These men, aspiring migrants who were abandoned by traffickers on the open ocean, were recently rescued by the Border Guard Bangladesh (BGB) and reunited with their families in Teknaf, located in the southern coastal district of Cox’s Bazar. Credit: Abdur Rahman/IPS

By Naimul Haq
TEKNAF, Bangladesh, Jun 30 2015 (IPS)

Though he is only 16 years old, Mohammad Yasin has been through hell and back. He recently survived a hazardous journey by sea, crammed into the cargo-hold of a rudimentary boat along with 115 others.

For 45 days they bobbed about on the Indian Ocean somewhere between their native Bangladesh and their destination, Malaysia, with scarcely any food, no water and little hope of making it to shore alive.

Midway through the ordeal, Yasin watched one of his fellow travelers die of starvation, a fate that very nearly claimed him as well.

The young man, who hails from a poor cobbler’s family in Teknaf, located on the southernmost tip of Bangladesh’s coastal district of Cox’s Bazaar, broke down in tears as he narrated the tale, putting a human face to the story of a major exodus of migrants and political refugees in Southeast Asia that has rights groups as well as the United Nations up in arms.

45 days of torture

“Horror unfolded as we sailed. Supplies were scarce and food and water was rationed every three days. Many of us vomited as the boat negotiated the mighty waves." -- ” Mohammad Ripon, a Bangladeshi migrant who survived a torturous maritime journey
Yasin tells IPS it all began when a group of men from the neighbouring Bandarban district promised to take him, and five others from Teknaf village, to Malaysia in search of work.

With an 80-dollar monthly salary and a family of four to look after, including a sick father, Yasin believed Malaysia to be a ‘dream destination’ where he would earn enough to provide for his loved ones.

“The men told us we would not have to pay anything now, but that they would later ‘deduct’ 2,600 dollars from each of us once we got jobs in Malaysia,” recounted the frail youth.

“On a sunny morning around the last week of April we were taken along with a larger group of men and women to the deserted island of Shah Porir Dwip, where we boarded a large wooden boat later that same evening.”

A little while into the journey on the Bay of Bengal, at the Chaungthar port located in the city of Pathein in southern Myanmar, a group of Rohingya Muslims joined the party.

This ethnic minority has long faced religious persecution in Myanmar and now contributes hugely to the movement of human beings around this region.

Together with the 10 organisers of the voyage, who turned out to be traffickers, the group numbered close to 130 people. Just how they would reach their destination, or when, none of the passengers knew. Their lives were entirely in the hands of the boat’s crew.

“Horror unfolded as we sailed,” recalled Mohammad Ripon, who also joined the journey at the behest of traffickers from the central Bangladeshi district of Narayanganj.

“Supplies were scarce and food and water was rationed every three days. Many of us vomited as the boat negotiated the mighty waves,” he told IPS.

During the day the crew opened the hatch of the cargo vessel to let in the blistering sun. At night it was kept shut, leaving the passengers to freeze. No one could sleep; the shrieks and cries of sick and frightened passengers kept the entire company awake all night long.

From time to time, the boat stalled on the choppy waters, “probably to change crews”, the passengers told IPS.

But no one knew for sure, and none dared ask for risk of being physically abused or thrown overboard. By this time, their captors had already beaten a number of the passengers for asking too many questions.

After nearly a month and a half of this torture, the Bangladesh Coast Guard steered the boat in to Saint Martin’s island, off the coast of Cox’s Bazar – very close to where the hopeful immigrants had begun their journey.

It was not until the malnourished passengers emerged, with sunken eyes and protruding ribs, that they realised the crew had long since abandoned the ship.

Traffickers exploiting poverty

Though their dreams were dashed, this group is one of the lucky ones; they escaped with their lives, their possessions and their money.

For too many others, these illicit journeys result in being robbed, pitched overboard or even buried in mass graves by networks of smugglers and traffickers who are making a killing by exploiting economically desperate and politically marginalised communities in Southeast Asia.

According to the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees, an estimated 88,000 people –mostly poor Bangladeshis and internally displaced Rohingya Muslims in Myanmar – attempted to cross the borders into Thailand, Malaysia or Indonesia in a 15-month period.

This includes 63,000 people between January and December of 2014 and an additional 25,000 in the first quarter of this year.

Of these, an estimated 300 people died at sea in the first quarter of 2015. Since October 2014, 620 people have lost their lives during hazardous, unplanned maritime journeys on the Bay of Bengal.

To make matters worse, the discovery of trafficking rings has prompted governments in the region – particularly Thai and Malaysian authorities – to crack down on irregular arrivals, refusing to allow ships to dock and sometimes going so far as to tow boatloads of people back out to sea despite the presence of desperate and starving people on-board.

From humble aspirations to hazardous journeys

Aspiring migrants from Bangladesh are fleeing poverty and unemployment in this country of close to 157 million people, 31 percent of whom live below the poverty line.

Data from the Bangladesh Bureau of Statistics (BBS) suggests that the unemployment rate is 4.53 percent, putting the number of out-of-work people here at close to 6.7 million.

Mohammad Hasan, 34, is one of many who dreamed of a more prosperous life in a different country.

A tall, dark welder from Boliadangi, a village in the northwestern Thakurgaon district, he told IPS, “I sold my ancestral land to travel to Malaysia where I hoped to get a welding job in a construction company, because my earnings were not enough to support my six-member family.”

