Our friend Carmen brought an article to our attention, a report by Human Rights Watch, Nigeria: Arbitrary Killings by Security Forces in Jos. The point of the article is in the title, the claim that the military and police went beyond necessary force in their reaction to the rioters in Jos.

Nigerian police and army forces were implicated in more than 90 arbitrary killings in responding to inter-communal violence between Christian and Muslim mobs in Jos, Nigeria, on November 28 and 29, 2008, Human Rights Watch said today. Human Rights Watch called on the Nigerian government to investigate and prosecute those responsible for the killings, mostly of young Muslim men from the Hausa-Fulani ethnic group.

      Human Rights Watch researchers documented seven separate incidents of arbitrary killing by the police during which at least 46 men and boys, all but two of them Muslims, were killed. The vast majority of police killings were perpetrated by a specially trained anti-riot unit called the Police Mobile Force, known locally as the MOPOLs. Human Rights Watch also documented six incidents involving the arbitrary killing of 47 men by the military. According to witnesses, all of the victims were Muslim men, nearly all were young, and most were unarmed at the time. Most of the killings came on the same day after the Plateau State governor issued a "shoot-on-sight" order to security personnel on November 29.

      I circulated the link to the article on our missions-in-Jos mailing list and and there have been several responses, which I'll append as comments below as I receive permission. One response theme is that this shows once again the one-sided nature of the international reporting of the riots. I think that idea comes from the fact that the report says that nearly all of those killed were Muslim. On the other hand, a different explanation of the disproportionate number of Muslims killed could be that they were the ones most engaged in the fighting at the time, and did not retreat when the security forces appeared.       It seems frustratingly impossible to find out what actually happened during the riots, or how they began. Let me try to state some factors that seem to be generally accepted:       1) There is a problem with ethnic-geographic discrimination in Nigeria. Although in theory everyone is a Nigerian and receives equal treatment regardless of tribe or state of origin, the practice is that one's "indigeneity" matters very much. It is frequently mentioned that the Hausa-Fulani in Jos North are considered "settlers" rather than "indigenes" and are discriminated against when it comes to civil service and political appointments, university admission, and so on. However, the situation is not unique to Jos. In neighboring Bauchi state, for example, a Christian spokesman expressed "displeasure over Christians' marginalization concerning government activities", and everyone seems to agree that non-indigenes are at a disadvantage wherever they are. The Human Rights Watch report "They Do Not Own This Place" explains the nationwide scope of the problem.       2) There is an ongoing background of tension, fear, and conflict between Muslims and Christians in Nigeria (hmm, is that true anywhere else?). Of course this does not mean that there are no moderate voices, no cooperation, no friendships between the two groups. However, you have only to google "nigeria religious violence" to see that the problem is persistent and widespread, not simply sporadic. The conflicts may be triggered by political, tribal, or even personal issues, but religion often becomes rather quickly the major divide. For more on this, see "Churches destroyed in wave of religious violence in Nigeria" (Christianity Today), "Nigeria Christian/Muslim Conflict" (GlobalSecurity.org) and "Religious Violence Fueled by Impunity" (Human Rights Watch).       Some argue that the recent violence was political or at least politically motivated. While it may be true that the elections were a political trigger, it's hard to deny that the fighting quickly became a Muslim-Christian affair. Even the reports that try to de-emphasize religion are not very convincing: have you seen any headlines such as "ANPP mobs attack and burn homes of PDP members over rigged elections," or reports of how many of the dead belonged to each political party?       3) There is widespread poverty and lack of basic services such as water, health care, and education. That much is obvious. Is poverty a root cause for the violence? It seems plausible that it might at least be a predisposing factor, but even that is debatable. Regardless of the relation to violence, the living conditions of many people in Nigeria are a tragedy in their own right.       

Unanswered questions

      By "unanswered," I include questions with "clear" but very different answers for different people, so if I include a question here that seems to have an obvious answer, it's probably because I don't know the evidence and/or people don't agree.       *Was the conflict planned or spontaneous? If planned, who planned it?       *Were there combatants from other countries or other parts of Nigeria? (See "50 Foreign Nationals Arrested Over Jos Riot.")       *Would a political solution work? If the indigene issue were solved and there were fair elections, would the tribal/religious conflict fade away?       

Does it matter?

