Taking the war in stride as an embedded journalist

Taking the war in stride as an embedded journalist

Tiarma Siboro, The Jakarta Post, Jakarta

Embedded journalists, what are they really good for? Can they
be expected to be objective when their life is dependent on the
very same people they are reporting about?

Some cynics, including other journalists, deliberately
mispronounced it as "in bed" with the military.

It had never crossed my mind that the Indonesian Military
(TNI) would let civilian reporters "monitor" their massive
military operation in Aceh until I was assigned to basic
training.

Dressed in military fatigues and having to listen to barked
orders during the four-day training before setting out for Aceh,
I got to feel what it was like to be in the "boots" of the
soldiers.

Thankfully, there was no deliberate attempt at brainwashing to
the military's cause during the four-day training at the Army
Strategic Reserves Command (Kostrad) at Sanggabuana Military
training camp in Karawang, West Java. It would not have worked
anyway.

The training was intended to get us in shape for tracking
through deep jungle and remote hilly areas that are the
battlegrounds of the war. For most of us, usually either stuck
behind a desk writing stories and grabbing meals on the run, our
trip to boot camp was much needed.

My first thoughts when I heard of the military operation
taking effect on May 19 was whether the government would repeat
the same mistakes of the 10-year military operation in 1989-1999,
widely known as DOM, to quell the same separatist group, the Free
Aceh Movement (GAM).

I also worried that it would be impossible for us to provide
balanced reports, and uphold the sacred tenet of the journalistic
code of ethics.

However, as soon as I arrived in Aceh after finishing the
military training, I made a new, quite shocking realization: We
journalists were also a target of GAM.

The separatist guerrillas were on the lookout for journalists
embedded with the TNI, for they suspected we were there to
champion the military's successes and tarnish their name.

I was also shocked to find out that GAM had a list of names of
the 54 journalists in the first batch sent to Aceh.

Some colleagues who reportedly ran into rebels were forced to
disclose the names of other embedded journalists.

Other journalists who were already stationed in Aceh and were
not part of the training program kept their distance from us.

But the rebels and my fellow journalists could not be blamed.
I came to understand the situation. As part of the embedded
program, I gained benefits that were different from ordinary
journalists, including physical protection during gunfights.

Some officers and soldiers also felt freer to discuss the
whole operation strategy, including the position of their camps
in remote areas, with us than with the other reporters.

We were even allowed to visit the camps and if we wanted too,
we could stay overnight. The soldiers were assigned to pick us
from our "barracks" located near the military's operation command
headquarters in North Aceh's Lhokseumawe should we wish to join
in the risky military raids on GAM bases.

But questions filled in my head: What am I doing here? Am I
here just to cover the number of casualties during armed clashes
between Indonesian soldiers and GAM rebels? Do I have the heart
to see people killing each other on the battlefield? And if I
don't, how could I meet Acehnese living in the villages by myself
when GAM members were reportedly after us?

For the first three days after my arrival in Aceh, I didn't
know what should I be doing there. It was a real war, with all
the violence and casualties, with civilians inevitably the
greatest victims.

People would hurry into their houses each time the military
troops entered their villages in search of GAM rebels, apparently
still traumatized by past abuses.

Once I took part in a military patrol to a hamlet in Simpang
KKA area in North Aceh during which soldiers supplied logistics
for troops stationed on the front line.

Villagers trembled upon seeing dozens of crew-cut soldiers in
their military fatigues jumping down from their trucks.

Since I was part of the convoy but was dressed in civilian
clothes, I thought I should try to calm them and tell them we
meant no harm.

I didn't know what exactly these villagers thought about me,
but later on they trusted me enough to confide that they were
tortured by other groups of soldiers recently. The soldiers were
involved in a gunfight with GAM members and had thought that they
were in hiding and aided by the villagers.

After we told the commander about the complaint, he took steps
to request an apology and even donated army supplies to the
villagers.

Since the military could not give an assurance of safety for
journalists other than during their military operations, I
decided to contact GAM commander overseeing North Aceh Abu
Jamaika to request the rebels not launch a sweep for us.

My action of contacting him does not mean that I don't have a
sense of nationalism and love my country. Far from it, but I also
want the media to be able to make unfettered reports, before
there is too much bloodshed, lives lost in vain or human rights
abuses.

I saw for myself how people opened up to us in the villages,
telling us their grievances. I think it's unfortunate that the
same opportunity was not available to reporters during the East
Timor mayhem.

Some of our colleagues were on hand for a joint operation of
the Rajawali and the Cakra team from the Army's Special Force
(Kopassus). The raid took place at Peureulak village in North
Aceh. Seven people, all confirmed members of GAM according to the
military, were gunned down but unfortunately there was a 78-year-
old farmer who was also caught in the crossfire.

His wife cried as his body was pulled from the river, and the
hundreds of thousands of rupiah donated by the troops could not
assuage her grief.

If there were no journalists around, people would not have
read about the one civilian victim among the rebel toll.

Every life counts, whether it is for the military, GAM or for
us.

The military operation is ongoing, I am now back in Jakarta
and other journalists are embedded with the military. I hope that
people will realize that they are there to do their job and doing
their best to maintain their journalistic ethics.

And, in doing so, by reporting on this conflict, they are also
putting the story of the people first. When all is said and done,
that is what counts.