Category: syndication

A Food Project Invasion in West Papua: Merauke Integrated Food and Energy Estate (MIFEE)

http://www.wri-irg.org/node/12386

War Profiteer of the Month:

Merauke Integrated Food & Energy Estate (MIFEE)

– A Food Project Invasion in West Papua

18 Mar 2011 — javier

Rosa Moiwend

Background

Papua is the western half of New Guinea, the world’s second largest island, located about 200 km from the north of Australia. When the Dutch colonised this territory, it called it Dutch New Guinea. The name of this territory has changed over time according to its political status. The Papuan political leaders then changed the name of Dutch New Guinea to West Papua when they prepared for the self-government of this territory in 1961. As soon as the Dutch left in 1962, Indonesia took over the territory, and then West Papua became one of the Indonesian provinces, called Irian Jaya. In 1999, the demand for independence from Papuans increased. In 2001 the Indonesian government granted a Special Autonomy status for Papua under law number 21, and accepted the original name of Papua. Yet, the autonomous status does not mean self-government. All development policies are still under the control of Jakarta, including the policy over investment in natural resources. Moreover, Papua is the only province of Indonesia which it is still identified as a conflict zone under the national defence policy after East Timor became an independent country in 1999 and after Acheh Province signed a Peace Agreement in 2008.

After nine years of Special Autonomy, Papuans realised that this status does not provide significant changes in many aspects of their life. Moreover, the Indonesian government controls the regulation of investment in natural resources by opening easy access for multinational companies to exploit the abundant minerals and forests. Some multinational corporations such as Freeport McMoran, a US giant mining company, plan long-term investment and spend huge amounts of money on security using Indonesian military from the Special Forces (Kopassus) and police. The UK/US company BP and some Korean and Chinese companies, are on the list of investors as well. The Indonesian government through its programme to save energy and deal with the world food crisis plans to open up a massive area of land in the southern part of Papua with a mega-project on food and bio-energy called MIFEE (Merauke Integrated Food and Energy Estate). Since the demand for independence and the various demands for indigenous people’s rights cause opposition to the investors, the government uses a military approach as the only way to stop the conflict. After Freeport McMoran, MIFEE would be the next disaster for Papua. This article will portray a small part of the struggle over Food and Bio Energy project in Papua.

Malind, one of the indigenous communities in Merauke

Merauke is the southern part of Papua, covered by swampy forest with many rivers flowing down, mixed with massive savannah. The ecosystem in this region is unique. According to WWF, Merauke is one of the important places in the New Guinea Trans Fly Eco-region with its abundant bio-diversity.

Local tribes who have been living in the region are the Malind, Muyu and Mandobo, as well as Mappi and Auyu. The Malin tribe is one of the tribes most affected by the Food and Energy project. Some missionaries and anthropologists such as EB Savage from London Missionary Society, AC Haddon and Van Baal from the Netherlands, wrote in the early of 19th century about the Malind people in the region1. Malind people identify themselves according to their Dema (ancestors). They believe that some places in Merauke are sacred, as Demas had visited that place on their journey. More than that, they believe that ancestors live there so they should protect that place and give their respect to it. If they disobey, they will get a customary sanction which bring bad things in their lives. These beliefs are transferred from generation to generation. Malind recognised each other according to the symbols of clans. There are six big clans with their own symbols; Gebze with coconut, Mahuze with the sagoo palm, Basik with a pig, Samkakai with a kangaroo, Kaize with a cassowary and Balagaise with a falcon bird. These symbols integrated with the customary rules that control and influence their lives. Losing one of the symbols in nature means losing their identity.

Malind people have their own mechanism for using their natural resources. Each clan has its own customary territory that functions as a hunting place, for gardening, as a fishing ground, and to settle. Each place has a boundary that doesn’tt appear on the government map of land rights. All explanations and knowledge of customary matters are found in their customary law. If the sacred places and boundaries are lost, it means that internal conflict between clans might happen. This is the reason for the importance of keeping the customary boundaries and sacred places.

