regime thus began to create a new sense of nationhood, during which the scapegoating of the Rohingya started manifesting within the Myanmar public. Visibly different from the Burmese due to their darker skin colour and religion, the popular myth is that Rohingya communities came from Bangladesh. In fact though, they have deep historical and ancestral roots belonging to the postcolonial borders of Myanmar. Similarities with Bangladeshi communities is natural due to Arakan neighbouring the Bangladeshi province of Chittagong: indeed, the separation of these provinces and the implementation of borders were a product of colonial rule. The British had actually promised independence to the Rohingya during the war with Japan, though the promise was subsequently revoked. Predicting the escalating tensions between the Rohingya and other Burmese ethnic communities, some Rohingyas even petitioned for them to be included into East Pakistan (now known as Bangladesh) during the 1947 partition. However this article isn’t here to go into the details of post-colonial identities – no factors should on any grounds de-legitimise the Rohingyas right to citizenship today or their entitlement to basic humans rights within Myanmar. The historical progression of the present persecution can be traced back to 1962 when a military coup swept to power. In order to establish a mandate for them to rule, they began to use religion as an indication of whether one was a proper citizen of the state, exploiting Buddhism to justify their nationalism. In 1974, the Rohingyas had their identity stripped and were classified as “foreigners” by the state. This led to large numbers of Rohingyas fleeing to neighbouring countries, escaping violence which this legislation appeared to justify. In 1982 the Citizenship law was enacted, not only excluding the Rohingya from attaining citizenship but also denying them the right to live in Myanmar unless they had solid evidence to show their ancestors lived there prior to independence - even though such citizenship documents for most communities are impossible to obtain. Known as illegal Bangladeshi immigrants, Myanmar authorities refuse to use the term Rohingya, legitimising the systematic erasure of the Rohingya as an identity. In 2013, Win Myaing, the official spokesperson of the Rakhine State Government said “How can it be ethnic cleansing? They are not an ethnic group.” By referring to them as Bangladeshi Muslims the state not only presents them as a symbol of Muslim invasion (which is seen as a global problem) but also as the “Bengali Muslim”, which has been constructed as an ethnically inferior identity and used throughout the Indian subcontinent to justify and legitimise genocide, whether within the Bangladeshi Liberation War or the Nellie massacre in Assam, India. Violence has been escalating dangerously after the 2012 Rakhine State riots, with thousands killed and more than 125,000 Rohingya Muslims displaced. Since then more than 140,000 Rohingyas have been forced to flee Myanmar altogether, becoming refugees in neighbouring countries, facing different levels of prejudices within Bangladesh, India, Thailand and Malaysia. Earlier this year more than 1,000 Rohingya were killed in a new crackdown by the Myanmar state, say UN officials. The Rohingya also describe military tactics of systematic rape being used against them. Myanmar’s government and military now stand accused of war crimes. The international community meanwhile refuses to act; and the British government has blood on its hands after selling more than half a million pounds worth of weapons to Myanmar over the past three years. Boris Johnson’s cowardly response as the Foreign Secretary only further idolised a woman who passes off allegations of genocide as "fake news". The Rohingya need urgent action; most are living in refugee camps, denied citizenship, basic health care and employment Put bluntly, the destruction of an ethnic group is genocide and the continual indifference by the international community only enables and legitimises Myanmar's violence. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 Independent

Hate speech and death threats directed against international aid workers in the wake of the latest violence in Myanmar's western Rakhine state has threatened operations, further imperiling more than 100,000 displaced Rohingya PHOTO BY: EVANGELOS PETRATOS / ECHO / CC BY-NC-ND The threats and vitriolic attack have mounted in the week since the office of Aung San Suu Kyi claimed development workers had aided "terrorists" in Rakhine state. On August 30, the official Facebook page of the state counsellor office, which is headed by Suu Kyi, posted photos of U.N. World Food Programme biscuits, as well as U.S. Agency for International Development parcels, which the office claims were found in a "terrorist" camp. National Security Adviser Thaung Tun reiterated accusations of aid worker involvement by saying that ammonia and tubes used by development workers for construction had been turned into explosives. Despite denials and condemnation by WFP and the U.S. ambassador to Myanmar, the photos and comments have gone viral in the country, where social media has played a significant role in stoking anti-Rohingya sentiment. Such hate speech is prompting concerns among the international humanitarian community for the well-being and safety of their local staff and colleagues in the field where clashes have erupted between Rohingya militants and government troops. "The poisonous online atmosphere has made it particularly dangerous for humanitarians in Rakhine state from both the U.N. and the civil society groups," said Phil Robertson, the deputy Asia director at Human Rights Watch, adding that hate speech is being perpetuated not just by the general Burmese public, but also by local staff from the U.N. and NGOs. _________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 devex

Executive Summary The August 2017 attacks by al-Yaqin or Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA), which the Myanmar government has designated a terrorist organisation, have pushed Rakhine state into renewed crisis. They also are being used by radical Buddhist nationalists in the rest of the country to promote their agenda. While dynamics at play in Rakhine are mostly driven by local fears and grievances, the current crisis has led to a broader spike in anti-Muslim sentiment, raising anew the spectre of communal violence across the country that could imperil the country’s transition. Since the start of the political liberalisation in 2011, Myanmar has been troubled by an upsurge in extreme Buddhist nationalism, anti-Muslim hate speech and deadly communal violence, not only in Rakhine state but across the country. The most prominent nationalist organisation is the Association for the Protection of Race and Religion (commonly referred to by its Burmese-language acronym, MaBaTha), made up of monks, nuns and laypeople. The government has focused considerable effort on curtailing this group and pushing the top Buddhist authority in Myanmar to ban it. Yet these efforts have been largely ineffective at weakening the appeal of nationalist narratives and organisations, and have probably even enhanced them. However uncomfortable it may be, a more nuanced understanding of the sources of social support for MaBaTha, as opposed to simplistic one-dimensional portrayals, is vital if the government and Myanmar’s international partners are to find effective ways to address the challenges posed by radical nationalism and reduce risks of violence. The nature of MaBaTha and the extent of its popularity are widely misunderstood, including by the government. Far from being an organisation narrowly focused on political or anti-Muslim goals, it sees itself – and is viewed by many of its supporters – as a broad-based social and religious movement dedicated above all else to the protection and promotion of Buddhism at a time of unparalleled change and uncertainty in a country and society where historically Buddhism and the state have been inseparable. While State Counsellor Aung San Suu Kyi and her National League for Democracy party command enormous respect and support in the political realm, there is a widespread nationalist perception that they have a generally Western liberal outlook that privileges minority rights and diversity (including religious diversity) over protection of the Buddhist faith – notwithstanding the fact that many minorities feel that the government is not taking account of their concerns. Efforts by the government to crack down on MaBaTha have only amplified the perception that they are weak protectors of the faith. If the government makes good on its threat to declare MaBaTha an unlawful association, there will be severe, likely violent, reverberations across the country. MaBaTha is led by widely-revered and charismatic monks who have far greater legitimacy on religious issues in the eyes of many Myanmar Buddhists than the government or state religious authorities. MaBaTha also appeals to a broad range of people, including those who oppose its forays into party politics or hate speech, through its engagement in a wide range of “good causes” at the community level – from Buddhist Sunday schools, social service and secular education provision to legal aid and disaster relief. Nowhere is this clearer than in the strong support for MaBaTha among nuns and numerous laywomen’s organisations – despite MaBaTha’s support for what many see as misogynistic objectives such as laws that restrict women’s right to marry whom they choose. For many – male and female – MaBaTha provides not only a powerful, well-funded channel for participation in community-support activities, but also a sense of belonging and direction in a context of rapid societal change and few jobs or other opportunities for youth. In light of the realities of simmering intercommunal tensions and outbreaks of violence linked to hate speech and nationalist provocations, the stakes for the country are extremely high. Some prominent monks and laypeople within MaBaTha espouse extreme bigoted and anti-Muslim views, and incite or condone violence in the name of protecting race and religion. In a context of tense intercommunal relations, there is a real risk that these actions could contribute to major communal violence. The biggest threat may not be MaBaTha itself, but the dynamics it has created and individuals it has empowered that may be beyond its control. While the government must continue to take robust action against hate speech, incitement and violence, it is unlikely that confrontation and legal action will be effective in dealing with the broader phenomenon of Buddhist nationalism and groups such as MaBaTha. Indeed, these arguably may play to their advantage, given the wide resonance of MaBaTha narratives combined with the popularity of the community services provided under its banner. In Myanmar’s new, more democratic era, the debate over the proper place of Buddhism, and the role of political leadership in protecting it, is being recast. Given the deep, mutually legitimising historical relationship between the state and the clergy, this debate, which is unlikely to end soon, cannot be seen only in terms of politics and nationalism, divorced from moral and spiritual issues. The government should take control of the narrative by reframing, on its terms, the place of Buddhism in a more democratic context and setting out its own positive vision. In parallel, it should address the underlying grievances that lead people to support exclusionary nationalist narratives, which are partly economic. A much more visible focus on the economy would give people confidence that the government is prioritising better opportunities and jobs and a more prosperous future for ordinary people. The more that people can feel they have a role to play in this, and the more channels they have to do so outside nationalist networks, the greater their sense of control over their destiny. International development actors must also recognise the diverse social role of monasteries and nunneries, including those aligned with or sympathetic to MaBaTha, and find ways to positively influence their activities and promote credible alternative channels to problematic nationalist networks. Yangon/Brussels, 5 September 2017 I.Introduction Rising Buddhist nationalism and anti-Muslim violence in Myanmar since the start of the political transition in 2011 has prompted domestic and international concern. The largest Buddhist nationalist organisation, the Association for Protection of Race and Religion (known by its Burmese-language acronym, MaBaTha) enjoys widespread grassroots support despite government-led attempts to undermine its religious authority. Forays into party politics are controversial – even within MaBaTha – but its view that Buddhism is under threat is widely shared among Myanmar Buddhists. Many members and supporters also see the organisation as primarily focused on protection and promotion of Buddhism and provision of social services, complicating government efforts to ban or weaken MaBaTha. This report provides a detailed and nuanced understanding of the activities of MaBaTha and other nationalist groups as well as of the motivations and views of its members and supporters. Such understanding is indispensable in formulating effective policy responses. The report is based on six months of detailed research and interviews in 2017, including: interviews with high ranking members of MaBaTha and other nationalist groups; Buddhist monks and nuns who support MaBaTha; women’s groups that support MaBaTha; high ranking members of the National League for Democracy party; and civil society and human rights activists. The research also draws on Crisis Group observations of MaBaTha events and outreach activities, including rallies, dispute resolution activities, civic education, and gathering of signatures for petitions. Relevant academic and policy research has been reviewed, particularly where it draws on in-country interviews. Most of the primary interviews were conducted in the Burmese language; many of these were of female religious nationalists interviewed by female researchers. Interviews were carried out in both upper and lower parts of central Myanmar, as well as in Kayin state. The focus on female religious nationalists was deliberate, intended to shed light on an aspect of nationalism in Myanmar that is rarely studied or discussed, and because understanding the motivations and views of female nationalists challenges assumptions commonly-held domestically and internationally about Buddhist nationalism in the country. The report describes the rationales members have for their participation in MaBaTha and its activities. Whether or not these are cogent or fact-based, they are genuinely felt and therefore important to understand to design effective policy responses. The report does not provide a definitive account of MaBaTha membership, structure or activities, given the fluid nature of the organisation and ongoing changes in response to recent government and religious pressure. It also does not analyse the August 2017 attacks in Rakhine state by the militant group known as al-Yaqin or the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA) and the military’s response, which continued at the time of publication. This serious episode and its implications will be explored in a report to be published in the fall of 2017. II.Buddhist Nationalism in Myanmar and the Region A.Historical Roots in Myanmar 1.Kingdom and monarchy Rising religious nationalism