The one who slipped through the cracks: Jokowi’s new Defense Minister should make for some glad hearts in the jackboot crowd

Wati as sent me a complete list of Jokowi’s new cabinet ministers, which were announced yesterday.  When I expressed a little bemused surprise that 25% of his picks had been rejected by the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) for being involved in graft or illegal activities (yay for Jokowi’s activation of the committee; not-so-yay for picking 8 crooks in the first place), Wati responded, “He smart that way, to forward the names to the KPK.  Some of these people are from the coalition party [and had to be nominated]. This way he can "pretend" he is innocent, and that he shouldn’t be blamed by his party since it was KPK who rejected the dubious names. This is the Asian way to stay away from being blamed.”

Here’s one of the rats who escaped the mongoose:  Jokowi’s appointment of retired General Ryamizard Ryacudu as Minister Defense sailed through without a hitch.  And you can guess that the East Timor Action Network (ETAN) was standing by to comment on this. 

"The appointment of a hardliner like Ryamizard Ryacudu tells us that President Widodo is not serious about promoting human rights or reaching out to West Papua," said John M. Miller, Coordinator of ETAN.  Miller added, "While fighting corruption may be a priority for [Jokowi’s] administration, he certainly didn't take into account Ryamizard's well-reported statements on human rights. This speaks volumes about the importance of human rights to Jokowi."   http://etan.org/news/2014/10ryamizard_ryacudu%20.htm

Ryamizard oversaw the implementation of martial law in Aceh, which began in May 2003 and took hundreds of lives. At that time he opposed negotiations, telling Time magazine, "Our job is to destroy GAM's military capability. Issues of justice, religion, autonomy, social welfare, education? Those are not the Indonesian military's problems," In the same interview, he responded to reports of his soldiers executing unarmed children, saying: "If they are armed and fire, they will be shot, because children - and women - can kill, too."

"Ryamizard clarified the army's definition of what makes a person an enemy when speaking of civilians who were unhappy with the state of siege. He indicated that anyone who had such feelings would be defined by the army as 'GAM,' i.e. a member of the Gerakan Aceh Merdeka, the Aceh Freedom Movement.” –Allan Nairn

"'People who dislike the military emergency in Aceh are GAM members,'" Gen. Ryamizard said, 'So if they have the same voice as GAM members, this will mean that they are the younger brothers of the separatist movement.'  As Amnesty International reported, “This categorization was hugely significant since the official approach to GAM was: "hunt them down and exterminate them," in the words of the armed forces commander Gen. Endriartono in May of 2003.

Can you see now why for some Indonesian military officials, the 2004 tsunami was the best thing that ever happened to them?

Ryamizard is close to former president Megawati Sukarnoputri, who heads Widodo's political party, the Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle (PDI-P). When Ryamizard was Kostrad commander he mobilized troops in central Jakarta on July 22, 2001 as parliament was preparing to impeach President Wahid (1999-2001) on what many believe were trumped up charges, inspired by Wahid's reforms and his apologies for human rights violations committed by the military in Aceh, West Papua and Timor-Leste. In 2004, during the last days of her administration, Megawati nominated Ryamizard as chief of the armed forces. (Her successor, President Yudhoyono, denied him the promotion.)

Well, look who’s smiling now.

So much for any hope of dealing with any of the conflict resolution issues that still dominate the social and economic landscape of rural Aceh.

General Thug in his GAM-stomping youth

Post-conflict does NOT mean post-corruption, extortion, or election violence: Welcome to present-day Aceh

This is a really great article by my good friend Bobby Anderson. He explains briefly and succinctly the transformation of the Free Aceh Movement (GAM) into a thug-like crime family the majority of whom are impoverished, now unemployable, and angry enough to act as “enforcers” of those few elite ex-GAM who made it into political circles and are doing everything in their power to stay there, even if their methods are unethical, brutal and hypocritical.