Merauke Food and Energy Estate (MIFEE)

In 2009, when a food and energy crisis hit the world in connection with global warming, the Indonesian President, Susilo Bambang Yudhyono, declared his goal of feeding “Indonesia and the world” by developing a food and energy estate in Merauke, Papua. As a mean of stabilising the security of Indonesia’s food, the project – called Merauke Integrated Food and Energy Estate, or MIFEE — covers 1.6 million hectares of commercial plantations. Merauke has been designated a national Special Economic Zone (SEZ) in order to attract the $8.6 billion of investment needed for the project. MIFEE is one of the priority programmes of the second term of his presidency (2009 to 2014).

To fulfill its ambition, the government of Indonesia has invited multinational companies from the Middle East, Asia, and the US, as well as from Indonesia. More than 30 companies confirmed their interest in this project and have already received concessions from the Indonesian government. Some, such as the Bin Laden Group from Saudi Arabia, announced their interest in spending 43 million dollars for 500,000 hectares of land on rice fields in Merauke. Then it was followed by some other companies from Qatar, Oman and the United Arab Emirates who also want to invest in agribusiness in Indonesia2. International Paper, based in Memphis, Tennessee, is also reported to have had exploratory talks with the Indonesian minister of forestry concerning developing a mill either in Kalimantan or in Merauke3. From Asia, a Japanese Corporation, the Mitsubishi group, the Wilmar group from Singapore, and LG International from Korea, also made commitments to this project though a joint venture with Indonesian companies. Companies such as Medco Group, owned by Arifin Panigoro; Artha Graha Network, owned by Tomy Winata; PT Bangun Cipta Sarana, owned by Siswono Yudhohusodo; Comexindo International, owned by Hasyim Djojohadikusumo; Sumber Alam Sutra; Korindo; PT Rajawali Nusantara Indonesia; Sinar Mas; PT Kertas Nusantara; PT Digul Agro Lestari as part of Astra Agro Lestari, and Sinar Mas Group4 are the Indonesian partners of these multinational companies. As well as investing in food plantations, many of them are interested in industrial timber plantation and cheap production.

MEDCO Group vs Malind

Medco International is an integrated corporation that invests in oil, gas, mining and energy sectors across Asia, Africa, and the US. It has 8 production blocks in the US and the Gulf of Mexico, 2 exploration blocks in Yemen, 2 blocks in Cambodia, 1 block in Tunisia, and 1 in Libya1. According to The Jakarta Post, Hilmi Panigoro, the presidential commissioner, stated that Medco Energy International will collaborate with the Libyan Investment Authority (LIA) for US$ 400 million investment on an oil facility in Libya. The investment will be shared fifty-fifty with LIA.2 In Indonesia, Medco Energy owns 10 blocks in total in Sumatra, Java, Kalimantan and Sulawesi.

In order to spread out its business, Medco Energy particularly shows an interest in bio-fuel and bio-energy. In Sumatra (Lampung), Medco is spending US$ 45 million for 13,000 hectares of Cassava plantations. Then in Merauke, Papua, Medco is investing in 170,000 hectares for an industrial timber plantation. MIFEE has one of its priorities as energy investment. It has been planning to operate using a similar model of corporate farming as in Brazil. According to Hilmi Panigoro, Brazil is a successful model of an integrated agriculture project regarding energy and food security. Panigoro said Brazil has switched 50% of its fuel consumption from only 1% of its fertile land. Moreover, he quotes the studies of the FAO in 2005 that suggested Indonesia has more potential for developing bio-energy than Brazil. 3

Medco has strong support from the Indonesian government and the local authorities in Merauke. Without consulting with the Malind people, the Indonesian government, with help from the local government, has split opinions in the area about forestry and agriculture.