is a global phenomenon, not unique to Myanmar.Although it often surprises and disheartens educated elites and local political activists, it can be seen in many democratic and democratising countries, including Myanmar’s neighbouring Buddhist countries. For instance, Thailand’s military junta has positioned itself as the defender of the faith to enhance its authority, and some of Sri Lanka’s major parties have co-opted religious nationalism to bolster their perceived legitimacy among the Sinhalese majority. The expression of religious nationalist views in Myanmar today is informed by the country’s historical legacy, particularly colonisation, regional demographic shifts and contemporary global politics. To many of the Burmese Buddhist majority, these factors suggest that the country’s religious and cultural well-being is at risk and that the current government is either unable or unwilling to address the sources of threat. There is also a strong millenarian current in Theravada Buddhism that the religion will inevitably decline and disappear, combined with a traditional worldview that sees the health of the religion and the strength of the polity as interdependent. This creates an imperati ve for members of the monastic community to lead pious and patriotic laymen and women in a campaign of “virtuous defence”. The relationship between the Sangha (the community of Buddhist monks) and state is one that many in Myanmar believe should be symbiotic. This does not mean that the state and the Sangha are expected to be allied. Rather, the secular authority may move to purge the Sangha if they become corrupted in some way, and the Sangha might similarly intervene in secular affairs if the government becomes ineffective, weak or abusive. This constant, delicate negotiation, and the deeply-rooted historical role of Buddhism in legitimising rulers and as a key pillar of the Myanmar state significantly complicate any attempts by the current government to challenge Buddhist nationalist organisations widely seen as protecting and promoting the faith. Attempts to undermine groups like MaBaTha on the basis that monks should not act politically largely miss the point. Most Myanmar Buddhists would prefer that monks not engage in secular, political affairs, but many see their doing so as a reflection of the government’s failings – not necessarily the Sangha’s. 2.British colonial period and independence The British conquest was a political and moral shock to Burmese society. The colonial state withdrew traditional state support for monasteries and disrupted village economies, another source of regular, sizeable donations, compounding the monasteries’ unprecedented struggles to finance their daily activities. Monastic communities were acutely affected by the period of instability and uncertainty between the British capture of lower Burma in 1852 and upper Burma in 1885, with the subsequent fall of the monarchy in Mandalay, ending a lineage of royal Buddhist patronage dating back more than a thousand years. The British move to divorce state administration from religion was seen by many Burmese Buddhists as a further sign that the teachings of the Buddha were in decline. This spurred laymen and women into action, with particular efforts to reinforce shared religious and cultural values of good manners and proper conduct. While there was some focus on the ways in which European customs actively insulted Buddhism (wearing shoes at pagodas quickly became a sensitive issue), far greater anxiety was expressed over the loss of religious and cultural education and discipline in Burmese Buddhist society: “[Boys] abandoned studying in the monasteries to attend government schools in hopes of a lucrative career as a clerk. The monks no longer held the same respect”. Most colonial government positions were filled by imported Indian bureaucrats – Hindus and Muslims – rather than local elites. Indian businessmen also came to dominate some sectors of the economy, and the Chettiar moneylenders (who were Hindu) were particularly despised for taking over vast tracts of land – including some 25 per cent of agricultural land in lower Burma – when farmers were unable to service their debts during the Great Depression. The resulting economic and power disparities and demographic shifts created enormous tensions between Burmese and Indians that came to a head in 1930 and again in 1938. The 1938 violence had a particular religious dimension. One of the triggers was a book published by an Indian Muslim author, reprinted with an attachment containing “highly disparaging references to Buddhism”. It is unclear whether religious or political provocateurs added this attachment, but it further inflamed communal and religious tensions. Demonstrators including monks demanded that the author be punished; if not, they threatened to treat Muslims as “enemy number one” and take action to “bring about the extermination of Muslims and the extinction of their religion and language”. Shortly after, The Sun newspaper published an inflammatory letter by a Buddhist monk recounting the sufferings of Burmese women married to Muslims, and noting that under customary law their children lost not only their religion but also their ethnic identity. Rumours spread that Muslims were preparing to destroy the revered Sule and Shwedagon pagodas, prompting 1,500 monks from the All Burma Council of Young Monks to attack Muslims and loot and burn their shops in the markets. Some monasteries became armed sanctuaries and storage space for loot, contrary to monastic rules. More than 4,000 people were arrested, including monks accused of violence, arson and murder. Anti-colonial movements often focused on religious and civic education rather than outright political mobilisation. The emergence of “Dhamma Schools” (Buddhist Sunday schools), currently a major focus of MaBaTha, can be traced to this period as part of an effort to stem both the loss of Buddhist culture and growing religious antipathy among youth. The Buddhist Young Men’s Association became a focus for efforts to preserve Buddhist Burmese culture under British rule and eventually factionalised over a disagreement about whether or not to participate in politics more explicitly. Even today, secular schools teach “civic education” based heavily on Buddhist precepts and values, rather than governance and rule of law. When a local NGO recently published a series of civic education textbooks that promoted religious literacy and included information on the basic tenets of four major faiths (including Buddhism), it prompted a nationalist outcry with claims it was an attempt at “Islamisation” and “religious colonialism in the name of education” followed by demands that children should be taught only about Buddhism. 3.Patriotism and religion At the end of the First World War, anti-colonial leaders established Wunthanu (patriotic) organisations throughout the country to mobilise the largely uneducated rural population in support of the nationalist movement. The emphasis on restoring traditional Buddhist values struck a chord with many village women who had lost their occupations and legal rights under colonial rule. In November 1919, an elite women’s patriotic organisation, Wunthanu Konmari, was established with around 300 members, led by the wives and female relatives of prominent male nationalists as well as women entrepreneurs. Colonial authorities were concerned about women’s involvement in the Wunthanu movement, fearing that it would further boost nationalist sentiment. In 1923, the governor of Burma reportedly stated that “the influence of women on politics in many countries has made for nationalism, and so far as I can gather it is making for it in Burma”.Since education was a prerequisite for women’s enfranchisement, nationalist leaders became some of the strongest advocates for female education. The way that colonial Burma was governed further solidified the role of Buddhism in the national identity. In particular, the British decision to implement indirect rule in ethnic minority border areas – leaving them under their own local chieftains – meant that minority communities were administratively separated from the central Burman state. The Burmese saw this as a way both to undermine the central state and promote the formation of separate ethnic identities, including non-Buddhist ones. The independence movement thus worked to unite the country under a shared (and Burmanised) culture that was heavily influenced by Buddhist values, though it favoured more revolutionary language. Resistance to the imposition of a Burman-Buddhist identity on a diverse country has been one of the drivers of the seven-decade civil war. Prime Minister Nu’s abortive attempts in the early 1960s to designate Buddhism as the state religion were divisive, and a factor behind the Kachin rebellion. They also drew criticism from Muslim and Christian religious leaders. The 2008 constitution treads a careful line, recognising the “special position of Buddhism as the faith professed by the great majority of the citizens” (section 361) while also acknowledging that “Christianity, Islam, Hinduism and Animism” have adherents in the country (section 362). There is a Ministry of Religious Affairs, established in 1948, which mainly deals with Buddhist affairs. B.Contemporary Drivers 1.Emergence of nationalism and violence Since the start of the political transition in 2011, Buddhist nationalism in Myanmar has become significantly more visible. As authoritarian controls were lifted after years of repression, deep-seated grievances emerged into the open, and new freedoms of expression allowed individuals and the media to give voice to these grievances in ways that were not possible before. Newly available telecommunications combined with access to social media accelerated the spread of nationalist narratives, rumours (often of sexual violence perpetrated by Muslims against Buddhist women) and hate speech. A wave of anti-Muslim violence swept across the country starting in June 2012. The question of what sustains these dynamics, and the particular focus on Islam, is more complex. Several factors contribute to a pervasive sense of existential angst shared by Myanmar’s Buddhist majority, including demographic fears, economic and cultural anxieties, and current regional dynamics. 2.Perceived demographic and religious threats Rakhine has long been the interface between Buddhist and Muslim Asia. There is a strong belief in Rakhine state and across Myanmar that if Buddhists in Rakhine had not protected the “Western Gate” of the country and held fast against demographic pressure from Muslim Bengal, then Myanmar and the rest of Buddhist South East Asia would have become Muslim long ago. Whether or not this claim is plausible, it is taken as true by many in Myanmar, driving fears of illegal immigration and demands that the Muslim Rohingya minority in Rakhine continue to be denied recognition and rights. This has been extended more broadly to include all Muslims in Myanmar, who are increasingly seen as interlopers – even those from recognised ethnic groups such as the Kaman. Thus, for example, none of the major parties fielded a single Muslim candidate in the 2015 elections, and most Muslim voters were disenfranchised. But nationalist narratives are not focused only on Rakhine. Many religious nationalists cite a mix of hyper-local incidents, such as conflicts over land, animal slaughter, or domestic abuse in addition to incidents such as the brutal rape and murder of a Muslim woman by Muslim men in Rakhine state in 2012, to justify their positions. Beyond demographic fears over the “Western Gate”, other oft-repeated narratives claim that Muslims across Myanmar are hoarding capital, buying up real-estate in town centres, using their wealth to woo and marry Buddhist women, then forcing their wives and children to convert to Islam through physical or economic pressure. Muslims often are described as a “cancer within”, and many Burman Buddhists with religious nationalist leanings agree that “a race does not face extinction by being swallowed into the earth, but from being swallowed up by another race”, an old Myanmar saying which is also the motto of the immigration ministry. Other nationalists feel that unlike other faiths, Muslims are unwilling to reciprocate the religious freedoms they demand, and therefore are a threat to Buddhism. These fears are strongly felt, notwithstanding that Muslims are in a small minority in Myanmar as a whole, comprising perhaps 4 per cent of the population, while Buddhists are 88 per cent and Christians 6 per cent. The debate over whether the current Myanmar government is able to provide for the spiritual needs of the Buddhist polity primarily hinges on whether the government is seen as willing to institutionalise the “protection” of Buddhism and on its perceived weakness (or even complicity) in the face of an “Islamic threat”.Moves to address human rights issues are seen by many religious nationalists as tantamount to enabling Islamic encroachment. This means that international and domestic views around the status and treatment of Muslims (and the Rohingya in particular) are in many ways irreconcilable. Government policy statements that attempt to calm nationalist agitation by emphasising the importance of democratic pluralism are read by many Burman Buddhists as ceding cultural and political power to a belligerent religious minority that would not hesitate to enshrine its own religious views into law if given the opportunity. 3.Economic and cultural anxieties The economic networks that developed as a result of colonial-era immigration from South Asia have persisted in the form of a business class of traders with strong cross-border ties. There is a common perception that these communities only do business with each other, sharing access to markets and capital only within their own faith communities; the 969 boycott movement against Muslim businesses (see section III.A) was a direct response to this. Buddhist nationalists express similar concerns regarding the Chinese business community, particularly in Mandalay and Taunggyi. The combination of nationalist concerns over Buddhist religious and cultural education, economic protectionism and inter-religious marriage means that groups like MaBaTha focus not only on perceived slights to their religion and religious community, but also on behaviours Buddhists see as incompatible with a safe, peaceful society. This helps explain their widespread support for the package of “protection of race and religion laws” adopted in 2015 (see section III.B below). Buddhist nationalism in Myanmar is not just about promoting the faith, but also protecting the culture. This makes it impossible to draw a clear distinction between political and non-political nationalist activism. 