At the time, he was earning less than 100 dollars a month. Feeding seven people on 1,200 Bangladeshi taka (about 15 dollars) a day is no easy task. Desperate, he put his life in the hands of traffickers and set out for the Malaysian coast.

Earlier this year, abandoned by those who had promised them safe passage, he and close to 100 other men were discovered drifting off the coast of Thailand. Fortunately, all of them survived, but the money they paid for the journey was lost.

Forty-one-year-old Kawser Ali from Gangachara, a village in the northern Rangpur District, had a similar tale. He says he made a break for foreign shores because his earnings as a farmer simply weren’t enough to put enough food on the table to keep his eight-member family, including his in-laws, alive.

Millions of people here share his woes: between 60 and 70 percent of Bangladesh’s population relies on agriculture for a livelihood, and the vast majority of them struggle to make ends meet.

Thus it should come as no surprise that Kawser was recently found deep within a forest in Thailand where he and some 50 others had been led by traffickers and abandoned to their own fate.

He told IPS that most of his companions along the journey were marginal farmers, like himself. “We have no fixed income, and can never earn enough to improve our economic condition. I would like to see my son go to a better school, or take my wife to market on a motorbike.”

It is these humble aspirations – together with tales from friends and neighbours who have made the transition successfully – that have led scores of people Kawser to the coast, to board unsafe vessels and put themselves at the mercy of the sea and smugglers in exchange for a chance to make a better life.

Aninda Dutta, a programme associate for the International Organisation for Migration (IOM) in Bangladesh, told IPS, “In Bangladesh, there is a strong link between migration and smuggling, in which a journey that starts through economic motivations may end up as a trafficking case because of the circumstances.”

These ‘circumstances’ include extortionate fees paid to so-called agents, essentially rings of smugglers and human traffickers; beatings and other forms of intimidation and abuse – including sexual abuse – during the journey; theft of all their possessions while at sea; or abandonment, penniless, in various locations – primarily Thailand or Malaysia – where they are subject to the ire of immigration authorities.

In a bid to nip the epidemic in the bud, the Border Guard Bangladesh (BGB) recently set up more checkpoints to increase vigilance, and proposed that the government tighten regulations regarding the registering of boats.

But until the government tackles the underlying problem of abject poverty, it is unlikely that they will see an end to the exodus any time soon.

Edited by Kanya D’Almeida

Yury Fedotov, Executive Director of the U.N. Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) with U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon. "The magnitude of the problems we face is such that it is sometimes hard to imagine how any effort can be enough to confront them. But to quote Nelson Mandela, 'It always seems impossible until it is done'. We must keep working together, until it is done" – Yury Fedotov. Credit: Courtesy of UNODC

By Yury Fedotov
VIENNA, May 27 2015 (IPS)

With terrorism, migrant smuggling and trafficking in cultural property some of the world’s most daunting challenges, “the magnitude of the problems we face is such that it is sometimes hard to imagine how any effort can be enough to confront them. But to quote Nelson Mandela, ‘It always seems impossible until it is done’. We must keep working together, until it is done.”

The words are those of U.N. Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) Executive Director Yury Fedotov, who was speaking at the closing of the 24th Session of the Commission on Crime Prevention and Criminal Justice (Crime Commission) held in the Austrian capital from May 18-22.

Earlier this month, IPS Editor-in-Chief Ramesh Jaura interviewed Fedotov on how the challenges facing the United Nations’ drugs and crime agency translate into challenges on the sustainable development front.“The share of citizens experiencing bribery at least once in a year is over 50 percent in some low-income countries. Many detected human trafficking movements are directed from poor areas to more affluent ones. Research also suggests that weak rule of law is connected to lower levels of economic development” – UNODC Executive Director Yury Fedotov

Q. The United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC), established in 1997, understands itself as “a global leader in the fight against illicit drugs and international crime”. At the same time, you have taken up the cudgels on behalf of sustainable development. What role does the UNODC envisage for itself in achieving sustainable development goals to be agreed at the U.N. summit to adopt the post-2015 development agenda in September?

A. Crime steals from countries, families and communities and hampers development while exacerbating inequality and violence, especially in vulnerable countries. Trafficking in diamonds and precious metals, for instance, diverts resources from countries that desperately need the income.

The share of citizens experiencing bribery at least once in a year is over 50 percent in some low-income countries. Many detected human trafficking movements are directed from poor areas to more affluent ones. Research also suggests that weak rule of law is connected to lower levels of economic development. These are just some of the many challenges that the international community faces around the world that are related to crime.

UNODC’s broad mandate includes stopping human traffickers and migrant smugglers, as well as tackling illicit drugs. It encompasses promoting health and alternative livelihoods and involves battling corruption, illicit financial flows, money laundering and terrorist financing. Our work confronts emerging and re-emerging crimes, including wildlife and forest crime, and cybercrime, among others, all of which hinder sustainable development.

Currently the United Nations is making the transition from the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) to the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). In Goal 16, the Open Working Group, responsible for identifying the development goals stressed the need to promote peaceful and inclusive societies for sustainable development, and to provide access to justice for all, as well as building effective, accountable and inclusive institutions. Justice is also one of the six essential elements identified by the Secretary-General in his own Synthesis Report on this subject.

Goal 3, which focuses on “ensuring healthy lives”, underlines the importance of strengthening prevention and treatment of substance abuse. These goals – justice and health – go to the very heart of UNODC’s mission. I am hopeful that when the U.N. Heads of State Summit on Sustainable Development in September 2015 takes place these goals will remain.