In September 2009, LG International announced its partnership with Medco Group to obtain 1 million hectares of Papua’s forests for wood chips. For that reason, the Korean corporation spent about US$ 25 million on 25% of PT Metra Duta Lestari (Medco Group), with another 66% held by Medco.4

Local independent media, Jubi online, reported complaints from the Malind tribes’ leader Alberth Onoka Gebze Moiwend, in Merauke, about Medco’s activities. Alberth explained that Medco’s forest clearance was destroying hunting places, and firewood and food grounds of the Malind tribes who live in Bupu village. In addition, wastes from Medco’s pulp factory in Bupu village is polluting the river, which is the only water supply for the village. Yet Medco Group refuses to say that its activity affects deforestation. The company, is already producing large amounts of timber from natural forests, and has shipped several barges, mostly of acacia and eucalyptus trees for chips in Merauke. All the land will be cleared and then replanted with other seedlings of commercial timber. Moreover, Onoka Moiwend asserted that Medco activities could potentially bring the indigenous people in Merauke towards slow extermination.

The Malin people in Kaliki, a small village near the town, are waiting for their compensation from Medco. According to the local church, the PT Medco Papua (PT Medco) company entered Kaliki village in 2008 and promised to pay compensation to five clans (Mahuze, Kaize, Balagaize, Gebze, and Ndiken) who own the land. On 3 March, 2008, they organised a meeting with villagers. PT Medco promised to give them compensation for the use of land with 10 motorbikes for the Gebze family, who owned most of the land; and they promised to build houses for the villagers. Additionally, the company would provide each villager with their own bank account and provide a school and houses for the teachers. Also, there would be guaranteed scholarships and dormitory costs for children of Kaliki who continued their studies in the city. The company would facilitate a new road to Kaliki as well. Medco would provide jobs for villagers in order to improve their economic situation.

Nevertheless, the company created internal conflicts between clans in the village by signing an agreement with only the other four clans. In the meantime, Medco made another agreement with the Gebze clan who agreed to sell 20 hectares of their land with only a payment of 20 Million Rupiahs (approximately £1500). The four other clans complained to the company and the Gebze. Misunderstandings between those clans finally led to one of the Gebze members being a victim of a black magic practice that cause his death. Villagers and Gebze families believed that the black magic was sent by people from the other clans. For that reason, the clans are fighting against each other while the company continues to run its project. Just recently, the local church took an initiative to mediate between the Gebze and other clans to resolve their conflict. Finally, the villagers have decided to reject PT Medco and its activities in Kailiki.

It has been reported that there has been strong rejection of MIFEE by local people. Solidarity groups called SORPATOM and KOMALI have formed a resistance alliance. Protests and demonstrations had been organised by these groups. Furthermore, the customary leaders in Merauke wrote a letter of rejection to MIFEE and sent it to the UN Special Rapporteur for Indigenous People was facilitated by AMAN (The Indigenous People’s Alliance of Archipelago), the main Indonesian Indigenous People’s forum. AMAM delivered a statement of concern about human rights in Merauke in connection with the MIFEE project to the UN Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues in New York, in April, 2010. AMAN in its statement categorises the MIFEE project as “a structural and systematic genocide of the West Papuan people” this was endorsed by 24 indigenous people’s organisations around the world5. The rejection of MIFEE has now gained big support from different organisations in Indonesia and Papua, and internationally as well.

The case of Kaliki is only one of many cases that have happened in the region. Not only Medco, but also some 30 other companies cause problems for the indigenous people there. However, the Indonesian government stays quiet and continues its interest in this mega-food project. At tge local government level, Merauke recently had a new head of authority who has a different perspective on this food project. Romanus Mbaraka, the new head has decided to postpone operating this project under the local legislation. However, he has no authority to influence national investment policy.

The question is for how long the indigenous people in Papua will resist the bombardment of investments threatening their existence in their ancestors’ land.

Notes

Published in War Profiteers’ News, March 2011, No. 28

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2

AJI Papua Presses Police About Lack of Progress Over Stabbing

Media information FYI

The Jakarta Globe
Sunday, March 27, 2011

AJI Papua Presses Police About Lack of Progress Over Stabbing

The Papua chapter of the Alliance of Independent Journalists has
expressed frustration with the sluggish pace of police investigations
into the stabbing of local journalist Banjir Ambarita.

“The investigation is taking too long, that is why we are monitoring
the case closely,” said Viktor Mambor, chairman of the Papuan branch
of the alliance also known as the AJI. “We are going to do something
to pressure the police, like hold a protest rally.”

“The new [Papua] police chief was once in Densus [the National
>Police’s counterterrorism unit], investigating a case like this should
be easier than capturing terrorists,” he said.

