Small groups of Mapuche Indians have so rattled Chile by seizing forests, burning buses and attacking police to demand land and autonomy that the leftist government has turned to dictatorship-era measures to quell the violence.

The government of President Michelle Bachelet is prosecuting Mapuche activists with secret evidence, protected witnesses and other tough aspects of an anti-terrorism law inherited from Gen. Augusto Pinochet, who jailed and tortured Bachelet's father and sent her into exile.

The police crackdown has left a stain on Bachelet's otherwise
strong human rights record, with UNICEF, the UN Human Rights
Commission and other international organizations expressing concern
that elderly people and children are being abused.

After police killed a Mapuche activist in August, Bachelet said
she understands the historic claims of the indigenous group, which
once occupied most of Patagonia. Forced off good land by centuries
of discriminatory practices, most now live in impoverished,
marginalized communities in Chile's Araucania region or provide
low-wage labor in the capital, Santiago.

But she said nothing justifies the violence, which so far has
left four Mapuches dead and 100 convicted or jailed, at least 34 of

"It must be understood that the only way to resolve the
legitimate historical demands of the Mapuche people is dialogue,"
said Bachelet, who despite her 78 percent approval rating has been
bedeviled by the Indian conflict as she prepares to step down in
March.

Bachelet had promised during and after her 2006 election
campaign not to use the terrorism law against the Mapuches. But her
government has since insisted that it is a necessary response - and
that judges ultimately decide whether it applies.

"These are terrorist acts such as shooting at people, setting
fire to buses and factories," Indigenous Affairs Minister Jose
Viera Gallo said Tuesday.

The Associated Press and other news agencies toured the conflict
zone 400 miles (650 kilometers) south of Santiago last weekend,
speaking with jailed leaders and visiting indigenous communities.

Reporters saw women, elderly people and a baby injured with
pellet wounds. And while their fear was palpable, so was their
shared commitment to keep fighting - either through violence or
peaceful means.

The Mapuche resisted Spanish and Chilean domination for more
than 300 years, and their desire for autonomy remains strong. It
wasn't until 1881 that they were defeated militarily and forced
into Araucania, south of the Bio Bio river, about 550 kilometers
south of the capital.

Many of the 700,000 Mapuches who survive among Chile's 17
million people now live in about 2,000 communities in Araucania. Of
these, about 100 are openly in rebellion against the government,
while most of the rest favor peaceful negotiations for land,
supplies and equipment.

Activists have occupied the forests, attacked police and pulled
people from their vehicles along the Pan-American highway before
setting the vehicles on fire, destroying 27 buses worth $100,000
each in the last two years alone. The unrest has created so much
risk for outside investors that the local economy has been badly
hurt.

The most combative band fighting for autonomy is led by Hector
Llaitul, 42, who was arrested on terrorism charges and faces 40
years in prison if convicted of attempted murder, aggravated
robbery, terrorist conspiracy and challenging authority.

Llaitul said the Mapuche are ready to sit down and negotiate,
but he also rejected nonviolence in the same prison interview,
saying "sweat and blood must run in order to reclaim land."

He denied government allegations of getting help from Colombia's
FARC rebels or the ETA Basque separatists in Spain. Other jailed
Mapuches accused authorities of torturing them and manufacturing
evidence.

Bachelet has ruled out granting the Mapuche some sort of a
politically autonomous zone, and Gallo on Tuesday called that idea
"a utopia - it doesn't have the slightest aspect of reality."

"If we are to understand autonomy as how Llaitul and some of
the most extreme sectors see it - an autonomy like the Basques or
the Catalans - this isn't possible in Araucania, because the
Mapuche people are a minority everywhere," Gallo said.

Instead, Bachelet has led an ambitious effort to buy land and
clear title to properties Mapuches can share, delivering more than
1.6 million acres (650,000 hectares) to more than 100 communities
before the effort slowed as land prices nearly tripled in the last
year.

Now she's considering Plan Araucania, a proposal delivered to
her last week by a coalition of 100 Mapuche groups and regional
business owners that would formally acknowledge Mapuche culture and
provide socio-economic help.

"It's a promise from the country to resolve our problems
without violence or repression," said Andres Molina, who leads a
coalition of unions and worked with business owners and Mapuche
leaders on the plan. "The region wants peace - but not the peace
of the cemetery."

But even Mapuches who favor nonviolence say they are suffering
from the police response.

"The police don't respect us ... they come firing their tear
gas, their rubber bullets, their iron bullets," said Daniel
Queipul, whose majority faction in the village of Temucuicui has
tried to work with the government.

While the government has accused Mapuches of using children as
human shields, Queipul says the community gave UNICEF and other
groups a list of 32 children who had suffered from tear gas
attacks.

"My house is been raided about 10 times, and they've never
shown me any search warrant, and the raids have always been super
violent," said Griselda Alhueque in a typical complaint. "They
mistreat the women, the children. They don't hold back - they
always come in pointing their weapons."