4.Regional dynamics In part, nationalist views reflect a growing awareness in Myanmar of regional and global dynamics. For example, the notion that some Buddhist monks in southern Thailand must engage in armed struggle against Muslim militants is highly resonant, and something that people living in Myanmar’s south-eastern borderlands in particular are aware of through trade and migration. Female religious nationalists in Kayin state were resolute in their belief that it was the lay community’s role to ensure that monks were protected from ever having to take on such a role – and that use of force was undesirable, but not inherently problematic to the faith, in cases of self-defence. Religious exchanges with Sri Lanka – and with the Buddhist nationalist group Bodu Bala Sena in particular – also have reinforced nationalist narratives and fears of a global Islamist terrorist threat, as well as acceptance of the concept of defensive violence. There are echoes of Sinhalese characterisations of the “Tamil threat” in Myanmar nationalist beliefs that the Muslim minority is the real aggressor given the nature and growth of global Islam. In Sri Lanka today, Bodu Bala Sena has shifted focus from the Tamil threat to that of global Islam, with worrying attempts to build anti-Muslim alliances with nationalist groups in the region. Buddhist women, particularly nuns, who travel to Sri Lanka for religious education appear more likely to accept or encourage the direct participation of Buddhist monks in politics, and cite Sri Lankan history as doctrinal justification for the use of defensive violence. The notion that Islam threatens Buddhism around the region appears frequently in religious nationalist materials in Myanmar. The Taliban’s destruction of the Bamiyan Buddhas in Afghanistan in 2001 is often cited as an example of Muslim cruelty, violence and intolerance; the Taliban’s 2007 attacks on Buddhist relics and ancient university grounds in Pakistan are also sometimes referenced. The idea that Buddhism is an inherently peaceful and non-proselytising religion, and therefore susceptible to oppression by more aggressive faiths, is a recurrent theme across Myanmar. The feeling that Islam is especially pernicious, given the purported tendency to enact Islamic law once a majority is achieved, frustrates Buddhists who believe that their faith has suffered for its tolerance of other religions. This, together with the perception that Islam is inherently violent, is a potent driver of contemporary Buddhist nationalism in Myanmar. As far afield as Loikaw, the capital of remote Kayah state, young people showed images of Islamic State beheadings on their mobile phones to explain their fears, specifically in relation to National League for Democracy (NLD) government leadership and its failure to tackle a perceived Muslim threat. III.The Rise of MaBaTha A.Origins of the Organisation The recent resurgence of Buddhist nationalism in Myanmar was spearheaded in part by the “969” movement, which first became prominent in the southern city of Mawlamyine in 2011. 969 is numerological shorthand for the special attributes of Buddha and his teachings and a riposte to the number “786”, a folk Islam representation of the Basmala long used by Muslims in Myanmar and elsewhere to identify halal restaurants and Muslim-owned shops. The 969 movement was led by prominent monks including Ashin Wirathu and Ashin Wimala and was particularly vocal in its extremist rhetoric, making claims of a Muslim plot to take over the country and of schemes to pay Muslims for marrying and converting Buddhist women. These dire warnings combined with a simple message to the faithful to “buy Buddhist” resonated strongly and were spread widely in the country through DVDs and 969 stickers. Yet the movement remained decentralised, with no infrastructure beyond the monastic economies of individual member monks. Wirathu had begun preaching in 2001 about the rising threat presented by Islam and was arrested two years later and sentenced to 25 years in jail for inciting deadly violence in his home town of Kyaukse by distributing inflammatory anti-Muslim pamphlets; he was freed in 2011 as part of a broad amnesty by then-President Thein Sein. He and the 969 movement revived old prejudices: a British colonial inquiry into the 1938 riots noted that “one of the major sources of anxiety in the minds of a great number of Burmese was the question of the marriage of their womenfolk with foreigners in general and with Indians in particular”. In late-2013, the 969 movement was effectively banned by the Sangha Council, the government-appointed body of monks that oversees and regulates the Buddhist clergy. In the announcement, the Sangha Council said nothing about links between the 969 movement’s inflammatory anti-Muslim rhetoric and subsequent outbreaks of deadly violence, but focused on the movement’s unauthorised use of Buddhist symbolism. This was not an outright dismissal of the group’s ideology, but rather reflected the Sangha Council’s frustration with the 969 movement’s lobbying for the enactment of the protection of race and religion laws (see below) – not because the council considered the laws unnecessary or inappropriate, but rather because the protection and promotion of religion comes under the remit of the Sangha Council and the Ministry of Religious Affairs. Members of the 969 movement rejected not only the legitimacy of the ban, but of the Sangha Council in general, which they stated was formed by the previous military regime to control the monkhood, and which they saw as serving the interests of the government not the faith. Such views are widely held in Myanmar, though MaBaTha’s highest-ranking monks tell members that disparaging the Sangha Council is bad karma. These actions against the 969 movement prompted it to evolve into the somewhat more formal structure of MaBaTha. Though founded a few months earlier in June 2013, MaBaTha was not particularly prominent until January 2014, when its upper Myanmar branch was established in Mandalay. Its founding monks then stated publicly that the organisation was intended not only to support the 969 movement’s ideology, but also to rein in outspoken “younger monks” (including Wirathu) who were prompting domestic and international criticism. In addition, MaBaTha’s structure was specifically designed to give official roles to laymen and women, which in turn created ambiguity about the Sangha Council’s jurisdiction over the group. MaBaTha immediately picked up where the 969 movement had left off, rallying for the adoption of the race and religion laws and extending awareness of nationalist ideology – and the MaBaTha brand – far into rural and remote parts of the country, and making it by far the most prominent and nationally-known Buddhist nationalist group. B.Protection of Race and Religion Laws After a huge lobbying effort made them a significant electoral issue, the four laws were enacted in May and August 2015, in the lead-up to the November 2015 elections. The laws are as follows: The Population Control Law (May 2015) gives the government the power to implement (non-coercive) population control measures in areas designated by the president with high population density, growth, maternal and child mortality, poverty or food insecurity. No such areas have been designated, but the provisions would appear to apply particularly to Muslim-majority northern Rakhine state where coercive local orders that limited Muslim couples to two children have been in place in the past. The Buddhist Women’s Special Marriage Law (August 2015) provides that any marriage of a Buddhist woman to a non-Buddhist man requires an application to be submitted to the township registrar, who will display it publicly for fourteen days. After that time, the marriage can be approved, provided no objection has been lodged on the basis that the parties are not of age or sound mind or that there has been coercion. An official publicly-accessible registry of such marriages is to be kept. The non-Buddhist man must allow the wife to freely follow her Buddhist faith, not attempt to convert her and allow any children to freely follow the religion of their choice. He must not insult Buddhism in any way. If the non-Buddhist man violates any provision, he is liable to three years imprisonment or a fine and forfeiture of joint property and custody of children. The law supersedes the 1954 Buddhist Women’s Special Marriage and Succession Act, from which it differs in only a few provisions, but which had fallen into disuse. The Religious Conversion Law (August 2015) provides that a person wanting to convert to another religion must be eighteen years old, convert voluntarily and apply to a township Religious Conversion Scrutinising and Registration Board for permission. The person shall be interviewed by the board to ascertain whether he or she has a genuine belief in the religion as well as knowledge of its marriage, divorce, division of property and inheritance practices. The Monogamy Law (August 2015) makes it a criminal offense to have more than one spouse or to live with an unmarried partner who is not a spouse or to engage in marital infidelity. There is no provision for bail and the penalty is up to seven years imprisonment. While the law was championed by nationalists citing polygamous practices in Muslim communities, most cases under the law have been brought by Buddhist women against unfaithful husbands. The laws drew considerable international attention, as they appeared to have discriminatory intent and to be targeted at Muslims, potentially violating not only Myanmar’s constitutional provisions on religious freedom and non-discrimination, but also its treaty obligations under various international human rights conventions. MaBaTha supporters argue that the four laws were a formalisation of existing customary law. The strong perception among many Myanmar Buddhists is that Buddhist women in inter-religious marriages – particularly those married to Muslim men – lose many of their rights since matrimonial disputes are adjudicated on the basis of customary law relating to the husband’s religion. This longstanding concern was the impetus behind the 1939 Buddhist Women’s Special Marriage and Succession Act, replaced by a 1954 act of the same name. Nationalists saw these laws as being weak in their lack of application and their content, particularly regarding prohibitions on polygamy and forced conversion. Although the new law MaBaTha supporters are pushing is very similar, it reaffirms the relevance of these concerns. Domestic and international opposition to the four laws tends to emphasise the restrictions they place on women’s rights and freedoms. Yet some women are strong proponents of the laws and nuns and laywomen led marches and signature-gathering campaigns in support of the legislation, raising popular awareness of and support for the draft laws. The support of female nationalists stems primarily from a commitment to outlawing polygamy and strongly-felt concerns over forced conversion, which they see as the likely (if not inevitable) by-product of Muslim-Buddhist marriages. These concerns over polygamy and forced conversion are also driving opposition to an upcoming bill to protect women from violence. The Violence Against Women and Girls Bill was drafted in consultation with Myanmar gender experts and activists and international advisers, with the intention of protecting women from all forms of violence, including intimate partner violence, marital rape, sexual violence, harassment by stalking, harassment in the work place and public places and violent traditional and customary practices. The bill has not yet been publicly released or scheduled for legislative debate, but MaBaTha supporters are deeply concerned that it could weaken the polygamy ban and religious conversion law. They have undertaken to protest the bill if it overrides or alters the four laws.Even if it does not repeal or amend those laws, any failure to explicitly prohibit polygamy and forced conversion will be interpreted by Buddhist nationalists – and nationalist women in particular – as de facto weakening the race and religion laws. Nationalists will take this as a signal that the NLD is willing to sacrifice moral and religious imperatives in order to appear tolerant and appease Muslims at the expense of the majority – and Buddhist women, in particular. C.A Foray into Party Politics In the lead up to the 2015 elections, MaBaTha leaders were intentionally ambiguous in their party-political stance. The MaBaTha Chairman, Ashin Thiloka, advised followers to vote for candidates who would “protect” the race and religion laws and to avoid those who would “destroy” them – implying that they should not vote NLD. Others, notably Ashin Wirathu, were willing to be more direct in telling voters that the establishment Union Solidarity and Development Party (USDP) was more supportive of the MaBaTha agenda and stronger in its protection of race and religion than the NLD. Although MaBaTha appeared to have a clear preference for the USDP and expressed great scepticism about the NLD’s nationalist credentials, this was not organisational doctrine. MaBaTha should be seen as a fairly loose coalition of subnational chapters, monasteries and members or supporters whose views are generally aligned, but without any orthodoxy or top-down decisions being imposed. Member monks had close personal relations with numerous political parties, including the NLD; and both USDP and NLD politicians made donations to MaBaTha-affiliated monasteries. While this could be construed as an attempt to buy MaBaTha support, it can also be seen as a reaffirmation of the historical political and financial connections between the state and Buddhist clergy. A number of lay MaBaTha members were NLD supporters. Many hoped that the organisation could press the NLD to take a stronger nationalist stance once in office, even as others feared that its language on human rights and tolerance reflected Western pluralist views rejected by many Myanmar Buddhists.MaBaTha issued strong warnings that attempts to roll back the race and religion laws would be met with staunch opposition. Faced with widespread doubts about its nationalist credentials and claims that it was “pro-Muslim”, the NLD decided to follow the other major parties in not fielding any Muslim candidate in the election. The election results came as shock to many nationalists. Not only did the NLD win by a landslide, routing the incumbent USDP, but other nationalist parties and independent candidates failed to win any seats, and only received a tiny number of votes. It was clear that while MaBaTha had a great deal of popular support and its leading monks commanded considerable respect, its foray into electoral politics had failed. At the ballot box, widespread adoration for Aung San Suu Kyi and hatred of the former military regime, with which the USDP was closely associated, trumped nationalist concerns. This did not necessarily imply a major loss of support for MaBaTha and its nationalist ideologies, merely a rejection of its party-political intervention. However, once the extent of the NLD landslide became clear, MaBaTha was put on the back foot, adopting a wait-and-see approach. This lack of visible MaBaTha activity led many national and international observers to conclude that MaBaTha had been neutralised by the election outcome. Yet, while certainly chastened, the continuing broad popular support for Buddhist nationalist narratives suggests that the NLD landslide was not a rejection of MaBaTha’s ideology. The organisation’s silence probably was due to its assessment of the new political landscape and because the new government did not immediately move to confront nationalist ideology – for example, by seeking to repeal the race and religion laws. Indeed, MaBaTha’s pre-election statement that their objective was to protect the laws rather than support a particular party was likely an accurate representation of the views of at least some of its leaders. D.New Action by the Sangha Council In July 2016, the Sangha Council issued a statement that MaBaTha was not a “legal” Buddhist organisation. Commentators and the media almost universally construed this as a ban on the group’s activities or at the very least a repudiation of MaBaTha by the state’s high Buddhist authority. However, a careful