Banjir, a freelance reporter and contributor to the Jakarta Globe, was
attacked in Jayapura by two men on a motorcycle as he was riding his
own motorcycle home shortly after midnight on March 3.

The Jayapura Police’s detective unit questioned Banjir on Friday, more
than three weeks after the stabbing. “Because Banjar Ambarita’s
condition has improved, we formally asked him for information in
relation to the stabbing,” said First Adj. Insp. Widodo, an officer in
the unit. “A total of 37 questions were posed and were answered well.

“We have already questioned five witnesses, but we have yet to find a
lead,” he added.

Viktor said the AJI appreciated the police’s efforts but said: “Even
though they are working quite well in carrying out their job, this does not guarantee that they are taking the case seriously.”

Poengky Indarty, director of external relations at rights group Imparsial, said that as a defender of human rights in Papua, it was
vital that Banjir be protected.

“Until today, the perpetrators responsible for the violence have not
been identified,” she said. “We urge the Papuan Police to make every
effort to catch the offenders and legally process them.”

She said Banjir had provided police with information to make a sketch
of his attackers. “We want them to investigate based on this sketch
and look into police officers who may be involved in the case,” she
said.
Nurfika Osman

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0

The Indonesian Government: closing window for peace in West Papua

This article originally appeared at
Jason MacLeod

Just as Indonesia’s president Susilo Bambang Yudhuyono was being feted globally for being a democrat, the Indonesian government was entrenching Papua’s reputation as Indonesia’s last bastion of authoritarian military rule. Now Peace Brigades International has finally been forced out.

The latest casualty in the Indonesian Government’s efforts to seal off West Papua from international scrutiny is Peace Brigades International (PBI). In January this year the international non-government organisation was finally forced out of Indonesia. Since 1981 at the invitation of local people, PBI has been providing unarmed protection to human rights defenders at risk in conflict zones around the world. International accompaniment is literally the embodiment of the international community’s concern. The presence of internationals increases the cost of attacking human rights workers and expands the political space for local activists. All this is made possible by an elaborate communication network. PBI staff meet with local police and military personal as well as their superiors in regional and national capitals to let them know exactly who is being accompanied. This acts as a deterrent. The PBI volunteers are the eyes and ears of the international community, communicating the human rights situation on the ground to an international network of governments and civil society actors. It is a tried and tested approach that has worked in places as diverse as El Salvador, Guatemala, Colombia, Haiti, Sri Lanka and Nepal.

Members of the PBI Indonesia Project were invited by Acehenese activists to accompany them through the darkest days of martial law. Acehenese civil society organisations like Flower Aceh and Koalisi HAM (the Human Rights Coalition) were able to continue their work because of PBI protective accompaniment. It gave local workers a sense that the international community cared about their situation and sent a clear message to the Indonesian army that they were being watched. PBIs protective accompaniment helped expand the space for peace in Aceh in the lead up to the historic Helsinki Peace Agreement. But in West Papua, home to Indonesia’s longest running separatist conflict, the world’s oldest international nonviolence organisation has finally met its match. After years of harassment from the Indonesian security forces the PBI Indonesia Project was closed down.

My colleagues and I helped set up the PBI West Papua project in 2003. I left the organisation in 2004 but kept in close contact with many of the organisers and staff members. One of the reasons PBI responded to an invitation from Papuan human rights defenders was because for years the Indonesian government has closed off access to West Papua to humanitarian organisations, journalists and even diplomats. It is important that Papua is opened up to the international community if human rights are to be addressed. But while the rest of Indonesia moved towards greater democracy, Papua slid back into an authoritarian backwater ruled by the Indonesian security forces as if it was their own private fiefdom. Since PBI established a presence in West Papua Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, the Dutch NGO CordAid and even the Red Cross have all been denied access. This level of hostility by a State to international scrutiny of a human rights situation is unusual. Even during the height of apartheid, the South African government permitted the Red Cross access to political prisoners. Not so in West Papua.

