As reconstruction moves into high gear, it’s time to listen to tsunami victims
Andrew Thornley
Politics and aid are awkward bedfellows, but in Aceh they collide
unavoidably. The tsunami has focused everyone’s attention on
humanitarian assistance. But we also need to see rebuilding and
development as a way to resolve the decades-old conflict. To what
extent are the Acehnese themselves participating in debates about peace
and conflict in their province? And can the Acehnese have their say in
the planning of reconstruction?
In January 2005, Search for Common Ground in Indonesia spent a week in
Aceh with a film crew interviewing residents about their perceptions of
peace and conflict after the tsunami. We asked them about their
expectations and concerns for the future. We also interviewed Acehnese
in Jakarta and Medan.
This article includes just a sample of the many voices in our film.
They do not give definitive policy pronouncements, but instead offer a
candid snapshot of opinion — albeit from a limited period of time and a
limited sample of people. They capture a rare moment when Acehnese
people felt less restricted in publicly speaking their minds.
What emerges is a clear consensus: ordinary Acehnese want peace. They
hold strong and informed views, yet they remain suspicious of the
authorities and feel that their own voices are often ignored. The
post-tsunami reconstruction effort and a new peace process should be an
opportunity to involve them in determining their own fate.
The conflict
We want permanent peace, not conflict. We really hope that conflict
doesn’t return. We are already too exhausted; too tired. We can’t say
anything more.’
This comment, from a woman we interviewed in Banda Aceh, was typical.
Overwhelmingly, the people we interviewed wanted peace. They hoped that
after the tsunami there was now an opportunity to resolve the conflict
between the Free Aceh Movement, or GAM, and the Indonesian military.
Yet despite this widespread view, fighting resumed soon after the waves
receded. Further conflict between the military and GAM in the months
ahead could deepen social cleavages, divert resources away from
rehabilitation and add to collective trauma. Conf{ict may also lead to
limited access to Aceh by international and Indonesian non-governmental
organisations and the media.
Yet one of the problems that our interviews revealed was that there is
a crisis of confidence in the government amongst ordinary Acehnese. As
one of the people we interviewed expressed it: ‘There is a very
significant distance between the government and the people, or between
local government and their constituents. As far as the people are
concerned, as long as the government or anything associated with it
does not disturb them, as long as they have what they need to eat [and]
to sleep, that’s already more than enough … I don’t know if we can call
this distrust — I think it is more than that.’
Commentators have suggested that conflict in Aceh may be transformed
irrevocably as a result of the tsunami. In fact, the future remains
unclear. In January 2005, a formal peace process once more got under
way. The talks involve representatives of the Indonesian government and
GAM. These talks may prove to be part of a solution. But alone, they
are not enough. Meaningful transformation of the conflict will require
identification of, and attention to, underlying causes. That means
listening to the people’s voices.
Participants in the formal peace process don’t necessarily represent
the majority of people who live amidst the conflict and suffer most
from its consequences. In Aceh, there are multiple shades of grey:
those in favour of independence may or may not ally themselves with
GAM, and those supporting integration with Indonesia may not support
the military’s tactics.
æalks between these two groups thus might not end up addressing the
people’s real concerns or their sense of alienation. High-level
diplomacy among combatants should be coupled with a broader dialogue
involving ordinary Acehnese.
Aid and peace
The flow of assistance after the tsunami might support peace-building,
if it addresses basic needs. But it might also bring new conflicts. As
one young man told us, ‘There is a lot of aid coming in and there are
people who are suspicious of one another … There will definitely be
conflicts between them.’ Another woman told us ‘humanitarian aid has
the potential to become a new conflict.’
Such views reflect more than just the trauma of persistent conflict. In
Aceh, foreign Christian relief workers now mingle with Muslim Acehnese
within sight of groups like the Islamic Defenders’ Front, who decry
what they say is Western proselytising and advocate stricter adherence
to Islamic law. Meanwhile, unequal access to assistance and employment
opportunities, and disputes over land title in areas destroyed by the
tsunami, could threaten peace in the months ahead.
So too could corruption in aid provision. This issue ranked highly as a
concern among the Acehnese we spoke to, not surprising given the
frequent and sometimes ironic reminders of the problem: in late January
an anti-graft activist, Farid Faqih, was beaten by soldiers in Banda
Aceh. The soldiers accused him of stealing aid. Meanwhile, Aceh’s top
official, Governor Abdullah Puteh, languishes in jail in Jakarta on
charges of corruption leveled prior to the tsunami.
Almost everyone we spoke to had a lot to say about corruption. As one
teacher expressed it: ‘We want a clean government that is free from
corruption. Because we know what is really going on here in Aceh. As an
educator, I know very well that corruption is widespread in this
country, from the lowest level to the highest level. They are all
corrupt. If I may say so, they are ‘licensed thieves’… If God made
Mount Seulawah from gold, it would be gone, stolen.’
Corruption in Indonesia is so widespread that ordinary people often say
they tolerate it because it is inevitable. However, fraud in the
delivery of reconstruction aid will draw powerful condemnation, not
least because many locals view the tsunami as God’s retribution for
insidious corruption in the province. And many people see a link
between corruption and conflict. In the words of one interviewee: ‘If
we hear later that there have been people in the system abusing the
situation [the post-tsunami relief efforts], we are worried that this
might cause more conflict.’
But the people we talked to didn’t just complain about corruption. They
also knew what needed to be done to prevent it. In the words of one
respondent: ‘To reduce the conflict or stop it returning, Aceh has to
become a ‘glass house’ so that everyone can see what goes on —
transparency.’
Keeping the discussion going
Ordinary Acehnese should be brought into the peace process, so that any
solution will reflect the will of the people and enjoy popular support.
Aceh’s rehabilitation provides a window of free expression. It should
be an opportunity for public dialogue to agree on broadly-shared
priorities about security and reconstruction. Our film is one of
numerous tools that can be used to facilitate such locally-driven
discussions, raise awareness and prompt action. Such measures can give
voice to those who may otherwise remain unheard.
One of our interviewees, an NGO activist, was insistent on this point: ‘My
hopes are that women will be more involved in every decision-making
process. This almost never happens. Usually at decision-making levels
men are more dominant. For example, women are almost never involved in
decisions concerning the master plan for Aceh.’ Without opening the
space for wider dialogue, it might not be possible to sufficiently
represent women’s voices in the peace process.
Other Indonesians, many of whom have contributed unprecedented amounts
of time, money and attention to Aceh in past months, should also be
encouraged to remain engaged in debating Aceh’s future, since many
policies critical to the province are made by politicians at the
national level. One problem in the past has been that Indonesians
outside of Aceh have had limited information — and thus understanding —
about developments there.
Wishful thinking will not transform conflict in Aceh. Solutions will
require commitment and action from the Indonesian government, GAM and
the international community. They will also require the broader
involvement of Indonesians, in Aceh and beyond.
Andrew Thornley (athornley@indocg.org)
was the country director of Search for Common Ground in Indonesia
(SFCGI) until May 2005. SFCGI is an NGO that cooperates with local
groups, government, media, conflict survivors and others to develop
innovative conflict transformation programs. Check its website at
www.sfcg.org. A copy of the film mentioned in this article can be
obtained by emailing commonground@indocg.org.
Inside Indonesia 83: Jul-Sep 2005
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