Q. UNODC organised its Thirteenth Congress on Crime Prevention and Criminal Justice from Apr. 12 to 19 in Doha, Qatar. The 13-page Doha Declaration contains recommendations on how the rule of law can protect and promote sustainable development. Is that the reason that you described Doha as a “point of departure”?

A. The Doha Declaration was passed by acclamation at the 13th Congress on Crime Prevention and Criminal Justice, and contains crucial recommendations on how the rule of law can protect and promote sustainable development. The declaration is driven by the principle that these issues are mutually reinforcing and that crime prevention and criminal justice should be integrated into the wider U.N. system.

At the 24th Session of the Commission on Crime Prevention and Criminal Justice (May 18-22), there were nine resolutions before the Commission and they pave the way for the Doha Declaration to go before the U.N. General Assembly and ECOSOC for approval. The other resolutions, for instance on cultural property and standard rules on the treatment of prisoners, seek to implement the principles of the Doha Declaration.

It is for this reason that I described the 13th Crime Congress in Doha as a significant “point of departure”. Doha is the first, but not the last step in the process of implementing the Declaration and ensuring that we turn fine words into spirited and dedicated action in the areas of crime prevention and criminal justice – action that can benefit the millions of victims of crime, illicit drugs, corruption and terrorism.

If we do this, we have an opportunity to energise the 60-year legacy of Crime Congresses and give it the power to shape how we tackle crime and promote development for many years to come. Indeed, I see a strong, visible thread between the recent Crime Congress, September’s UN Summit on Sustainable Development and the 14^th Crime Congress in Japan in five years’ time.

Q. The Doha Declaration also pleads for integrating crime prevention and criminal justice into the wider United Nations agenda. This suggestion comes at a point in time when the United Nations is turning 70. Are there some issues which the United Nations has ignored until now or is there a range of issues that have emerged over previous decades?

A. Member States are increasingly affected by organised crime, corruption, violence and terrorism. These challenges undercut good governance and the rule of law, threatening security, development and people’s lives.

Sustainable development can be safeguarded through fair, human and effective crime prevention and criminal justice systems as a central component of the rule of law. As stated by U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon: “There is no peace without development; there is no development without peace; and there is no lasting peace and sustainable development without respect for human rights.”  We need to break down the walls between these activities and integrate the various approaches.

UNODC is well placed to assist. We work closely with regional entities, partner countries, multilateral and bilateral bodies, civil society, academia and the private sector to support the work on development. We can also offer our support at the global, regional, and local levels, through our headquarters and network of field offices.

Q. Do you find willingness on the part of all countries around the world to agree on national, regional and international legal instruments, to combat all forms of crime, and their willingness to pull on the same string when it comes to implementation?

A. Our work is founded on the U.N. Convention against Transnational Organised Crime and its three protocols, the Convention against Corruption, international drug control conventions, universal legal instruments against terrorism and U.N. standards and norms on crime prevention and criminal justice.

Almost all of these international instruments have been universally ratified by the international community. Why? Because countries recognise that crime today is too big, too powerful, too profitable for any one country to handle alone. Countries recognise that, today, crime not only crosses country borders, but regional borders. It is a global problem that warrants comprehensive, integrated global solutions.

The UNODC approach to this unique challenge is threefold. First, we are building political commitment among Member States. Second, we deliver our activities through our integrated regional programmes across the world. Third, we are working with partners, both within and outside the United Nations, to ensure that our delivery is strongly connected to other activities at the field level.

In support of this action, and to give just one example, UNODC is networking the networks. Today’s criminals have widespread networks and vast resources; if we are to successfully confront them, we need to ensure greater cross-border cooperation, information sharing and tracking of criminal proceeds.  The initiative is part of an interregional drug control approach developed by UNODC to stem illicit drug trafficking from Afghanistan and focuses on promoting closer cooperation between existing law enforcement coordination centres and platforms.

Q. UNODC has assigned itself a wide range of tasks. Which are your priorities in the biennium ending this year, during which you have 760.1 million dollars at your disposal?

A. I would mention two matters that are of international importance. First, smuggling of migrants not just in the Mediterranean or the Andaman seas, but also elsewhere. We are witnessing unprecedented movements of people across the globe, the largest since the Second World War. People are leaving because of conflict, insecurity and the desire for a better life. They are falling into the arms of unscrupulous smugglers and many of them are dying, while trying to make the dangerous journey across deserts and seas.

Second, the nexus of transnational organised crime and terrorism is a major threat to global peace and security, and has been recognised as such in recent Security Council resolutions. Every extremist and terrorist group requires sustainable funding. The most reliable, and sometimes the only, means of achieving this is through illicit funds gained from transnational organised crime, including cybercrime, drug trafficking, people smuggling and many other crimes.

Information on the magnitude and exact nature of such relationships remains incomplete, and more research is needed. Based on data and analysis, however, for some regions, we can follow the funding in support of violent extremism and terrorism. In Afghanistan, for example, the Taliban could be receiving as much as 200 million dollars annually as a tax on the drug lords.

