‘Being appalled’ is not enough from Regional Muslim leaders

By Ross B Taylor

 

The bloody murder of innocent people in Paris last week following-on from the shocking events in Sydney have been rightly condemned by not only western governments, but also many political leaders in countries where Islam is the predominate religion.

Many commentators and community leaders saw the shocking siege in Sydney by Man Haron Monis as the actions of a madman rather than a reflection of Muslim values and beliefs. The most recent massacre in Paris is now resulting in similar comments and reactions as Muslim leaders once again point out that in both of these events, the religion of Islam has been ‘hijacked’ by despot groups and individuals made-up of disaffected people who have a twisted desire to inflict terror and murder upon our world.

The comments from those who have power and influence throughout Islamic communities leaves no doubt that the majority of Muslims are appalled at the fanatical and hard-line developments involving Islam; but is ‘being appalled’ enough to stop the advance of Islamic extremism into our region?

To our north, Indonesia has worked closely with Australia to prevent terrorist attacks, particularly in places such as Bali. The Indonesian National Police have conducted hundreds of successful raids on Islamic terrorist groups who were planning to launch attacks in their own country and the region. 

Yet over this past year we have seen the number of Indonesians joining ISIS in Iraq and Syria increase from around 80 to possibly as high as 450.

This increase in Indonesians joining ISIS occurs despite Indonesia banning them as an organisation, and leading Muslim groups denouncing ISIS activities. These are positive words but Indonesian laws still do not allow police to charge people who head-off to the Middle East to join and fight for extremist groups, leaving many of them to return home without prosecution and to then spread their hate and violence throughout their country and to regional neighbourhoods.

In the past few years we have also seen increasing examples of religious intolerance throughout Indonesia with Sunni Muslim groups seeking-out confrontations with other religious minorities including Buddhist, Catholic and also Shia Muslims. Mob violence, harassment and threats have become more common, yet very little has been done to stop these activities, and in some cases police were ‘happy’ to simply sit back and watch places of worship (including Mosques) burn as minority groups were beaten and occasionally murdered. 

In the semi-autonomous Sumatran province of Aceh, which was devastated in the tsunami of 2004, Sharia Law has recently been enforced more rigorously, restricting the rights of all other religions. ‘Qanun Jinayat’ or ‘Behaviour Governing By-Laws’ as they are known, now apply to all people including women, non-Muslims and tourists to the popular region.

Aceh has a history of attracting Islamic insurgencies and there remains the risk of this province becoming a regional hub for hard-line Islamic groups such as Jamaah Islamiyah and the Islamic Defenders Front.

As the leading example of how a country with a predominately Muslim population (about 180 million people) can function as a pluralistic and civil democracy, Indonesia has a critical interest to ensure that religious intolerance and hardline Islam is not allowed to flourish in this region.

Yet disturbingly to Indonesia’s north, and a favourite holiday spot for Australians, lies Malaysia, another good example of how a moderate form of Islam can coincide with a vibrant democracy.

Over the past five years however, Malaysia has slipped into a more hardline approach, with restrictions in political freedom of speech and the rights of women. The ruling United Malay National Organisation (UMNO) is now pushing an agenda that is, according to many experts, ‘very hardline in both political and religious life’ despite the rhetoric of the Prime Minister Najib Rasak in seeking to present Malaysia as a moderate and open society.

For many years there has been a standard joke in Malaysia that UMNO actually stands for ‘You May Not Oppose’, yet today many people feel that this is no longer simply a joke.

Conservative groups in the provinces of Sabah and Sarawak – both popular tourist locations – have recently been attempting to install strict Sharia Law, further adding to the difficulties facing Mr Rasak and his government as they strive to curtail the activities of ISIS followers whilst not alienating the 62% of the population who are Muslim; and who mostly support the UMNO.

For Australia’s foreign minister, Julie Bishop, the increase in extremist Islam and associated terrorist activities in both Malaysia and Indonesia, combined with the rise-and-rise of China as a political force in the region, will present many diplomatic challenges for Australia in the year ahead.

But it is the leaders of countries which are home to mostly Muslim populations who must do more. A good start would be for the UN to appoint Indonesia’s former, and highly respected, president Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono (SBY) as a special ambassador for Islamic Nations to lead and take control of the crisis facing their religion. Sure, SBY may not have done much to address the rising tide of extremist Islam whilst president of Indonesia, but here is his chance to truly make a difference on the world stage and to tell the story to their cousins in the Middle East and Africa how a predominately Muslim nation can successfully embrace both their religion and a truly pluralist and democratic society.

This is urgent. The long-term stability of our region depends upon a lot more than just words and a benign approach to the growth of hardline Islam by our regional leaders in Southeast Asia, and also their Arab cousins in the Middle East.

Ross Taylor AM is the president of the Perth-based Indonesia Institute (Inc)

Is there a uniquely Indonesian approach to human rights?

