How Indonesia responds to human rights abuse in Papua is the measure of reform elsewhere
Lucia Withers
Impunity - literally exemption from
punishment - is the status quo in Indonesia. One of the strongest
legacies of the New Order era is that members of the security forces
feel they can and do operate above the law. Since the fall of former
President Suharto in May 1998 some tentative moves have been made to
change this status quo but with little effect to date. This article
examines the prospects for bringing an end to impunity, focussing on a
recent case in Papua to illustrate the enormity of the task.
In February 2001, the Indonesian National
Commission on Human Rights (Komnas HAM) announced it would establish
two Commissions of Inquiry into Human Rights Violations, known by the
acronym KPP HAM, one on Papua and the other on Aceh. The team on Papua
was swiftly formed. Within weeks it was on the ground investigating the
events of 7 December 2000, in which members of the police and the
Police Mobile Brigade (Brimob) had detained over 100 people during
raids on student hostels and other locations in Abepura, near the
provincial capital. The police operation had been launched to find
those responsible for an attack on a police station earlier in the day
in which two police officers and one other person had been killed.
In its preliminary findings published on 10
April 2001, the inquiry team confirmed earlier reports from Papua-based
human rights monitors that the victims of the police operation had no
connection with the raid on the police station. Instead they appear to
have been the innocent victims of police revenge. One person was shot
dead during the raids. Another two people died in custody from torture
and others suffered injuries from being severely beaten and kicked.
If, as the KPP HAM report seems to confirm,
Indonesian police officers were responsible for extrajudicial killings,
torture and arbitrary detention in Papua the previous December, what
prospect is there that they will be brought to justice, and what
significance could successful prosecutions in a single case in Papua
have for human rights in Indonesia generally?
Human Rights Courts
The answer to the first question currently
lies more in politics than with the law. Over the past year the
Indonesian government has put in place a legal framework intended to
facilitate the investigation and trial of gross violations of human
rights - namely genocide and crimes against humanity. Act 26/ 2000,
adopted by the Indonesian parliament in November 2000, provides for the
establishment of four permanent Human Rights Courts, in Jakarta, Medan,
Surabaya and Makassar. Significantly, the Act also allows for the
establishment by presidential decree (on the recommendation of
parliament) of ad hoc, or temporary, human rights courts, to try cases
of gross human rights violations committed before the legislation was
adopted. This provision potentially paves the way to investigate and
bring to justice perpetrators of the massive violations which have
taken place in Indonesia over the past three decades.
Should Komnas HAM, acting under this
legislation, find evidence that a gross violation of human rights has
taken place, the Attorney General takes over the case and initiates
criminal investigations with a view to bringing suspects to trial in a
Human Rights Court.
The principle sounds good. However, in the
current political climate sizeable obstacles block the way to justice.
The December 2000 torture and killings in Papua is the third incident
to have been the subject of inquiry by Komnas HAM under the new
legislation. Investigations of the other two cases are said to be
complete, but trials have yet to take place. There are mounting
concerns that the cases may never come to court, or that if they do the
process will be compromised.
A brief look at the chequered progress of
the first case to have been investigated - that of crimes committed in
East Timor during 1999 - gives a clue as to what can be expected in
Papua and why. It was the international response to the shocking events
of 1999 in East Timor which prompted former President Habibie to
legislate for the establishment of human rights courts and commence an
investigation. The KPP HAM into East Timor was formed under Komnas
HAM's direction. In a hard-hitting report delivered to the Attorney
General in January 2000, it declared that gross human rights violations
had been committed. Possible suspects were named, including senior
military and government officials.
After a two-month delay the Attorney
General formed an investigation team which began work in April 2000.
Consisting of officials from the Attorney-General's office, the
military police, national police and the home affairs ministry, the
team's composition led to doubts about its impartiality and indeed its
competence to investigate highly complex cases of crimes against
humanity. Its legal status was also open to question, because the
legislation under which the investigations had been initiated had been
thrown out of parliament in March 2000 to make way for a new and more
comprehensive law.
