By focusing on geography and ethnicity, the government seeks to distance itself from the violence and to feign powerlessness. Yet a visit to the region reveals the speciousness of its account. As in southern Sudan, where a civil war raged for decades, ethnic militias are not independent actors but are used by the government as a proxy force. Villages studded with craters attest to the government's repeated bombing attacks. Unexploded ordinance dropped from airplanes and helicopters offers further proof. And while locals relate atrocities committed by camel-riding Arab tribesmen, they say the men on camels are frequently accompanied by army soldiers in government vehicles.
Joanne and her small group tracked down and interviewed a Janjaweed leader:
We met him at an enormous home in an upscale neighborhood; everything about him spoke of money and power. Toward the end of our interview, we asked how many camels he owned. “It is difficult to say exactly,” he responded, unhappy with the question. “The whole wealth of the tribe is mine.”
A striking feature in the region is the predominance of women:
What was most striking about most of the displaced families we met was what they didn't include: men. Some men had joined the SLA, and some had stayed in their villages while sending their families to safety in the hills, but many were dead.
Joanne asks what can be done? International pressure is needed, but U.S. credibility is weak:
Although the UN Security Council has insisted that the violence in Darfur stop, its latest resolutions on the crisis have been weak. The Chinese and the Russians, among others, are clearly determined to block meaningful action. But the failure of international will is partially due to the fact that the United States, which has led the way in calling attention to the Darfur crisis, is at a low point in its international credibility. A telling moment was the palpable skepticism abroad that greeted Secretary of State Colin Powell's announcement that the violence in Darfur constitutes genocide.
