World News - security-forces

Feb

2013

8:49am, EST

Mexico security forces accused of abducting, murdering civilians

Yuri Cortez / AFP - Getty Images file

Relatives and human rights activists show a banner with pictures of missing people while marching during a protest marking the "International Week of the Detained-Disappeared" in May in Mexico City.

By Gabriel Stargardter, Reuters

IGUALA, Mexico - Dozens of people were abducted and murdered by Mexican security forces over the past six years during a gruesome war with drug cartels, Human Rights Watch said on Wednesday, urging President Enrique Pena Nieto to overhaul the military justice system.

The rights group said that since 2007 it has documented 149 cases of people who were never seen again after falling into the hands of security forces, and that the government failed to properly investigate the "disappearances."

"The result was the most severe crisis of enforced disappearances in Latin America in decades," the U.S.-based group said. (Link: Human Rights Watch's full report).

The report was a grim reminder of the dark side of the war on drug cartels that killed an estimated 70,000 people during former President Felipe Calderon's six-year presidency.

Human Rights Watch recommended reforming Mexico's military justice system and creating a national database to link the missing with the thousands of unidentified bodies that piled up during the military-led crackdown on drug cartels.

The report also illustrates the obstacles that President Pena Nieto, who took office in December, faces in trying to stem the violence, restore order over areas of the country controlled by the drug cartels and end abuses by security forces.

For nearly three years, 56-year-old shopkeeper Maria Orozco has sought to discover the fate of her son. She says he was abducted along with five colleagues by soldiers from the nightclub where they worked in Iguala, a parched town south of the Mexican capital.

She says a grainy security video, submitted anonymously, shows the moment in 2010 when local soldiers rounded up the men.

"We used to see the military like Superman or Batman or Robin. Super heroes," said Orozco. "Now the spirit of the whole country has turned against them."

Hers was one of the cases illustrated in the Human Rights Watch report.

27,000 disappeared?
Pena Nieto has vowed to take a different tack to his predecessor Calderon and focus on reducing violent crime and extortion rather than on going head to head with drug cartels.

The government last month introduced a long-delayed law to trace victims of the drug war and compensate the families. It says it is moving ahead with plans to roll out a genetic database to track victims and help families locate the disappeared.

"There exists, in theory, a database with more than 27,000 people on it," said Lia Limon, deputy secretary of human rights at Mexico's interior ministry. "It's a job that's beginning."

Daniel Becerril / Reuters

Mexican soldiers take part in an operation to locate members of the music group Kombo Kolombia near Mina township in the state of Nuevo Leon on Jan. 27. Sixteen members of the band and other staff members was reported missing by their relatives, according to local media.

Still, impunity remains rife. The armed forces opened nearly 5,000 investigations into criminal wrongdoing between 2007 and 2012, but only 38 ended in sentencing, according to Human Rights Watch.

In its report it describes the impact of the disappearances on victims' families, a daily reality for Ixchel Mireles, a 50-year-old librarian from the northern city of Torreon, whose husband Hector Tapia was abducted by men in federal police uniforms.

Neither Mireles nor her daughter has heard from Tapia since that night in June 2010.

"I want him to be alive, but the reality just destroys me," said Mireles. "I just want them to give him back, even if he is dead."

'Bulletproof'
Since her husband's disappearance, Mireles has struggled financially, having lost his 40,000 pesos ($3,143) a month salary. She has moved her daughter to a cheaper university and can barely keep up payments on her house.

"I now travel by foot," she said, noting that Mexico's social security system does not recognize the disappeared.

Some family members of the disappeared have asked for soldiers guilty of rights abuses to be judged like civilians, a move Mexico's Supreme Court has approved.

"To us it just seems that the military is untouchable," said Laura Orozco, 36, who says she witnessed her brother's military-led abduction. "They're bulletproof."

Mexicans form vigilante patrols against drug gangs

From May 2012: Mexico's drug war -- No sign of 'light at the end of the tunnel'

Jan

2012

7:56pm, EST

Damascus on edge under Assad's always watchful eye

Some say the Arab League observers' mission has been a failure. NBC's Ayman Mohyeldin reports.