Prior to being forced out of West Papua, PBI was the only international human rights organisation with a permanent presence in Indonesia’s restive Pacific periphery. A group of long-term international volunteers based in Jayapura, the capital and in Wamena, in the troubled highlands, provided unarmed protection for Indonesian and Papuan human rights defenders and monitored the situation on the ground. PBI helped protect human rights defenders and lawyers trying to expose police brutality during the ‘Bloody Abepura’ trial in 2004. PBI also protected Papuan human rights defenders who were investigating the security forces after they cracked down on Papuans in the wake of the March 16 2006 blockade of the main road outside the University of Cendrawasih in Jayapura.

PBI is governed by a strict mandate. The organisation only supports unarmed actors, they do not take sides and they do not tell Papuans how they should run their struggle. Despite this the Indonesian government was petrified of PBI. I experienced this personally. When I was taken in for questioning in West Papua in 2007 after observing a demonstration in Papua, the very first question the Indonesian police intelligence agent asked me – even before enquiring whether I was a journalist or spy – was “Are you PBI?” By then I had left the organisation but it revealed the depth of the intelligence services concerns about PBI.

Almost from the moment PBI started work in West Papua the Indonesian government acted to restrict PBI’s access and ability to work. In 2009 the organisation was pressured to close the Wamena office in West Papua’s remote highlands, the scene of frequent human rights violations by the Indonesian military. PBI staff were refused permission to work as the police and intelligence services launched an official investigation into the organisation’s status. National Indonesian staff started to receive threatening phone calls. They felt increasingly vulnerable.

By late 2009 all one-on-one protective accompaniment had ceased. In an effort to stay in Papua protective strategies were reduced to regular check-in calls with PBI clients who felt threatened by state security forces. Then on 30 July 2010 Ardiansyah Matra’is’s naked, handcuffed body was found in the River Gudang Arang. His arm had been tied to a tree to prevent his body from floating downstream. Matra’is was a journalist working for Papua’s only national independent paper, Jubi. Matra’is had been critical of illegal logging operations run by the Indonesian military in Merauke and had taken photos of their activities. Matra’is was also a PBI client. His murder was the first time in Indonesia that a current PBI client had been killed.

The writing was on the wall: PBI was no longer making space for peace in Papua. In fact the opposite was happening. The Indonesian government was closing space for peace in Papua, and PBI appeared powerless to halt the slide into greater military impunity. Just as Indonesia’s president Susilo Bambang Yudhuyono was being feted globally for being a democrat, the Indonesian government was entrenching Papua’s reputation as Indonesia’s last bastion of authoritarian military rule.

But the Indonesian government’s restriction of access to West Papua is not just confined to grassroots international nonviolence organisations. Jakarta is even willing to snub the US government. In late 2010 the US Ambassador, Scott Marciel asked the Indonesian government if staff from the Embassy could observe the trial of three soldiers involved in torturing Papuan civilians. The torture, which including burning a man’s genitals with a stick, was filmed on a mobile phone camera and leaked to transnational human rights networks. When the footage was uploaded on to YouTube and featured on domestic and international news networks it generated massive moral outrage not just internationally but inside Indonesia as well. When the trial went ahead last month, Mr. Marciel was notified by the Indonesian government only 24 hours beforehand, not enough time to apply for a surat jalan, a letter of permission to travel to West Papua required by the Indonesian government. It was not an official denial from the Indonesian government but it may as well have been.

The Indonesian government is blocking access for all those who want to shine a light into West Papua. The problem for the Indonesian president, Susilo Bambang Yudhuyono is that he has allowed the Indonesian intelligence services to dominate decision-making processes in West Papua. The intelligence services determine who gets access into West Papua and who does not. They are the ones who assess the applications of foreign NGOs, journalists and even diplomats who want to travel to West Papua. Access to West Papua should be subjected to the rule of law and not to surveillance principles. If democracy and rule of law was present in West Papua, the surat jalan regime would be abolished altogether.

The Indonesian government cannot have it both ways. The human rights situation in West Papua cannot be fine while at the same time the Indonesian government and its intelligence and security forces insist the territory is off limits to foreigners. Either human rights are respected in West Papua or they are not. The closure of PBI in Indonesia only sharpens the international community’s perception that the Indonesian government has something to hide in West Papua.