      I can't see much reason for optimism over the big picture. I can't think of any such conflicts historically or in the world now that have been resolved equitably and peacefully (so please encourage me by giving me examples!).       Still, it's possible or even likely that wise and community-minded leaders from all sectors could at least help avoid the worst catastrophes. In fact, the present riots may in part represent such a success in that they did not spread throughout or beyond Plateau State.       It also matters to me whether or to what extent the ongoing conflict is religiously based. To the extent that it's political or tribal, my friends and family are just innocent bystanders, as we have been so far. The more religion becomes the defining factor, the more likely it is that we could become targets.       Most importantly, the conflict matters to me because I am committed to sharing the good news of God's love for all people, powerfully shown to us in the life and ministry of Jesus (Nabi Isa). That good news is not proclaimed at gunpoint or by the sword, but offered as a gift freely received or rejected by anyone, whatever his or her clan, language, or religious group. Every incident of religious violence makes it harder for all of us to receive and live by that good news: harder for Muslims, because they will naturally tend to feel threatened by anything associated with "Christians;" harder for Christians, because it will be harder for them to follow Jesus' teachings of love and forgiveness toward their neighbors and enemies.

This Christmas Eve, even as we think of peace on earth, we are getting a view on a small scale of the way fear and hate are perpetuated between peoples. Luke woke up in the early morning hours and called me to come. When I sat down on his bed and asked what the problem was, he said he'd had another bad dream. "What was it this time?" I asked.       "Remember how M. was talking yesterday about the Muslims going into Christian's houses and killing them? I dreamed that a bunch of people came at me and killed me with rocks." I didn't have a bad dream myself, but I, too, slept fitfully, disturbed by the sound of many sirens and wondering what was going on.       Violence breeds fear and distrust, and even though the children don't march in the streets shouting slogans and brandishing pretend guns, they catch the fear, and the distrust of the Other gradually becomes a part of their identity.       Luke went shopping with Barb today, too, since school is out. He wanted to go and meet all his "friends," the shopkeepers and merchants who know him and greet him. They were happy to see him, and one of the Hausa vegetable sellers even phoned another one, who had traveled to another city, so that Luke could greet him too. I didn't think of it until now, but we should take this opportunity to point out to Luke that those men are Muslims, but are kind and friendly to him. Maybe we can help in a small way to stop the deadly cycle.

Wednesday morning I was at work in the office and Barb was shopping on the main street when I heard someone saying that crowds of people were running away from the main street area (just 1/2 mile away). Gunshots were heard. Some people ran to the compound next to the office, seeking shelter. Why were they fleeing? No one was sure.       Given the tensions after the recent riots that killed hundreds of people, this qualified as an "event" to be investigated and reported up the chain. Was there a new outbreak of violence in the center of town? A bank robbery?       Chris C. walked over to the compound to investigate while I phoned our driver, who was taking Barb on her shopping errands. I could hardly hear the driver because of noise and a bad connection, but I heard him say that nothing was really wrong though people were excited.       Later, Barb told me that people had suddenly been running down the street, and that soldiers had quickly arrived and tried to restore order. One of them may have shot into the air. The owner of the grocery store where Barb was quickly shut the doors and brought down the security door.       Accounts varied at first, but by the end of the day they converged on the story that bees had been responsible. In one version, just one bee stung someone and triggered the frenzy. In another, some people tried to smoke out a hive of bees not realizing they had another exit, so the swarm came after them.       Bees here can be dangerous, so it's not surprising people started running. But the way the events played out shows how high the tensions still are here. People are going about their business, but in the back of everyone's mind is the thought that things could turn violent again. I know I feel that way, not even having witnessed any of the violence this time, so how much harder it must be for those who saw their houses burned or their friends and families attacked and maybe killed.       See My neighbor, my killer, my neighbor, my savior, by our friend Carmen, for the best first-hand description of the recent crisis.