Edited by Phil Harris    

Excerpt:

Trucks loaded with sacks of wheat are being smuggled across Pakistan’s borders into Afghanistan. Credit: Ashfaq Yusufzai/IPS

By Ashfaq Yusufzai
PESHAWAR, Pakistan, Jun 4 2014 (IPS)

With its lush valleys and well-watered plains, Pakistan’s northwestern Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP) province produces plenty of food for the local population, including 10 million tons of wheat every year. So why are the people of this bountiful mountainous region going hungry?

The answer lies just across the 2,400-km-long border that separates the country from neighbouring Afghanistan, in the food-stalls, shops and grocery stores where the bulk of the KP’s foodstuffs are sold for hugely inflated prices.

Locals and experts blame the massive smuggling network that whisks wheat out of Pakistan’s frontier province, leaving behind an unsustainable demand for – and unaffordable price tags on – the basic commodity, which 65 percent of the population relies on as a staple.

According to Zahid Shinwari, president of the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Chamber of Commerce and Industries, the KP loses some three million tons of wheat to smugglers every year, causing price spikes of over 33 percent.

“The problem gets particularly severe when the local harvesting season ends in June, because that’s when the aggressive smuggling begins,” the official told IPS.

While 50-kg bags of wheat cost nine dollars in 2013, that same quantity now sells for 11 and 12 dollars. At first glance the difference might not seem like much, but in a region where the average monthly income is 60 dollars, some families say the price rise could mean the difference between nourishment and hunger.

As it is, thousands here are walking a fine line. According to a 2008 survey conducted by the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF), 65 percent of children and 40 percent of women living in the KP are malnourished. Take away their basic foodstuffs and the situation will only get worse, experts say.

Muhammad Haroon, a shopkeeper in KP’s capital Peshawar, says the problem is quickly reaching a crisis point, with some 500 to 600 trucks packed with wheat leaving the province every single day.

“We are not getting enough stock from the flourmills for local consumption,” the disgruntled grocer told IPS.

No sooner is the harvest gathered than smugglers make off with the bulk of it, while the rest is immediately purchased and hoarded by the wealthy, in a bid to avoid the inevitable price hikes that accompany the shortages.

In the end, says Haroon, it is the poor who suffer; a full 40 percent of the KP’s population lives below the poverty line, and they are the ones most affected.

On the other side of the border, the smugglers are seen as a godsend.

According to Abdul Qadir, an Afghan trader, his landlocked country has traditionally been dependent on Pakistan for its food requirements, including 80 percent of its wheat needs. Rice, oil, soap and pulses also make their way through checkpoints and onto the shelves of Afghan shops.

Qadir told IPS officials on both sides are equally complicit in the illicit operation because of the high bribes offered in exchange for safe passage through the busy Torkham border crossing close to KP, and the Wesh-Chaman border, which links the Pakistani city of Quetta with the Afghan city of Kandahar.

These bribes, which can reach 100 dollars per truck, push prices of the smuggled goods even higher – up to 45 dollars for a 50-kg sack of wheat – “but still Afghans buy them” according to the trader. He blamed a lack of water, overuse of pesticides and three decades of war for Afghanistan’s perennial food shortages.

Meanwhile, other provinces in Pakistan are starting to feel the heat of the illicit activity.

Chaudhry Ansar Javid, who heads the Sindh chapter of the Pakistan Flour Mills Association (PFMA), says his own province lost 800,000 tons of wheat to Afghanistan last year.

“The wheat flour produced in Sindh also reaches Central Asian states, as well as Iran, through the Chaman border crossing in Balochistan province,” he told IPS.

In the past 15 days alone, Javid said, the price of a 100-kg sack of wheat has soared from 20 to 25 dollars and could go on rising at a phenomenal rate unless the government takes immediate steps to curb the smuggling, or allows Pakistan to import enough wheat to account for the demand in neighbouring Afghanistan.

At present, Pakistan produces some 250 million tons of wheat per year, according to Anees Ashraf, president of the All Pakistan Flour Mills Association (APFMA).

“This includes 16 million tons in the Sindh province, 58 million in Punjab, 2.5 million in Balochistan and 10 million in KP,” he told IPS, adding that the latter has born the brunt of the smuggling operation.

Forced to seek alternative sources of this basic commodity, the KP government has come to rely heavily on some 400 trucks from the Punjab, which carry a daily supply of about 2,000 tons of wheat to the struggling region.

Now, even that lifeline is threatened by the fact that Afghan importers go directly to Punjabi wheat producers and buy up whatever stocks they can get, said Haji Musarrat Shah, vice president of the KP chapter of the APFMA.

Fearing its own shortages, the government of Punjab has imposed a ban on wheat stocks to the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, he told IPS.

Officials say this move is illegal and are now pressing the Punjab government to lift the ban and spare the people of KP from high prices and hunger.

“Under the constitution it is illegal to stop the supply of anything from one province to another,” KP Chief Minister Pervez Khattak told IPS, adding, “The federal government should intervene.”

Some say the situation is creating a powder keg, with the local population growing ever more hostile towards their neighbours. Already KP is home to some three million Afghan refugees who have been dependent on limited local resources for the past 30 years, according to Khattak.

If prices keep rising, it will put undue pressure on a region that is already fraught with poverty and militancy.

(END)

Tebu security staff at Saharan oil fields in southern Libya. Credit: Rebecca Murray/IPS

By Rebecca Murray
SOUTHERN LIBYA, May 17 2013 (IPS)

Kaltoum Saleh, 18, is elated to graduate from her overcrowded high school in the remote Saharan town of Ubari, near the Algerian border.