examination of the statement shows that it only indicated that MaBaTha had not formally registered itself as a Sangha organisation. This can be interpreted in several ways: as a response to NLD calls to dissolve “unnecessary and redundant” Sangha organisations; a move to delegitimise MaBaTha’s outspoken monks; a warning that the organisation was in a precarious position; or even a desire to place MaBaTha and its activities under civil rather than religious jurisdiction to facilitate legal action. MaBaTha responded by noting that it was formed with the support of individual Sangha Council members and did not need to register formally as it was not a purely monastic organisation. The deadly October 2016 attacks on Border Guard Police bases in northern Rakhine state by a new Rohingya militant group gave new oxygen to nationalist groups. This brought the perceived threat of violent Islam to the forefront of national consciousness and anti-Muslim sentiment spiked. The military response to the attacks was heavy-handed, with allegations of extrajudicial killings, rape and violence that the UN characterised as “the very likely commission of crimes against humanity”. Some 75,000 Rohingya fled to Bangladesh. Separately, on 29 January 2017, a prominent Muslim advisor to the NLD, Ko Ni, was assassinated outside Yangon International Airport. MaBaTha and other nationalist groups returned to the spotlight. An aid shipment for Rakhine state sent by the Malaysian government was protested vigorously by members of various Buddhist nationalist groups, notably the fiery young Myo-chit Thamegga, a group whose membership overlaps with MaBaTha, though it is reportedly beyond their direct control. The investigation into Ko Ni’s assassination considered, but ultimately ruled out, MaBaTha involvement. Communal tensions rose in neighbourhoods of Yangon with large Muslim populations. Violent nationalist protests demanded local authorities shut down two Muslim schools that doubled as prayer centres. Nationalists also insisted that police raid an apartment they alleged to be a safe house for illegal Muslim migrants (implied to be Rohingya from Rakhine state); the mob turned violent when the raid uncovered no evidence. In addition to government legal action against some of the agitators and protestors, the spectre of renewed communal violence spurred the Sangha Council (likely under government direction) to issue a new statement, this time indicating more clearly that MaBaTha was in violation of the Sangha Law. The decision – issued on 23 May, just days before the group’s planned four-year anniversary conference – banned use of the MaBaTha name and logo and required that all MaBaTha signs and placards be removed by 15 July. It used language that hinted at similarities between MaBaTha and other illegal Buddhist factions whose proponents have been prosecuted and imprisoned. The decision was conveyed at a meeting with MaBaTha central committee leaders, who signed their acceptance. Despite initial reports that MaBaTha’s 27-28 May conference would be cancelled, it instead became an opportunity to discuss responses to the decision and possible legal implications for disobeying it. During the conference, legal experts presented arguments on why the Sangha Law did not apply to MaBaTha, including because it was an organisation with both monks and lay members. MaBaTha leaders concurred, but indicated that they would follow the Sangha Council’s decision so as to avoid “weakening the religion at a time of considerable threats to its well-being”. While the idea of Buddhism being under threat in Myanmar may seem incomprehensible to most observers, it reflects a strong millenarian current in Theravada Buddhism that the current Buddha era could end in “a single day” if neglected by those in power. The conference took three key steps: It was announced that MaBaTha would respond to the Sangha Council ban by changing its name to the Buddha Dhamma Parahita Foundation. MaBaTha leadership explained that the Sangha Council had only rejected use of the name “MaBaTha” and had not abolished the organisation. Maung Thway Chun, editor of MaBaTha’s journal and then-chairman of another Buddhist nationalist group, Dhamma Wunthanu Rakhita, indicated that this group would take on a more prominent leadership role and debated whether they would encourage more militant activities. In the end, the conference stated that while they would not explicitly promote violence, neither would they “allow the race and religion to suffer”. On the final day of the conference, Maung Thway Chun announced that he was withdrawing from Dhamma Wunthanu Rakhita, MaBaTha and the Buddha Dhamma Parahita Foundation in order to start a nationalist political party named “135 Nationalities United”, a decision he presented as part of a long-term strategy rather than as a direct response to the Sangha Council statement. At the time of his announcement all monks and nuns had been removed from the event hall, an acknowledgement of the legal prohibition on involvement of religious associations in party politics. Following the conference, MaBaTha’s regional leaders organised follow-on meetings in their respective areas to share updates on the Yangon discussions, drawing large numbers of monks – 700 in the case of the Kayin state meeting. Many of these meetings ended with announcements that the branches would not accept the Sangha Council decision, regardless of the views of MaBaTha headquarters. Currently, only three of eight main branches reportedly have accepted the decision – Yangon, Bago and Yamethin – and will adopt the Buddha Dhamma Parahita Foundation rebranding; the rest will continue to use the MaBaTha name and logo. Given that the rebranding would have had limited impact on the organisation’s structure or activities, refusing to drop the MaBaTha name is a clear signal of defiance against the Sangha Council and the government. The refusal seemingly has broad understanding or support across the organisation, including in those branches that acquiesced in the name change. On 16 July, nationalist monk Ashin Wirathu released a video on Facebook calling on the government to step down and “hand over the power to those who can well handle the country”. As the 15 July deadline passed, the government warned through state media that MaBaTha members who failed to follow the Sangha Council’s decision would be prosecuted under civil law. A senior NLD representative clarified that action would be taken in two stages. First, monks would be disciplined through their local monastic authority, and if that failed to secure compliance, MaBaTha could be declared unlawful under the 1908 Unlawful Associations Act. This designation would allow for criminal charges to be brought against both leadership and members, as well as potentially against any other person who has contact with them. Although the NLD representative suggested MaBaTha was “on the brink” of such a designation, it would be an extraordinarily inflammatory move to put a Buddhist organisation with considerable public support and led by revered monks in the same category as belligerent armed groups and terrorist organisations. It also would be ineffective in quashing MaBaTha activities, given the ease with which the organisation could circumvent the designation by rebranding. At the time of this report, MaBaTha and its supporters appear to have temporarily halted most activities as they seek to better understand their legal position and the government’s resolve, but this should be interpreted more as a regrouping than a defeat. E.MaBaTha’s Organisational Structure Although more institutionalised than the 969 movement, MaBaTha has a highly decentralised structure based around a group of monasteries, monks and laypersons who share a commitment to the protection and promotion of Buddhism. This amorphous structure makes it difficult to enforce any ban. The central committee, situated within Yangon’s Insein Ywama Monastery, has only limited authority over regional branches and personalities. Some of the most visible and well-loved MaBaTha monks, such as Ashin Wirathu, have deceptively low-ranking titles such as manager. Eight MaBaTha chapters are currently the most active. Each has a prominent monastery, usually several revered monks, and often an affiliated women’s organisation comprised of nuns and/or laywomen. They have fluid relationships with other nationalist groups. Though MaBaTha has numerous chapters and smaller local offices, it has no shared accounting system, with funds being handled by individual monasteries and members. The organisation denies that it is well-funded. MaBaTha used to have a formal membership sign-up process, but this has not been maintained in many areas and the group tends to work through phone-tree networks rather than any central mobilisation system. MaBaTha often has helped coordinate other religious nationalist movements. In the wake of the Sangha Council ban, MaBaTha (and its Buddha Dhamma Parahita Foundation rebrand) has positioned itself as an umbrella organisation for nationalist groups, including remnants of the 969 movement, Dhamma Wunthanu Rakhita, and various myo-chit (“nationalist”, or literally “love for one’s own race”) youth groups. Yet while MaBaTha is influential, its control over these other groups is limited and largely dependent on personal relationships. This will be particularly true of the emergent “135 Nationalities United” political party, which is controversial among MaBaTha members concerned about blurring the lines between social and religious work on the one hand and party-political activities on the other. As in 2015, MaBaTha monks probably will support whichever political party appears most likely to support the nationalist cause in future elections. Support for 135 Nationalities United is not a foregone conclusion, but any perceived NLD attempt to pressure or unfairly treat that party could be leveraged by MaBaTha into a powerful political narrative. IV.Explaining MaBaTha’s Popularity A.Social and Cultural Activities Though international media have tended to portray MaBaTha as a political entity, members and many supporters see it as having a much broader role; this is particularly true among women, who often are raised to avoid politics. Today, when asked about MaBaTha work, members typically highlight a range of activities for the “promotion and protection of Buddhism”, which further enhance grassroots support for the organisation: Promoting shared Buddhist cultural values. These are understood as originating from Buddhist moral precepts. Maintaining them is seen as critical for the social and spiritual health of the community. Educating members of society on these shared values is viewed as ensuring peaceful coexistence between people with different ethnic or linguistic backgrounds. Where the secular state fails to provide this “civic education”, the monastic order may intervene. This explains why, while MaBaTha is widely seen by non-supporters as spreading hate speech, intolerance and conflict, the vast majority of its supporters believe the organisation’s very existence promotes peace in plural communities. Providing a social safety net. Historically, monasteries have played this role, taking in the poor, sick and elderly, providing food and health care. Most monasteries have never been solely concerned with theological activities. Those that are often suffer from chronic lack of funding. As MaBaTha rose to prominence, member monks increasingly conducted their usual monastic social works under the MaBaTha banner. Disaster relief. This is a core focus of MaBaTha’s work in Myanmar and is also used as a means of building its international Buddhist connections.MaBaTha members commonly mention the way that Christian organisations mobilised to provide aid to communities following Cyclone Nargis in 2008, which they see as a means of proselytisation. Some say that impact was enhanced by the fact that Christian assistance is provided for longer-term recovery rather than just emergency needs, something MaBaTha aims to emulate. MaBaTha provided significant support to communities affected by the devastating 2015 floods in upper Myanmar, leveraging its broad membership base to quickly identify communities in need and raise funds; visits by high profile monks to deliver aid in affected areas gave MaBaTha considerable visibility. MaBaTha monks have also taken a prominent role in fundraising for the restoration of hundreds of ancient pagodas in Bagan that were damaged in the 2016 earthquake. Education. Monks and nuns in Myanmar have a long tradition of providing education for underprivileged and rural youth. Monastic education was the norm in the pre-colonial period, and many Myanmar Buddhists bemoan the fact that the expansion of government-run secular schools means that understanding of Pali (the language of the Buddhist canon) is markedly lower in younger generations. Education is one of MaBaTha’s most prominent activities, in particular through its Dhamma School Foundation, launched in 2012, which operates a large network of Buddhist Sunday schools (Dhamma schools) across the country. Many Dhamma School teachers are also members of MaBaTha, particularly MaBaTha women. MaBaTha also sponsors a high school in Hlegu township (Yangon region), built in mid-2016 and serving some 200 students. It teaches the standard high school curriculum, but also includes Buddhist cultural and civic education programs taught by monks. A second such school is reportedly in the making near Mandalay. Dispute resolution and “women’s rights”. Monastic communities often use their moral authority to resolve disputes and promote harmony in their communities. MaBaTha regards outreach trips around the country to “protect women” as a proactive part of such community work. Across upper Myanmar in particular, women are actively engaged in community-level efforts to inform rural Buddhist women about their marriage rights and the right to practice their Buddhist faith. While this could be seen as spreading anti-Muslim sentiment, nuns and laywomen conducting this outreach say it is designed to protect women’s freedom of choice – specifically regarding whom they marry and how they practice their religion. This could morph into anti-Muslim narratives, however, given the widely-held belief – particularly in nationalist circles – that Muslim men use polygamy to force their Buddhist wives to convert, with the threat that otherwise they will take a Muslim second wife who under Muslim customary law would receive any inheritance. However, MaBaTha women also reference the precolonial prevalence of Buddhist polygamy as evidence that the laws also are designed to protect women’s progress and equality within Buddhist society. Many women members specifically cite feminism as a reason for joining MaBaTha, including nuns, who see women’s protection as part of their religious duty. Legal aid. The legal advisory group affiliated with MaBaTha, which analysed the Sangha Council decision and provided input to the race and religion laws, also engages in pro bono legal work under MaBaTha’s umbrella. Female members provide pastoral support and legal aid to women in abusive family or work situations who do not have the means to go through the courts. These cases often are brought to MaBaTha monks by communities; specific women are then tasked by the monks depending on their availability and the nature of the case. In the case of a young Buddhist girl abused by a Chinese businessman, which gained nationwide attention, female MaBaTha members housed the girl and her family for several