A conference on recent violence in Indonesia
Jemma Purdey
Suharto is gone and the structures that
maintained his power are weakened, yet the violence remains. Violent
conflict in Indonesia has become more frequent and more varied. It is
no longer sufficient to explain it in terms of state terrorism
orchestrated by 'third party agents' alone.
From July 3-7, a panel on 'Violent conflict
in Asia: Comparative perspectives' was part of the biennial Asian
Studies Association of Australia Conference. It was followed by a
two-day workshop on 'Violent conflict in Indonesia: Analysis,
representation, resolution'. Both were held at the University of
Melbourne. Australian and overseas researchers and academics joined a
number of Indonesian activists, academics, a lawyer, journalist, and a
publisher.
In post New Order Indonesia there is
increasing recognition of the plurality of truths about violent
conflict. State truths, 'media reality' and the 'factual' and 'moral'
truths told by human rights organisations are all in tension. The
challenge for researchers is to navigate around the various
representations of violence to understand what happened. During the New
Order, researchers most often found explanations within the
authoritarian system. Today the links between the actors involved in
the conflicts in Ambon, West Kalimantan and even Aceh with the state
elite in Jakarta cannot be made so easily. Tim Lindsey urged us to turn
our focus to new structures that have emerged in the absence of state
controls. These have evoked what he terms the 'preman state', driven by
corruption and violence. Elsewhere we see local communities bypassing
the state system altogether and enacting their own forms of justice and
order, also violently. Nick Herriman described lynchings in South
Malang, East Java, where weakened local authorities have no power to
halt these acts of 'community justice'.
The complexity of unraveling the 'truth'
about violent conflict was made very clear by Suraiya from Flower Aceh.
In a moving account, she spoke of the terror gripping the people of
Aceh every day as they struggle to make sense of a conflict in which
they have become pawns (see elsewhere in this issue). The truth about
the violence has been monopolised by both the Indonesian military TNI
and the armed Free Aceh Movement GAM, leaving no space for the victims
to tell their story. Beth Drexler noted in her paper that by
negotiating a ceasefire agreement with GAM in May this year, the
government and military have accorded this group an international
credibility and authentication, albeit false, as representatives of the
people of Aceh.
Hilmar Farid of the Volunteer Team for
Humanity (TRuK) demanded that the experiences of the victims be given a
central place in the search for understanding and resolving violence,
because the 'events of violence are not just in particular points of
time, they have a great influence on the social structure of the
community.' In his paper on the torture of ex 'communist' political
prisoners, Budiawan Purwadi demonstrated how the trauma endures for
many victims.
Discussion about resolution and justice
issues after the violence reflected the difficulties this process will
encounter in Indonesia. New Order ways of thinking persist. The South
African 'Truth and Reconciliation' model being offered by the
government and its elite advisers aims to seek out the 'truth about the
past' - to finally be able to tell the whole story and thereby bestow
justice. Retribution and revenge would be unachievable and futile.
However, many outside those elite circles, the victims of the New
Order, fear that once again their voices will not be heard. Mary
Zurbuchen of the Ford Foundation contrasted this elite push for
'reconciliation' with work being done by human rights organisations and
victim groups to research the violence. The latter emphasise the
'truth' aspect, and not necessarily 'reconciliation'.
The violence in Maluku constitutes perhaps
the greatest challenge so far to the ideal and reality of Indonesian
nationalism. As government officials continue to declare, this is an
internal conflict in which there can be no clear division between those
representing 'good' and those representing 'evil', as there was in East
Timor and now in Aceh. Richard Chauvel depicted the conflict in Ambon
as localised and specific to this place. He argued for local sources of
resolution, a method which Gus Dur, for a time, also appeared to
support. However, it is increasingly clear that such a process will not
work. The conflict in Ambon and the surrounding islands baffles even
analysts, politicians and historians with intimate knowledge of the
place. It is clear that a new discourse on violence is necessary to
understand this next chapter in the country's history.
Jemma Purdey (jepurdey@hotmail.com) and Charles Coppel (c.coppel@history.unimelb.edu.au),
both from the University of Melbourne, organised the conference panel
and workshop with the help of an advisory committee. For the program
and abstracts see www.history.unimelb.edu.au/indonesia. Jemma Purdey is a PhD candidate researching anti-Chinese violence in Indonesia.
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