Reach for the Morning Star - West Papua / International Support

New Internationalist, April, 2002 by Chris Richards

After nearly three weeks in West Papua, Chris Richards concludes that West Papuans are well on their way to freedom -- but it's too early to celebrate yet.

My last day in West Papua starts in the same place as my first in Sentani, 36 kilometres west of Jayapura. And once again I am in a crowd outside the house of the assassinated leader Theys Eluay -- this time to commemorate the independence-day flag raising. There is singing and clapping, as the Morning Star flag flaps in the wind above our heads. Rows of seats outside the house are filled with hundreds of people. The streets are full of hundreds more.

The armed forces arrived last night by the truck-load. Now they casually walk the streets with guns slung across their shoulders. Some, with cameras and camcorders, are taking pictures of the crowd. I say hello in Indonesian to two. As I pass, one asks the other: 'Do you like her?' After the indiscriminate rapes I know the military have committed here, the hair rises on the back of my neck.

The young West Papuans standing next to me say the military presence here is an attempt to stir up unrest. We watch five soldiers sit down, then clap and sing with the crowd. The military are Theys Eluay's likely assassins, so their presence is indeed provocative.

With missionary zeal, a church leader talks about the need for nonviolence. He wears a tie asking: 'What would Jesus do?' (Not wear a tie like this, I think.) I ask the young West Papuans whether peace will be maintained today. They say yes, peace is good. But if it cannot deliver independence soon, they must use other means.

Papua Council head Tom Beanal arrives after the military men leave. The Council knows that every time the crowd takes up arms this will be used to justify the military presence in the country. Its members do a remarkable job, trying to stop the people from reacting with violence, but it is an uneasy peace. Tom Beanal tells them to reject Indonesian legislation that gives the country partial autonomy, and he calls for full independence. 'We will die defending that position,' he says. He means: be killed -- but do not kill.

That West Papuans deserve independence seems to me indisputable. Their country was handed to the Indonesians in a shameful referendum held at gunpoint: a sham overseen by the international community through the United Nations. Since then, its wealth has been plundered by transnational corporations, by the Indonesian Government and by military generals. Even now that hundreds of thousands of West Papuans have been killed, even after thousands more have died, West Papuans will go on asserting their independence.

Like Theys Eluay. Watching the independence-day celebrations here in front of his house, with swarms of troops in the surrounding streets, I can't help thinking that his assassination was no isolated incident. It is a climax, introducing a new era of more confident brutality towards the West Papuans. As a priority, the military intervention in West Papua must be stopped. Most leaders I've spoken to in West Papua are calling for demilitarization -- but from where I'm now standing at this moment that prospect is remote.

Papua Council heavyweight Willy Mandowen is more positive in his outlook. He thinks that the very reason why the military wants to hold on to West Papua contains the solution to the problem. That reason is, quite simply, money. His answer is to set up a special trust fund to pay the military, so that they can be transformed into servants of the State. Over time these payments would gradually be reduced. With an expected three trillion extra rupiah ($300 million) promised to West Papua by new autonomy legislation, it sounds like a possible option. But would the Indonesian army really obey West Papuan orders? And what about more immediate funding priorities: roads, schools, houses and hospitals?

Leaders like Willy Mandowen are clearly trying to develop solutions more appropriate to their country than mere carbon copies of governance and administration from the developed world. They will need more time and assistance to develop these skills, which are so central to the capacity to govern. That this assistance is currency coming from transnational corporations highlights a worrying deficiency in the work of international non-governmental organizations.

As to the legacy for a new democracy, helped from birth by corporate sponsorship and assistance, only time will tell. I'm still unclear about BP's role here. The independence celebrations are over, and as I'm travelling to the airport to leave the country I pull out a copy of a letter I have in my bag. It's addressed to Indonesia's President Megawati Sukarnoputri, urging her to set up an impartial, independent investigation into Theys Eluay's death. It is signed by eight members of the US Congress. BP consultant Dennis Heffernan spent 20 years in US politics. I asked him if the help BP gives to West Papuans also extends to lobbying for a letter like this. 'It may,' he replied.