A chasm of perceptions, of mind-sets, is unfortunate but inevitable between a people claiming to have been oppressed and those deeply offended by such a claim.

This situation is again apparent in the current visit to Aceh by Hasan Tiro, the most senior living leader of the province's former resistance movement, returning after 29 years of self-imposed exile. Some common understanding might bridge this gap, if indeed we all have a stake in supporting the 2005 agreement to stop decades of bloodshed.

There are those for and against the now frail leader's trip, made all the way from Sweden, the adopted country of the man referred to with reverence here as Teungku Prof. Mohammad Hasan di Tiro, or "Wali Nanggroe" – the inheritor of Aceh as entrusted to his ancestor Cik di Tiro by leading ulema, so the popular history goes.

At 83, Tiro is no longer the bearded, fierce-looking and hard-headed leader who was regarded as one of the main obstacles to peace in Aceh. Yet regardless of suspicions about whether the Indonesian government and Military helped to make the Free Aceh Movement (GAM) seem larger than it really was, and Tiro's long detachment from life on the ground, he remains the one that the Acehnese look up to. The crowds gawking at his presence brought the entire town of Banda Aceh to a standstill on Saturday.

If his visit, planned to last around two weeks, strengthens the sense of unity and commitment to peace among the Acehnese, then this is the boost badly needed in the post-conflict and post-tsunami period, when many have voiced frustration at the slow delivery of promises. Worse, many are wary of a return to insecurity, with violent incidents such as bombings and kidnappings in a number of areas over the past few months.

To avoid unnecessary tension, officials have dropped plans to have Tiro meet President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono and Vice President Jusuf Kalla. For now it is sufficient that the former leading voice for independence explicitly and repeatedly thanked these crucial supporters of the peace agreement in front of the Acehnese public.

This message also responds to the nagging question, mainly voiced in the media outside Aceh, about whether his visit might revive those aspirations of separatism. This is a valid concern of a public distraught over the loss of East Timor, which they blame on a hasty decision by a president who chose to let go of an embarrassing problem rather than patiently patching things up.

And indeed, some of those who came from near and far to see Tiro told this newspaper that separatism was still the better option for Nanggroe Aceh Darussalam. They said they doubted whether even the memorandum of understanding, which contributed to its facilitator Marti Ahtisaari winning the Nobel Peace Prize, could suddenly bring about a genuine, long-term commitment from the government to patch up their broken hearts, devastated by years of injustice and sacrifice.

But locals do not have the luxury of analyzing whether former GAM members and supporters could summon up the will and energy to take up arms again – given the surge of trust in Jakarta in the wake of the December 2004 tsunami and, nine months later, the Helsinki agreement.

Jakarta's political and military leaders, and the GAM leaders, who were all for war, were forced to respect the people's wishes, to resort to the ballot instead of the bullet.

Independence may still be the quiet goal of Partai Aceh, the Aceh Party formed by former GAM leaders, but next year's election will show them how popular that aspiration really is. The former rebels, treated with a mixture of awe, affection, fear and silent disgust, given their confusing variety of elements and behavior, are now just part of another political party. The ordinary civilian can now speak up.

These civilians demand that everyone uphold law and order. This week people have complained that Partai Aceh is stealing a start on the election campaign – the party's flags with their dominant red, white and black, the tricolor of the former GAM, have been everywhere among the crowds welcoming Tiro.

Locals are therefore far removed from the question of whether Tiro will again inspire the Acehnese, as he did in the 1950s. As a young man awarded a scholarship to study law in the United States, he instead publicly denounced Sukarno's government and threatened to take action if there was no end to the "bloodshed" against people in Aceh and other areas then affected by insurgency.

The Acehnese people's new trust in the government, however, has not wiped out their traditional reservations about the capital, which strengthen every time they feel "Jakarta has broken its promise" when pledges are slow to materialize. Thus their polite bemusement when we ask whether this legendary people of warriors might stab us in the back again.

While appealing for continued international monitoring in the early years of peace, the Acehnese are heavily counting on themselves to better the lives of their families and communities. They needed to see a long-lost leader, albeit briefly, and went back to business, fulfilled. Tiro has not said much in public, but they only needed that uplifting sense of a figure who clearly acknowledged what they were going through.

Sharing that acknowledgement is the least we could do. We often forget that Indonesians in many areas, not only those in Aceh, are also preoccupied with ensuring we can live in dignity and peace of mind, free from fear of those who think it is their birthright to abuse power.