Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Crouching Tiger, Troubled Lives

Xinjiang shot to fame after Hollywood movie Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon was filmed at the China's far western province. Now the Beijing's crack down of political dissent by Uighur activists has dragged the region into a human right debate. Mood-hardened New Delhi behaves like a unruly host to Uighur refugees in India. Reports Shafi Rahman


Story

Switching off lights to save money, the night comes early to Dawood's home in Zakir Nagar. The life sometimes sadly imitates living-room conditions at the colony in capital's Okhla industrial area. The sun has also set early on the life of this 45-year- old refugee from China's Xinjianag province where a movement to preserve Uighur culture and traditions is being put own brutally by Beijing.
The peaceful demonstrations expressing opposition to government policies – such as the large scale settling of Han Chinese in the region, the lack of development of Uighur areas and the restrictions on religious and cultural expression – have been met by violent crackdown. Activists are routinely harassed by chinese, forcing many to leave the country.
Dawood went into bad books of Chinese military after he resisted frisking of some Uighur women at an army picket. "I was taken to military jail where I was routinely tortured. For next few months, I was in and out of prison," says Dawood. Fearing further torture he escaped to India through Nepal.
Dawood is one of the few Chinese refugees from the province now living in India. Since September 11, China piggybacked on the United States' war on terror, designating the Uighur movement as "terrorism" and using it as an excuse for further repression. New Delhi, relishing new- found "friendship" with China, refuses to give the refugees exit visa to developed democracies and offer privileges of refugees.
A case in point is that of Aimati Alimu, a member of the Uighur Democratic party (UDP) in Aksu in China's Xinjiang province. He ran a video store, circulating, among other things, copies of videos containing speeches of UDP leaders. For this, he was arrested by the police seven times and tortured, including with electric shocks. When they came for him the eighth time, Alimu fled, first to Hong Kong, then to Dubai and eventually to India with a three month visit visa on 14 February last year.
On his arrival, he applied for refugee status at the office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) in New Delhi. The UNHCR, in its wisdom, sat on the application for the better part of three months. It chose to overlook the precarious nature of Alimu's situation. It did not take into account the fact that India's growing friendship with China had made the question of Uighur refugees a matter of "national interest" for both countries, and that a few other previously arrived Uighur refugees were stuck in India despite having received permission to resettle in Sweden simply because New Delhi won't give them an exit visa. Alimu tried to check with UNHCR several times regarding the status of his application, but received no answer.
With the three-month visa period nearing its end, and with no papers from UNHCR to prove his refugee status, Alimu understandably panicked. On 9 May last year, he made his way to the Ministry of Home Affairs office at Jaisalmer House, intending to have his visa extended. His visa was due to expire on 11 May. A friend last saw him at Jaislamer House at 2 pm that day. He did not emerge, and the friend went home after midnight and waited for him there.
No news of Alimu was received until the late afternoon of 10 May, when he was allowed to call his friend and inform him about his whereabouts. From Jaisalmer House, Alimu had apparently been taken to the Foreigners Regional Registration Office ( FRRO), from where he was taken to the Lampur Detention Centre.
Alimu speaks and understands no language apart from Uighur, making it impossible to know what was asked of him at these places. Nor was he allowed to call a friend who speaks a bit of Hindi and who could have helped translate. This raises fundamental questions about how FRRO may have determined that Alimu had to be detained.
The National Human Rights Commission of India (NHRC), which was approached in this case, is yet to react. A complaint was sent to the NHRC on 10 May last year, informing it about Alimu's disappearance (as was the case then) and requesting it to take immediate action to ensure that Alimu was not deported. This was followed by an updated complaint on 12 May informing the NHRC that Alimu was known to have been taken to Lampur Detention Centre, followed by yet another letter to the NHRC Chairperson on 14 May, describing the entire sequence of events and asking him to treat the complaint as a matter of urgency.
Under immense pressure from Human Rights organization Alimu was given an exit visa early this year and he has now found asylum in Sweden. As of now, when Alimu tries to stand up on his legs in Sweden, there has been no official response from the NHRC.
Uighur refugees' case highlights the vast gaps in India's ad hoc system of dealing with refugees. It has not signed the UN Convention Relating to Refugees of 1951 or its Optional Protocol. "Indian laws do not recognise the category of "refugee" or the fact that there are persons who are compelled to leave their homes and countries due to threats to their lives and liberty. India deals with refugees under a legislation that is meant to apply to foreigners who voluntarily leave their homes in normal circumstances," says Ravi Nair, the executive director of Asia Pacific Human Rights Network.
At the moment, it is the Registration of Foreigners Act, 1939, and the Foreigners Act, 1946, that do not seek to, but end up governing, the treatment of asylum seekers/refugees.
"Even to the non-legal eye, the contents of the Foreigners Act, 1946, make for alarming reading. It is a wide-ranging, open-ended piece of legislation, setting down no rules on its own, but giving the Central Government the power to frame orders and provisions governing the treatment of foreigners, a system much vulnerable to arbitrary use," says Ravi Nair.
Legal experts have pointed out that India's fundamental rights regime does guarantee certain rights for people like Dawood and Alimu. Articles 21 (right to life), article 14 (right to equality), article 22 (rights of an arrestee or detenu) apply to all persons, and by implication to refugees. But in practice, as in Alimu's case, it is different story. There is no procedure for considering cases on humanitarian grounds. There is also no mechanism that would, for example, supervise the work of the FRRO and verify the correctness of its determination.
Alimu's detention violated India's constitutional and legal framework and obligations under international Conventions and Declarations. The Indian Supreme Court has also held that the "(preventive) detention of a foreign national who is not a resident of the country involves an element of international law and human rights and the appropriate authorities ought not to be seen to have been oblivious of its international obligations in this regard."
Refugees that are certified as such by UNHCR have a modicum of security, although such status does not prevent the Government from expelling them. Those without UNHCR status are at greater risk. It is therefore inconceivable that UNHCR took more than three months to grant refugee status to Alimu even though it was well aware of the risk that Uighur refugees face.
"The UNHCR is clearly in need of some serious soul-searching, and its record shows that there has not been enough of it. Nevertheless, domestic mechanisms are key, and Alimu's case should serve as an opportunity to take a long, hard look at India's treatment of refugees. Arbitrary and ad hoc actions by unsupervised national executive agencies put lives like Alimu's at risk. This is unacceptable and unworthy of a democracy," says Ravi Nair.
The fear that Dawood may be deported to China is very real. In February 2001, the Government of India sought to forcibly repatriate two Iranian refugees. It was only immediate action by local and international non-governmental organisations that is stalling his deportation. In Dawood's case, the sensitivities are as acute, if not more. Since January 1997, Amnesty International has recorded 210 death sentences and 190 executions in China, mostly of Uighurs convicted of subversive or terrorist activities after unfair and often summary trials.

As legal debate goes on, five years of exile is taking toll on Dawood's health. "When last time I telephoned my family, I failed to recollect my third daughter's name. Look, I have now written down all my children's name in this scrap book. See, it will hurt them if I forget their names," says Dawood. An allowance of Rs 1,500 and generous neighbours are helping Dwawood to survive.
Unlike his biblical namesake, Dawood is fighting a loosing battle against Goliath called China. And democratic India, it seems, has chosen to deal with the political refugee in same fashion as it deals with his underworld namesake.