Without Suharto, who will protect Freeport from itself?
Denise Leith
In 1936 a Dutch geologist named Jean
Jacques Dozy on an expedition to the centre of West New Guinea was
struck by the magnificence of a 180-metre barren black rock wall
covered in green splotches standing above an alpine meadow. Forbes
Wilson, a geologist with Freeport Sulphur of the US, first heard of
Dozy's discovery in 1959. He persuaded the company to send him to West
Papua the following year. After seeing Dozy's 'Ertzberg' (Ore
Mountain), Wilson was so excited that he correctly predicted that
Ertsberg would prove to be the largest above-ground copper deposit
discovered at that time.
The political turmoil in West New Guinea
and the subsequent takeover of the region by the left-leaning Sukarno
meant that in the early sixties the project was considered too great a
political risk for Freeport. However, the company did not forget the
possibilities it had glimpsed. Just two weeks after the military coup
in Indonesia in 1965 the company opened negotiations with the generals
in Jakarta. Although the political situation in Indonesia was
extraordinarily unstable, Freeport's connections to the highest
echelons of power in Washington, including the CIA, the Pentagon, and
the White House, must have given it some measure of assurance, as did
the messages it was receiving out of Jakarta.
With the balance of power firmly with the
American mining company there was little the insecure regime would not
do for Freeport and its powerful friends. Jakarta requested that the
company produce its own contract. Despite a question over the legality
of Jakarta signing over Papuan assets, in April 1967 Freeport was the
first foreign company to sign with the new government. The Freeport
contract signalled the beginning of a complex but mutually supportive
and beneficial relationship between the American company, the regime
and its arm of repression (TNI) that was to last another thirty years.
Under the contract Freeport was given
mining rights for thirty years within a 250,000 acre concession. The
company was under no obligation to the traditional Papuan owners of the
land, who were excluded from the consultations. Freeport was not
required to pay compensation, nor was it obliged to participate in
local or provincial development. There were no environmental
restrictions on the mining operation.
El Dorado
In 1988, with the Ertsberg mine nearing
exhaustion, Freeport announced that only a couple of kilometres away
from the hole that Ertsberg had become it had found its El Dorado:
Grasberg. Protected both physically and politically by the regime, the
company was given two new contracts which by 1994 allowed it to explore
approximately 9 million acres and mine one of the most promising
mineralised zones of the globe for another 50 years. With Suharto and
Freeport sharing an overriding desire to turn the copper and gold of
the Carstensz Range into foreign currency as expeditiously as possible,
the company was so successful that it became Jakarta's largest
taxpayer, the largest employer in the province, and the source of over
50% of West Papua's GDP.
Many Indonesians felt that their
all-powerful president was unable to deny the American company
anything. However, such an assessment ignored the complexity of the
relationship and the complementary interests which defined it. In 1967
the New Order government had simply been grateful for Freeport's
support, but by the early seventies the regime's confidence had grown.
It demanded a 10% share in the operation. With the announcement of the
discovery of Grasberg and the extraordinary wealth that it promised,
Suharto's demands on the company increased dramatically. Eventually,
Freeport financed Suharto's government, his closest associates, and
even the president into the company on exceptionally favourable, if not
questionable, terms. By the early nineties the American company had
become an integral part of Suharto's patronage system.
The president put Freeport to good
political use as well. To all intents and purposes it became a
quasi-state organisation for Jakarta in West Papua as the principal
developer and administrator of its project area and surrounds. Through
indirect support of the transmigration settlements and direct financial
and practical support of the military in the concession area, the
company also assisted Jakarta in its policy of 'Indonesianisation'.
Finally, back in the US Freeport became an important public relations
agent for the regime. Far from Suharto being a puppet of the company,
Freeport had became a compliant and valuable asset which, with the
company's complicity, was exploited by the president.
