John Martinkus – In April, 1000 pro-independence demonstrators met Ralph Boyce when the United States ambassador to Indonesia arrived in Jayapura, the West Papuan capital. They were mostly highlanders dressed in feathered head-dresses; some sported the traditional penis gourds. They danced and hustled the small US group up the road from the airport to the grave of Theys Eluay, the independence leader who was murdered last November, allegedly by members of the Indonesian paramilitary group Kopassus.
It was a blindingly hot morning. The ambassador and his press attache were red in the face and dripping with sweat by the time they reached the grave. Thom Beanal, the new leader of Presidium, the moderate independence party, made a short speech, then presented the Americans with a string bag and declared that the visit showed the recognition Papua now received in the outside world. The crowd, many holding banners rejecting autonomy instead of full independence, whooped with joy. The ambassador looked annoyed. This was not on his agenda.
The US (like Australia) supports Indonesia's special autonomy program for West Papua,introduced this year, which allows for greater local control and puts 80 per cent of revenue from the resource-rich province back into the local economy. But now Boyce was caught up in a demonstration for independence. Clearly his presence was sending the wrong message. He and his press attache quickly left for meetings with the Governor, the pro-independence civilian leaders, the police and the Indonesian military. After he left, leaders got out a megaphone and addressed the crowd. It was the first time anyone could remember US diplomats coming to West Papua since the "Act of Free Choice", the United Nations-conducted vote in 1969 that ratified Indonesia's 1963 takeover of West Papua from the Dutch.
Eli Wantik, a student from West Papua's Cenderawasih University, grabbed the megaphone and gave a speech in English (he had planned to read it to the ambassador). The US, he demanded, must acknowledge the integration of Papua into Indonesia against the will of the people. The crowd clapped enthusiastically as the speech was translated. Everybody, despite the tribal dress and primitive appearance, knew how the US had supported first the 1962 "New York Agreement" that transferred power from the Dutch to the Indonesians, and then the 1969 Act of Free Choice that ratified it. A pig was slaughtered and cooked in a pit and handed out with sweet potatoes. It was a sign of respect for the ambassador, but he had gone.
The next day Boyce attended a seminar on the autonomy package at Cenderawasih, Papua's main university. Outside the building was a noisy demonstration against autonomy and in favour of independence. Inside, Boyce was bombarded by students' questions about the US position. Why was the US doing nothing to support the aspirations of the Papuan people? Boyce, who was in a difficult position, acknowledged that "the Papuan people are simply demanding that which has been taken away from them". He urged people not to "go out and tell your colleagues that the United States does not support the aspirations of the Papuan people because ... that would be too simplistic".
But when the students told the demonstrators outside that the US backed the autonomy compromise, a group started yelling terrifying highlander war whoops and tried to smash down the doors. Other students, who minutes before had aggressively questioned the ambassador, were forced to fight their own people to stop them storming into the building. Some students later accused those who had started the violence of being in the pay of the Indonesians.
The incident reflected the tension and divisions in West Papua's independence movement. Should it respond to the current impasse with violence or negotiation? It also showed just how much the Indonesian effort to divide the movement has succeeded, and how much the bid for Papuan independence has stalled.
On August 31, at the US-owned Freeport gold and copper mine in West Papua's Central Highlands, gunmen shot dead three people, including two American schoolteachers. The ambush in which the victims died has become the subject of claim and counterclaim between Indonesian authorities, who blame independence campaigners, and the West Papuan resistance movement, who say it was an Indonesian contrivance to destabilise independence plans.
Whoever was responsible, the effect is still the same: hopes for a peaceful transfer of rule from Jakarta to West Papua have been undermined, perhaps for good. Just a few years ago, these hopes were high. President Suharto had fallen, democracy was stirring in Indonesia, and East Timor was moving towards a ballot on independence. In 1999, 100 Papuan leaders visited Jakarta to demand self-determination for Papua. In 2000, demonstrations for independence became more common.
About 60,000 of West Papua's Indonesian residents emigrated in this period. They thought Papuan assertiveness would bring only independence or military-sponsored violence; neither offered them much of a future. (After more than 20 years of Indonesian transmigration programs, Papua's population of 2.2 million is now only 60 per cent indigenous. Most of the rest are Indonesians. They live mainly in the towns and run most of Papua's businesses.) The new independence movement was led by Theys Eluay. He was an unusual choice as national saviour. Thirty years earlier, he had been one of the traditional leaders who signed the Act of Free Choice.
