Minahasa: A subdued warior rise again

Froly Lelengboto Horn, Contributor, Manado, North Sulawesi

That frightening clunking of wheels released for touchdown jerked me out of a stupor.

Through the window of the tilting airplane, the poetic appellation Tanah Nyiur Melambai (the land of waving coconut trees) definitely seemed like an understatement.

Millions of coconut trees along the coast and inland form an exotic velvety carpet in the unseen breeze, among which houses seem like unnecessary trespassers here and there, except for the huge cluster of buildings dominating Manado City.

Manado City belongs to all peoples of North Sulawesi. However, the Minahasa people, being the majority in number and in influence, have always been identified with this ancient city which was originally called Wenang.

From my vantage point I could make out the huge gold letters along the top of the airport's main building: SAM RATULANGI, the name of one of Minahasa's favorite sons and Indonesia's first doctor of mathematics, who along with the duo of Sukarno and Mohamad Hatta and other political leaders helped define the nation of Indonesia.

"Have the descendants of To'ar and Lumimu'ut awakened to their cultural heritage yet?" was the thought that burgeoned in my consciousness as I proceeded to the baggage claim area like Alice in Wonderland.

Three years ago I had to fight my way in a tiny room of a make-do airport. Arrivals and their welcomers swarmed chaotically around the baggage conveyor belt, sweating like their favorite thoroughbred in an anxious pre-race wait.

Now, the transformation is obvious. Vast, playful spaciousness is the ambience successfully created by the almost asymmetrical walls. Along those walls are glass mosaic windows, adding to the refreshing impression with a banquet of colors -- sea blue as backdrop -- depicting the ancient legends of the once proud warrior-people.

The present baggage area is a huge airy lounge -- big green pot plants breaking the whiteness all round -- filled with expectant porters. A long automatic glass door separated the baggage reclaim area and the arrival lounge, or shall I say arrival terrace, as it leads down directly on to a beautifully landscaped parking area that flaunts all sorts of tropical plants sprawled beneath the swaying shades of luscious coconut trees.

Compared to porters in other airports around Indonesia, these ones convey unusual confidence and a sense of having a right to be there. They are right there in your face.

"Where can I find a trolley?" I queried one of them.

The amicably faced young man smiled widely as only an equal would: "There is no trolley, Madam. That's why we are here."

Here is probably the only international airport in the world where no trolley is available.

That's the inside. From the outside, the building -- its tall round pillars the dominant external features -- is a 21st century interpretation of the Minahasa traditional rumah tinggi (literally tall house, or house on poles). A gigantic one, that is.

Although the traditional house is customarily made of wood, this one is of solid concrete painted in a sophisticated white.

It was a good sign indeed, and I gave a long hopeful sigh.

The name "Minahasa" derives from the word Mina Esa, which literally means "Many as One". Altogether, there are nine main tribes of Minahasa -- Tontemboan, Tombulu, Tonsea, Tolour, Tonsawang, Pasangwangko, Ponosakan, Bantik, and Siaw -- who made a covenant of unity with each other at Watu Pinabetengan (a megalithic stone at a place called Pinabetengan) in 1642.

However, Minahasans believe that the historic stone was the place where originally the nine ancestral chiefs had met before they went their separate ways all over the land of the Minahasa. Archeological estimations put the stone as around 3000-5000 years old.

And so with the "Many as One" concept being also so entrenched in Indonesia's genetic code at its conception, Minahasa decided to put her future in the Republic of Indonesia. Despite persistent attempts at political usurpation against the nation's ethos throughout the years, Minahasa stands firm as a part of Indonesia.

But for 30-odd years, at least, this people was taken for a walk on a desert path that led to nowhere, drained of its resources. Their land, once boasting cloves and coconuts, bowed to the humiliating reality of economic and social retardation.

A people who had sent many pioneering teachers to other islands throughout the archipelago to educate the nation's children now mourned the loss of cultural dignity.

From about 50 years ago, its languages had ceased to be included in the school curriculum. It is not an exaggeration to say that most descendants of To'ar and Lumimu'ut are foreigners to their own languages, culture and history.

Nevertheless, the tide is changing. Like the warrior sculpted on the mosaic windows, the fighting spirit of the people has started to stir once again above the tumultuous paradigm shift in the country's political make-up.

In 1998, amid the nation's economic and political upheaval, the Minahasa people were rudely awakened by the reality of the sorry state of their beloved land and people. In 2001, the government implemented regional autonomy, a golden chance that proved the impetus for a new start for many ethnic groups in this country.

For once, the Minahasa people have finally dared to look to the past to find -- at least, begin to find -- their identity to move forward in the future. Part of their precious heritage is democracy, albeit in its simplest meaning.

In ancient times, a leader was never chosen or appointed by default or by birth. Instead he or she was chosen by the people through a democratic deliberation process. Aristocracy has never been a legacy for the Minahasans; they have an egalitarian world view. All people -- male and female, poor and rich, educated and uneducated -- stand equal before the Almighty and in their own eyes.

The democratic heritage is slowly being resurrected and reactivated not only in appointing their governing leaders, but also in the way governmental and private institutions are run. By all means, it's a start.

A resurgence of interest in their languages is gaining momentum. The old knowledge of literature and legends are starting to come forth from the mouths of village elders and those who are fortunate enough to receive it from their parents. Dilapidated history books handed down throughout generations are now either being rewritten or reprinted.

In a province where the overwhelming majority of the people are Christian, the Bible is now in the process of being translated in the four main languages of Minahasa: Tontembuan, Tombulu, Toulour and Tonsea.

Arising like a cleansing wind is the move from ecologists and environmental experts to fight back the deadly pollution on sea and land caused by unthinking capitalistic efforts, such as gold- mining and logging.

On the other hand, the environmental danger signals have given a new holistic outlook to those revamping the regional economy. It's a view that understands that long-term corporate negligence in defiling the environment results in colossal social, health and economic loss.

The average Minahasan is an intensely patriotic Indonesian. The patriotism is obviously rooted in the fact that their fathers fought with the rest of Indonesia for independence, their active participation helping shape the nature and direction of the republic.

But one of the causes of such patriotism is the strong belief -- an ideal, perhaps -- that Indonesia was, is and will always be a pluralistic nation where a people like the Minahasa can exist in freedom, living side by side with other ethnic groups in the archipelago.

Whether or not this belief will match reality is yet to be seen.

Today, the Minahasa people are awake and moving forward, as told by that spanking new airport standing in the brilliant sun, surrounded by ancient blue ranges.

Hopefully, the warrior will never again return to its slumber.