Jason MacLeod worked for the PBI Indonesia Project from 2000 to 2004. He teaches civil resistance at the University of Queensland.
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SMH: A Worm Inside the New Indonesia

FYI – Media Information

[With reflections on West Papuan situation.]

The Sydney Morning Herald
February 26, 2011

A Worm Inside the New Indonesia

by HAMISH McDONALD

WITH popular uprisings turfing out rulers in Tunisia, Egypt and perhaps elsewhere in the Arab world, a lot of analysts have focused on fears of ”contagion” in other regions, notably on China’s censorship of news reports about the protest wave in the Middle East.

Yet the Middle East event that might have the most far-reaching effect is not the awakening of the Arab ”street” against authoritarian rulers, but the vote in a United Nations supervised referendum a month earlier.

The largely African people in the south of Sudan voted overwhelming to secede from their Arab-dominated country and form a new nation – a result accepted by the Khartoum government and its main foreign backers, including China.

This has followed the declaration of independence from Serbia by Kosovo in 2008 that was accepted by most of the world and approved by the International Court of Justice, and Russia’s unilateral recognition of Georgia’s South Ossetia and Abkhazia as sovereign states soon afterwards in retaliation. It has left respect for the ”territorial integrity” of states and post-colonial boundaries somewhat tattered.

Already the example is being applied to an intractable issue right on Australia’s border and forming the touchiest part of what many see as our most important foreign relationship – the question of West Papua, the western half of New Guinea now part of Indonesia.

As Akihisa Matsuno, a professor at Osaka University, pointed out this week in a conference at Sydney University’s Institute of Peace and Conflict Studies, South Sudan and Kosovo take West Papua out of the usual context of debate about the rights and wrongs of its decolonisation from Dutch rule in 1962 and ”act of free choice” under Indonesian control in 1969.

Kosovo’s independence was a case of ”remedial secession”: no states claimed the Kosovars had a right to self-determination, there was just no prospect of its peaceful reintegration back into Serbia or the rump Yugoslavia. Protection of people in Kosovo had more weight than Serbia’s territorial integrity.

Sudan became independent in 1956 from British rule, but has been in civil war most of the time since, with a 2005 peace agreement finally conceding a referendum. This suggests lack of integration between territories ruled by the same colonial power can justify a separate state, Matsuno said. ”This means that colonial boundaries are not as absolute as usually assumed.”

Indonesia itself went down this path in 1999 by insisting, for its domestic political reasons, that East Timor’s vote in 1999 was not a delayed act of self-determination that should have been taken just after the Portuguese left in 1975, but a ”popular consultation” with the result put into effect by Indonesia’s legislature. This amounted to conceding a right of secession to its provinces, Matsuno said.

West Papua’s act of free choice was seen as a farce from the beginning. As the historians Pieter Drooglever in Holland and John Saltford in Britain have documented, monitors were kicked out of the territory by the Indonesians in the seven-year interval between the Dutch departure and the ”act” – which was a unanimous public vote by an assembly of 1022 handpicked, bribed and intimidated Papuans in favour of integration with Indonesia.

Revolt has simmered and broken out sporadically ever since. Canberra’s relations with Jakarta went into crisis in 2006 when 43 Papuan independence activists and family members crossed the Torres Strait by motor canoe and requested political asylum.

Richard Chauvel, an Indonesia scholar at Melbourne’s Victoria University, told the conference Jakarta feels Papuan independence is not seen as the threat it was a decade ago when a ”Papuan spring” of breakaway sentiment and protest followed East Timor’s departure. The territory has been broken into two provinces so far, and numerous district governments, Papuan separatists fragmented, and no state bar Vanuatu is questioning Indonesian sovereignty (though the US Congress last September held its first committee hearing on West Papua).

Yet Chauvel says West Papua has become an ”Achilles’ heel” for a democratising Indonesia over the last 10 years. ”Papua is Indonesia’s last and most intractable regional conflict,” he said. ”Papua has become a battleground between a ‘new’ and an ‘old’ Indonesia. The ‘old’ Indonesia considers that its soldiers torturing fellow Indonesians in a most barbaric manner is an ‘incident’. The ‘new’ Indonesia aspires to the ideals of its founders in working towards becoming a progressive,
outward-looking, cosmopolitan, multi-ethnic and multi-faith society.”

