![](../../../../newsandletters.org/images/buttons/home-1.gif)
![](../../../../newsandletters.org/images/buttons/NL-News-1.gif)
![](../../../../newsandletters.org/images/buttons/Back_issues-1.gif)
![](../../../../newsandletters.org/images/buttons/NL-comm-1.gif)
![](../../../../newsandletters.org/images/buttons/Dialogues-1.gif)
![](../../../../newsandletters.org/images/buttons/Raya_Dunayevskaya-1.gif)
![](../../../../newsandletters.org/images/buttons/Literature-1.gif)
![](../../../../newsandletters.org/images/buttons/Contact_us-1.gif)
![](../../../../newsandletters.org/images/buttons/Search_NL-1.gif)
![](../../../../newsandletters.org/images/buttons/donation.gif)
| |
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
|
|