The confrontation between a highly
traditional peoples and a Western mining transnational has given rise
to complicated social issues. Initially the company cared nothing for
the traditional landowners' rights and little for their concerns. By
the early nineties, the benefits of Freeport's presence to the
traditional owners were negligible. After the signing of the new
contracts with Jakarta and the realisation that the company would
remain in West Papua for another fifty years, Freeport began to make
small efforts at community development. However, it was not until the
release of the Australian Council For Overseas Aid (Acfoa) report into
human rights violations in the Freeport concession in 1995 that the
company began to seriously address the expanding social problems.
Lacking direction, the development funds that Freeport initially pumped
into the community after 1995 only served to heighten existing tensions
by increasing divisions within, and between, competing landowning
groups. By 1998 such tensions forced the company to reassess it
programs and the distribution of development funding.
Generally over the last six years Freeport
has been successful in expanding employment opportunities, building
schools, medical clinics, a hospital and homes to improve the lives of
the traditional landowners. However, development efforts continue to be
undermined by the culture of the company, its inexperience, the
behaviour of the local authorities, the fractures within the local
community, and thirty years of antagonism. Today the area is awash with
Freeport funds, while the mining company struggles to find answers to
questions it is not equipped to deal with.
Military
Freeport had always welcomed the military
in its contract area, and considered logistic and financial support for
TNI a small price to pay for protection of its physically vulnerable
operation. However, with the publication of the Acfoa report the
company's relationship with the military left it morally and legally
vulnerable, threatening to implicate Freeport directly in human rights
abuses. Recognising that the continuation of this close relationship
precluded any improvement in relations with the indigenous community,
Freeport was eventually in the ignoble position of relying on the
military to protect its operation while simultaneously attempting to
distance itself from this increasingly discredited organisation.
Freeport's subsequent decision to throw money at TNI only succeeded in
strengthening the association in the eyes of the traditional
landowners.
Freeport contends that it has always been
committed to operating environmentally responsibly by adopting
home-state standards. However, the history of the Freeport operation in
West Papua demonstrates otherwise. The company's operating practices
continue to destroy the environment to a degree which far exceeds that
of the notorious neighbouring mines of Ok Tedi and Bougainville, and
would be unacceptable in the US. Moreover, it is impossible for
Freeport to predict what the long term damage of its operation will be.
Despite the great wealth still to be
recovered in the Freeport concession, the directors of the parent
company, Freeport-McMoRan Copper and Gold Inc, are keen to sell the
operating subsidiary in West Papua. The political uncertainties
associated with the future of the unitary state of Indonesia are
obviously of great concern to the directors. Freeport may be the
lowest-cost copper producer in the world, but the loss of its erstwhile
powerful protector in Indonesia has also made Freeport potentially
vulnerable in a number of areas, so that the potential costs of its
operation in West Papua could rise substantially.
Unlike the New Order era, the current
ministers in Jakarta dislike the company and its heavy-handed tactics.
They have at times found it expedient to make life difficult for
Freeport. Investigations within Indonesia into the corruption,
collusion and nepotism of the New Order regime, coupled with the fact
that the US Foreign Corrupt Practices Act forbids American companies
from paying bribes, may force Freeport to legally defend its
questionable relationship with Suharto and his cronies. The company is
also being attacked within Indonesia over its environmental record and
may eventually be held financially responsible for the damage it has
created and will continue to create in the future. Mine closure costs
could be extraordinary. Freeport's inability to resolve the escalating
community relations problems also represents an ongoing financial and
political burden on the company for which no end is in sight.
Finally, the financial and political costs
of supporting the military, not listed in any Freeport balance sheet,
is rising. American law courts have ruled that US companies can be held
responsible for human rights violations which are carried out by it or
on its behalf, of which it was a knowing beneficiary, or of which it
was aware and which it could have prevented. Freeport's relationship
with the Indonesian military therefore leaves it dangerously at risk.
Today the future is as uncertain for this once seemingly invincible
company as it is for its once powerful connections.
Denise Leith (djleith@hotmail.com)
recently completed a PhD at Macquarie University, Sydney, Australia, on
Freeport. A detailed article by her about the Suharto-Freeport
relationship will appear soon in The Contemporary Pacific (Vol. 14, No.
1).
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