The new legislation was slow in
materialising. It was only on 6 November 2000, just eight days in
advance of a visit to Indonesia by a delegation from the United Nations
Security Council to check up on the progress of the investigations into
East Timor, that the legislation was adopted by parliament.
Although a great improvement on earlier
drafts, it is far from perfect and must be amended if the new human
rights courts are to deliver justice to victims while at the same time
protecting the rights of suspects. Among the outstanding problems are
the method of appointing prosecutors and judges and the lack of
security of tenure for judges. Both of these expose the judiciary to
political influence. Similarly, vesting parliament and ultimately the
president with the authority to decide whether or not to form an ad hoc
court for a specific past case brings the risk that political
considerations could influence this decision. This was graphically
illustrated on 23 April 2001, when a presidential decree approved the
establishment of an ad hoc court on East Timor but only for cases that
took place after
the 30 August 1999 ballot. In one move, justice has been denied to the
hundreds of victims of militia and security force violence in the
months leading up to the vote.
Among the other concerns is the inclusion
of the death penalty, which flies in the face of international human
rights standards encouraging its abolition and gives rise to fears of
'scapegoat' executions.
Protection of witnesses and victims is also
not yet guaranteed. Act 26/ 2000 does include a provision for this, but
a program has yet to be established. Without it the trials cannot
safely proceed. The real risk of intimidation can be seen in Papua,
where police have summoned witnesses and victims who spoke to the KPP
HAM members.
There has also been fierce debate as to
whether the legislation could be applied to cases which occurred before
the legislation was adopted in November 2000. An amendment to the
Indonesian constitution in August 2000 forbade the retroactive
application of law. This was widely interpreted as a political move
intended to block prosecution of past cases and thereby protect senior
military and political elites still retaining influence. However, the
crimes which come under the jurisdiction of the human rights courts are
also crimes under international law. Regardless of whether or not they
were codified in national law at the time that the crimes were
committed, the state has an international responsibility to pursue
judicial investigations.
Given all the foot dragging on East Timor,
it was something of a surprise when on 21 March 2001 Indonesia's
parliamentarians agreed to recommend to the president that two ad hoc
human rights courts be established - one on East Timor and one on
killings and disappearances which took place in the Tanjung Priok
harbour area of Jakarta in 1984. The deputy speaker of parliament
publicly admitted that they had taken this step to counter
international attention and avoid international intervention in the
East Timor case.
However, the president's decision to limit
the jurisdiction of the East Timor court to the post-ballot period
quickly dampened renewed optimism. It is still an open question whether
the political will exists in Indonesia to see this process through.
Papua
The decision to proceed with the Abepura
case may owe something to a high level of international attention. The
events had been widely publicised by Papua-based NGOs and by the Swiss
journalist, Oswald Iten, who witnessed police beating detainees while
in police custody in Jayapura for an alleged visa offence. Komnas HAM's
secretary general, Asmara Nababan, has also explained that this case
was prioritised because it occurred after the legislation on human
rights courts was adopted and therefore cannot fall victim to the
argument on retroactivity.
This may be a smart move since, should
there be sufficient evidence, the case should automatically be heard in
one of the permanent human rights courts. As a test case, it could open
the way to prosecutions of other cases of gross human rights violations
which have taken place since November 2000, thus at least establishing
a precedent of accountability for current cases. Moreover, the report
of the inquiry team recognises that the Abepura case was not a one-off
but part of a more general policy of repression in Papua both current
and past. It thus looks beyond those responsible for committing the
violations to those in positions of authority who ordered or tolerated
them.
However, the Papua inquiry team is
operating in an unreformed system. Witnesses have been intimidated and
the police have proved uncooperative. Establishing mechanisms of
accountability including a robust, independent judiciary is a long-term
project which will require pressure and support - also from the
international community - in equal measures. Each step will have to be
fought for. Standards of justice cannot be lowered to accommodate
judicial weaknesses - this would serve neither the needs of victims nor
the wider aim of ending impunity in Indonesia.
Lucia Withers (lwithers@amnesty.org)
is a researcher on Indonesia for Amnesty International. This article
reflects the personal views of the author and does not necessarily
reflect the position of Amnesty International.
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