months. Members do not usually receive financial compensation for this work, which they regard as a form of support for MaBaTha. All these activities either resonate with societal views about good Buddhist practice or provide tangible and much-needed community services and support. Both roles enhance positive perceptions of, and support for, MaBaTha and its agenda. B.Positive and Negative Grassroots Perceptions International and some domestic analysis portrays MaBaTha as a fundamentally political entity pursuing a radically nationalist, bigoted and misogynistic agenda. The group’s claims to be a “missionary organisation” focused on social work and propagating Buddhism are dismissed as an attempt to protect its members from criticism, and its social and cultural activities are seen as a cynical vehicle for propagating its ultranationalist views. While this is true for some of the organisation’s leaders and some of its interventions, it does not explain the group’s considerable grassroots support. These assessments often overlook the accomplishments of MaBaTha supporters, particularly women, who prioritise contributing to the group’s social work. Understanding how MaBaTha acts as a vehicle for furthering individual projects – religious, social, or in some cases political – requires understanding why such women feel better able to contribute to their communities through MaBaTha than through local civil society or non-governmental organisations. This in turn would enable a more effective policy approach to addressing MaBaTha’s more extreme and negative activities and impacts. Nuns and laywomen involved with MaBaTha see their work as improving the situation of women around the country. These supporters are not limited to poorly-educated, rural women, but include members of the country’s most prestigious nunneries, respected female religious scholars and lay lawyers, educators and medical professionals. Though many are in their fifties, there is also a very active cadre of tertiary-educated, feminist-identifying laywomen and nuns in their late twenties and early thirties. At least part of the reason they pursue their objectives through MaBaTha is that it provides an extraordinarily powerful platform, with its religious legitimacy, popular support and extensive networks across the country. Thus, for example, a female MaBaTha council member indicated that she joined MaBaTha because she wanted to raise money for schools in Rakhine state, and the group was happy to give her a platform for a series of religious talks through which she raised several hundred dollars in three days. This led her to deepen her engagement with MaBaTha, having concluded it provided a better opportunity for supporting her community than the NLD, of which she was an early member and strong supporter. Crisis Group discussions with numerous members and lay supporters of MaBaTha suggest several reasons for the strong support that the group attracts: There is a perception that MaBaTha has been highly effective in supporting the needs of communities, particularly as regards rule of law. Communities across the country continue to lack effective access to formal systems of justice and feel that in this respect they have a powerful ally in MaBaTha. Many women say the group addresses problems traditionally unacknowledged given the persistent myth of women’s high status and equality. For example, abuse against women is widespread. Women supporters also feel that they are bound by domestic expectations that limit the time available for Buddhist study and merit-making activities, hindering their intellectual and spiritual development. Engaging in MaBaTha activities is not only meritorious, but MaBaTha’s stature and the roles it gives women allows them to negotiate participation with their husbands more easily. Thus, even if religious groups such as MaBaTha could be seen as perpetuating conservative mores around the roles of women, they also provide an outlet for women to contribute to important social issues. Moreover, many women are hugely supportive of the polygamy ban and the religious conversion law, which they see as protecting them against threats to their economic rights and religious freedoms (see section III.B above). Various women’s groups across Myanmar that were already in existence at the time of MaBaTha’s founding approached the group to offer support. They were not co-opted by powerful or influential monks; rather, they supported the group’s message and objectives or felt that working with MaBaTha would help them achieve their own objectives. They say they propose activities to MaBaTha as well as respond to requests from the group. Laywomen and nuns express appreciation for being treated equally to men by the organisation. Members and supporters believe MaBaTha takes their fears seriously, notably about Muslims. Indeed, there is a strong perception among many in Myanmar that Islam is inherently violent and a discomfort with what they see as violent aspects of Abrahamic religions in general. Other features associated with Islam – the slaughter of cows on specific holidays, and Quranic passages on Islam’s view of other religions and on proselytising and conversion – likewise are regularly cited by people to explain their support for MaBaTha. Many MaBaTha women, including nuns, say they have read the Quran and find its material distressing. Men of South Asian extraction (kala), especially Muslims, are the subject of particular cultural prejudices in Myanmar, being portrayed as sexually rapacious and greedy; parents have long invoked them as bogeymen to scare children. Of course, while there is strong support in Buddhist communities for MaBaTha and its nationalist narratives, this is by no means unconditional. Those who support MaBaTha do not necessarily endorse all of its narratives or activities, and may be uncomfortable with the involvement of monks in some MaBaTha activities, even if they support the activities themselves. That said, research or journalism that claims to have found widespread or growing disapproval of MaBaTha should be interpreted carefully – government, religious bodies and the media tend to conflate criticism of certain MaBaTha activities with criticism of its underlying mission. There is a longstanding debate in Myanmar on the involvement of monks in secular, political affairs; there is far less questioning of their nationalist ideology. V.Assessing the Violence and Government’s Policy Response A.What Next for Buddhist Nationalism? The new Buddha Dhamma Parahita Foundation has already been adopted in place of MaBaTha in some parts of the country even if, as noted, several regional branches are determined to continue using the MaBaTha name and logo. Those that have accepted the Sangha Council’s decision have pushed to position Buddha Dhamma Parahita Foundation as an umbrella organisation for all nationalist groups (although the 135 Nationalities United party will remain separate). MaBaTha and its successor groups are likely to continue to enjoy considerable public support. The Sangha Council decision is far from a mortal blow to Buddhist nationalism. The Sangha Council’s authority is contested, and its views and decisions are unlikely to determine the future of MaBaTha or its renamed avatar. MaBaTha supporters, and Myanmar Buddhists in general, see the council as having an important role in disseminating Buddhist literature, but as far removed from the practical and spiritual needs of the average Buddhist. In Buddhist doctrine, religious authority stems from both mastery of Buddhist teachings and addressing the total well-being – spiritual, social and economic – of the community. Unlike the authority assigned to the Sangha Council by law, religious authority must be earned and continuously reaffirmed through activities that strengthen the religion and its adherents. In this respect, many see MaBaTha and its leading monks as having far greater legitimacy than the Sangha Council. MaBaTha has already demonstrated it can circumvent restrictions with the shift to the new Buddha Dhamma Parahita Foundation branding. The Sangha Council’s move may push coordination among nationalist monks, nuns and lay supporters into the shadows, but their efforts are unlikely to stop. Rather, the informal networks that sustain MaBaTha will become slightly harder to trace and understand. Indeed, the Sangha Council actions may have amplified a looming confrontation between nationalists and the authorities on several other fronts. These include the prosecutions of nationalist demonstrators and violent agitation around the court hearings (see section III.D above); nationalist anti-government protests in Naypyitaw targeting the Minister for Religious Affairs in particular; a recent alms strike by nationalist monks and the forcible closure of demonstration camps set up at prominent pagodas; and the defiance by leading MaBaTha monk Ashin Wirathu of a Sangha Council preaching ban. If the government makes good on its threat to declare MaBaTha an “unlawful association” there will be severe, likely violent, reverberations across the country. It also could lead to renewed clashes with the Democratic Kayin Buddhist Army armed group, which has informally aligned with MaBaTha in Kayin state and whose leaders have promised to defend Buddhism with force of arms wherever that may be required. This has created a volatile environment with the potential for serious violence. The biggest threat may not be MaBaTha itself, but nationalist dynamics that may now be beyond its control. The perception that MaBaTha activities have been constrained by the Sangha Council has spurred hardliners to action. This could play out in ways that may be more extreme or violent than MaBaTha itself would have sanctioned, and which the organisation may not be able to rein in. B.Policy Implications Grassroots support for MaBaTha is flourishing in areas where the government is perceived to be weak, in particular basic service provision around education, access to justice and disaster relief. Many of these weaknesses are the longstanding legacy of failures by previous regimes. Nevertheless, a perception that the current government has not communicated a clear strategy for addressing them has allowed MaBaTha to create a narrative that it is reluctantly stepping in to fill gaps left by an ineffective government. In this context, pressure on MaBaTha by the Sangha Council and Ministry of Religious Affairs may diminish their own reputations. The Sangha Council’s legitimacy is limited; its increasingly strident decisions against MaBaTha are seen as coming at the behest of the ministry, which itself is part of a government perceived to have a Western liberal orientation, which does not prioritise the protection and promotion of Buddhism. The legislative flashpoint of the Violence Against Women and Girls Bill also will feed this narrative. While it must remain determined to prosecute anti-Muslim hate speech, illegal actions and violence, the government is unlikely to successfully tackle extreme Buddhist nationalist ideology and widespread Islamophobia through confrontation and legal measures against MaBaTha. These will play into the narrative of Buddhism under threat, and ultimately empower the organisation and other, more extreme nationalist groups. Rather than constantly responding to provocations and appearing on the defensive, the government should aim to take greater control of the narrative by reframing, on its terms, the place of Buddhism in a more democratic context and articulating a positive vision of the future – one that emphasises the strength of Buddhism rather than perceived weaknesses or threats. This can engender greater confidence in Buddhist communities that the government has made addressing their concerns about the future a priority. Much of the angst in monastic communities and Buddhist society at large stems from the rapid changes the country is going through. These changes have led to worries that secularism and modernity threaten the traditional role of Buddhism, defining success in material terms rather than religious achievements. In this new era for Myanmar, many youths are searching for a cause, a sense of belonging and of direction. The government, NLD and society as a whole need to find ways to channel this enormous energy in a positive direction. MaBaTha’s popularity stems not only from its ideology and activities, but also from the sense of prestige, belonging and direction it gives to members and supporters. It provides a channel for women to participate meaningfully in social life and to create opportunities for spiritual growth that are accepted by their families. For many youth, especially young men, participation may provide an anchor for those who feel rudderless as a result of high unemployment, lack of opportunity and uncertainty or unease due to the rapid changes in the country. The NLD has a new, unique handicap with which it has not yet fully grappled. Until it came into government, the party embodied Myanmar’s biggest cause – the struggle against authoritarianism and repression. But once in government, it has not been able to harness the energy of those at the grassroots and the youth who supported that cause. Nationalist organisations are partly filling this space. Better opportunities for people to participate in community development, social welfare, education and environmental conservation would all resonate strongly and give people a greater sense of control of their destiny. Also underlying the popularity of nationalist narratives is a sense of economic anxiety and a feeling that ordinary people are not seeing tangible benefits from the reforms. This increases their sense of concern about the future and the resilience of their communities. A much more visible focus on the economy by the government would boost public confidence that its priority is providing ordinary people with better jobs and opportunities for a more prosperous future. International intervention on the issue of Buddhist nationalism – such as the range of current donor-supported projects to combat hate speech or promote inter-religious harmony and pluralism – risks being ineffective or worse, counterproductive if they fail to account for the complex motivations that drive support for nationalism. Organisations working on access to justice, dispute resolution, civic education and related areas should take into account the role of monasteries, including those aligned with or sympathetic to MaBaTha. For example, female lawyers play a particularly important role in identifying abuse cases and providing pro bono pastoral and legal aid to the most vulnerable women and children, and many choose to do so under the banner of MaBaTha. It is important to provide alternative structures through which these monasteries can work, but with an understanding that Western liberal framing of human rights and women’s rights issues – which many local women’s rights policy organisations also use – does not translate unproblematically into a traditional Buddhist moral worldview. This is not to question the universality of these rights or to suggest any relativism in their application; it is rather a question of drawing on those with the relevant expertise in order to find the most effective ways to communicate these rights and develop activities to promote them. Monks and nuns, including those aligned with MaBaTha, are very active in raising awareness in communities of legal rights and in individual dispute resolution activities. However, there is little systematic legal training for members of monastic orders, so such activities