By Warren Doull

                                    

The book Menangani Konflik di Indonesia (Handling Conflict in Indonesia) was published in 2013. It contains insights into numerous conflicts and the way human rights were handled by the Indonesian National Human Rights Commission in the early post-Suharto years. The book’s author is Dr Bambang W. Soeharto, M.Si, a former official of the Indonesian National Human Rights Commission. 

A westerner might assume that much of the Indonesian National Human Rights Commission’s work would be similar to that of Amnesty International or the UN’s OHCHR - exposing human rights abuses. A westerner might also think that ‘Handling Conflict‘ would include seeking justice for victims of abuse. However, after just a few chapters of the book, the reader is left wondering whether the Indonesian National Human Rights Commission, or at least Dr Bambang W. Soeharto, has prioritised a certain kind of peace-building ahead of exposing human rights abuses.

Some of the conflict hotspots included in the book are East Timor, the Moluccas, Central Sulawesi and Kalimantan.

East Timor

A whole chapter is devoted to ‘Post Referendum Conflict in East Timor’. Dr Soeharto explains that prior to the August 1999 referendum, the Indonesian security forces commander had believed the referendum results would favour Indonesia, though he pointedly notes it was unclear upon what reasons or reports this belief was based. Unlike some other Indonesian officials, Dr Soeharto does not question the accuracy of the referendum results, which showed only 21.5 % voting to remain part of Indonesia.

So far, this seems consistent with the western version of events. However, he then describes the post-referendum situation as one of ‘quarreling and conflict’ between pro-integration and pro-independence supporters. Dr Soeharto does not mention that the ‘quarreling and conflict’ in East Timor in September 1999 had results that were one-sided and extreme: of the six biggest massacres of September 1999 (in Dili, Suai, Maliana, Passabe, Maquelab, and Lautem), all were commited by armed pro-integration groups against unarmed pro-independence supporters. The representation of one-sided massacres as ‘quarrelling and conflict’ echoes western history textbooks referring to ‘quarrelling and conflict’ as indigenous tribes right around the world were set upon by more lethally armed colonials.

Dr Soeharto’s creative even-handedness continues. He describes how a group of pro-independence supporters at Dili harbour on 4 Sept 2013 (ie. probably trying to evacuate) had a ‘quarrel’ with pro-integration supporters and fled to a nearby Catholic diocesan building. This had  ‘angered’ the pro-integration supporters, who subsequently burned down the building. The following day, another diocesan compound in Dili was attacked by pro-integration supporters, who bashed many people taking refuge there, burned several buildings down and murdered 15 unarmed pro-independence supporters. Dr Soeharto even tries to describe this murderous event in a detached way, referring to it as a ‘violent incident’ in which ‘many people died’. This unwillingness to identify killers and victims echoes current American references to ‘collateral damage’ from their own murderous attacks in Afghanistan and Pakistan.

The reader is beginning to realise, as the book title suggests - that the author is concerned with handling conflict, perhaps in a uniquely Indonesian sense, rather than with justice. He notes with pride that ‘establishment of the KKP HAM (the Truth and Friendship Commission) was able to water down the calls of some countries for an International Criminal Tribunal for East Timor’. The Truth and Friendship Commission emerged as a political compromise, with a mandate only to find the truth about human rights violations in East Timor but not to recommend punishments. The writer acknowledges the Truth and Friendship Commission therefore could not find justice for human rights victims. Justice, he seems to suggest in the next paragraph, was being subverted to something that was more important in a democracy: political stability! 

Dr Soeharto explains that East Timorese leaders Jose Ramos Horta and Mari Alkitiri had opposed the Truth and Friendship Commission as a whitewash. But these elites had lived overseas during the Indonesian integration years so, the author says, Xanana Gusmao had wider support from the Timorese public. And  Xanana was in favour of the Truth and Friendship Commission.

The Indonesian National Human Rights Commission

The reader gradually starts to wonder about the author’s role with the Indonesian National Human Rights Commission. If the author is not particularly interested in ensuring justice for victims, could this also be said about the Indonesian National Human Rights Commission?

Dr Soeharto’s job seems, from the stories in the book, to have been more about political trouble-shooting. His book reveals that among the dignitaries attending the book’s launch in 2013 were no fewer than three former heads of the Indonesian armed forces: Try Sutrisno, Djoko Santoso and Wiranto. Moreover, the writer in 2013 served a brief period as a senior official in Wiranto’s political party, Hanura. This association suggests Dr Soeharto had no qualms about being associated with former heads of the Indonesian armed forces and they had no qualms about his approach to human rights.

The Moluccas

The book has a chapter on conflict in the Moluccas. This chapter includes an observation that peace-building solutions must be bottom up. They must be found by understanding local context and listening to locally proposed solutions. 