Saleh, a member of Ubari’s indigenous Tebu tribe, says that for decades under former Libyan dictator Muammar Gaddafi, the Libyan Tebu suffered from state-sanctioned discrimination, which stemmed in part from the failure of the semi-nomadic tribe to register under Libya’s 1954 citizenship law.

Gaddafi’s subsequent “Arabisation” campaign, intended to erase indigenous language and culture, also contributed to discrimination against the Tebu, many of whom were deprived of citizenship papers. As a result, they were barred from decent health care, education and skilled jobs. They often worked for low pay or as subsistence cross-border smugglers.

The tribe was swift to join the revolution against the regime in 2011, and with Gaddafi’s overthrow, the Tebu hoped to attain what they had long been struggling for: their full rights as citizens.

More than two years after the revolution, Saleh proudly says that her father, once a security guard, is now a hospital manager. She herself has considerable ambitions and is striving to become a human rights lawyer and fight for Tebu rights.

“The revolution was good for our self worth,” she says optimistically. “Now I feel like a Libyan citizen.”

But the revolution has not produced all the gains the Libyan Tebu have sought.

They lack sufficient representation in the Tripoli-based government, are in conflict with neighbouring Arab tribes, partly over resources in the current power vacuum, and are still branded by some Libyans as ‘foreigners’.

Guarding southern borders

In their quest for equal rights, Libya’s Tebu are now positioning themselves as valuable and natural guardians of the country’s vast southern borders.

Stretched across Libya’s south, the Tebu live in Ubari, Sebha and Murzuq in the west, and across the Sahara nearly 1,000 kilometres to the Kufra oasis in the east.

The desert terrain, with no roads across its width, is rich in underground water – which is diverted to ninety percent of Libya’s population along the coast – as well as oil and precious minerals.

It is also a haven for illegal cross-border trade, with weapons, government-subsidised gasoline and food smuggled out, and migrants and drugs transported in.

At the beginning of the revolt in 2011, Gaddafi promised both the indigenous Libyan Tebu and Tuareg citizenship papers and rights in exchange for their support.

While the Tuareg threw their lot in with his regime, only to find themselves on the losing side, the Tebu say they instead took Gaddafi’s weapons, and turned them and their desert expertise against him.

“Our forefathers came here hundreds of years ago,” explained Ibrahim Abu Baker, a Tebu archeologist from Ubari. “When we hold the sand, even in the night when the moon is shining, we know where we are.”

Although the Tebu were heralded for their revolutionary role guarding Libya’s southern borders and oil wells, with just two Tebu representatives out of 200 in the current General National Congress (GNC), their fight for equal rights is just gearing up."The Tebu want to close the chapter so they can get their citizenship, healthcare and education."
-- Mohammed Sidi

“During the revolution, people were perfect, excellent,” said Ali Ramadan, a Tebu military commander. “But when we returned to normal life, we found all the same people in their old positions, doing the same thing.”

In 2012, brutal clashes erupted between Tebu and Arab tribes in the desert towns of Sebha and Kufra. Mostly over power and resources, including smuggling routes, the fighting left hundreds dead and wounded, destroyed infrastructure and deepened animosity between neighbours.

Now an enormous wall and wide ditch encircles Kufra, built and controlled by the Arab Zwai tribe, who share the town with the minority Tebu. A tense ceasefire – not peace – is in place.

There is more optimism in Sebha. Last month, community elders successfully hammered out a reconciliation agreement between the western town’s Tebu and Arab Awlad Suleiman tribes.

“The Tebu want to close the chapter so they can get their citizenship, healthcare and education,” said Mohammed Sidi, one of the chief negotiators.

But Sidi still had reservations. “The wise people are together,” he said. “But the young people are separated now. The bad people – like those working in smuggling – are still together. They can’t negotiate because their experience is low. How do we bring those people together?”

Ubari, over 100 kilometres west of Sebha, is the last in a chain of fertile desert oases surrounded by sand dunes before the Algerian border. Dominated by the semi-nomadic Libyan Tuareg, who are also indigenous and have strong cross-border ties, this desolate corner thrived as a tourist destination until the 2011 revolution.

Now Ubari is known as a stop on the rumoured smuggling routes south to Mali and for its lucrative oil fields. It is also where Saif al-Islam Gaddafi, a son of Muammar Gaddafi, was apprehended while trying to flee Libya after the fall of Tripoli.

The Tebu, along with Tuareg and Arab militias, maintain an uneasy presence here, legitimised and paid for as part of the Ministry of Defence’s auxiliary Shield of Libya brigades and by private oil field security companies.

For now, they are the border guard presence. While the Tebu loosely patrol the southern border from Niger to Egypt, the Tuareg control Libya’s far southwest corner and the Algerian frontier running north to Ghadames.

Keeping an uneasy peace

The war in Mali, the terrorist attack against the nearby Amenas oil field in Algeria, the French Embassy bombing in Tripoli and rumours of Islamists trafficking weapons and fighters south have heightened community tensions.

“Libyans were very worried when the French intervention started in Mali,” a western diplomat, who spoke on condition of anonymity, told IPS. “Their main concern is that Islamists being flushed out by French jets could seek refuge in the kind of ungoverned space in southern Libya. They are worried about extremist groups moving through the region.”

Concerned about Libya’s porous frontier, the European Union and countries including the United States and United Kingdom are providing “advisory” roles in building up the government’s border guard.