This is one of the main threads that runs through what I hope our documentary will cover. You’ll see how it’s connected to everything we’ve been looking into, from deforestation/illegal logging to extraction concessions to the displacement of traditional communities to serve the interests of a wealthy few—or the few who want to get even more wealthy.  How to succeed in business in Aceh?  Leave your conscience and your scruples at the port.

Why Aceh Is Not Open for Business

By Bobby Anderson, The Jakarta Globe, May 4, 2014

(JG Graphics/Modina Rimolfa)

The provincial government of Aceh has sought to attract investors in earnest since the end of the conflict between the central government and the Free Aceh Movement (GAM) in 2005. It has had to contend with two fundamental concerns that potential investors have, of which the most important is insecurity. Of lesser concern, to me at least, is alleged Islamic “fundamentalism” there.

Aceh governor and former separatist Zaini Abdullah sought to reassure potential investors at last month’s Go West! conference in Jakarta. Concerns about insecurity were said to be “baseless.” And referring to Aceh’s codification of Shariah law for Muslims and non-Muslims alike, Abdullah said Shariah “applies only to Muslims. For non-Muslims, there is no obligation at all to comply.”

Both statements are disingenuous. Let’s begin with the latter. In December Governor Abdullah signed into law a Qanun Jinayat or behavioral bylaw that requires non­-Muslims to follow Shariah. This means, for example, that non-Muslim women must wear headscarves; three warnings and then they’ll be caned.

Regarding “baseless” security concerns; ahead of the April 9 legislative elections, the Commission for Missing Persons and Victims of Violence (Kontras) counted 48 cases of election-related violence from January to March, including murder. Much of the violence occurred between two local parties: the Aceh Party (PA, Abdullah’s party) and the Aceh National Party (PNA). PA deems itself GAM’s only legitimate political successor. PNA contests this claim: it was founded by GAM veteran and ex-Governor Irwandi Yusuf.

Despite this violence, the 2014 election was an improvement on Aceh’s 2012 gubernatorial election, which pitted the incumbent Irwandi against Abdullah. The 2012 election also illustrates PA’s way of “doing business.” Irwandi was elected as an independent in 2006; he was immensely popular due to his universal health care provision and his perceived incorruptibility. PA didn’t wish to compete against him and sought to disallow his candidacy, and when that failed, it boycotted the election registration. The deadline passed: it demanded to be allowed to register again, and PA insinuated that it would “return to the past” if not allowed to re-register — i.e., that war would resume. It was allowed to register.

The number of killings, grenade attacks, and other violent incidents carried out by PA supporters in the months preceding the election correlated with the shift in public support from Irwandi to PA. In conversations with dozens of friends I once worked with in Aceh, nearly all voted for PA, not out of a legitimate desire to do so, but out of fear. Abdullah unseated Irwandi, who was actually assaulted at Abdullah’s inauguration. To label an election result based on such pervasive intimidation “free and fair,” as many observers did, is a farce. As was much of the 2014 election in rural eastern Aceh, where friends of mine described PA standing in the voting booths, to ensure people voted correctly.

In fairness to Governor Abdullah, election violence is targeted. But let’s consider the macro aspects of Aceh’s post-conflict security environment and its impact on the investment climate.

The end of the conflict did not mean the end of insurgent funding streams: GAM was rebranded as the Aceh Transition Committee (KPA), and KPA’s local manifestations generally continued to do what they’d always done: levy parallel taxes. This is often referred to in non-conflict contexts as organized crime.

GAM’s successor bodies could not provide for their grassroots in the way that their grassroots could provide for themselves during the war, when extortion and other crimes were “justifiable.” This isn’t to say that all GAM member were criminals; many fought for legitimate reasons. But insurgents need funds, and they are generally excluded from licit opportunities.

KPA channeled cash payments to combatants and communities. But it wasn’t enough. The rural Aceh economy couldn’t absorb this excess labor; many veterans simply couldn’t find decent work. And for ex-combatants, the jobs had to be better than what existed before. People weren’t going to return to working on land they don’t even own. And so crime remained a livelihood.

