THAI DRUGS WAR 'SETTLING OLD SCORES'

Thailand's controversial drugs crackdown has hit nowhere harder than
the northern province of Chiang Mai, where 72 people have died in
drug-related killings in the last 30 days.

The province may seem an obvious target, given its proximity to the
infamous "Golden Triangle" and the Burmese border, the main source of
drugs smuggled into the country.

But as the death toll rises, there are fears that some of the killings
have more to do with local disputes than drugs.

One village which knows about such fears is Baan Mae Sa Mai, a
settlement of the Hmong tribe.

The only access is via a twisting muddy track off the main road,
winding through lychee plantations from which the villagers earn their
living.

For Damrong Tanomwaorakun and his wife Somsi, the lychee plantations
were a source of livelihood and a final resting place.

Last Wednesday they were found shot dead in their car in a plantation
they had rented from another village some distance away.

The floor of the car was littered with ya-ba, or "mad medicine",
amphetamine pills.

For Damrong's brother Teng, there is no doubt that the killings were
unjust.

"I wanted an investigation into my brother's killing, but the police
just said it was a drugs killing. With things as they are at the
moment I just don't dare ask for justice, and who would I ask?" he
said.

He claims the couple had no involvement with drugs, and were just
unlucky to get on a government blacklist of suspected drug dealers.

How they did he does not know, but the frustration brings him close to
tears.

Settling scores

"I asked the authorities how they came up on the blacklist, but they
just told me they were ordered to compile it. Is it people who just
mail in names?" he asked.

There have been accusations that the blacklist is being used by local
leaders, including the police, to settle old scores.

In some villages, victims' families claim they have been targeted
because of their affluence, or because of old feuds.

Hill tribes like the Hmong feel particularly vulnerable due to their
isolation from mainstream society. Teng discussed his brother's murder
with tribal elders. One of them, who said he was too scared to give
his name, had done some investigation into the killing.

"I asked the villagers in the area they were killed in whether this
was the work of plainclothes police," the elder said.

"They told me a car had been following Damrong but had got lost. There
were two short-haired men and one with long hair. They didn't have
uniforms but looked as if they were officials."

Others pointed to the mode of execution.

"If it was the mafia why wouldn't they just kill them then and there?
Damrong was shot through the chest, but there was no bullet hole in
the seat," an elder said.

"They killed them elsewhere and then threw ya-ba in the car. No drug
dealer would be stupid enough to put ya-ba in the car exposed like
that," he said.

Everyone is nervous. Even the head of a local non-governmental
organisation which provides neutral ground for tribes-people to
discuss contentious issues like this knows that the police could close
her centre at any time. The Hmong know that they are not the only
victims, but in the rush for the police to reduce the numbers on their
blacklist they are obvious targets.

The leader of the discussion, Pracha from Nan Province, said he was
happy for the police to crack down on drugs as long as his people were
treated fairly.

"I admit that there are some bad Hmong. If they only kill bad Hmong
it's OK, it's karma. But I want people to look at us as human beings
too," he said.

For the moment the Hmong villagers are too scared to go down to Chiang
Mai to sell their lychee. Teng Tanomwaorakun fears the situation will
only get worse.

"If these killings persist, we'll go back to the dark ages. Good people
can't live in the village, so they will have to move back to the jungle,"
he said.