The Indonesian corps that can do no wrong

The Indonesian corps that can do no wrong

By Aboeprijadi Santoso

BANDA ACEH (JP): The mayhem occurring in Aceh, Irian Jaya and
the former Indonesian province of East Timor stems a great deal
from violence and oppression.

Economic exploitation aside, violence is seen as the identity
of the state the regions are supposed to belong to. With violence
continuing in Aceh and Irian Jaya, the Army has apparently not
learned much from its past discourse and the resulting trend of
disintegration.

Military officers are simply politicians and the corps remain
a political force -- a quasi-political party -- no matter what
they claim, as long as they refuse to accept the civilian
supremacy in a democratically elected government.

In Indonesia, the military politicians justify their discourse
by defining their corps' missions and changing interests from
time to time.

In the 1940s, as the people's armies helped end Dutch rule,
the Army posed as the agency who delivered the independence of
the nation. By the late 1950s, it managed to build some economic
bases. Next, when political polarization heightened and was
resolved in the mid-1960s, it claimed to have saved the nation
from communism.

Under the New Order, it built privileges as a self-proclaimed
sociopolitical force by imposing stability and claiming to be the
guarantor of progress and development.

Most problematic is its fourth mission, that is, to keep the
Republic, from Aceh to Irian Jaya, united. This has basically
failed since it was pursued by victimizing local societies, which
generated trends of disintegration.

That, however, did not occur earlier when the Army terminated
the Darul Islam and regional rebellions of the late 1950s. In
this respect as well as in the West Irian campaign in 1962-1963,
it performed a great service to the nation.

But things changed after the bloodbath in the mid-1960s
occurred. For the first time, the Army achieved its political
objective through mass violence -- partly an orchestrated civil
war -- that was generally condoned by the greater part of
society. Violence became "less problematic" if only because it
tended to be taken for granted.

In 1983, then president Soeharto instructed -- and the middle
classes again tolerated -- another "legitimate massacre", now of
petty criminals.

The cycle of violence continued with the occupation of East
Timor and the suppression of separatist rebellions in Aceh and
Irian Jaya, turning the regions increasingly restive. In East
Timor, it began in the mid-1970s and culminated in brutal wars in
the Ramelau mountains in the late-1970s and in last year's
mayhem.

In Aceh it also started in the mid-1970s, but escalated in
Pidie in the late 1980s and spread to all districts in recent
years. In Irian Jaya, military violence erupted following the
Manokwari rebellion in 1965, but intensified in the 1980s,
resulting in refugees and many other incidents. Roughly, more
than 200,000 people died in the three regions, mostly in East
Timor.

As Pandora's box was opened in 1998, it became clear that the
political maps had radically changed. In just a little over a
decade -- each region in a different period -- resistance
movements, with varying strengths and support, had taken root.

In East Timor, Fretilin with Falintil guerrillas were
sustained by a substantial part of local society almost since the
beginning (1974).

In Aceh, the Free Aceh Movement (GAM), with the Army of the
Free Aceh Movement (AGAM) guerrillas, did so only since 1998. And
in Irian Jaya, the Papua Presidium Council emerged from public
deliberations only last year as the Free Papua Movement (OPM)
guerrillas (founded in 1965) weakened and recognized the
leadership of the council's presidium.

For the first time since the Dutch broke resistance in Aceh,
Bali and Lombok a 100 years ago, serious challenges were emerging
in the regions.

Violence had kept the dynamics of disintegration moving --
rather than the other way around -- to ensure control of
resources. No local uprisings, however big, could permanently
provoke Jakarta's "security approach".

Brutality came from both sides of the conflict, but as the
encroaching military authorities intruded, public life and the
counterinsurgency actions deeply affected local societies, the
Army basically accelerated the process it claimed to prevent.
Partly driven by its own interests, it negated its claim as a
unifying force.

This is what makes Indonesia distinct from the Balkans, where
fragmentation and civil wars are rooted in a different history
and weapons are spread across the ethnic melting pot of Bosnia-
Herzegovina.