The U.S. Africa Command (AFRICOM) has established a military base for drones on the south side of the Libyan border, in Niger.

“Broadly speaking, there are localised rivalries, ethnic rivalries and tribal rivalries in the south,” said the western diplomat. “A long-term solution for border security would most probably include both Tebu and Tuareg because they know the region and they live on the borders.”

Chaotic downtown Ubari is filled with migrants, most from Mali and Niger, who congregate on damaged sidewalks hoping for work, while Tuareg and Tebu tribesmen, wrapped in elaborate scarves to shield themselves from the dust, drive by in honking Toyota pickups.

Chieftains work hard to maintain the peace in mixed Libyan Tebu and Tuareg communities, like Ubari. They understand their shared battle is to overcome discrimination from Libya’s Arab population and to secure their rights.

Shamsideen Khoury, an 18-year-old Tebu student in Ubari, fought in the revolution and has faith in the future. He seeks a different path from his deceased father, who was a low level security guard. “I want to be an architect,” he says quietly. “I want to build a new Libya.”

Illegal smuggling into Afghanistan has pushed cattle prices so high that many ordinary Muslims will not be able to perform the ritual slaughter during the ‘feast of sacrifice’ this year. Credit: Ashfaq Yusufzai/IPS

By Ashfaq Yusufzai
PESHAWAR, Pakistan, Oct 25 2012 (IPS)

Muslims around the world will soon celebrate Eidul Azha, otherwise known as the ‘feast of the sacrifice’, the second most important festival day on the Islamic calendar.

But this year, scores of Muslims throughout Pakistan will not be able to perform the most sacred rite associated with the festival on Oct. 27 – the sacrifice of cattle – since illegal smuggling to neighbouring Afghanistan has pushed cattle prices to exorbitant levels.

Eidul Azha is celebrated to mark the belief that prophet Muhammad Ibrahim readily accepted God’s command to sacrifice his son Hazrat until God sent down a sheep for him to slaughter instead.

“As Muslim we ought to recall that huge sacrifice by slaughtering an animal,” Muhammad Mustafa, a local school teacher, told IPS.

But cattle prices have almost doubled since last year. As the time for the festival draws near, “demand for animals has risen on both sides of the border,” Mustafa added.

Last year, a buffalo that sold for about 300 dollars is today not even available for 500 dollars.

Since cattle breeders earn more from smuggling the animals to Afghanistan than they would if they sold the animals locally, the illegal trade is flourishing.

Pakistan currently has a surplus of 2.23 million cattle, which had hitherto been earmarked for export to Afghanistan, since the latter had zero local production of animals last year – a lingering impact of the 1979 Russian invasion and subsequent conflict that has decimated many industries.

Livestock director for the north western Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province, Muhammad Sultan, told IPS that close to 10,000 animals are illegally exported to Afghanistan every month, which has also forced up the prices of milk and poultry.k

On Jul. 23, the Peshawar High Court (PHC) suspended all export permits issued by the federal government and ordered the confiscation of cattle destined for Afghanistan, in a bid to protect local consumers.

Since 1979, “Afghanistan (has been) totally dependent on Pakistan for food and other basic needs but the court’s ban on transportation of cattle and poultry to Afghanistan worked to some extent,” Muhammad Khan, a Peshawar-based trader told IPS.

According to Khan, local businessmen are the main beneficiaries of this trade, which travels along the 2,400-kilometre-long porous border.

“The higher prices are hampering people’s ability to slaughter animals during the festival. The PHC order (created) some obstacles to the practice but the business continues because it is so profitable,” Khan said.

A change in tradition

Over 10,000 animals are smuggled out of Pakistan into neighbouring Afghanistan every month. Credit: Ashfaq Yusufzai/IPS

Locals here told IPS they roamed animal markets pointlessly last week but were forced to return home empty-handed because no one could afford the sky-high prices.

Zubair Shah, a civil servant, told IPS he has visited numerous markets over the last three days to purchase a sheep or a goat but the prices are such that he won’t be able to slaughter an animal this Eid.

“This is shocking for my family. Every year for the past decade we have slaughtered an animal (and donated) two-thirds of the meat to poor people. It seems that this year we will be getting meat or mutton from someone else,” he said.

He is not alone in his plight. Others, like the mechanic Gul Meer, have taken loans to buy cattle for 40 percent more than they paid last year.

“Even if it means I have to sell my wife’s gold ornaments, I will buy an animal for this is the only way to win Allah’s pleasure,” Mustafa vowed.

Meer believes the problem has been prolonged by the Pakistan government’s failure to impose harsh penalties on traders who continue to flout the smuggling ban.

The government has already seized 33,000 kilogrammes of illegal meat since the ban was imposed three months ago.

“We have also confiscated 800 animals, including oxen, buffalo, sheep and goats from smugglers near border areas to control the prices and (protect) local consumers so they can acquire an animal to sacrifice on Eidul Azha,” Sultan told IPS.

Government efforts to clamp down on the practice have yielded some results. Prices of poultry have come down, according to Sultan.

“Before the ban, one kilogramme of chicken cost six dollars, but the price has now come down to four dollars after the court’s directives,” he said.

Still, the province continues to face deficits in milk and poultry products.

Ayub Sattar, a mason on University Road, says that prices have always been high during the festival time, but this year has been exceptionally hard.