This is indeed mainstream peace-building theory, however it may have been useful for the writer to acknowledge that there are many simmering local tensions in the world, including in Indonesia, that only erupt into violent conflict after being manipulated by external parties. He could have noted that such externally manipulated conflict is well documented in the case of East Timor, where ‘pro-integration militias’ were organised and funded by Indonesian military elements to conduct looting and murder in 1999. Similarly, external elements are suspected of inciting violence in other conflicts such as the Jakarta riots of May 1998 and the Ambon ‘sectarian conflict’ of 1999-2002. Dr Soeharto could have mentioned that resolving such conflicts could be dealt with promptly if links to external organisers and financiers could be cut. But he doesn’t.

Central Sulawesi

This chapter includes an interesting analysis of terrorism in post-Suharto Indonesia. Dr Soeharto says terrorists perceive their group to be in competition with followers of another belief system.

This competition becomes clearer when he draws on the thoughts of Asad Said Ali, who is a former Deputy Head of Indonesia’s Intelligence Service and now a senior official in one of Indonesia’s main two Muslim movements.  Ali viewed ‘Neoliberalisme’ and ‘Social Democratic reform’ as a foreign ideology that was limiting the Indonesian government’s control over the Indonesian economy and mass media, and was also weakening the influence of religious and traditional values on Indonesian society. This same ideology, Ali apparently argued, was promoting decentralisation and the subsequent rise of parochial rather than national interests. This view is not explored in detail but it does explain the suspicion with which many Indonesians viewed the socio-political changes occurring around them.

The author goes on to mention Samuel Huntington’s The Clash of Civilisations and the Remaking of the World Order, which similarly identifies competing ideologies. In Huntington’s interpretation, the competing ideologies have a religious base. Dr Soeharto seems to argue that this interpretation is more relevant to the Central Sulawesi context, where religious tensions have existed since Dutch colonial times.

Presumably Dr Soeharto’s visits to Central Sulawesi were as a member of the Indonesian National Human Rights Commission. But the focus of the chapter again suggests that the writer’s work in Central Sulawesi was less about identifying human rights abuses and more about building peace.

Kalimantan

Two chapters are devoted to ethnic conflict between Dayaks and Madurese in Kalimantan in 1997-2001. When reading of the Madurese offending the feelings of Dayaks and subsequently having their heads cut off, a westerner might expect conflict resolution to involve identifying perpetrators. Instead, Dr Soeharto talks in detail about his efforts to get the two parties into peace talks so they could live in harmony once again, rather than what they did to lay the groundwork for criminal proceedings and better law enforcement to protect human rights. 

In the province of Central Kalimantan alone, Dr Soeharto notes 419 people had been murdered, 1,304 houses destroyed and 88,164 people forcibly displaced. Though he doesn’t say it directly, the overwhelming majority of victims were Madurese.

Dr Soeharto is not focused on the victims. I recall photos from this conflict showing the corpses of beheaded children littering the streets, yet this indiscriminate violence is only hinted at through such references as ‘Dayaks who couldn’t control their emotions because of previous incidents chased and killed Madurese” and a video the author saw ‘of Madurese being massacred by a Melayu group’. The writer is preoccupied with ending the conflict ahead of seeking justice for victims of human rights abuses.

Conclusions

In fairness, Dr Soeharto does identify a solution - stricter law enforcement - to this and other conflicts. Moreover, he identifies specific human rights violations, like the killing of four civilians by police trying to disperse demonstrators in Palangkaraya on 8 March 2001. However, on the whole, the book on ‘handling conflict’ seems far more concerned with political trouble-shooting than upholding human rights.

Perhaps imposing justice in an Indonesian context is not as easy as in a western context, and likely to lead to more trouble. In Indonesia’s fragile new democracy, the risks of protests spiralling into violence are higher. Perhaps, in some cases and in some periods, the most urgent priority is political trouble-shooting. 

Certainly, Indonesia’s post-independence history is full of examples of mass crimes that have gone unpunished, including the annihilation of communists (and many others labelled ‘communists’ just for convenience), the killing of 15-25% of the East Timorese population in the 1975-1999 period, and the killing of pro-democracy activists in Jakarta in the 1990s.

But then again, many crimes committed by western governments or their proxies in recent years have also gone unpunished, like the fire-bombing of many thousands of peasants in Vietnam and execution of thousands of democracy activists across Latin America. Indeed Western governments, by taking action against human rights abuses committed by some governments and not by others, could be accused of using human rights as a political tool.

In 2014, the Indonesian National Human Rights Commission is certainly more focused on seeking justice but the slow progress in prosecuting cases leads us to question whether more powerful bodies in the Indonesian Government might still be stuck in the old paradigm of focusing more on political trouble-shooting than seeking justice. In Indonesia, ‘discussing’ human rights is a post-Suharto concept. ‘Enforcing’ human rights is still a foreign concept.

Warren Doull is a writer and ex-UNTAET staff member

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