are often done on the basis of incomplete or distorted legal knowledge. For example, marital dispute resolution decisions may be made on the basis of an out-dated conception of Buddhist customary law with no understanding of developments in statute law or the arbitrary application of laws. Nuns who teach communities about women’s rights may only be aware of the race and religion laws, not other statutes. The government, through the Ministry of Religious Affairs and Sangha Council, could develop a policy on legal education for monastic orders, to provide more systematic and balanced legal presentations and training at major teaching monasteries and nunneries, possibly with the support of Myanmar universities and legal scholars. Women’s rights NGOs and women members of MaBaTha working on rights issues may in some ways have highly divergent perspectives, but their ultimate objectives overlap to a considerable degree. It would be valuable to bring these groups together to discuss and share their experiences of promoting women’s rights. VI.Conclusion Virulent Buddhist nationalism has emerged as a considerable societal issue in Myanmar and a threat to peaceful coexistence in this multi-religious and multi-ethnic country. The attacks in northern Rakhine state by al-Yaqin or ARSA in August 2017, while mostly driven by local grievances, will inevitably become part of the Buddhist nationalist narrative, further complicating the social and political dynamics of religion and ethnicity. Understanding and addressing how these dynamics fuel fear, nationalist rhetoric and militant behaviour within Myanmar’s different communities has taken on even greater urgency. The NLD’s landslide election victory in 2015 put MaBaTha on the back foot. But it also led to premature claims that it was a spent force, with some interpreting a recent decision by the Sangha Council banning use of its name and signboards as a death knell. Yet a refusal by many MaBaTha chapters to adhere to the ban, and an upswing in political agitation and violent provocation, have demonstrated the resilience and continued popularity of this organisation and its beliefs. Its religious authority in many quarters is greater than that of the Sangha Council and the government, and it has proven adept at turning restrictions imposed by them to its advantage. Efforts to tackle MaBaTha and its divisive narratives must start from recognition of its sources of support. It is engaged in far more than political nationalism, having a prominent role in religious and civic education, service delivery and dispute resolution. Its members are not primarily interested in accruing political power, but rather view political influence as necessary to the promotion of their moral agenda. Countering its influence requires providing other avenues for communities and youth to participate in these areas with a sense of purpose and belonging. Failure to understand the extent of the services it provides and the support it can muster will lead to ineffective and ultimately counterproductive policy responses. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 International Crisis Group

The 1 September decision by Kenya’s Supreme Court to annul the results of the 8 August presidential election and order a fresh vote was at once unexpected, historic, bold and – by African and almost any other standard – unprecedented. The judgment compels many – Kenya’s political leaders, of course, but also members of the international community – to engage in some introspection. Most urgently, it requires both local and international actors to take urgent steps to ensure that the integrity of the forthcoming election is protected and that both the period leading up to the vote and its aftermath are peaceful. By a 4-2 majority, the court found that the electoral commission had failed to comply with the “dictates of the constitution and the applicable principles” in conducting the poll, rendering the elections “invalid, null and void”. The incumbent, President Uhuru Kenyatta, whom the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission had declared the winner, will now have to take part in a new election to be held within 60 days. In the next three weeks, Supreme Court judges will issue a full judgment outlining the reasons behind their decision. Unsurprisingly, strongholds of opposition leader Raila Odinga in Nairobi, Western Kenya and in the port city of Mombasa celebrated the decision. Odinga himself welcomed the judgment, calling it “a historic day for the people of Kenya, and by extension the people of Africa”. Initially, President Kenyatta struck a conciliatory tone, coupling disagreement with the decision alongside a commitment to respect it. That shifted over time, however. At a rally following the court’s decision, he blamed the judges for attempting to “overturn the will of the people”, and subsequently asserted that the country had a problem with the judiciary that ought to be “fixed”. Kenyatta’s more ominous tone is but one of the many challenges ahead as Kenyans embark on the perilous task of delivering a relatively smooth poll within two months. Improving election supervision At the centre of the looming battle, and by far the trickiest and most divisive issue, is the fate of the electoral body, the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission, (IEBC), which was criticised by the judges for committing “irregularities and illegalities” in running the 8 August election. Odinga’s National Super Alliance (NASA) coalition is demanding wholesale changes in the commission’s secretariat and the resignation of six officials, including Ezra Chiloba, the Commission’s chief executive officer. Conversely, Kenyatta’s camp has signalled it would resist any such change. On 2 September, Deputy President William Ruto ruled out altering the IEBC’s composition, accusing the opposition of not being ready to take part in the rerun. That there were problems with the IEBC systems seems beyond dispute, as Crisis Group warned last March and as the Supreme Court found. Some change therefore will be needed if confidence in the electoral process is to be restored. But reaching an acceptable resolution will require compromise on both sides, not belligerent rhetoric. The opposition and government should immediately begin talks on this matter and seek a pragmatic solution that can be implemented in the tight statutory timelines. Odinga has offered a possible way forward: to get members of parliament to work in a bipartisan manner and agree on the appointment of officials who will conduct the rerun. At a minimum, this is a positive signal, but whatever changes are made should include a rapid assessment of what went wrong during the 8 August election as well as implementation of safeguards to avoid a repeat of those failures. In the absence of an agreement, religious leaders and diplomats with leverage over key actors should step in to broker an acceptable compromise, as they did in October 2016 when the opposition led protests to oust commissioners that presided over the 2013 election. Ultimately, going into the new election, the IEBC should heed Chief Justice David Maraga’s clear admonition: elections are a process, not a single event, and should strictly adhere to the constitution and statutory processes at every stage. In particular, they should ensure that the expensive electronic system procured to improve transparency in transmission of results is deployed effectively and results posted without undue delay. Unexplained delays in releasing returns from tallying centres underpinned early opposition complaints over the 2017 vote. Ensuring effective, non-partisan policing If the electoral commission fared poorly in the elections, police forces did no better. Security forces brutally cracked down on protesters in the aftermath of the voting, with at least 24 Kenyans killed by the police, including a six-month old baby. As an immediate step, the Independent Policing and Oversight Authority (IPOA), the state agency charged with investigating police excesses, should expeditiously probe the killing of innocent civilians and bring charges against suspects. This, combined with a clear statement by the authorities that such behaviour is unlawful and perpetrators will be held to account, should help deter similar behaviour in the run-up to, and aftermath of, the new elections. In the longer term, far deeper reforms of the security forces will be needed, involving in particular greater investment into training for conflict-sensitive policing. The role of observers Observer missions were not spared by Kenyans unhappy with their elections. In reality, observers for the most part made their preliminary statements with caveats, underscoring that they were but initial assessments of voting and counting. Few of those statements could be read as ringing endorsements of the polls, while most highlighted significant flaws. Some observers subsequently took the unusual step of criticising the lack of transparency and speed in tallying of the results. None dismissed Odinga’s complaints, instead calling on him to pursue them through the courts not the streets, which, to his credit, he did, with the stunning results we now know. That only goes so far, however. The impression created, by the statements themselves and by observers’ other pronouncements, was that results were accurate, and it was time to move on. As the Supreme Court explains its reasoning, and more facts come in, there are lessons to be learned by all ahead of the next round. The timing and tone of preliminary statements after a complex and tense election always poses dilemmas for observers. Early statements risk precipitous and flawed assessments, with consequences for observers’ credibility. But they can also calm jittery nerves. In 2007, the European Union delayed its statement by a few days, but was criticised at the time for reinforcing the sense of uncertainty that played into the post-election violence. As in all such circumstances, parties that were involved – such as observer missions and independent organisations, Crisis Group included – stand to gain by engaging in a measure of introspection and lessons learned. There is, particularly among opposition ranks, understandable anger, justified or not, at the international observers’ performance. Yet all Kenyan leaders should hold their fire. Observers, like the media and outside organisations, can play a central role in deterring abuse and in improving the atmosphere in heavily polarised environments marked by low trust in public institutions. Their voice in what is likely to be a fraught campaign and poll over the coming weeks will be critical. In this context, observer missions will need to redouble efforts to define precisely and with greater clarity their conclusions in all public statements. The Supreme Court’s decision represents a victory for the independence of Kenya’s judiciary and the rule of law. The onus now shifts to the country’s politicians, and to those in the international community with influence over them, to act responsibly so that Kenyans can witness a smooth, peaceful and credible vote by the end of October. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 International Crisis Group

The arrest of Mohamed Fali, president of Algeria’s Ahmadiyya community on August 28, 2017, is the latest example of a crackdown on the religious minority, Human Rights Watch said today. Scores of Ahmadis have been prosecuted since June 2016, and some imprisoned for up to six months. Senior government officials have at times claimed that Ahmadis represent a threat to the majority Sunni Muslim faith, and accused them of collusion with foreign powers. Mohamed Fali. © Private “The persecution of Ahmadis and hateful speech from government ministers shows intolerance for minority faiths, whether they claim to be Muslim or not,” said Sarah Leah Whitson, Middle East and North Africa director at Human Rights Watch. “The authorities should immediately release Mohamed Fali and other Algerian Ahmadis and stop attacking this defenseless minority.” At 9 a.m. on August 28, police came to Fali’s home in Ain Sefra, in the province of Naama, and arrested him on the basis of a 15 February in absentia judgment sentencing him to 3 years in prison.. He is being held in Mostaganem prison. Founded in India in 1889 by Mirza Ghulam Ahmad, the Ahmadiyya community identifies itself as Muslim. There are an estimated 2,000 Ahmadis in Algeria, according to the community. Human Rights Watch interviewed six Ahmadis who faced prosecution around the country, including Fali (before his arrest). Human Rights Watch also reviewed the case files in three trials. Fali told Human Rights Watch that the prosecutions started in June 2016 in the Blida governorate, and spread to other areas. A year later, some 266 Ahmadis had faced charges around the country, Fali said. Human Rights Watch could not independently confirm this figure. Authorities charged them under one or more of the following charges, Fali said: denigrating the dogma or precepts of Islam; participation in an unauthorized association; collecting donations without a license; and possession and distribution of documents from foreign sources that endanger national security. At least 20 have faced a charge of practicing religion in an unauthorized place of worship under Algeria’s 2006 law governing non-Muslim religions, Fali told Human Rights Watch, even though Ahmadis consider themselves Muslim. Fali said that convictions and sentences were issued in 123 cases, and have ranged from three months to four years in prison. There were four acquittals. The remaining 161 prosecutions are still in the investigative phase. Fali said 36 persons spent time behind bars, with the longest to date being six months. Several Ahmadis have faced two or more trials, sometimes in different parts of the country. For example, Fali faces charges in six cases and is either under investigation or on trial in Blida, Chlef, Mostaganem, Boufarik, and Sétif. He spent three months in Chlef prison in provisional detention from February to May. Another Ahmadi, who did not want to be identified, said he was prosecuted in three different trials in Blida, Boufarik, and Chlef. Fali told Human Rights Watch that the courts had placed under judicial control at least 70 Ahmadis facing prosecution. This required the defendants to sign in on a regular basis with the court. Authorities have also denied Ahmadis the right to form an association, using broad language in the Associations Law that they had previously used to restrict the right of other Algerian groups to form associations. They demolished a building in Larbaa, in the province of Blida, that Ahmadis were intending to use as a place of worship and as the headquarters for their association, on the pretext that it was an “unauthorized place of worship.” Several Ahmadis told Human Rights Watch that authorities confiscate religious books, documents about the Ahmadiyya faith, computers, identity cards, and passports during searches. One Ahmadi said that they confiscated his university diplomas and never returned them. Ahmadi representatives told Human Rights Watch that at least 17 Ahmadis were suspended from their public-sector jobs. Human Rights Watch reviewed five of these suspensions; in each case, the only grounds provided were the ongoing prosecutions and court cases against the individual. Under the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, which Algeria ratified, governments must ensure the right to freedom of religion, thought, and conscience of everyone under their