April 2001

West Papua freedom struggle: 'One People, One Soul'

Since the Indonesian takeover in 1964, nearly half of West Papua's indigenous population has been eradicated under one of the most brutal military dictatorships in history. The name Suharto is associated with the massive killings and atrocities in East Timor. Yet seldom is the story of the "Last Great Frontier" (as NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC once referred to Irian Jaya/West Papua) brought to light. Why? Perhaps the answer lies in the fact that West Papuans retain an entirely distinctive culture and ethnicity from that of their most recent colonizers.

They are a Melanesian people, the very name "Papuan" referring to their "curly-haired" negroid appearance which the first Portuguese settlers likened to the people of Guinea in Africa. Viewed by the world at large as a primitive, savage group of more than 700 distinct tribes, they have faced virtual genocide by a regime hell-bent on prospering from the region's rich natural resources. Entire tribes have been wiped out or have simply "vanished," while Indonesian and Western perpetrators have gleaned prosperity and profit through policies of deforestation, transmigration, and what can be seen as a careless, inhumane indifference toward ancestral and traditional rights.

And yet the West Papuans have never given up their dreams of full independence. They will settle for nothing less, even in the face of death. Here then is a recent tale of dreadfully typical injustices faced by West Papua's new generation. I refer to the students and activists who have given their all to preserve not only their culture and an independent future, but the very existence of a nation known as "One People, One Soul."

STUDENTS IN STRUGGLE

On Dec. 1, 2000, university students from the Indonesian province of West Papua/Irian Jaya honored their families, forefathers and homeland by attending an independence rally outside the Dutch and American embassies in the capitol town Jayapura. In an act symbolic of national integrity and solidarity, they raised the Bintang Kejora, or Morning Star Flag, to mark the 1964 anniversary of West Papua's questionable transfer from Dutch control to Indonesian control. This task was acomplished through passage of the U.N.-sanctioned referendum: "The Act of Free Choice." The Papuans have since referred to this plebescite as "The Act Free of Choice," or "The Act of No Choice."

As reported by the National Front of West Papuan Students (NF-WEPS), Josep Wenda, Mathius Rumbrapuk, Hans Gobay, Luan Wenda, Piet Morin, and Adolf Rumaropen--all youths from various regional universities--brought pamphlets to disperse, performed the traditional dance "Yosimpancar" and waved the Morning Star Flag. Although they were demonstrating and celebrating on what was designated a "peace area" by the American ambassador to Jakarta, the Indonesian police ordered the students to cease all activities at once. Rubber bullets were shot at random. The police fired tear gas, and began kicking the demonstrators and striking at unprotected heads and bodies with heavy sticks and guns.

Many escaped, but for those named, the ongoing cycle of brutatilty that has plagued this nation under Suharto's barbaric dictatorship would once again resurface. The seven youths were taken into police custody in the Central Police station of Jakarta and interrogated for 24 hours without medical attention, food, or water.

Three students managed to "make easy on the interrogations" by pledging devotion to Indonesia and in the process, fully submerging their Melanesian "Negroid Papuan" ethnicity/heritage. Late that evening on Dec. 1, the four remaining student activists, led by Mathius Rumbrapuk--from Salatiga Central Java--chose to remain "constant" to their homeland and refused to pledge allegiance to Indonesia. As a result, the police charged them with subversive activities. Like many of their predecessors, the students were to be used as witnesses for punishment--for the sake of "public regularity."

POLICE REPRESSION

The students faced a minimum of 60 days in jail. The police subjected them to racial degradation tactics and threats. Mathius, Josep, Hans, and Luan became dehydrated and were starving. No health services were provided for the so-called "extremists" and separatist "rebels." Their families and friends were denied visitation "privileges." No outside food or communication was permitted. Mathius suffered injuries on his right leg. Josep's right ear was also seriously injured from the initial police assault.

On Dec. 22, Mathius was taken to the Jakarta Police Medical Center, where he remained for one week. NF-WEPS installed a "Wok" team to observe and monitor any care brought to "Brother" Mathius while he was incarcerated at the Medical Center. The team carefully noted that he was given only one injection during those seven days at the infirmary, and he received virtually no follow-up medical care. Finally, with the help of several NGOs, the Wok team managed to reason with some officials, and Mathius received medicine. It was by no means enough to cure any infection or damage already sustained.

The students were transported to Salemba prison in Jakarta on Feb. 2. On Mar. 15 they appeared before the Central Jakarta district court. According to TAPOL, the Indonesia Human Rights Campaign, the students were pale and obviously suffering from "the psychological effects of continuous confinement, interrogations, and possibly torture." Mathius appeared on crutches. Hans' ear infection persists and he is said to be almost totally deaf. The four faced the charge of "rebellion" under Article 106 of the criminal code (maximum penalty: life in prison) as well as "hate sowing" charges under the same criminal articles. At the time of this writing, complete details of the students' indictment have not been released to media reporting from within West Papua/Irian Jaya.

While their fates remain uncertain, this much can be asserted: the four Papuan students are lucky they are alive. Four other student demonstrators were killed in a subsequent protest last December. Hundreds of others were arrested and tortured. One student died a slow and agonizing death before the eyes of Swiss journalist Oswald Iten, who was arrested and thrown in the same cell for recording events while staying in West Papua on a tourist visa. Iten has since written an account detailing his eight days of imprisonment, during which his now-deceased Papuan cellmate's head was bashed into prison bars like a "golf ball."

For most students of the world, the right to speak out is par for the course. But for the students of West Papua, to do so can mean death. The students of West Papua, along with their fellow freedom seekers in Aceh, ask for outside support. They hope their plight is mentioned as the United Nations Human Rights Commission now begins its annual session in Geneva.

Ironically, what most indigenous or native inhabitants have wanted from the beginning was simply to be left alone and in peace. In today's world, such a wish is perhaps superfluous or idealistic at best. But should the right to govern one's nation be left to the powers that be, or to those who have proven they will fight until virtually the last drop of blood has been shed?

--j. jonas