Traumatized young people in Aceh province recount horrors of wa

BANDA ACEH, Indonesia -- Accused of being a spy for Acehnese rebels, 16-year-old Milo Andrian allegedly suffered beatings for days at the hands of Indonesian security officers.

Now he sits motionless in a mental hospital staring vacantly. He no longer recognizes his mother.

In Aceh, Indonesia's westernmost province where the government has escalated its campaign against separatist rebels, young people are falling victim to violence by both sides.

A 15-year-old boy recounts seeing three neighbors dragged from a home with plastic ropes around their necks and then shot point blank by soldiers. "I could see their brains splattered on the banana trees," he says.

Masked men, most likely rebels, assassinated an orphanage director in full view of its 60 wards. A bullet grazed the rib cage of one of the youths, a teenager who recalls: "I looked down and saw blood seeping through my blouse. My body felt hot all over and I blacked out."

Some 12,000 people -- most of them civilians -- have died in the war, which broke out in 1976 after Indonesia's government refused to give Aceh promised autonomy. But Acehnese separatism has been an undercurrent in the province since the Dutch invaded the then-Islamic sultanate in 1870.

There have been repeated efforts to settle the conflict. The most recent, a truce mediated last year by the Geneva-based Henry Dunant Center, collapsed in May amid mistrust on both sides.

The national government in Jakarta accused rebels of using the lull in fighting to campaign for independence and to rearm. Rebels complained the government did not honor promises to withdraw troops from offensive positions.

Authorities have sharply curtailed news coverage and foreign aid work in Aceh since declaring martial law in the province after the failed peace talks. However, an Associated Press reporter was able to visit Aceh and interview villagers caught in the crossfire of Asia's longest running war -- and discovered numerous children traumatized by the conflict.

Since the latest offensive began, Aceh's main cities have regained a semblance of normality, with shootings, bombings and kidnappings on the decline. But human rights activists fear the military and police are committing widespread abuses in their drive to root out rebels in the countryside.

By the government's count, more than 1,000 suspected rebels have been killed in addition to 300 civilians since May. Rights workers suspect the number of civilian victims is much higher.

No figures are available on the number of children killed and injured or arrested.

Authorities deny allegations they have tortured minors and insist they arrest rebels only when there is sufficient evidence.

Some rebels of the Free Aceh Movement admit they recruit children as young as 13 to smuggle messages, warn fighters when government troops are near or carry food to their jungle hideouts.

The family of Andrian, who was sentenced to eight months in prison for treason, insist he did none of that.

They described his trial as a farce in which no witnesses were brought to court. He confessed to giving information to the rebels only after being tortured, they said.

"He couldn't stand the beatings anymore and he changed. His gaze became blank. He didn't know who I was," his mother, Asbuni, a 43-year-old teacher, told AP at the mental hospital where Andrian was taken in early November.

She said she visited him in a police jail cell and saw dried blood and knife marks on his face. His legs were black and blue from beatings, she said.

Asbuni said she fears her son will be sent back to jail to serve the remainder of his sentence, which ends in February.

Aceh's military commander, Maj. Gen. Bambang Darmono, told AP he knew of no cases of soldiers violating the rights of minors. "I always tell my soldiers: Never torture children and women," he said.

In a surprising admission, however, the general said beating suspected rebels is acceptable as long as they are not seriously injured.

"For example, my soldier slugs a suspect across the face. That's no problem, as long as he is able to function after the questioning."

But, he added, "If it's gross torture which causes someone to be incapacitated -- that's a no-no."

Many people fear the plight of civilians in Aceh will worsen following the government's decision Nov. 6 to extend martial law for six more months.

"Andrian is only one tragic victim of this long-running war," said Dr. Kris Wardoyo, a psychiatrist who has been treating him. "The conflict is breeding hatred and hostility in the next generation, and the cycle of violence continues."

The 15-year-old boy who told of seeing his neighbors dragged out by soldiers, kicked and shot said he thinks only one of the three victims belonged to the Free Aceh Movement.

"The soldiers sprayed bullets in their heads at close range, yelling: 'You rebels! You rebels!"' said the boy, who asked not to be quoted by name for fear of reprisals from the military.

His story was corroborated by around 30 other people in his village. The boy, they said, stood the closest to where the shooting took place.

The teen who was wounded at the orphanage, Mariati, a small, wispy woman who has just turned 18, said she still has nightmares about the masked men who showed up in September and fatally shot the director, Tengku Zakaria.

Mariati said she was sitting just six feet away and a bullet grazed her ribs. "I woke up four days later in hospital, aching pain all over my body," she said.

Most of the children at the orphanage in the village of Usi Daya had been taken in by Zakaria after their parents were killed during war. Many had witnessed the shootings of their parents.

Villagers, who asked to remain anonymous for fear of reprisal from the rebels, said insurgents had demanded money from Zakaria and threatened to kill him if he refused to pay.

Aceh's cities are calmer since the government offensive began, but suspected kidnappings by security forces underline the lawlessness that has fueled the conflict.

In the district capital of Bireun, six young men, ages 17 to 22, disappeared in November when they set out on new motorbikes to cruise the town.

"I am sure rebels did not kidnap them and they didn't run away from their families," said Anwar Yusuf, a legislator who is also their neighbor. "Which rebel would dare to come to this town? It's heavily guarded by the police and under military control."

An uncle of one of the missing, who refused to be quoted by name, said he suspected the young men were taken because police officers wanted to steal their motorbikes -- a charge the police deny.

The conflict in Aceh has long been muddied by gun and drug running, extortion, kidnapping and other common crimes committed by both rebels and authorities.

Most Acehnese support independence but many are not enthusiastic about the rebels and their violent tactics. They want the government to allow a referendum similar to the U.N.-monitored vote in 1999 that led to independence for the province of East Timor.

"We are squeezed from many sides," said Yusuf, the legislator. "Military operations are one way of stopping violence from the rebels, but we feel that true, lasting peace is a long, long way off."