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Subject: from Lee Onesto's diaries.........................
Indigo    7/4/2002 3:21:25 AM
JOURNAL ENTRY: 3/21 - Sunday, 1999 Yesterday a front page article in the Kathmandu Post carried the headline, "7 Maoists killed in encounter." According to the brief article, the incident happened in Banepa. I read the following, keeping in mind that many news reports of the people's war are not that reliable: "The Maoists were burned to death as the bomb they hurled at the police exploded among themselves after striking against the wall of the house they were staying in. The Maoist reportedly threw the bomb after they were told to surrender by the police. According to police, the cross-firing continued for two hours..." Since I've been in Nepal, there have been reports of Maoists being killed by the police at least a couple times a week, as well as reports of police or bad elements being killed or injured by Maoists. Each time I read these news items I am interested in knowing where they happen. So on this morning I got my map out and looked to see where Banepa is. In fact it is right along the road that we had traveled on from Kathmandu to the Eastern Region. I didn't think about this too much more during the day--although each time I read of brave comrades being killed, the thought of them occupies a corner of my mind all day. And when I walk past newsstands and re-read the headlines, there is always a recurring ache in my heart for these martyrs. In the evening a friend comes by who had been with us on our trip to the east. He had been back there since and talked with people about the Banepa incident. He tells us that the people killed in the incident were from the cultural squad we met. I am stunned by the news and I immediately close my eyes and try to remember their faces. Late, in the middle of the night, we had crowded onto the bed together, our legs crossed, knees touching. In the candle-lit room, their shadows had loomed large on the walls. I concentrate on remembering the faces of the young women guerrillas--the 15- and 16-year-olds who had left their villages after seeing their families and friends arrested, beaten, raped by the police--their fathers, uncles, mothers forced to go underground before them. Only a short time ago they had shared their war stories with me. Now seven of them--four men and three women--were dead after refusing to surrender to the police. In a deeper way the question of the martyrs hits me, both politically and emotionally. And I recall what one peasant woman told me, that "The killing of our comrades cannot stop the People's War...the blood of the martyrs is the fuel of the revolution." 3/25 - Thursday Today I learned a little bit more about the incident in Banepa where the seven guerrillas from the first squad we met were killed. The Kathmandu Post had reported they had died after they threw a bomb at the police. But this is a lie. Friends tell me they were surrounded and refused to surrender and there was shooting back and forth. Then the police set the house on fire. And when the comrades were forced to run out of the burning house they were shot in cold blood. My friends explain that the murder of these comrades was due to the spying and informing of a UML person who is running for office in the elections. Apparently, this is typical of the treacherous role the UML is playing these days, directly helping the government to target and murder revolutionaries. This afternoon someone brought me photos of the martyrs killed at Banepa. One of them was the young 15-year-old woman, the one with a sweet face who had been sitting right next to me on the bed that night. Her eyes had shone bright, even in the dim flicker of candlelight. I had heard my first notes of a revolutionary song in Nepal from these youth. They had been the first to teach me how to "lal salaam." They had given me my first face-to-face conversation with members of the people's army. These young comrades lived such short lives, but gave so much to the people. And now, I know they will be remembered and cherished in the hearts and minds of the masses. I will certainly never forget them.
 
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