Editor's note: Cairo-based NBC News correspondent Ayman Mohyeldin is reporting from Syria this week. Follow his updates on Twitter @Aymanm

By Ayman Mohyeldin , NBC News correspondent

Update at 5:20 p.m. ET Wednesday: Arab League monitor in Idleb described monitoring mission there as terrifying, repeatedly coming under attack and receiving threats.

Update at 8:18 a.m. ET Wednesday: Police in #damascus have let us go after about an hour and deleting our video of long petrol lines #syria

Update at 8 a.m. ET Wednesday: Ayman Mohyeldin says in a message on Twitter that he was "Taken to police station in #damascus. Despite having permits we were forced to delete video of people waiting in line."

Published at 8 p.m. ET Tuesday: Inside Syria, Day 1

DAMASCUS -- To say that Damascus suffers from a cult of personality is an understatement. Arriving in Damascus airport, there is no mistaking who runs Syria: "Doctor Bashar al-Assad."

In the short walk from the airplane to the car, I counted more than 200 posters plastered on the walls, columns, doors and pretty much everywhere my eye turned. All I could see were pictures carrying the image of Assad. From planting olive trees to donning full military dress, Assad is everywhere. Even customs officials processing our paperwork were humming pro-Assad songs.

A few hours later, at a dinner with old and new friends in a Damascus restaurant, I am told it's not just the president's image that is ubiquitous, it’s the entire security apparatus that's keeping a watchful eye on what is happening in Damascus. "Be careful what you say and when you say it," a friend tells me. "Never speak freely with a taxi driver or start a random conversation about what is going on," I am advised.

Syrian President Bassar Al-Assad vowed to crack down against those he blamed for trying to topple his regime. His forces shot at protestors and in a speech, he attacked the Arab League who've sent monitors into Syria. ITN's John Ray reports.

But despite the warning, there is a certain ease by which the current crisis comes to the surface of any discussion. Criticism of the government is rampant at one restaurant where conversations flow from table to table. An occasional silence interrupts the chats as diners peek over the shoulders to ensure no one is paying attention too closely. "It's OK, don’t worry, the regime has bigger problems right now than to worry what is being said on every table. We know everyone here," my friend says, nudging me to keep on eating.

Over the course of the next several hours, I hear about "Syria's uprising" from those living it daily, including its pitfalls, its weaknesses, its strengths. Lessons learned and gains made. In the background, a TV plays Arab music songs, and then a red ticker on the screen flashes a breaking news bulletin. In unison, heads across the restaurant turn: An explosion has been reported in the Damascus neighborhood of Nahr El Aisha. People turn back to their meals.

Damascus is a city on edge. There is an uneasy nervousness in the city. Yes, shops are open, and restaurants and cafés bustle with patrons. But that’s up to a certain time, and for those who know Damascus, it’s a few hours less than normal, and a few hours less than what it was just a few months ago. There is an unofficial curfew, imposed by residents who are weary of a different city after dark. There are parts of the city where the risks of travel are too dangerous at night. As we drive around one roundabout in the city, we veer on to a side street. "This side of the circle is safe. If you drive a kilometer in the other side, there are tensions between the residents and the security," my friend tells me.

Sana/Handout / EPA

An image of President Bashir al-Assad watches over the scene of a pro-government rally at Sabe Bahrat square in Damascus in December.

The government says "armed gangs" have inched closer to the capital, frequently attacking security checkpoints at night. Several attacks have already happened in the heart of the capital. And even government employees concede certain routes in and out of the city have become too dangerous to traverse. Anti-government activists say momentum is on their side as pressure mounts on the government, with political and military defections increasing. When night falls, security forces crack down on neighborhoods close to the capital where anti-government sentiment runs high.

Along one of the capital's main streets, one side of the street is well lit. The other is dark. Local residents tell me power outages are becoming more frequent across the city. There are rolling blackouts and increasing shortages of fuel and gas. Factories are shutting down, exports are halting. The value of the Syrian currency is plummeting and inflation is skyrocketing as a result of international and Arab sanctions that are aimed at punishing Assad's government. But the sanctions are clearly taking a toll on the daily lives of Syrians.

But their daily lives go on, it seems for now, as routine as they can be in the middle of a 10-month uprising against the rule of the man seen everywhere in Damascus.