Meanwhile, GAM “taxed” everything it could — post-tsunami construction and other projects, small businesses, even ordinary households. I witnessed all this, in Aceh Utara, Pidie, Bireuen, and other parts of the GAM heartland where I worked. My teams were carjacked; we had to shut projects to dig wells, build markets and repair irrigation because of the constant threats and demands. Extortion occurred from the largest construction projects in the province all the way down to my mechanic neighbor in Lhokseumawe who was still paying illegal levies to the same people he was paying before the conflict ended. These are only a few aspects of a climate of insecurity that continues to the present day.

Some projects were meant to provide opportunities for ex-combatants: through jobs, grants, training opportunities. I managed a few of them as well. The trainings to individuals tended to work. Some of the secondments to existing small businesses led to jobs. But these only worked in the towns. Many businesses failed. So did the cooperatives in the hinterlands. The rural economy couldn’t absorb these entities either. And for a hard core of these veterans — the 10 percent or so who threatened, assaulted, even ‘taxed’ other participants — nine years after the peace, if you ask them what their job is, they say “GAM.”

Reintegration worked for GAM elites; the province is theirs. Corruption is pervasive, and contracts are a currency in themselves. Reintegration has not worked at the grassroots; many ex-GAM members are still committing crimes for lack of other opportunities. Every potential investment is viewed as extortable by select veterans and provincial officials, from the governor’s office to the smallest hamlet. This underscores why Aceh often only manages to attract “enclave investments” involving natural resource extraction: metals, timber, palm oil, with profits leaving the province rather than being reinvested. These opportunities provide next-to-nothing for local people, and this was one of the core grievances articulated by GAM to justify its rebellion.

For those who are content to extort, there’s no law to stop them. This is the key paradox: reintegration only works with the simultaneous re-establishment of law enforcement. But GAM’s successors couldn’t allow for adequate policing of their rank-and-file because it interferes with the income streams of the people they need support from, and they can’t provide alternatives.

Governor Abdullah and the Aceh Regional Investment Coordinating Board’s solution to the lack of rule of law and contract enforceability that inhibits investment in Aceh is to re-brand the province as a tourist destination, and through this, they hope to attract Rp 5 trillion ($435 million) in investment in financial year 2014. At the same time, tourists choosing to wear beach attire could theoretically be caned.

The provincial government needs investment to provide opportunity as well as alternatives to crime. But it can’t attract investment without establishing the rule of law. Aceh’s current rulers want the former and need the latter. But they can’t have both, so instead of making hard policy decisions to attract and protect the investments that Aceh needs, they simply pretend. The due diligence performed by any potential investor would quickly uncover these false claims. And so trust — the key ingredient in any investment — is violated, before it even begins.

Bobby Anderson works on health, education and governance projects in Eastern Indonesia. Contact him at rubashov@yahoo.com.

http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/opinion/aceh-open-business/

Are you asking yourself: why is GAM against GAM in the Aceh Legislative elections?

It’s a good question, and bears some explanation.

It’s awfully convenient for Jakarta, with its long and bitter dispute with Aceh, to broadcast this version of why Aceh is so volatile: “well, it’s nobody’s fault but their own—they’re attacking each other after all.”

Unfortunately, in the history of Aceh, no one comes out smelling like a rose.

Here’s my brief Cliff-notes version (warning: small history lesson ahead):

Remember, the republic of Indonesia was not always independent; it was controlled by the British and then the Dutch until 1945, then after a bloody 4-year war with the Dutch it gained independence in 1949.  Aceh (north Sumatra) had been part of a larger and quite prosperous Sultanate (including all of Sumatra and the Malay peninsula) since 1511. 