President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono called the recently reported
torture cases ”incidents” by low-level soldiers, not the result of high-up instructions. Chauvel says he is probably correct: ”A more likely explanation is that instructions were not necessary. These acts reflected a deeply ingrained institutional culture of violence in the way members of the security forces interact with Papuans.”

Matsuno argues that South Sudan makes Indonesia’s post-colonial claim to West Papua more shaky, since it too had racial, religious and other differences to the rest of the country and had been administered separately within the former Netherlands East Indies. A ”more moral question” behind self-determination is coming to the fore, he said, the factor of ”failure” in governing.

The Japanese scholar sees echoes of East Timor in the late 1980s, when even foreign policy ”realists” started recognising the failure of Indonesian rule on the ground: serious human rights abuses, foreign media shut out, migrants flooding in, local leaders turning away from government, a younger generation educated in the Indonesian system refusing to identify themselves as Indonesians.

”These young people were increasingly vocal and continued to expose the ‘unsustainability’ of the system,” Matsuno said. ”Indeed the unsustainability of the situation in West Papua seems to be a truth. Only it takes some more time for the world to realise the truth.”

No one expects any outside power to intervene. But as we are seeing in the Arab despotisms, the new media make it harder and harder to draw a veil over suppression. In the Indonesia that is opening up, the exception of West Papua will become more glaring.

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Reader reply: Australia and Kopassus

http://securityscholar.wordpress.com/2011/01/14/reader-reply-australia-and-kopassus/

Security Scholar

Reader reply: Australia and Kopassus

14/01/2011
by Natalie Sambhi

Associate editor at Australian Policy Online and Researcher with the Monash Global Terrorism Research Centre at Monash University, Andrew Zammit provides comment to my post on Australia’s options with Kopassus.

Comer’s critique of the Leahy amendment highlights many flaws in its implementation, but his suggested modifications don’t really provide a way forward for dealing with Kopassus. His suggestion that Leahy should include a mechanism to re-legitimise units which have cleaned themselves up and purged human rights-abusers is perfectly sensible. But the problem with Kopassus, made clear in the human rights reports mentioned in the Deutsche Welle article you cited, is not only past violations but continuing ones, albeit on a far lesser scale. So a Leahy amendment with Cromer’s modifications would probably continue to restrict aid to many Kopassus units.

A theme underlying Comer’s piece was that efforts to tackle human rights abuses are more likely to be successful when they are consistent. I’d suggest it follows from that that Australia’s position should be closer to that of the US Congress.

US Congressional efforts to hold the Indonesian military accountable have repeatedly been undermined by those who, I’d argue, should have been supporting them. In the mid 1990s the Clinton administration provided high levels of assistance to the Indonesian military that at very least violated the spirit of the Congressional restrictions. The Bush administration criticised the restrictions publicly and repeatedly, which may have signalled to the Indonesian military that the US was not completely serious about human rights reform. As your post pointed out, Obama also undermined Congressional efforts in 2010. In addition to this, throughout these past two decades Australia provided military assistance to Indonesia with fewer restrictions than the US (excluding the period immediately after the East Timor referendum, when both the US and Australia cut off military aid).

These inconsistencies would have greatly weakened the pressure that the Leahy amendment and other restrictions were intended to apply, and may well be more important than the specific flaws in the Leahy amendment described by Comer.

Current Kopassus commander, Major General Lodewijk Paulus, has stated that he hopes America’s position on assistance to the Indonesian military becomes closer to Australia’s; I hope it’s the other way round.

