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Papuan special autonomy:
From solution to source of continued disempowerment
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By Charles Reading
Darwin, December 1: In the Eastern most provinces of Indonesia,
the 1st of December has come to symbolize a day where those calling for
a separate Papuan state take to the streets and make their voices heard.
This date holds historical significance as on 1st December 1962, the Dutch
allowed the Papuan Bintang Kejora (morning star) to fly next to their
own flag as a step to preparing Papua for independence.
Instead of independence, however, the eastern half of the second largest
island in the world, New Guinea, was annexed by Indonesia in a controversial
referendum seven years later.
The 1st of December has since become a focal point for Papuan resentment
towards the Indonesian state.
This 1st December, like some many others, is expected to be remembered
with demonstrations, flag raisings and nervous police ambiguously applying
the law in the name of state security.
However, while parties on both sides of the divide rally in the name of
an ethnic Papuan nationalist cause or in defence of a civic Indonesian
nationalism, this talk of nationalisms, states and ideologies, distracts
us from the picture of everyday social, political and economic disempowerment
that, while fuelling protests against the Indonesian state and its regulations,
is too often ignored.
The Otonomi Khusus (Special Autonomy law, known colloquially as otsus)
of 2001 aimed to address the structural problems faced by Papuans.
However, 8 years on, the opinion of an increasing number of Papuans is
that it has failed to deliver. Indeed, those recently arrested for raising
the Morning Star flag (an act illegal and punishable with up to 15 years
according to Indonesian Presidential Regulation 77/2008 banning separatist
symbols) on 16th November in Jayapura, were handing out flyers claiming
that otsus has failed.
Otsus has therefore moved from a solution to the deprivation faced by
many in Papua, to the issue at the heart of disillusionment.
Yet, instead of silencing the voices that speak out against it, we must
ask how it has failed to deliver on its promises.
When otsus was first implemented, Papuans hope it would concentrate on
developing Papua, relieving poverty, giving Papuans demographic and cultural
representation in their own politics, and addressing the historical human
rights atrocities of the Suharto New Order era. Its scope covered many
of the demands made by the Papua Presidium Council in the early years
of Indonesias reformation (with the obvious exception of independence).
Yet, almost immediately, its impact was hampered by a neglect of the process
in which it was to be implemented as well as a reluctance of the security
forces to change their state centric security ideology.
Although otsus has increased the amount of funds the provincial governments
receive from Jakarta is estimated at Rp 20 trillion, or US $1.7 billion,
a year, more than any other region in the country, the two provinces of
West Papua are still listed as the poorest in the country.
According to the World Bank and Indonesian Central Board of Statistics
37 percent of the population live below the poverty line.
Without adequate regulation of fund allocation, it is likely money is
increasingly lost in political pockets or ends up in Indonesias
notoriously corrupt construction industry assigned to build up Papua infrastructure.
The current Papuan provincial governor, Barnabas Suebu, has managed to
distribute some of the wealth to the village level through his Rural Development
Strategic Program (RESPEK), although the usefulness and transparency of
handing out lump sums to village heads is questionable instead of any
meaningful development of education or health facilities.
Otsus also requires cultural and political representation of indigenous
Papuans through the creation of the Majelis Rakyat Papua (Papuan Peoples
Council) and 11 reserved seats for indigenous Papuans in the Dewan Perwakilan
Rakyat Papua (Papuan provincial parliament).
Yet, the actual impact or ability to promote cultural laws by the Papuan
Peoples Council has been problematic and on October 29th,, to commemorate
the 4th anniversary of the council, students protested in Jayapura against
its ineffectiveness and demanded it be disbanded for doing virtually nothing
to further empower Papuans in social, economic and political representations.
So far,, otsus has been incapable of becoming a vehicle for Papuan political
empowerment.
According to the law titled Unity and Reconciliation number V/2000
passed by the national parliaments upper house, a truth and reconciliation
commission was to be set up in order to examine past human rights abuses
by the Indonesian security forces throughout the region (as well as other
regions throughout the archipelago).
Yet, to date this has not occurred and the military and police remain
covered in a cloak of impunity.
With no checks and balances or self criticism by the Indonesian security
forces, Papuans are vulnerable to extortion and an abuse of power by underpaid
soldiers and police personnel.
The recent statement on 12 November by Army Chief of Staff Lt. Gen. George
Toisutta that a new military command will be set up in West Papua province
(previously under the command of the Cenderawasih regional command in
Papua province), inevitably will lead to an increase in troops stationed
in remote areas who are able to abuse their power and cause misery for
many ordinary people.
Yet, perhaps what is most disparaging about the last 8 years is that,
despite a huge flow of funds into Papua, little educational and health
infrastructure has been created.
This is despite annual promises by the governor to grant free access to
both these primary services.
Children living in rural areas (and even parts of Jayapura) often attend
understaffed schools that lack basic infrastructure including electricity.
Meanwhile, access to basic medicines and treatment is difficult at best
with hospitals being subject to frequent power cuts, a lack of doctors
and a lack of up in date medicine.
A lack of health education is prevalent with HIV/AIDS becoming a problem
amongst the indigenous Papuan population. Provincial government approaches
to HIV/AIDS do little to educate people appropriately to its danger.
Their plan, in November 2008, to install microchips in all HIV/AIDS sufferers
so their movements could be tracked increases HIV/AIDS stigmatization
and is not treatment focussed. (This plan was later abandoned for its
ridiculousness)
These are just some of the issues facing the people of Papua and thus,
this December 1st, we should perhaps look beyond state-centric and historic
debates revolving around Papuan independence or Indonesian security ideology,
to see the real challenges faced in the region.
The real question now is how to promote open and honest dialogue that
would allow the people of Papua to partake in the future of their homeland
and, rather than romanticizing or denouncing agencies of resistance, we
should look at the everyday structures that lead to economic, social and
political disempowerment of an indigenous population, that acts as a catalyst
for people to take to the streets in the first place.
The Southeast
Asian Times
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