Madurese refugees recount sad stories of the clashes
By Ainur R. Sophiaan
BANGKALAN, Madura, East Java (JP): Tadjul Anwar never thought that a brawl among youths in the district of Sanggau Ledo, Sambas regency, would rapidly deteriorate into bigger clashes that would kill many people and force him and other Madurese out of West Kalimantan.
At first, 31-year-old Anwar, an ustadz (teacher) at the Raudhatus Sholihin Islamic boarding school, thought things would return to normal as his own father-in-law, Shalihuddin, was among the Madurese leaders invited to sign a truce with the leaders of the native Dayaks.
"It was signed in front of the local military officials. But before we had the chance to tell residents about the truce, mobs of Dayaks came down the mountain and started to attack us," he told The Jakarta Post here earlier this week.
On Jan. 1, Tadjul, his wife, two children and his parents-in- law had to flee their home, along with hundreds of other Madurese, and seek shelter in Singkawang, some 70 kilometers away.
A week later, Tadjul took a furtive trip alone back to Sanggau Ledo only to find his and most other houses belonging to the Madurese in shambles. Not to be discouraged, Tadjul led the few people remaining to their local mushala for prayer.
Then he found out that a group of Dayaks were hunting for his father-in-law. Armed with traditional lantak weapons and cans of gasoline, the Dayaks mounted a manhunt for the Madurese leader. They only stopped after some people told them that Shalihuddin was being protected by a great number of Madurese.
"The Dayaks were being watched and accompanied by a number of military officials, who could do nothing to stop them," Tadjul said.
Tadjul was fortunate to still be alive. But he had to watch, from afar, as the Dayaks vented their rage by setting his house on fire. "I had to watch them burn not only my house, but my books, most of which were gifts from my brother in Medina," said Tadjul, his eyes filled with unshed tears.
Tadjul and three other Madurese then hid in the woods for more than three days before seeking protection at a local military station.
Tadjul said Dayak attacks took place every day, usually at noon. "Hundreds of Dayaks would come down at a time. They seemed to have known well in advance which house to attack, like they had a list of targets. What was left were mosques and Islamic schools."
At the military station, he was told by a soldier that the commanding officer would not issue a shoot-on-sight order, despite the violence, for fear of committing a "procedural mistake".
"Not even a warning shot was fired. The Armed Forces members only stood and watched the Dayaks attack our houses. We, the Madurese, were told to stay put and not retaliate.
"But how could this be? If we're attacked, we had to defend ourselves," Tadjul said.
Tadjul chose to escape and brought his family to the capital of Pontianak, some 260 km away.
Tadjul said he did not know how many Madurese had been killed in the widespread violence, but he believed there were "many". "I saw dead bodies lying on the road when I escaped," he said.
Tadjul acknowledged that many Madurese were financially better off than the Dayaks because of the former's skill in trading. However, he added, "We used to have a good relationship with our Dayak neighbors, especially those who converted to Islam. When violence broke out, our good neighbors turned their backs on us and chose not to see what was happening to us out of fear of the other Dayaks," he said.
Tadjul and some 300 other Madurese then decided to leave West Kalimantan and return to their hometown of Prancak village, Sepulu district, Bangkalan, some 70 km north of Surabaya, the capital of East Java. "We have nothing left. All of our belongings were burned by the Dayaks," he said.
Tadjul said he was sad not only because the military had failed to help the Madurese or contain the violence, but also because the provincial office of the Ministry of Social Services in Pontianak refused to help the refugees. "We returned to Madura on a ship with no help from the office at all," he said.
Looking back, Tadjul said the violence seemed to be choreographed. "The attacks were well planned and on target," he said.
The youth who started the brawl and stabbed two Dayak youths during the dangdut show late December was not even Madurese, Tadjul insisted. The youth was a Malay adopted by a Madurese family. But during the first truce, the Dayak family whose son was wounded in the brawl promised they would not seek revenge.
Widespread
Zainul Amin, 28 years old, was an Arabic teacher at the Miftachul Ulum Islamic boarding school in Jirak village, Samalantan district, West Kalimantan, some 80 km away from Sanggau Ledo.
"I never thought the violence could spread to my area," he said. Zainul, his wife and a child, were among the hundreds of Madurese who fled Samalantan to Singkawang before leaving for Madura. Like Tadjul, Zainul came to West Kalimantan in 1990 to teach. "I'll never return there again. There's no guarantee we will ever be safe. The place is too prone to unrest."
One of the sights that Zainul found difficult to forget was the dead bodies lying on the roads as he and the other Madurese made their escape. "I didn't know the Dayaks had intended to eliminate us all," he said.