—

http://securityscholar.wordpress.com/2011/01/11/australias-options-on-kopassus-and-human-rights/

Australia’s options on Kopassus and human rights

11/01/2011
by Natalie Sambhi

Last week, the Indonesian National Commission on Human Rights (Komnas HAM) released its preliminary report into the alleged torture of Papuans by the Indonesian military (TNI). Quoted in a Deutsche Welle report on 4 January, the head of the commission, Ifdhal Kasim, confirmed that members of TNI had “grossly violated human rights”. The DW piece finished with Phil Robe’s (deputy director of Human Rights Watch’s Asia Division) call for Australia to put pressure on Indonesia to reform TNI’s Army Special Forces, Kopassus, or risk losing credibility as a country that respects human rights. I was curious to know exactly what HRW meant by “pressure”.

In their open letter of 26 October 2010, HRW recommended two lines of action for the Australian Prime Minister: first urge the Indonesian government to undertake further investigations and disciplinary action into allegations of abuse by the military, to adopt legislation to provide civilian criminal court jurisdiction over military personnel responsible for offenses against civilians, and to investigate allegations against Detachment 88; and second tighten up and make public Australia’s vetting procedures for Indonesian security forces.

While there have been perennial calls (ostensibly by HRW but also within the Australian press, most recently here) for Australia to get involved, here I examine how much credence HRW’s recommendations deserve.

The first set of recommended actions­even if they are in keeping with Australia’s foreign policy leanings­is tantamount, from Indonesia’s perspective, to meddling in another country’s affairs; President SBY warned Prime Minister Gillard ahead of her November visit to Jakarta that Australia’s interference in torture cases was not welcome. Later, during her trip, Prime Minister Gillard accepted President SBY’s assurance that a “full and transparent investigation” would take place. In light of the resultant investigations carried out by Komnas HAM, it is highly unlikely that any other tangible and productive outcome would have transpired from more vocal chiding on behalf of Australia.

The second set of HRW recommendations­that is, for Australia to adjust its own rather than Indonesia’s approach to human rights concerns­is far more appropriate. As I have proposed elsewhere, the adoption of a legal standard against which Australia can measure human rights reform within foreign militaries is, albeit complex and ambitious, a pragmatic way of reconciling our foreign policy with our defence engagement. A useful departure point could be the Leahy Amendment to the Foreign Assistance legislation (see s502B and subsequent appropriationslegislation). In short, Leahy prohibits US security assistance to military units where there is credible evidence that they have committed “gross violations of human rights”.

That said, Leahy is no silver bullet, and it is worth examining some of the challenges involved in adopting a similar legalistic approach. Many of the finer points of these challenges are elaborated further in Charles K. Comer’s critique, but here, I will draw out a few.

First, the wording of any test for human rights standards and vetting must be carefully constructed. In the case of Leahy, funding is barred for units rather than individuals where credible evidence demonstrates a gross violation of human rights. In the case of the US and Indonesia, two TNI officers with exemplary records who were denied US funding despite having been born after the violations alleged to have been carried out by their unit occurred (Comer: 63-64). This situation is somewhat mitigated by Australian vetting procedures which seek to minimise contact with individuals who have backgrounds of concern, however there remains a lack of accountability to which standards these backgrounds are compared. The framework provided by Leahy could complement current vetting procedures.

Second, if adopted, Leahy must be applied consistently to all foreign military partners. As Comer notes, “[i]n the case of Indonesia, units, either cohort or composite, receiving training must undergo full vetting to include the history of the unit itself. By comparison, unit vetting in the Philippines consists of vetting only the unit commander or most senior individual in the case of a composite unit.”

Third, Wikileaks cables released in December 2010 revealed that a ban on training (enacted by Leahy) between the US military and Kopassus was lifted due to pressure by Indonesian President SBY (Indonesia denies pressure was applied to lift the ban). Unsurprisingly, this brings to light the ways in which legal protection of human rights standards can be trumped by realpolitik concerns. In the words of Australian Defence Force Academy associate professor Clinton Fernandes, ”[t]he decision to renew links shows contempt not only to the victims of gross human rights violations but to members of the US Congress.” Nonetheless, that Leahy continues to serve as a yardstick of US expectations on human rights remains important, when applied and upheld correctly.

By no means should Australia be merely reactive to the calls by organisations like HRW, however, it is worth continuing to debate options proposed and perhaps draw closer to reconciling a desire to uphold human rights and an imperative to engage with Indonesia’s military.

etan

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