Under the Anglo-Dutch Treaty of 1824 the British ceded their colonial possessions on Sumatra to the Dutch; the British named Aceh among these possessions even though they did not control it [of course they did!] The Dutch agreed to respect Aceh's independence at first but couldn’t help themselves and invaded again in 1871, possibly to prevent France or the US from doing it first.  This led to the 40-year Aceh War, in which the Acehnese established themselves as a formidable foe with exceptional military and fighting skills (this did not go unnoticed by the rest of Indonesia, which was having its own problems with the colonial powers at the time). The Dutch kind of won, and set up a colonial government in Aceh until World War II and the Japanese occupation of much of Indonesia.  During the occupation the Japanese tried to instill as much nationalist sentiment as possible in the more rural and remote parts of Indonesia, including Aceh.  Throughout all these events it was Aceh’s belief (fostered by various promises, agreements and assurances) that it would remain independent. Aceh revolted soon after its inclusion into an “independent Indonesia” in 1948, a situation created by a complex mix of what the Acehnese felt were betrayals and transgressions against their rights:

a)     Soekarno, the first president of Indonesia (and a member of the nationalist PNI party), reneged on his 1948 promise that if Aceh lent its trained military to assist in the war for Indonesian independence, it would be allowed to rule itself in accordance with its religious values which had been in place for centuries

b)     Aceh was politically dismantled and incorporated into the province of North Sumatra in 1950. This resulted in the Acehnese Rebellion of 1953-59, led by Governor and Ulama party leader Daud Bereueh.

c)     In 1959, the Indonesian government attempted once again to placate the Acehnese by offering wide-ranging freedom in matters relating to religion, education and culture.

 [let me tell you, we are zipping through history—this is by no means a thorough account!]

During the 1970s, under agreement with Indonesian central government (but not with Aceh), American oil and gas companies began exploitation of Aceh’s natural resources. Alleged unequal distribution of profit between Jakarta and Acehnese citizens induced Hasan di Tiro, the former ambassador of Darul Islam, to call for an Independent Aceh. He proclaimed Aceh Independence in 1976—the same year as East Timor proclaimed its own independence.  Both provinces were rewarded for this by severe and near-genocidal discipline that in Aceh’s case only ended when the 2004 tsunami killed 170,000 Acehnese with far more rapidity than the Indonesian army could have.

[Darul Islam is a group established in 1942 "aiming for the establishment of an Islamist State of Indonesia."  It has many factions but in general the group recognizes only Shari'a as a valid source of law. It’s interesting to remember, however, that the declaration of Aceh independence had to do with the unequal distribution of wealth, and not religious practice.  See, it always, always comes down to economics.  I'll have a LOT more to say about this in the next post--all my opinions, mind you.]

The movement for Aceh Independence was called the Free Aceh Movement (GAM), and had very few followers initially, but as pressure and human rights abuses from Java mounted over the next two decades, it gained widespread support from Acehnese citizens.  A brief bone-throwing by Jakarta in 2001 that ostensibly broadened Aceh’s autonomy was followed by even more brutality, and a state of emergency was proclaimed in the province that was only broken by the Tsunami’s devastation and the subsequent 2005 “peace accord.”

          Women soldiers of the Free Aceh Movement with GAM commander Abdullah Syafei’i, 1999

The following text is excerpted  from a white paper that we delivered to the Clinton Foundation at their request in 2012 and regards the state of division within GAM and possible reasons for this.

Numbers vary slightly, but approximately 3,000 of the 21,000 known GAM combatants were reported by GAM leaders to the government immediately following the [2005] peace agreement/MoU signing. There are many reasons why the large remaining numbers were not reported, chief among them being that GAM feared that the Indonesian government, once receiving the surrendered weapons of GAM’s entire militia, would renege on any peace agreement and retaliate with violence on now-unarmed “enemies of the state.”  Subsequently, the 3,000 who were registered were compensated in the form of government positions, financial remuneration, etc.  GAM members felt that these 3,000 would be the harbingers of a finally integrated province and would act as their advocates and supporters in the form of insuring that their remaining ranks of 14-18,000 would receive reintegration assistance as well.

