Complex and enduring rivalries over natural resources are the real cause of the horrific violence in Kalimantan, writes John Walker.
The recent spate of killings of ethnic Madurese in Central Kalimantan has again exposed how poorly equipped many Australian media are for either accurate reporting or informed analysis of events in Indonesia.
Most media have characterised the violence as "ethnic cleansing" and "an orchestrated campaign" by one "ethnic" group, the "Dayaks", against another, the "Madurese". There have been accounts of Dayaks cutting off victims' heads, cutting out their hearts and smearing themselves with the blood. Such horrors must be acknowledged; but it is also important not to play to Australian (and Javanese) prejudices about primitive Borneo and its "wild men". Actually, very few corpses appear to have been mutilated.
The situation is far more complex than the reporting might suggest. The violence reflects deep, enduring conflicts between a range of indigenous groups loosely categorised as "Dayaks" and Madurese settlers.
The word "Dayak" is a label applied by non-Dayaks to Borneo's non-Muslim indigenous inhabitants. With few reporters actually filing from Central Kalimantan, it is impossible to be certain which Dayaks are involved in the conflict. Though the violence appears widespread, it is not part of an orchestrated campaign. To report that Dayaks are killing Madurese does not tell us much about exactly who is involved. Nor should the killings be characterised as "ethnic cleansing".
Dayaks are not a single ethnic group but speak a range of distinct languages and have widely divergent social structures and value systems. Readers and reporters should be sceptical of "Dayak spokesmen", asking for whom they speak and with what authority.
Far from having its origins in ethnicity, the present killings in Central Kalimantan, like those in western Kalimantan in 1998-99, reflect deep conflict over natural resources. Indonesia does not guarantee indigenous people's rights over land. Many Indonesian officials wrongly consider that because Dayaks shift their agriculture from place to place, they do not have indigenous legal systems governing land use or rights. Even if such systems were recognised, they would not override the Indonesian Government's claim to be the ultimate source of title to land, and the regulator of land use.
Much of what appears to be jungle in Borneo is forest lying fallow, land already cleared and farmed by Dayaks who will return to farm it again.
Under indigenous law, the act of clearing primary rainforest bestows enduring ownership rights. Primary rainforest is also important as a source of game, rattan and other jungle produce, as well as timber for building, plus new farmland.
Since the 1960s the Indonesian Government has increasingly asserted a right to allocate very large tracts of primary forest for logging concessions and for palm oil and other plantations without regard for indigenous land ownership or use.
Deforestation in Central Kalimantan accelerated during the 1990s following the construction of a logging access road from Sampit (the epicentre of the present violence) to the centre of the island. The road not only allowed dramatic increases in commercial logging but made large tracts of land accessible to Madurese and other newcomers who do not understand or do not recognise the pre-existing claims of indigenous shifting cultivators.
The tensions such policies have created between indigenous people and Jakarta governments have been localised and directed against the Madurese.
Local resentment of Madurese has three specific grounds. As newcomers, Madurese often occupy farmland owned by Dayaks. Though the areas allocated to Madurese are insignificant compared with the acreages alienated by the Government as logging concessions or plantations, Madurese are a more visible focus for resentment than international or national corporations.
Themselves poor, unskilled and socially dislocated, many Madurese have found jobs in the plantation and logging sectors, displacing local people and ensuring that Madurese are, however unjustifiably, identified with land-hungry commercial operations.
These social and economic factors are exacerbated by cultural differences.
Madurese culture strongly emphasises personal honour, and Madurese men have a vigorous martial tradition. They go about armed and are often found working as security guards and in other jobs which require physical courage and confidence.
Borneans and other Indonesians characterise them as rough, violent and quarrelsome. For example, in Kalimantan they reportedly harvest other people's crops and knowingly squat on others' land.
Widespread attacks on Madurese in West Kalimantan in 1998-99 were precipitated by a Madurese revenging himself on a bus driver he believed had insulted him. The present killings are said to have been sparked when a group of Madurese burned a house sheltering a family the Madurese believed had been involved in killing one of their number.
One complication in Kalimantan is that the Dayaks and Madurese are both less victims of each other than of the economic and political policies of the Soeharto regime and its corporate collaborators. It might also be worth remembering that not all indigenous people are as forbearing in the face of dispossession as indigenous Australians.
[A fellow of the Borneo Research Council, John Walker lectures in politics at University College, the Australian Defence Force Academy, Canberra. He recently returned from Sarawak, East Malaysia.]