Seen from the regions, the New Order Army appeared as a
"killing machine". Joao de Jesus, an East Timorese student,
witnessed his father's slow death. "A Kopassus (the Army's
Special Force) soldier hit his stomach very quickly. That's a
skill to kill without a weapon!" he yelled in anger and disgust.

Many suffered even more through the war and inside "houses of
torture" and changed radically. East Timor's case basically
suggests that human sufferings, when accumulated, can become a
powerful political motive.

The case of Tengku Abdullah, a peasant of Pidie, is even more
telling. "I have been living for years in fear. I was afraid of
GPK (the government's reference for GAM). Then came ABRI (the
former name of the Indonesian Military). My life has since
changed. Each time an Army unit patrols, I run to the rice field
to hide." Like many villagers in Aceh, Tengku is tired of being
an internally displaced person.

Years of unrest and violence provoking sweeps mean that life
in Aceh cannot be lived normally and religious tasks and rituals
cannot be observed properly. Alleged rapes, lies and false
promises compound the issue. Even when GAM was involved in
extortion and manipulated some refugees, people like Tengku could
only recall the past with bitterness and dream of an "Aceh
without ABRI".

After 1998, the dream was quickly translated into aspirations
of independence. For many Acehnese, that seems to be the only way
to redress the pain and humiliation and to get justice and
freedom once and for all.

So they demand an East Timor-style referendum. With the
humanitarian pause agreed by the GAM rebels and Jakarta, both
sides have consolidated their positions. Yet to regain trust,
Jakarta will at least have to withdraw its nonorganic armed
units.

The fact that students took over GAM's demands may indicate
that Jakarta has lost much credit among the local civil society
and the grass roots mainstream.

In Irian Jaya as well, the burden of violence has been deeply
felt. However, only in Irian Jaya was there an occurrence of
refugees so massive, numbering in the tens of thousands, in the
early 1980s.

Lacking worldwide support, experienced guerrillas and a strong
civil society, Irian Jaya is a unique, peaceful and, perhaps,
patient model of self-determination.

The Papua Presidium Council has so far significantly halted
the activities of local guerrillas and embarked on a peaceful
dialog with Jakarta, although this has largely gone unnoticed.

Based on the Papua People's Congress last May, it sets out to
rectify history -- the dubious UN plebiscite of 1969 -- in an
attempt to build a new platform to demand the Act of Free Choice.

Unfortunately, President Abdurrahman Wahid's honeymoon with
Irianese leaders has apparently ended. Under pressure from the
Army, he has backtracked and banned the Morning Star flag.

"We feel like we have been cheated. We are disappointed, but
the people are determined to fly our flag," Theys Eluay, the
Irianese leader, said.

After years of repression and discrimination, arrogance has
slapped the symbol that expresses Irianese consciousness.

Instead of Balkanization analogy, lessons should be learned
from the Army's discourse in the three regions. While B.J.
Habibie began a democratic reform that included a breakthrough
for East Timor, he let the military remain fully intact; whereas
Abdurrahman, having started military reform, is challenged,
partly for that reason, by the Army and some civilian
politicians.

More fundamentally, the military remains dogmatically obsessed
with the paramount importance of unity rather than diversity;
with the values of the state rather than respecting those of
various societies; with its missions rather than with people's
lives; and with territorial integrity rather than human dignity
of those affected.

National interests have gone beyond and against societies'
needs and interests.

The unquestioned paradigm encourages centrifugal trends. Any
of the Army's alleged wrongdoings have either been reduced to
acts of a few "rogue elements", suggesting that the line of
command remains effective, or to an irrelevant truism that not
all of its members are bad, implying that only human factors
matter.

Above all, impunity continues despite its past human rights
records. Inevitably, the message seems to be that the corps can
do no wrong. And that creates a deep and painful sense of
injustice for the regions.

Meanwhile, the bloody events in Wamena last October and around
Banda Aceh on Nov. 10, pointedly suggest that the high-handed
approach is back again.

Besieged by their own crisis, the security administration it
seems, has reasserted itself, making the government appear like
an iron fist in a velvet glove, making the problems even worse
for the third millennium.

The writer is a journalist. He visited the three regions in
recent years.