West Papua: Papuan Refugees Highlight Struggle for Independence
Along with one of his twin 2-year-old sons and more than 30 other people, he set off from the northern coast of Papua, the Indonesian province once called Irian Jaya, on the island of New Guinea. After six weeks under a blistering equatorial sun and with Pacific waves sloshing on board, they made it thousands of miles to Merauke, on the southern shore. There, they picked up his wife and other son and set out once again, in the dead of night, with little food and no compass.
Four days later, on Jan. 13, the group hit a reef near Mapoon, on the northwest coast of Cape York Peninsula, clambered ashore, and found that they had miraculously reached their destination, Australia, where a new drama began.
Asylum
Several weeks later, Australia, acting with surprising speed,
granted Wanggai, 32, and all his passengers, save one, political asylum. The
decision set off a diplomatic firestorm that has brought the issue of Papuan
independence to international attention, which is just what Wanggai and his
wife, Ferra Kambu, wanted.
In response, Indonesia recalled its ambassador from Australia and Indonesian
politicians have called for trade sanctions.
For Indonesia, the issue could not be more serious. An archipelago stretching
thousands of miles, the country has already faced two secessionist wars in recent
years, in Aceh and East Timor. The latter succeeded in breaking away.
Indonesian leaders do not want to repeat the episode with Papua, which holds
the biggest source of income for its government: the world's richest gold reserve.
As conflicts on Papua have flared - four people were killed in protests last
month - more and more churches and human rights groups in Australia, the United
States and Europe have lined up behind the cause of Papuan independence.
Though Australia does not support independence, the decision to grant asylum
meant that the authorities had concluded that the Papuans faced a "well-founded
fear of persecution" if they were returned to Indonesia.
In an effort to soothe relations with Indonesia, the government announced Thursday
that from now on Papuan refugees would be deported to places like the desolate
island of Nauru while their asylum claims were processed, which can take several
years.
The Indonesian government does not permit journalists to visit Papua without
special permission, which is rarely granted. Even diplomats are closely watched
when they visit the province, a European ambassador said recently.
Without access to Papua, it is almost impossible to assess the human rights
situation. The Indonesian police and military deny that there are any abuses;
the Papuan refugees in Australia speak of systematic persecution.
The U.S. government does not support independence, either. But in its annual
country-by-country human rights report, released last month, the State Department
cited incidents in which Indonesian soldiers had beaten, tortured and killed
suspected promoters of independence.
In one case, the report said, soldiers tortured a suspected secessionist "by
slashing his face and body with a knife and razor and then pouring petrol over
his head and setting his hair on fire."
The report also noted that the Indonesian government had made only "limited
progress in establishing accountability" for past human rights abuses committed
by the military and police.
It was because of persecution for their support of independence, Wanggai said,
that he had risked all and braved what his wife described as waves "as
high as mountains."
They also wanted to make a point, they said: that Papua, a wild, mountainous
and heavily forested land roughly the size of California and rich in natural
resources, does not rightfully belong to Indonesia.
Papua's population of about 2.5 million people is mostly Melanesian, and many
are Christian, converted after years of missionary work. Most Indonesians are
Javanese and Muslim.
"We are activists," said Wanggai, a one-time law student who has been
active in the independence movement for more than a decade. He has been jailed
twice, once for two years for flying the West Papuan independence flag.
Kambu, 36, the daughter of a tribal chief, has a bachelor's degree in sociology
and has been part of the movement since her university days. She described the
independence cause as a "nonviolent struggle."
Most of the others who fled with the couple were university students active
in the independence movement.
West Papuans' claims for independence reach back half a century. After World
War II, the Dutch gave Indonesia its independence, but because of its vast riches
kept Papua.
In 1963, to appease Indonesia's left- leaning dictator Sukarno, who was demanding
that West Papua be made part of Indonesia, President John F. Kennedy persuaded
the Dutch to agree to a UN- sponsored plebiscite, which was held in 1969.
The Papuan leaders voted to join Indonesia, but by nearly all accounts, including
those of people who do not support Papuan independence, the vote was manipulated
by the government in Jakarta.
Indonesia has made some concessions in recent years, agreeing to change the
name of the province from Irian Jaya to Papua, and to grant more autonomy, including
a greater share of the revenues from the province's riches, like a huge copper
and gold mine run by the American mining company Freeport-McMoRan.
But little of the promised autonomy has been delivered. The central government
has done little to improve the lives of Papuans, and health care and schooling
remain rudimentary.
For President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, who is highly regarded by the U.S. and
Australian governments for bringing stability to Indonesia, Papua is a critical
test.
On the other hand
On the one hand, he faces rising protests in Papua by an alienated
and increasingly organized independence movement that, as the Australian asylum
decision shows, is drawing greater international support.
On the other, he must satisfy strident nationalists at home, including senior
military commanders who are angry over a deal he made last year with secessionists
in Aceh Province that brought peace but gave the Acehnese considerable autonomy.
The commanders, who hold great sway in Indonesia, will not give the president
much room to maneuver on the Papuan issue, and some even favor a military solution,
which they pursued for years in Aceh at the cost of many lives.
The refugees in Wanggai's party said they had talked with their relatives back
in Papua and had been told that the Indonesian police had been questioning the
relatives to determine exactly who fled and why.
The "why" is clear to the refugees and those who support them, including
Peter Woods, the pastor of St. Andrew's Anglican Church in Somerville, about
65 kilometers, or 40 miles, south of Melbourne, who was a missionary in Papua
from 1978 to 1983. "The Papuans are treated as slaves of the Javanese,"
he said.
As the refugees and other worshipers walked out of St. Andrew's, they passed
a bulletin board with a poster on it that read, "West Papua: An Issue Whose
Time Has Come."
That is precisely what the Papuan refugees here hope, and what the Indonesian
government fears.