OSH, Kyrgyzstan — Uzbek women began ferrying their children through coils of barbed wire on Friday, back to Kyrgyzstan from neighboring Uzbekistan a week after ethnic bloodshed uprooted some 400,000 people. Their arrival was one sign that the humanitarian crisis was stabilizing.
But they returned to an altered nation — to destroyed homes guarded by the men they left behind in barricaded Uzbek enclaves still seething at the government and their ethnic Kyrgyz neighbors.
The southern area had calmed enough that the nation’s interim president, Roza Otunbayeva, strapped into a beige flak jacket, ventured there for the first time since the violence broke out on the night of June 10. Underscoring one of many reasons for anger among the minority ethnic Uzbeks, she conceded that the number of dead, most of them Uzbek, could be 10 times the official toll of 200.
“Those who planned and carried out this violence had big plans, but we were able to disrupt them,” she said at a town hall. “We intend to rebuild all the destroyed regions.”
Despite Ms. Otunbayeva’s contention that the government stopped the violence, it was widely seen to be weak and helpless as the violence broke out, unable to control even members of its own military, accused by many witnesses of carrying out atrocities. Ms. Otunbayeva did not mention whether she would support a wide-ranging inquiry into the causes of the violence, for which the government has blamed — though in vague terms — the deposed president, Kurmanbek S. Bakiyev.
She spoke before ethnic Kyrgyz, who made it clear that while the violence may be over for now, tensions were still exceptionally high.
“These Uzbeks want Uzbekistan to come in here and push out the Kyrgyz,” said Gulmira Jamilova. She said that five of her relatives had been missing since the violence began, and that she suspected that Uzbeks were holding them hostage.
United Nations agencies offered their first broad estimate of the scope of the crisis, saying that more than one million people might need assistance, including at least 75,000 who remained in neighboring Uzbekistan. On Friday, a United States diplomat arrived in the region and called for an inquiry into the bloodshed.
The official, Assistant Secretary of State Robert O. Blake, called for the Kyrgyz provisional government to step up its efforts to end any lingering violence. Mr. Blake visited refugee camps on Friday on the Uzbekistan side, hearing numerous statements from ethnic Uzbeks about the violence.
The returning refugees, many hundreds of them, nearly all women and children, walked past a checkpoint at the border with Uzbekistan and through a hole in a barbed-wire fence in the early afternoon to get back to Kyrgyzstan. Some said they feared more bloodshed but missed the men they left behind. Many ethnic Uzbek men did not leave, instead guarding what was left of buildings set ablaze during the rioting.
Sayora Khakimova, 31, said that refugee camps in Uzbekistan were unexpectedly clean and well organized, but that she yearned to see her family. “My papa is here, my relatives are here,” she said. “I was born and grew up here. Over there, everything was good, people helped you. But my home is not over there.”
Like others interviewed, she railed against ethnic Kyrgyz, who she said attacked her neighborhood and killed many residents. And she said she had no faith in the Kyrgyz provisional government, which took office in April after rioting ousted the president.
Nigora Ruziyeva, 28, an ethnic Uzbek who returned with her two young children, said she had hesitated because of concerns that there would be future attacks.
“Of course, we are scared,” Ms. Ruziyeva said. “We do not know how we are going to live now, but we decided that we had to come back.”
Not everyone felt that way. Manzura Abdullayeva, 26, wanted out. She stood on the Kyrgyz side with her three young children, watching the people surge in, and was not dissuaded. She said she had abandoned her home and was desperate for help, out of money, her children hungry.
“I have been crying, praying that God will help us,” she said. “It’s dangerous here. Kyrgyzstan can’t be my home anymore. Maybe there is some hope over there, because it can’t get any worse here.”
Her despair was echoed in Uzbek neighborhoods across southern Kyrgyzstan. Even on Friday, several days after the disturbances had ended, grim discoveries were being made.
During the violence, Batir Mondzhurayev, 38, a taxi driver, could not reach his father by phone, desperately calling over and over. The situation was relatively calm by Monday, but Mr. Mondzhurayev could not travel to his father’s house because Kyrgyz soldiers had set up checkpoints and were preventing many Uzbeks from reaching Uzbek enclaves.
At one point, he dialed his father’s number and someone answered. But it was a Kyrgyz voice.
Mr. Mondzhurayev recalled the conversation: “This person said, ‘What? You want your father? How much money do you have? Your father is wounded, in the hospital. Oh, you have no money? Then your father is dead.’ Taunting me, playing those sorts of games.”
He said he hoped that his father’s phone had just been stolen, but was anxious. Finally, Mr. Mondzhurayev was able to drive to his father’s house on Friday morning. It was a charred shell. Amid the debris, he saw his father’s body, burned almost beyond recognition. Mr. Mondzhurayev fought back tears.
Toichi Mondzhurayev was 64 years old, and had worked at an auto plant before retiring.
Neighbors said that on that one block, where most homes were severely damaged by arson fires, 16 ethnic Uzbeks had been killed.
“Look at all these buildings,” Mr. Mondzhurayev said. “So many people have died here. And the government does not care.”
Michael Schwirtz contributed reporting.
Driver from:www.nytimes.com
