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Conspiracy theories in Thailand's 'Deep South' By csmonitor.com staff
Simon Montlake - Correspondent
In Thailand's Muslim-dominated Deep South, as Thais call it (its humid,
yes, but the similarities to the US Deep South end there), Ive discovered
that sometimes the closer you get to a story, the less you see.
Let me explain.
This was my third attempt since January 2004 to make sense of what lies
behind the frequent bombings, shootings and arson attacks (see story).
Each time, Ive run into the same brick wall: many locals arent convinced
there is an insurgency, let alone one directed by Muslim separatists.
From afar, the pattern seems clear. Soldiers, police, and government
officials are shot. Schools, banks, and utilities are bombed. Muslims
suspected of snitching to the authorities are silenced.
Thats exactly what youre supposed to think, a Thai army officer told me.
The criminals are using the separatists as cover for their normal
activities.
Normal? Yes, he continued, as we barreled down the highway, swerving past
army checkpoints. One had red-and-white irrigation pipes spliced into a
X-shaped barrier; someone had jammed hairy coconut husks into the pipe
ends.
According to the officer, only 30% of the violence consisted of terrorist
acts committed by the separatists. Criminals who thrived on mayhem were
responsible for 50%. The rest was political or personal.
So who are the terrorists? Analysts and government officials can reel off
names, organizations, and networks.
But ask a Muslim villager and he might tell you that its all a smokescreen
for corrupt officials involved in border smuggling rackets. This theory
conveniently unites the criminal and political, and leaves out the
terrorists (who appear to be homegrown, at this stage).
On the second day of my latest trip, I met Masakrit, a burly man with a
graying crewcut who seemed to have a foot in several camps.
The scion of a prominent Muslim family, he had been accused of trafficking
drugs, then linked to last years deadly raid on an army camp that ignited
the current insurgency.
After fleeing to neighboring Malaysia, he returned in February and met with
some government heavy-hitters in Bangkok who decided he was innocent of all
charges. Now hes a peace envoy of sorts.
We drove into the countryside to visit his village where, he assured me, I
would see his modest house and realize what a modest man he was.
They said Im a drug dealer. But look at my house? Is this the house of a
wealthy man? he grumbled.
Indeed, it was a modest house, as was his wifes noodle stall in the front
yard. Ducking into the shade, Masakrit began offering his insights on the
insurgency, saying that Thai drug dealers were behind it.
And the separatists? Only 4% of the Muslim population wanted to break away
and form an independent state, he said. (Thats about 50,000 people, by the
way.)
He seemed most aggrieved at his familys treatment at the hands of the Thai
government, which had relieved him of his old job of village chief.
When Id heard enough of his martyrdom, he brightened up and suggested
trying his wifes excellent noodle soup.
Keen to talk to other locals, I agreed. The first one I met puffed out his
chest and said he was the village chief.
Yes, cried Masakrit. Meet my brother!
Clearly the governments persecution of his family was of a limited nature.
Later that day, I visited a family-run Islamic boarding school that had
been shut down after an Army raid recovered training videos and weapons.
Id visited several Islamic schools in southern Thailand with a similar
layout of dilapidated wooden huts in a sandy clearing of coconut palms,
plus a family house.
The schools name gave me pause for thought. The hand-painted sign read,
Jihad Wittaya school, in Thai and English. Here, according to the Thai
Army, was a recruiting and training center for the insurgency.
I asked the laconic son of the schools director, who had been arrested and
released on bail, about the white crosses painted on the huts and the
schools row of classrooms.
We dont know how they got there, he said. Apparently a truck was heard
during the night, and in the morning the crosses were there.
Unfortunately, sitting down to a proper chat with this man, a crucial
source for the story I was writing, was difficult.
The reason was that we werent the first on the scene. Two Muslim men from
a Thai Senate fact-finding team were already there to interview him.
This seemed fortuitous for my story, since they were presumably also trying
to throw some light on this shadowy conflict.
Once introduced, the team leader told me he was willing to share his theory
on what was really going on in the Deep South.
Apparently the masterminds behind all the violence were wait for it the
CIA. Naturally, they had a motive, he continued. America wants to control
the sea lanes.
He then questioned my credentials and warned that local people would all
assume I was CIA, too.
(Later that evening, when I ran into his team at my hotel, I asked if he
really believed I was CIA. He did. So I sat him down at the PC in the lobby
and Googled my name and the Monitor. I dont think it swayed him.)
When I asked if there were any other competing theories, he nodded sagely.
China was also involved in the plot, together with Thailands biggest
chicken producer that was run by ethnic-Chinese investors.
Their motive was to wrest control of the fertile coastal plain and force
Muslims to work for a pittance to produce cheap produce.
Finally, the arch conspirator slunk off to continue his research, leaving
me to my interview.
Afterwards, we drove to the nearest town Pattani where we would spend the
night. In the center of town, I noticed hundreds of people gathering by the
river and a sea of fluorescent-lit food stalls.
"Whats going on?" I asked my assistant. "Oh, this? Its the Annual Pattani
Chicken Festival," she explained.
Chicken Festival? Maybe there is a conspiracy, after all. A poultry one.