jurisdiction, and in particular religious minorities. This right includes the freedom to exercise the religion or belief of one’s choice publicly or privately, alone or with others. Algeria’s constitution guarantees freedom of religion but states that “this freedom must be exercised in respect of the law.” Hateful Speech Government ministers have made several anti-Ahmadi comments. In October 2016, the Minister of Religious Affairs Mohamed Aissa described the Ahmadi presence in Algeria as part of a “deliberate sectarian invasion” and declared that the government brought criminal charges against Ahmadis to “stop deviation from religious precepts.” In February, he stated that Ahmadis are damaging the very basis of Islam. In an interview in April 2017, Aissa seemed to have tempered his position. He said that the Algerian statedoes not intend to fight the Ahmadiyya sect. However, on July 5, he reiterated his belief that Ahmadis are manipulated by “a foreign hand” aiming to destabilize the country, and accused their leaders of collusion with Israel. In April, Ahmed Ouyahia, then chief of cabinet to President Abdelaziz Bouteflika, said that “there are no human rights or freedom of religion” in the matter of the Ahmadis, because “Algeria has been a Muslim country for 14 centuries.” He called on Algerians to “protect the country from the Shia and Ahmadiyya sects.” Denial of the Right to Form an Association On November 15, 2015, a group of Ahmadis held a constitutive general assembly to create a new association they called the “Ahmed al-Khair Association” (Ahmed Charity), whose objective, according to bylaws Human Rights Watch has reviewed, is to perform charity projects and to help poor and marginalized communities. On March 26, 2016, they submitted the founding documents to the Ministry of Interior to register the association, as required by the 2012 Associations Law. On May 26, they received a letter from the ministry notifying them of the refusal to register the association. According to the ministry’s reply, which Human Rights Watch has reviewed, the refusal is based mainly on articles 2 and 27 of the Associations Law. Article 2 gives the authorities broad leeway to refuse authorization if they deem the content and objectives of a group’s activities to violate Algeria’s “‘fundamental principles’ (constantes nationales) and values, public order, public morals, and the applicable laws and regulations.” Article 27 lists all the necessary papers and required documents that the association must provide to the ministry to be legally registered. Interference with Faith During Trials Authorities prosecuted the 266 Ahmadis under one or more charges: denigrating the dogma or precepts of Islam, punishable by a prison term of three to five years and a fine of up to 100,000 Algerian dinars (US$908), under article 144 of the penal code; participation in an unauthorized association, under article 46 of the Associations Law, punishable by a prison sentence of three to six months and a fine of 100,000 to 300,000 dinars; collecting donations without a license, under articles 1 and 8 of the decree 03-77 of 1977 regulating donations; conducting worship in unauthorized places, under articles 7, 12, and 13 of Ordinance 06-03 Establishing the Conditions and Rules for the Exercise of non-Muslim Religions; and possession and distribution of documents from foreign sources threatening national security, under article 96-2 of the penal code, punishable by up to three years in prison. Several Ahmadis and their lawyers told Human Rights Watch that prosecutors and trial judges asked defendants intrusive and offensive questions about their religious practice. For example, Salah Debbouz, a lawyer defending many of the prosecuted Ahmadis, said that in a hearing on June 21 before the Batna appeals court, the prosecutor asked defendants: “Why do you profess allegiance to a Hindu and not to the Prophet of Islam? Why do you pray alone and not in a Mosque as other Muslims do?” Mohamed Fali said that the judge in his trial in the first instance court in Chlef, on May 22, 2017, asked him: “Do you believe that Muhammad is the last of the prophets? Why don’t you pray at the Friday prayer at the mosque?” The judges’ reasoning in several convictions of Ahmadis, which Human Rights Watch reviewed, demonstrates that the trials are based on religious arguments. For example, the written judgment against six Ahmadis at the first instance court of Batna, dated March 27, 2017, states that the gendarmerie, while monitoring the activities of the religious groups in its region, received information about the existence of a group of people belonging to the Ahmadiyya faith. They searched their houses and seized all their books, computers, and other documents related to the “offense.” When the gendarmerie interrogated them, they admitted belonging to the Ahmadiyya community and exercising their faith in private settings. They also provided information on why and when they joined the faith. The judgment cites as its basis for the guilty verdict these statements attributed to the six defendants by the police. The written judgment includes quotes from the representative of the Ministry of Religious Affairs who said that the ministry decided to join the case as a civil party (partie civile) because the Ahmadis were disseminating “ideas that are foreign to Algerian society that could have a dangerous impact on the beliefs of the society and its stability.” To justify a guilty finding on the charge of distributing foreign material harmful to national security, the court cites only the seizing of books printed in Great Britain and documents printed from an Ahmadiyya website. It states, “[t]hese books and publications contain ideas that are alien to the national religious framework and this leads necessarily to harming the national interest.” The court defines national interest as being “the economic, military, cultural, or religious principles of the state,” and finds that Ahmadiyya doctrine challenges the national religious identity, which is based on the Malekite rite of Islam. Based on this reasoning, the court convicted the accused of denigrating the dogma or precepts of Islam, participation in an unauthorized association, collecting donations without a license, possession and distribution of documents from foreign sources threatening national security, and sentenced them to four years in prison and a 300,000 dinar fine. It did not retain the charge of practicing religious rites in unauthorized places, stating that Ordinance 06-03 applies only to non-Muslims whereas Ahmadis claim to be Muslims. The defendants have filed an appeal against this verdict, Debbouz, their lawyer, said. Human Rights Watch reviewed two other judgments, one issued by the first instance court in Chlef on May 22, 2017, the second by the first instance court in Blida on January 31, 2017. In both judgments, the courts refer to the circumstances of the arrest, stating that gendarmerie started an investigation after receiving information that the Ahmadis were threatening “the appearance of the religion” and “undermining Islam.” Cases Mohamed Fali, president of the Jamaa Islamia Ahmadia in Algeria (The Islamic Ahmadiyya community), 44, tradesman, lives in Bousmail, Tipaza Fali told Human Rights Watch that he has faced six distinct trials since June 2016. On June 2, 2016, gendarmes and municipal authorities came to demolish the building the Ahmadis were constructing in Larbaa, Blida province, for meetings and prayers. The same day, around 20 gendarmes came to arrest Fali and search his home. They confiscated his computer and books about the Ahmadiyya faith. He stayed five days in the gendarmerie detention center, where he was interrogated, before the first instance court in Blida provisionally released him. The prosecutor charged Fali with participation in an unauthorized association, collecting donations without a license, and possession and distribution of documents from foreign sources threatening national security. On January 31, Fali, who had eight co-defendants in this case, was convicted in absentia while he was detained in another case, and received a six-month sentence and a 200,000 dinar fine. Fali presented himself to the court in Blida to oppose his conviction in this case. His retrial is scheduled to open on September 19. Fali’s second prosecution was in Chlef, where he was provisionally detained for three months between February and May 2017. He received a suspended sentence on May 22 to one year in prison and a 500,000 dinar fine for the same offenses as in the Blida case, in addition to the charge of denigrating the dogma or precepts of Islam. While he was in Chlef prison, he was sentenced in absentia in Mostaganem to three years in prison and a 50.000 dinar fine (USD$449), on February 15, for the same charges as in the Chlef and Blida cases. He appealed his sentence and is awaiting his appeal trial. He was also sentenced to a 100,000 dinar fine in another trial in Boufarik, on January 30, and has two other cases in the investigative phase, in Sétif and in Boufarik. In the second case in Boufarik, the investigative judge put him under judicial control, requiring that he register every Wednesday at the courthouse. He said for each of these investigations the gendarmerie searched his house, confiscated his computers and telephones, arrested and detained him for several days, and interrogated him about his religion, his ties with the Ahmadiyya international movement, and his motivations. On August 28, authorities arrested Fali after a search-and-seizure operation at his house. His lawyer, Debbouz, said that the arrest is linked to his trial in absentia at the Mostaganem court, and that his retrial in this case is scheduled for September 6. He is currently in pretrial detention at the Mostaganem prison. S.B., 37, doctor, from Tipaza S.B., who did not want to be named, said that he has faced three trials since 2016. He was part of the group arrested on June 2, 2016, in Larbaa, Blida province, where a court sentenced him to six months in prison in absentia while he was detained for another case, and a 200,000 dinar fine on charges of participating in an unauthorized association; collecting donations without a license; and possessing and distributing documents from foreign sources threatening national security. S.B. presented himself to the court to oppose his conviction in absentia. His retrial is scheduled to open on September 19, 2017. The second trial of S.B. took place on January 30, in Boufarik, where he received a 100,000 dinar fine on the same charges. The third was in Chlef, for which he spent three months in provisional detention and received a one-year suspended sentence on May 22. He also said that the Chlef hospital suspended him from his post as a doctor. Human Rights Watch reviewed the decision by Chlef hospital, dated February 22, 2017 and signed by the director, which cites the prosecution of S.B. as a basis for the measure and the temporary suspension of his salary. Z.M., 29, Salesman, from Chraga Z.M., who asked not to be named for fear of retaliation, said he used to work as a salesman in his father’s shop. Gendarmes came to his house on October 5, 2016, seized books, printed material, and the founding documents of the Ahmadiyya charity association Ahmad al-Khair, and arrested him for interrogation. He spent one night in detention. Gendarmes transferred him the next day to the prosecutor’s office, who indicted him on the charge of “belonging to an unauthorized association” and “possession of foreign documents threatening state security.” The first instance court in Douera sentenced him to 18 months in prison, suspended, and a 100,000 dinar fine. He said the appeals court confirmed the lower court’s decision. He said during the appeals hearing, the trial judge asked him, “Are you aware of the Koranic verse that says, ‘Those who change their faith should be killed?’” B.S.H., 24, University Student, from a City Southwest of Algiers B.S.H., who also asked not to be named for fear of retaliation, said he was first prosecuted in June 2016 with eight other Ahmadis. The gendarmerie arrested him in Larbaa on June 2, 2016, after authorities destroyed the Ahmadi house of worship under construction. Provisionally released after the gendarmerie interrogated him, B.S.H. was tried and sentenced in absentia by the first instance court in Blida to six months in prison and a 200,000 dinar fine on charges of participating in an unauthorized association; collecting donations without a license; and possessing and distributing documents from foreign sources threatening national security. Like his co-defendants Fali and S.B., he opposed his conviction and is scheduled to have a new trial on September 19. On March 1, gendarmes arrested him again and searched his house, seizing his computer and cell phone. The investigative judge in the first instance tribunal ordered his provisional detention for three and a half months. A court sentenced him to a 50,000 dinar fine on June 18, on the charge of participation in an unauthorized association, and released him from prison. H.I., 29, student in Chraga H.I. told Human Rights Watch that he was prosecuted and sentenced twice on charges of belonging to an unauthorized association, possession and distribution of foreign documents threatening state security, and collecting donations without a license. The first prosecution was before a Tipaza court, which sentenced him on December 28 to 18 months in prison, suspended, and a 100,000 dinar fine. The appeals court confirmed the sentence on April 2. At H.I.’s second trial, the first instance court in Chlef sentenced him on May 22 to three months in prison, suspended, and a 50,000 dinar fine. He has appealed the verdict, he said. In the Chlef judgment, which Human Rights Watch reviewed, the judges ruled that the mere possession of books on the Ahmadiyya faith, which gendarmes seized from H.I.’s home, was sufficient proof that he was engaged in a “proselytizing enterprise that could destroy the unity of society and threaten public order, since the Islamic religion is a pillar of the national identity and is enshrined in the Constitution.” Algerian Legislation and International Standards on Freedom of Religion Article 18 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) guarantees individuals the right to hold and to display their religious beliefs. It states: Everyone shall have the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion. This right shall include freedom to have or to adopt a religion or belief of his choice, and freedom, either individually or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in worship, observance, practice and teaching. No one shall be subject to coercion which would impair his freedom to have or to adopt a religion or belief of his choice. The UN Human Rights Committee’s General Comment No. 22 to Article 18 specifies that freedom of thought, including freedom of conscience and religious conviction, is a right that cannot be limited. Article 27 of the ICCPR states, “In those States in which ethnic, religious or linguistic minorities exist, persons belonging to such minorities shall not be denied the right, in community with the other members of their group, to enjoy their own culture, to profess and practice their own religion, or to use their own language.” The committee, in its General Comment No. 22, expressed concern with “any tendency to discriminate against any religion or belief for any reason, including the fact that they are newly established, or represent religious minorities that may be the subject of hostility on the part of a predominant religious community.” The Algerian constitution provides for religious freedom, but states that “exercise of this freedom must be done in respect of the law.” The main law governing the practice of non-Muslim religions, Ordinance 06-03 of February 28, 2006, restricts the religious freedom of, and discriminates against, non-Muslims, by imposing restrictive regulations on worships from which Muslims are exempt. Collective worship can take place only in a building designated for that purpose and with prior permission from the National Commission for the Practice of Religions. Collective worship can be organized only by religious organizations that have been established according to the law. Under Ordinance 06-03, proselytizing by non-Muslims is a criminal offense and carries a maximum punishment of one million dinars ($12,845) and five years’ imprisonment for anyone who “incites, constrains, or utilizes means of seduction tending to convert a Muslim to another religion; or by using to this end establishments of teaching, education, health, social, culture, training…or any financial means.” Authorities used the Ordinance 06-03 to prosecute four Protestant Christians in August 2008, and courts sentenced them to two to three months in prison, suspended. Ordinance 06-03, by imposing blanket prohibitions on proselytizing, which apply only to non-Muslims, violates the right of individuals under the ICCPR to the “freedom to have or to adopt a religion or belief of his choice.” According to the UN Committee, freedom of religion includes “the freedom to prepare and distribute religious texts or publications,” and “the right to replace one’s current religion or belief with another.” The Algerian penal code also criminalizes “offending the Prophet Muhammad” and denigrating the creed or prophets of Islam. Authorities used these provisions on September 6, 2016 to convict and sentence Slimane Bouhafs, a Christian convert, to three years in prison. He is still serving time in Belair prison in Sétif province. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c0 2017 Human Rights Watch

