The Problem With Panic Merchants

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