Scott Burchill

Some

just never learn.

From

the same people who told us that East Timor should not and would not become

independent, now comes the argument that the people of West Papua should also be

denied the right to determine their political arrangements.

According

to Jakarta loyalists in Australia who reflexively fear any changes to our

neighbour’s territorial boundaries, "the break-up of Indonesia is not in

the region’s interests" (Paul Dibb) and any support for it would constitute

"perhaps the single most foolish proposition possible for an Australian

strategic thinker to propound" (Greg Sheridan). Following tensions over

East Timor, a "new potential clash" between Canberra and Jakarta could

arise if the future of West Papua was in dispute (Peter Hartcher). Violence and

mayhem, it is claimed, would inevitably accompany the dissolution of the

Javanese empire – a feature of life which is apparently unknown in the outer

provinces of the Republic of Indonesia today.

This

is both naïve and untrue.

The

territorial boundaries of states are rarely immutable. Some states and

territories reunite after a trial separation (Vietnam, Germany, Yemen, Hong Kong

and soon Macau and Korea). Others fragment, sometimes peacefully

(Czechoslovakia), occasionally co-operatively (USSR) and too frequently

violently (Ethiopia, Yugoslavia). Though followed by 25 years of struggle

against a brutal occupation and international indifference, East Timor may be

the only example of secession ultimately decided by a genuinely democratic vote.

Some

separatist movements are political protests against being governed in common

with others (Tibet, Philippines, Aceh, West Papua, Chechnya). These sub-national

revolts often imbricate with ethnic, cultural and religious divisions, which

were either constructed out of the colonial experience (Rwanda, Solomon Islands)

or not reflected in post-colonial state structures (Bougainville, Fiji).

Sub-national economic development in specially designated zones (South China)

and breakaway territories (Taiwan) are also powerful centrifugal forces which

can intensify national fragility.

Sovereign

states fragment when they no longer command the authority and loyalty which they

possessed or once claimed to possess. It is now common for minority groups to

argue that their identities and interests are excluded from the dominant images

of nationhood propounded by the state: they no longer feel part of the common

national project.

Consequently,

they start looking for new political structures which more faithfully

acknowledge their ethnicity and satisfy their political and economic interests.

This

is essentially what is happening at the western and eastern extremities of the

Indonesian archipelago. Although both Aceh and West Papua can boast of

nationalist movements which predate Indonesia’s formation fifty years ago, in

their current form both the Free Aceh movement and OPM are manifestations of

Jakarta’s greed and brutality. For decades Acehnese and Papuans have been

excluded from the common national project directed from Java, wanted only for

their natural rather than their human resources.

In

the case of West Papua, uneven nationalist sentiment and disorganised military

resistance has been bolstered by economic exploitation, transmigration and a

fraudulent plebiscite conducted, much to its discredit, under United Nations

auspices in 1969.

Jakarta,

therefore, has no-one but itself to blame for the recent decision of the Papuan

Peoples Congress to declare that West Papua is no longer part of Indonesia. It

is a reflection of how the indigenous people of the territory have been

mistreated over four decades.

If

President Wahid believes that the Congress was unrepresentative and that most

people in the territory wish to remain citizens of the Republic, he has nothing

to fear from a genuine act of self-determination – except perhaps his own grip

on the presidential office. Despite his reforms of the armed forces, there are

grave doubts that Wahid could carry enough senior military officers with him in

such a concession. Nor could he rely on any support from the foreign investment

community, particularly the mining sector. In the meantime, the Javanese elite

will still see no irony in their defence of the sanctity of boundaries

established by the perfidious Dutch.

Despite

the anxieties of panic merchants in the Australian media, neither Indonesia nor

Melanesia is disintegrating. A redefinition of Indonesia’s boundaries would

almost certainly end with independence for Aceh and West Papua and not

ineluctably lead to the Balkanisation of archipelago. In the event that this

transpires, simmering tensions should calm, releasing President Wahid to

concentrate on more central economic concerns.

Australian

Prime Minister John Howard’s attempt to appease Indonesian nationalists by

publicly supporting the country’s existing territorial integrity before his

first meeting with the Indonesian president in Tokyo backfired. It failed to

both assuage elite paranoia in Jakarta about Canberra’s regional designs and

prevent President Wahid from again postponing his visit to Australia. It makes

little sense for Canberra to respond to unpredictable events to our north by

mistakenly equating stability and order with the preservation of a status quo

that has now passed. Silence on the issue is a wiser policy.

When

the social bond which unites and integrates people into the same political

community has irrevocably broken, neither violence nor offers of limited

autonomy can restore trust and a sense of belonging. Even if the Jakarta lobby

is determined to be, Australia’s strategic planners need not be caught on the

wrong side of history again.

Scott

Burchill

Lecturer in International Relations 

School of Australian and International Studies

Deakin University