He was also linked to the military's business interests, particularly logging, and before 1998 hehad been a pro-Indonesian politician in Suharto's Golkar party.
None of that mattered now. With his shock of white hair, loud shirts and lack of reverence for authority, Eluay connected with ordinary Papuans. Through 1999 and 2000 he was regularly on the cover of the Cenderawasih Post (the Jayapura daily newspaper). He was the link between Papua's traditional highland leaders, the mainly Indonesian-educated elite of the moderate Presidium party and the guerrilla army, the OPM, in the bush. To many Papuans he represented the hope that, with the Presidium leadership advocating a non-violent, negotiated solution, independence was attainable.
Then, last November, Eluay was found dead in his car – strangled or suffocated by a plastic bag, an autopsy revealed. Eluay had been at a Kopassus dinner in Jayapura that night and his death is widely thought to be the work of the special forces. Ten Kopassus members have now been charged over the murder but none have been tried, and with the only witness to the killing – Eluay's driver – still missing, it seems unlikely the case will lead to any convictions.
Eluay's death devastated the independence movement and helped restore the power of the military. By the middle of this year the Papuan militia, Satgas Papua, run by Eluay's son Boy, had gone and Indonesian soldiers again patrolled the streets. In June, prominent highland leader Yafet Yelemaken, a member of the Papuan Presidium Council, was poisoned and died; again, the military was blamed. That month, Benny Wenda, a leader of the highlanders, who are overwhelmingly pro-independence, was arrested and jailed. Human rights reports say he is being mistreated and is sick in jail. The military has also funded militia groups and the transportation to Papua of about 3000 members of the Muslim fundamentalist group, Laskar Jihad. In Sorong, at the far western tip of West Papua, close to Ambon, locals allege that boatloads of weapons and Laskar Jihad members have arrived with the connivance of the local military.
This year the local human rights organisation Elsham obtained documents outlining the arming and recruitment of pro-Indonesian militia in the province. "The Indonesian Government is trying to break the Papuan people up," says Johannes Bonai, the organisation's director. Bonai says he received death threats from the military a little more than one hour after he convened a news conference in February, alleging links between the military and the death of Eluay. Now Thom Beanal has replaced Theys Eluay as head of the Papuan Presidium Council, the elected civilian leaders. They still want a nonviolent path to independence and have widespread support inside Papua. They have no faith in Indonesia's autonomy offer; they say the money will simply be siphoned off by the Indonesian administration and the Papuan people will see no benefits.
Beanal wants a referendum on independence, "if not this year, next year ... we don't want it to be like East Timor, them coming in and shooting people". Beanal wants the military to leave and the UN to run the referendum. "If we do a referendum with the soldiers here, it will be like 1969. They will choose Indonesia." Beanal was recalling the open meetings instead of secret ballots in which Papuans were required to vote for or against Indonesian rule in 1969. With the military present, who would have been brave enough to vote against?
The Indonesian Government has not responded to Presidium's calls for a referendum. On July 17, the Papuan police chief Made Pastika ordered all police stations in Papua to begin operations against separatists. The Presidium suspects this is part of a program to outlaw their organisation. In a statement after the killing of the Freeport workers, the Presidium blamed the security forces, notably Kopassus, for fomenting unrest in the province. The Indonesian military fears "a decline in revenue from their economic activities [for example, illegal logging, smuggling of birds of paradise, protection of foreign companies]". The statement also alleges that the unresolved recent deaths of Eluay and two other leaders are part of a covert operation by the Indonesian security forces to destroy the Presidium.
Sadly for the moderate Papuan independence movement the operation appears to be working. The armed elements of the OPM are gaining support as the Presidium's non-violent path to independence appears to be failing. Emboldened, elements of the OPM are contemplating abandoning the Presidium's calls for peace. Many moderates who came out to support the Presidium are worried about Indonesian reprisals. With the moderates under attack, and the extreme elements of the OPM and the Indonesian military strengthened, West Papua is a tinderbox.