Fragile peace revealed
The clashes that have shaken Ambon over the past two days reveal the fragility of the peace that prevailed in the city after the Malino talks in February 2002. The signing of the government-sponsored Malino II peace pact brought to an end three years of bloody sectarian violence, sparked in January 1999 by a seemingly harmless spat between residents.
They also serve to alert us to the fact that the ominous shadow of that earlier conflict still hangs menacingly over Maluku's provincial capital -- and indeed, over the province itself and over other conflict-prone areas such as Poso in Central Sulawesi. No less regrettably, they also demonstrate that official assurances of the government's readiness to quell any disorders, anywhere and any time, must be taken with a proverbial pinch of salt.
As far as is known, this most recent incident began when supporters of the South Maluku Republic (RMS), a separatist organization banned by the government, were attacked by a posse of vigilantes who called themselves Supporters of the Unitary Republic of Indonesia (NKRI). The NKRI supporters were ostensibly on their way home after being questioned by police about their commemoration of the organization's anniversary. Given the fact that the officials were obviously well aware of the RMS' intention to celebrate their anniversary on Sunday, their failure to prevent violence on that occasion is regrettable indeed.
To refresh our memories, the January 1999 conflagration was set ablaze by a seemingly innocent little dispute between a local minibus driver and a passenger over the transportation fare. It widened in scope as the government failed to act swiftly and decisively and more and more people became embroiled in the conflict. Ultimately, Christians were pitted against Muslims and locals against settlers. Thousands of people lost their lives in the three-year discord. In other words, the conflict was allowed to expand from a simple argument between residents to wholesale warfare between groups exploiting the people's most basic instincts, such as religion and ethnicity. No wonder it took such an enormous amount of time, skill and effort to end the discord.
Apparently, having learned its lesson, the government appears better prepared to face the present unrest in Maluku. Troops and police reinforcements have been dispatched to Ambon. Still, by the latest count, at least 21 people have died over the past two days because of the fighting and more than 170 have been injured. Order appears to have been largely restored, although normalcy has yet to return. Nevertheless, the danger of further flare-ups in the future is far from imaginary unless the government moves quickly to enhance the existing social-political conditions in the troubled area.
The government's transmigration -- or resettlement -- programs aside, the increased mobility of people that has come with the country's improved infrastructure over the past decades has brought with it shifts in the demographic setup of certain regions in Indonesia that, in their turn, have led to friction between the local population and settlers from other regions in the country. More often than not, socio-economic factors can be found underlying those frictions, although they may express themselves in disharmony of a sectarian nature. Indonesia being a unitary state, its citizens, of course, are free to travel, settle and work wherever they like. It is the thankless job of the government, assisted by the informal leaders of the community, to ensure that peace, order and harmony are maintained, for the good of all.
As for the situation in Ambon -- or Maluku in general, or indeed any other conflict area in this country -- the government's immediate job is to see to it that the present conflict in Ambon does not expand and widen once again and turn into a sectarian struggle. If that was allowed to happen, it would be once again the millions of people in that hapless province who would suffer, and the good work of all those who have so tirelessly worked for peace in the area would have been in vain.