In a season of repeated North Korean provocative steps, the 3 September underground nuclear test ranks as the most serious to date. Not only will it significantly inflame regional and international tensions, but it also is inherently dangerous. The test, which was felt across swathes of Jilin province, China, about 100km away, inevitably presents the risk of radioactive gas venting from the subterranean test site, with potentially horrific consequences for the health and livelihoods of local people. Objectionable and perilous as it might be, this development – like the series of missile tests that Pyongyang conducted in recent months – essentially amounts to another reminder that the North Korean government is determined to push forward with its military nuclear and missile programs. This, the sixth such nuclear test since 2006, proves North Korea’s capacity to build devices many times more powerful than those used by the U.S. against Japan in 1945. Pyongyang aims to demonstrate its nuclear deterrent capability to the world once and for all, prior to the 70th anniversary of its founding in September 2018. It won’t be stopped by the short-run costs of its actions in terms of international isolation, U.S. threats, or sanctions. But although there is reason to worry, there is no reason to panic. One critical step to reduce the risk of military conflict would be for the U.S. and South Korea to better coordinate their efforts on behalf of the security of South Korea and its people. South Korea is perennially tempted, particularly under liberal presidents, to see its military alliance with the U.S. as a major obstacle to better relations with the North and thus to believe that downgrading or reconsidering it could be a possible solution. This reading, though it may once have been true, ignores decades of history between the Koreas. For its part, the current U.S. administration says it is uncertain about the utility of stationing troops abroad. But weakening this alliance risks emboldening North Korea. It is essential to hold the line. At the same time, it is imperative that Washington, Seoul, Beijing and all other stakeholders redouble their efforts to craft a common diplomatic approach. The unanimous passage of another UN Security Council resolution would be welcome, but – as evidenced by Pyongyang’s response to the last such step – clearly insufficient. A more coherent, united diplomatic approach is needed to complement steps to deter North Korea, given the apparent inability of outsiders to force Pyongyang to step back from its goal of militarising its nuclear capacity. In this respect, some of President Trump’s latest intimations or pronouncements – suggesting that South Korea is flirting with appeasement; contemplating an exit from the South Korea trade deal; or toying with the prospect of a preventive war – are self-inflicted wounds. Instead, the focus ought to be on unified deterrence and diplomacy, in particular reaching agreement on the principle of initiating talks with Pyongyang, even at the price of controversial concessions such as removing any precondition or barrier to negotiations. There is no other viable way forward. And it may conceivably be a way to which Pyongyang ultimately accedes. Indeed, its triumphalist tone notwithstanding, domestic reporting from North Korea suggests the regime also wanted to convey the message that it is a responsible actor, that its nuclear program is secure, and that it is aimed solely at credibly deterring U.S. aggression. State media led with a report on a meeting of the country’s politburo standing committee convened on the morning of the test, during which international circumstances and peninsula tensions were debated by leaders of party, state and military. Only then did they report on the successful nuclear test itself. Such subtleties will be of cold comfort to those for whom North Korea looms as their greatest threat. But it might be read as North Korea’s very indirect invitation to start talks. If that is the case, of course, there would be ways for North Korea to more clearly signal its intent. If the latest test really truly involved a thermonuclear weapon capable of being mounted, then Pyongyang has achieved its technical goal. It could seize the opportunity to declare an immediate moratorium on further testing. In that context, it also could work with the Chinese government to ensure that the 3 September test has not negatively impacted the environment of the Yanbian region just across their shared border. Finally, it could offer to cooperate with the Republic of Korea on the long overdue task of reestablishing a military hotline between the two countries. These are all minimum steps North Korea would take if it wished to reassure the world that it does not intend the current crisis to get any worse. They also are unlikely, at least in the short term, which is why the burden almost certainly will fall on outside actors – the U.S., South Korea and China prime among them – to forge a coherent approach combining deterrence with diplomacy. And why they will need to avoid needless divisions and discordant messages that undermine their effectiveness, send mixed messages and thus heighten the very risks they have every interest in lessening. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 International Crisis Group

China appears to be intensifying its crackdowns on North Korean escapees attempting to transit through China to seek protection, Human Rights Watch said today. According to activists and North Koreans living South Korea who are in contact with people in China and North Korea, China has detained at least 41 North Korean refugees, and an undetermined number of their guides, in the past two months. Security has been constantly increasing over the past five years in areas on both sides of the border between North Korea and China, with increased numbers of border guards and more barbed wire fencing. China has also expanded CCTV surveillance on the border and increased checkpoints on roads leading away from the border. The North Korean government systematically detains and punishes all those caught trying to leave the country without permission, as well as those apprehended and forcibly returned by China. Leaving the country illegally is a crime and those who are apprehended can be punished by imprisonment in long term prison camps for serious crimes (kyohwaso) or prison camps for political offenses (kwanliso), both of which have long been documented to be facilities where torture, starvation, and inadequate medical care are endemic. “China has known for years that North Korea security officials use torture as a matter of longstanding state policy and practice, and imprison people who leave the country without permission,” said Phil Robertson, deputy Asia Director at Human Rights Watch. “By returning them to a place of torture and persecution, China is clearly violating international law and its obligations as a nation that has ratified the UN Refugee Convention.” Human Rights Watch documented 41 North Koreans detained by China in July and August 2017 in different locations including in Xishuangbanna Dai Autonomous Prefecture (near to the Lao-China border) in Yunnan province and near the North Korea-China border around Changbai. Total numbers of fleeing North Koreans, as well as those apprehended, are almost impossible to authoritatively determine, but the number of known recent detentions is a steep increase from the approximately 51 persons caught by China that Human Rights Watch documented over the course of a year, between July 2016 and June 2017. These 92 known cases since July 2016 include a baby born in detention, 11 children, and 4 older women in frail health. Human Rights Watch calls on both China and North Korea to provide information about the total number of North Koreans apprehended in China, the number forcibly returned by China to North Korea, and their present whereabouts and conditions. Based on accounts from family members and activists in South Korea, Human Rights Watch estimates that China has already forcibly returned at least 37 North Koreans since July 2016. Some of the North Koreans forcibly returned in June and July 2017 had been held in the Tumen immigration detention facility in a group of other unknown North Korean detainees who were sent back, according to family members and activists. Immediate action needs to be taken to prevent the other 55 North Koreans that Human Rights Watch has concerns are in Chinese detention from joining them. China routinely labels North Koreans as illegal “economic migrants” rather than accepting them as refugees. China is a state party to the UN Refugee Convention but Beijing continues to defy its obligations under international human rights law to provide refugees protection and safety, and allow UNHCR access to North Korean asylum seekers. Departing without official permission is considered a serious crime in North Korea, frequently punished by imprisonment, forced labor, and physical abuse. In the most severe cases, it can be punished by death. Since the State Security Agency (bowibu) and the Ministry of People’s Security (police) tortures and severely punishes all North Koreans in China who left North Korea without permission, Human Rights Watch regards those persons as refugees sur place in need of urgent international protection. Human Rights Watch also regards their forcible return as a violation of the principle of refoulement, the bar on returning refugees to the risk of being persecuted and the return of anyone to the threat of being tortured. North Koreans forcibly returned by China regularly endure torture while being interrogated about their activities abroad. North Korea’s Ministry of People’s Security enforces a decree that classifies defection as a crime of “treachery against the nation.” Punishments are harsh, and can include a death sentence. Those that the state decides to imprison disappear into North Korea’s horrific political prison camp system (kwanliso), where prisoners face torture, sexual violence, forced labor, and other inhuman treatment, or to forced labor camps where they will spend years working in dangerous conditions and harsh weather. It appears that China is not only apprehending and returning more North Koreans, but is also cracking down on the networks that facilitate their escape. One Christian missionary explained to Human Rights Watch that his large rescue network’s capacity had fallen by approximately 80 percent of what it was before June 2017 because of China’s detention of his network’s members and guides. Another activist involved with a smaller, more discrete network estimated that his ability to transport North Koreans had dropped 20 percent because members of his network became more reluctant to take risks by transporting unfamiliar persons. Three activists helping North Koreans who visited the China-North Korea border along the Tumen river in August told Human Rights Watch it had become virtually impossible to get close enough to even see the river because of increased security patrols and other activities, in contrast to the summer of 2016 when they had been able to access it without problems. “Intercepting North Koreans on the move retards international efforts to document ongoing human rights violations in North Korea by preventing people from speaking to the outside world about conditions in the country,” said Robertson. “China’s help is important for North Korean leader Kim-Jong Un’s efforts to suppress new accounts of his systemic and pervasive rights crimes against his countrymen.” North Korea continues to strengthen its efforts to prevent its citizens from escaping the country. Two missionaries involved in networks assisting fleeing North Koreans explained to Human Rights Watch that since the beginning of 2017, they were aware of at least three instances in which Chinese authorities detained North Koreans on the road after receiving an anonymous tip that the group was involved with transporting narcotics. The source of these tips to Chinese police is unclear and cannot be confirmed, but many activists told Human Rights Watch that they suspect North Korean government agents were the ones providing those tip-offs about groups of North Koreans on the road. A 2014 UN Commission of Inquiry on Human Rights in North Korea found that those fleeing the country are targeted as part of a “systematic and widespread attack against populations considered to pose a threat to the political system and leadership of the DPRK” as they threaten the government’s ability “to isolate the population from contact with the outside world.” It also found that crimes against humanity, including torture, execution, enslavement, and sexual violence, are committed against prisoners and people forcibly returned to North Korea from China. The Commission also criticized China for failing to live up to its obligations as a state party to the 1951 Refugee Convention and its 1967 Protocol. “China should be principled or practical by either by providing North Korean refugees asylum or allowing them to safely pass through Chinese territory without fear of arrest and forced repatriation as they seek protection elsewhere,” said Robertson. “These forced returns to North Korea must stop. It’s time for governments around the world to pressure China to do the right thing for North Korean refugees.” ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ (c) 2017 Human Rights Watch