It has been ten days since the violence erupted in Jos. The city is quiet but tense and rumors still abound. A relief agency has registered 28,000 "internally-displaced persons," people who have lost their homes or been forced to move because of the violence. Barb, Luke and I have spend the past several days at the retreat center in Miango, since SIM requested all the missionaries at Evangel to leave. Today and tomorrow are a major religious holiday commemorating Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son Ishmael, and large rallies are expected, including one on the polo field next to Evangel.       The first few days were especially tension-producing for us. Part of the stress of these situations is trying to deal with conflicting information, rumors, and recommendations. Where is the fighting, which way is it moving, are police forces getting control, what roads are safe to use?       It's hard to decide how cautious to be. It's not good either to be rushing from your home at every sign of unrest, nor to be over-confident to the point that you don't leave until it's too late to move on the streets. I felt guilty about leaving Evangel for a safer site; the situation didn't seem so bad to me a few hours after it began, but we got instructions to leave immediately, so we all did. That left the Nigerian medical staff to cover the hospital, and they were at more risk than we were.       Being on the security committee, I was constantly in touch with others, monitoring the situation and making decisions with the other members. One night was especially hard, as things had been quiet for a day or two, but there were rumors of serious trouble ahead. Some of us were connected by Internet, others by radio, and I was pretty tense after hours of trying to assess how serious the threat was, who might be affected, and what we ought to do about it.       Someone compared this crisis to what it was like after a big earthquake, and I think that's a good example that you in California will understand. It's hard to find out what's happening, you don't know whether there might be major aftershocks that will affect you, and a truck passing or any little vibration can make you jump. For me, it's sounds like gunshots or sirens that make my heart jump. These days in Miango have helped all of us relax.

It's been quiet all day, but now just as I start writing this, more gunshots ring out in the night not too far away. We're under a curfew and the police and military have orders to shoot violators on sight.       The riots started early Friday morning, and as in 2001 we woke to the sounds of shooting and, when we looked outside, saw billowing smoke in several places. Unlike September 2001, it seemed pretty calm around the hospital, with no refugees fleeing over the walls onto our compound or gangs of youths pursuing them.       By 10 am or so, though, we were ordered to leave the hospital compound, which was considered too close to the trouble, and to move to another compound about 2 miles away. We quickly gathered a few things and joined the convoy, five cars moving up the streets nearly deserted except for some youths at roadblocks and defending their neighborhoods.       Throughout Friday and Saturday, things remained unstable. In many parts of town, whichever group was the majority was attacking the minority: beating, killing, burning homes, shops, and places of worship. Those attacked, men, women, and children, fled wherever they could for safety, sometimes onto the compounds of our missions and friends, or any place that seemed a bit safe.       Being a member of the crisis management team, I spent much of Friday and Saturday helping to assess the situation and determine our response. My specific task was setting up Internet-based communications (a chat room, Skype chats, Skype-to-phone text messages, and a situation summary wiki page). Along with radio communication (phones were not working), these proved very helpful.       By Saturday evening, it seemed that the police and military had things pretty much under control in the areas near the hospital, so we moved back. Since then it has been pretty quiet. Barring any change tonight, we'll probably go back to our regular schedules tomorrow, though Hillcrest school is closed at least until Wednesday. I'll probably spend a good chunk of the week in debriefings and assessments of what happened and what we can do better next time.       Maybe I'll talk a little in the next blog entry about some of the emotional stresses and turmoil of these situations and their aftermath. It's important to emphasize that our family and co-workers were never under any physical threat or even discomfort -- we had a fine time Friday and Saturday with our friends on the other compound! Electricity, water, food, beds, and even Internet all day long. Our situation couldn't even begin to compare with the plight of hundreds or thousands of people in Jos who were injured, killed, lost loved ones, or made homeless.

I came across mention of Mohammed Bello Abubakar before. This is a Muslim Nigerian fellow with 86 wives. Naturally the question arises as to why anyone would want to have that many wives, but who am I to judge.       Word has come down the he must choose only four. Yes, that's right, he has to really back it up and have just four ladies. If he doesn't comply with this, he's going to be put to death.       I see two outcomes for this. Seeing as how he's 84, he could very just go with the death option. That would probably be my choice. The other choice would be to sell this to an broadcasting company to make some kind of American Idol show where we go through an elimination system. I see the title now, Wife Hunt: Nigeria. You know it would spawn massive ratings as well as subsequent seasons. I can even see the reunion show now:       "Wife 37, how did it make you feel to be eliminated in just the first round?"       "Well, Carson, I was sad at first, but because I didn't have any children, I eventually found my way in to a home where there were only eight wives. It was really a step up for me."       "So, everyone was a winner?"       "Yes, yes, Carson, I'd have to say that everyone was a winner."       "Dear god I love doing my part to save Africa."