“Last year we (could get) a sheep for 150 dollars. A sheep of the same size now sells for 250 dollars, far out of my price range,” he told IPS.

Some people have decided to pool their resources and purchase oxen, camels and buffaloes communally, with plans to share the meat between their families.

“This year (we bought) cattle for 520 dollars in the market when last year we paid 380 dollars for the same animal,” Liaqat Ali, who is sharing an animal with five others this year, told IPS.

Dr. Tariq Ali, a veterinarian in Peshawar, told IPS that Pakistanis usually slaughter between five and six million animals at this time of year.

“Farmers in neighbouring Afghanistan will remain dependent on Pakistan’s animals and poultry in the future too. Therefore, it’s up to the government (here) to stop this illegal trade and allow the transportation only of surplus animals via legal routes,” he stressed.

(END)

Small scale vendor or “pimpinero” sells Venezuelan gasoline in Colombia. Credit: Lester Ramos/IPS

By Humberto Márquez
SAN CRISTÓBAL, Venezuela , Sep 26 2012 (IPS)

It’s a straightforward calculation: a litre of gasoline costs 62 times more in Colombia than in Venezuela, a difference that fuels smuggling and crime along the border.

“What I earn repairing tires is not enough, I have four kids to support,” Trino L. tells IPS as he patches a tire on the roadside in the state of Táchira in southwestern Venezuela, bordering the Colombian province of Norte de Santander.

“Repairing tires I can earn 3,000 bolívars a month (700 dollars at the official rate), while smuggling gasoline I can get two, three or four times as much, depending on what I have to pay (in bribes) along the way,” said Trino.

Táchira and Norte de Santander are crossed by the eastern branch of the Andes mountain chain which gives rise to a wealth of river valleys.

There are few road passes; the main one connects the Venezuelan city of San Antonio with Cúcuta, the capital of the Colombian province.

The Simón Bolívar international bridge can be crossed by foot, car or bicycle – no documents are required and there are few inspections. On the Colombian side, small-scale vendors of gasoline, known as “pimpineros,” peddle the fuel along the highway, without safety precautions, from small plastic containers.

“I get my gasoline from a wholesaler who brings it from Venezuela. I have no idea how, that’s not my business; there may be something illegal on the Venezuelan side but not here – there are thousands of us who make our living this way,” Luis Duque, a young pimpinero who stores thousands of litres of fuel behind a small grocery store, told IPS.

“The main thing is the price differential. The government decided to regulate retail sales of gasoline throughout Táchira, but who is regulating the wholesalers? This is the responsibility of PDVSA (the Venezuelan state oil company) and the armed forces who guard the border,” state Governor César Pérez, a Christian Democrat opponent of the national government of President Hugo Chávez, said at a press conference.

Last year the government introduced an automated system for gasoline purchases in Táchira. Authorised stations sell gasoline to vehicles carrying a bar code on their windshield, linked to a database indicating the amount assigned to each one.

But the amounts assigned by the authorities to private vehicles, taxis, passenger and freight transport are giving rise to complaints that the measure is arbitrary and discriminatory, as it only applies to Táchira.

Sonia Medina, the Táchira state government’s head of economic development, said “the regulation and rationing of gasoline has not improved our people’s quality of life, and wholesale smuggling continues. It will not cease as long as the price difference continues to be 62 to one.”

A gallon (3.8 litres) of gasoline costs the equivalent of 4.92 dollars in Colombia, compared to just eight cents in Venezuela, because of the heavy subsidies that make gasoline in this country among the cheapest in the world.

In Colombia, Cristian Buitrago, acting governor of Norte de Santiago, concurred that “the decisive factor is that Venezuelan gasoline is so much cheaper. What one side may view as contraband could also be seen as opportunity cost.”

José Miguel González, the executive head of the Cúcuta Chamber of Commerce, said “our population has a low level of education but a high level of competitiveness. The price differential allows 1,000 percent profits to be made from smuggling gasoline.”

“During Spanish colonial times, local smugglers were known as ‘cascareros’, and there has been a culture of smuggling ever since,” said Javier Sánchez, head of the governing United Socialist Party of Venezuela in Táchira. “Nowadays it is not only gasoline, but also food and medicines, subsidised in our country, that are trafficked.”

The price difference “allows those who engage in contraband to bribe whoever they need to bribe. People on the Colombian side solve a social problem, namely unemployment. We need national policies, including military vigilance, to adequately deal with Táchira as a border state,” Sánchez said.

Jesús Berro, head of the Táchira state police force, said “this is an area characterised by a great many illicit activities, including money laundering, which sustain a variety of criminal groups. There has been an increase in the number of murders by hired killers.”
The crime wave worries Luis Hernández, head of the Táchira Association of Cattle Ranchers. “Our main problem is insecurity. There are armed groups in the region that are outside the law: kidnappers, drug traffickers, and Colombian and Venezuelan guerrillas and paramilitaries,” he said.

“We have to deal with two types of crime: common crime, arising from the social breakdown in Venezuela, and border crime, arising from being adjacent to all the conflicts suffered by Colombia, and from this asymmetric economy that gives rise to criminal gangs,” said Pérez.

But in spite of the mounting problems, Táchira “has great potential as a centre for border trade, as an agricultural, livestock, agribusiness and mining (coal and phosphates) region, and as a tourist centre,” the governor added.

