Sam Mason on why so many Pakistani Christians are fleeing to Thailand
Like most Londoners, I spend a lot of my time at a desk.
I write emails, stuff envelopes and answer the telephone. My office – based in the middle of Westminster – sits next to a fancy private school, with superb views of Parliament and the Abbey. Sometimes I have meetings with politicians. Sometimes I arrange interviews with journalists. And sometimes, on my daily trip to Central Lobby, I walk past famous people and pretend not to care.
Researcher for Baroness Cox
I’m a parliamentary researcher. And for two years I have been supporting the work of Caroline Cox – arguably the most impressive and well-liked member of the House of Lords. She has devoted her life to international humanitarian aid and, unlike most Londoners, is often required to enter war zones under fire, visiting people off the radar and largely out of sight of the world’s media.
Earlier this year, Baroness Cox asked me to join her on a trip to Bangkok. Our purpose: to visit Pakistani Christians who have fled to Thailand in order to escape violent persecution. The nature of my work means I often read about such atrocities and try my best to make a difference from the comfort of my swivel chair. But this was the first time I was tasked with getting on a plane, visiting those in the midst of despair and witnessing their suffering first hand. It had a massive impact on me. More than I was expecting. Which is why I am writing this now.
But before I continue, it’s probably worth providing a short disclaimer: I am not a seasoned traveller with expertise in foreign affairs. Nor can I pretend to understand the depths of complexity involved in Pakistani-Thai relations. I am a suit-wearing, touch-typing, 20-something-year-old who tagged along to assist with research and admin. These are my thoughts, which any reader should feel free to disagree with.
It’s also worth providing more context.
The situation in Pakistan
• In Pakistan, religious minorities are increasingly subject to brutal attacks and discrimination: suicide bombers and gunmen have killed hundreds of Christians; Islamic blasphemy laws have been used by extremists as a pretext to murder. Other people have been imprisoned or sentenced to death.
• Thousands of Christians are consequently fleeing to Thailand. It’s one of the few countries that issues Pakistanis with visas upon arrival.
• But, once their brief tourist visa expires, individuals are deemed guilty of illegal immigration. If they get caught, they are sent to an immigration detention centre, the conditions of which I refer to below.
• So – as victims of persecution, refugees can’t return to Pakistan. Yet without official refugee status, they can’t leave Thailand. They are stuck.
Maybe it’s different outside the Westminster bubble, but people here find it difficult to talk about this kind of religious persecution. Parliamentarians seem to adopt an overly-cautious tone which stifles proper debate about the application of shari’a law worldwide. Granted, these are particularly sensitive matters, with no simple remedies, but surely it’s time we started navigating this subject with a little more oomph.
So, here are my observations.
The situation in Thailand
Bangkok is not like London. It’s hot and people are polite. The river front and roads bustle with colour and activity. It smells of jasmine, hot tarmac and street food. Golden statues of Buddha share space with old wooden huts, which share space with towering skyscrapers. It’s incredible. Perfect for a holiday.
The immigration detention centre (IDC) is fairly close to the city centre. It’s on a busy street opposite a nice little café and, as far as I could tell, fairly accessible to those wishing to bring food parcels to inmates. Approaching the main entrance we passed a car park full of cage-tipper trucks, presumably used by the immigration police to round-up the ‘illegals’. Once inside, we queued for a bit, filled out some forms, put our things in a locker and were searched by security. Months earlier, the BBC had produced an undercover film about the conditions inside, so the staff were understandably thorough.
We were there to speak to Pakistani Christians who have fled persecution in their own country. But hearing what they had to say proved difficult. The vast hall was split longways by a tall wire-mesh fence, behind which stood hundreds of detainees in matching orange T-shirts. There was a metre gap in front of the fence, patrolled by a guard, and then another fence for us to stand behind. It meant that everyone was shouting.
One man, who I will call Reggie, told me his story. He was not dishevelled or rebellious, as I half-expected him to be, but was articulate, gentle and sincere. A baker by trade. Two years older than me. Reggie had escaped from Pakistan after being kidnapped by a gang of Muslims. Soon after he arrived in Thailand, he was arrested and brought to the IDC, where he shares a cell with 130 other men, the vast majority of whom are Pakistani Christians. He had recently missed the birth of his second child and didn’t know when he’d be released. Can you imagine?
Personal stories
The previous day was spent crossing the city to meet families who, like Reggie, have managed to escape Pakistan. Despite being UN-registered asylum seekers, they are constantly at risk of being taken to the IDC.
Every home we visited was the same. About five metres square, the size of my London office. We listened carefully to their stories, but it was impossible to fathom the extent of their suffering. They showed us videos, they showed us photos and they showed us their scars. Extracts from their personal testimonies give you an idea of what I’m talking about: The smell was sicken- ing. All I could see was dead bodies. My village was destroyed. Everything was burnt. Nothing remained. / I was tortured, hanged upside down, shackled and beaten for seven days. They chal- lenged me to convert to Islam or they would charge me with blasphemy. / They took my five- year-old son and sent him to an Islamic school… Plans were underway to transfer him to a mili- tant training cell in Rajasthan. / Two Muslim men came in a car and kidnapped my daughter. As much as the other children tried to help, there was nothing they could do to stop it. / They grabbed the baby, repeatedly smashed him into a wall, and demanded to know my whereabouts.
Waiting for change
Since we returned from Bangkok, the UN Refugee Agency has received about £250,000 to support the status determination process for asylum-seekers in Thailand. I don’t expect this will alleviate all of the problems outlined above, but it does represent a significant step that will hopefully reduce the backlog of asylum applications, enabling people like Reggie to move on with their lives.
In the meantime, ordinary families in Pakistan continue to suffer all sorts of horrid persecution. It is very sad. And unless there’s a seismic cultural shift soon, it’s hard to envisage how their plight might end. We all recognise that ruthless interpretations of shari’a law – in conjunction with the failure of authorities to ensure due legal processes – has resulted in masses of real-life horror stories. Our politicians must do more to hold the Government of Pakistan to account. But the onus also falls on us. As Baroness Cox likes to remind me: ‘We cannot do everything, but we must not do nothing’. At the very least, we can speak about these issues a little more often, and with a little less ignorance.