This was not the case.  While many of the 3,000 registered members became quite powerful and “reintegrated” comfortably into their communities (Governor Irwandi himself is a former GAM leader) they abandoned many of the promises to their constituents that had elevated them to this status in the first place.  Former combatants had taken to heart Governor Irwandi’s promise of approximately $40 million for rural development projects, as well as assurances that they would receive land and livelihoods training as part of reintegration activities.  Although many public documents state that all ex-combatants have received some type of assistance, the reality is that very few have received any assistance at all.  They live in remote districts where few if any government officials or agency has visited, and the assistance that they may have received has come through tsunami relief, which was far more broadly distributed and tracked than any relief to former GAM Members.  Indeed, the tsunami relief (Multi-Donor) funds were significantly lacking in any mandated provisions for ex-combatants and their particular issues and needs.  Notes one publication, “In their rush to provide assistance to tsunami victims, many international agencies signed undertakings that they would not ‘interfere’ in the conflict.  By and large the US$600 million Multi-Donor Fund (MDF) could not be used in conflict-affected areas that were not hit by the tsunami. As a result, there has been a significant discrepancy between the aid reaching tsunami-affected areas and that to many heavily conflict-affected regions, creating an artificial dichotomy between post-tsunami and post-conflict Aceh.”

Many of the authors of the documents extolling the (relative) success of the reintegration programs were in fact hand-picked by those government officials eager to put a successful face on the reintegration issue, and much of the data and conclusions are suspect.

In successive Governor’s Decrees, BRA (the agency responsible for reintegration) has been tasked with “formulating programs for the reintegration of former GAM into society in the fields of government, political participation, integration, and community empowerment in the social and economic spheres.” Public documents also indicate that BRA “has managed to directly facilitate individual assistance to approximately 20,000 conflict actors.”  This is not true.  Very little money has flowed directly to former combatants.  The reason for this are presented eloquently in a number of publications, usually accompanied by complaints from BRA as to why they could not comply, but the results are the same: approximately 15,000 fighting-age males in Aceh province feel as though they have been abandoned by the government that they believed, through the peace accord, had promised to welcome them as citizens with bright futures.

The violence surrounding the elections is a culmination of sentiment that has been percolating in Aceh for years.  The Aceh party [PA –Partai Aceh], comprised of former GAM members, is furious with Governor Irwandi [former PA and now PNA] for what they perceive as near treasonous actions towards them.  BRA and other agencies have not bothered to address the issue of appropriate reintegration and what it means.  Much-needed education and vocational training programs, land allocations, agriculture and livestock and training have never been launched, despite claims to the contrary.  “Field reports” go out of their way to explain the complexity of the MoU and how it can’t be implemented easily due to language regarding individual vs. community-wide benefits.  Partai Aceh is now seen as filled with strong-arming thugs who disrupt elections in order to get their needs met and who have their fingers on the pulse of all large development projects.  In a sense, these non-3,000 former GAM members have played as cast—marginalized, ignored troublemakers who according to those in power should have been grateful they weren’t all rounded up and dispatched.

These former combatants extend through the province like a web, earning money by growing marijuana, logging illegally in protected forests, and sometimes committing robbery and shootings for hire, trying to compensate for the sustainability the government refuses to give them, says it has already given them.  They are also resourceful, determined, and in some cases very well-respected in the communities they inhabit, and their disgust with the care that has been extended them and their families transmits exponentially through the districts so that young men in remote villages with few opportunities of their own begin to see these disenfranchised fighters as their role models.

It is JMD’s belief that far more attention should be paid to providing education assistance (high school equivalency programs) and vocational training to former combatants, and that the Acehnese government can facilitate this initiative quite easily.  The hardest thing for NGOs to address is a community of former GAM saying “Our government gave us nothing. We were promised land and training.  We were promised that we’d be able to care for our families legally and respectfully.  There is no way for us to survive now except through violence and crime.”  Because we can’t tell them “No, that’s not true, you weren’t abandoned, your government cares about you.”