Across the border, in Norte de Santander, “we consider it a privilege to be on the border,” governor Buitrago said. “It brings comparative advantages even though it creates difficulties, and it is our opportunity. In the past we focused on trade and neglected industry; now we must overcome that neglect.”

“Norte de Santander has potential for agriculture and mining (oil, gas and coal), and 21 municipalities are reserved for nature tourism,” said González of the chamber of commerce. “But an area with 1.3 million people centred on Cúcuta is basically a service region tied to Venezuela’s economic cycles.”

San Cristóbal, the capital of Táchira, “has one million people in its metropolitan area and we envisage it as a twin city for Cúcuta and a centre for the supply of goods and services on the border, including education and health,” said Daniel Ceballos who is running for mayor as the candidate of the Coalition for Democratic Unity, an opposition alliance.

“When all is said and done, over half the people of Táchira have ties to Norte de Santander, and a large part of the people of that Colombian region are connected with people here,” said the Catholic bishop of Táchira, Mario Moronta, speaking for those in favour of opportunities to overcome the problems. “They may think differently in Bogotá and in Caracas, but this is how things are here and will continue to be.”

During the day, when Uzbek border guards patrol its streets, Mingdon is a sleepy Ferghana Valley town. But after night falls, Mingdon, a hamlet of 10,000 on Uzbekistan’s frontier with Kyrgyzstan, turns into a smugglers’ paradise.

From Kyrgyzstan come bundles of Chinese clothing, crates of electric Chinese appliances and an endless parade of Chinese comestibles. From Uzbekistan, smugglers ship fresh fruits and vegetables into Kyrgyzstan by the truckload.

The smugglers are dodging the most restrictive trade regime in Central Asia. Uzbekistan’s protectionist tariffs are designed to shield domestic manufacturers (which are state-affiliated) from competition. Most consumer goods, including food, clothing, appliances, and motor vehicles, are taxed at rates ranging from 40 percent to 100 percent.

To stop smuggling, in recent years Tashkent has built miles of barbed-wire fences and has even dug trenches in many places. Armed guards often shoot smugglers. Last month, border guards from Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan shot at each other, leaving one dead on each side.

If one believes Uzbek-state controlled media, anti-smuggling efforts have been largely successful. According to an early-July state television broadcast, the Uzbek customs service responded to 29,000 violations of the Uzbek customs law, initiated close to 900 criminal cases against smugglers, and confiscated illicit goods worth approximately 110 billion sums (about $60 million) in 2011. “Our borders are tightly controlled, and all violators are punished accordingly,” said the broadcast.

Yet, evidence from small towns such as Mingdon shows that efforts to secure the border are failing. Mingdon is situated on a section of the border that is not fully delimited by Tashkent and Bishkek. Smugglers rely on hidden paths around town (some are located in private yards) to move goods.

“It is practically impossible for authorities to control illicit trade. The border is like a sieve,” said a Mingdon state-paid employee who himself admits to smuggling clothing and small appliances at night.

There are no reliable figures on the volume of smuggled goods. In June, Muradyl Mademinov, a Kyrgyz MP, told local media outlets that he estimates $90 million worth of fruits and vegetables are smuggled from Uzbekistan into Kyrgyzstan annually. According to a 2011 study by Bishkek-based Central Asian Free Market Institute, goods that are illegally smuggled into Uzbekistan are primarily made in China, and consist of clothing and shoes (68 percent), kitchenware (19 percent) and electronic appliances (13 percent). Locals say the proportion of foodstuffs is growing each year.

According to Zarif, a small-business owner from Mingdon, huge profits are driving the trade. “On average, a smuggler can make $300 dollars a day, which is higher than the monthly salary of some state employees,” he said, adding that half of Mingdon’s residents moonlight as smugglers.

Large mafia-style syndicates employing hundreds of people are involved in smuggling, said a farmer from Marhamat, a town of 60,000 just across the border from Kyrgyzstan’s Aravan. Like most of the sources for this story, the farmer, who sells his produce to smugglers, was too afraid of reprisals to give his name.

“[Uzbek] customs officials and border guards have gotten very rich because of bribes [given by smugglers]. Border guards often look the other way while smugglers do their business. For the right price, they will also help smugglers transport goods,” said the farmer. Uzbekistan ranked 177 out of 183 countries surveyed in Transparency International’s most recent Corruption Perceptions Index.

According to local residents, for years towns such as Mingdon and Marhamat suffered from economic decline. Now, thanks to illicit trade, the local economies are thriving.

“Real estate prices are booming. Prices for houses located immediately at the border (which are often used as storehouses) are the highest,” said a high school teacher in Mingdon. “We no longer have to send our children to work in Russia [as seasonal labor migrants].”

Officials in Tashkent are aware of local governments’ lax approach to smuggling, said a Tashkent-based journalist who covers agricultural issues for a state-run newspaper.

“The SNB [security services, formerly the KGB] conducts systematic raids in border regions, arresting smugglers and officials who are involved in illicit trade, but they [smugglers and accused officials] tend to bribe their way out,” said the journalist. “It is no surprise to anyone – these days even the SNB is not clean anymore.”

Economists in Tashkent privately say the government should reconsider its draconian approach, liberalize trade and delegate more authority to local officials. But officials seem more interested in centralization and tightening control. “The SNB and border guards have orders to shoot at anyone who is involved in smuggling,” said the government employee-cum-smuggler from Mingdon. “But the risks do little to deter smugglers.”

*This story originally appeared on EurasiaNet.org.