A student writer believes greens are trying to preserve West Papua as an archaic backgarden for Westerners disillusioned by modernity.

Wednesday 2 April 2008
Is West Papua being eco-colonised?
A student writer believes greens are trying to preserve West Papua as an archaic backgarden for Westerners disillusioned by modernity. Lee Jones

Independence movements, once determined to win self-determination by force of arms, have increasingly come to rely on appeals for Western intervention to win freedom on their behalf. Rather than demanding our respect as self-determining peoples, independence movements have learned to depict themselves as victims, to appeal to Western prejudices and paternalism – with the result that, for instance, people in Kosovo are still not trusted to run their own affairs without our supervision (1). Now, in an effort to win backing for independence from Indonesia, West Papuans are even appealing to environmentalism.

West Papua was integrated into Indonesia in 1969 via the ‘Act of Free Choice’, a stage-managed consultation of tribal elders, stitched up in advance by Indonesia, the United States, the Netherlands and the UN to produce this outcome. Like other outlying areas of Indonesia, West Papua’s resources were pillaged by powerful Javanese interests and foreign investors like the notorious Freeport mining company, while its people were brutalised by the Indonesian military. The Papuan people have seen little benefit, mostly continuing to live in tribal settlements in grim socio-economic conditions. The Organisasi Papua Merdeka (Organisation for a Free Papua), armed with bows and arrows, was no match for Indonesian troops. Faced with armed defeat, the movement decided to focus entirely on seeking international support for its little-known struggle (2).

Benny Wenda, head of Demmak, a council of tribal leaders, and the Papuan face of the Free West Papua Campaign (FWPC), is based in Oxford, England. He says the OPM’s attempts to win outside support has meant moulding the movement into a form that the ‘international arena’ finds acceptable. Most obviously, this means stressing attachment to non-violence and parliamentary democracy (despite Wenda really favouring ‘tribal democracy’, when pressed). But in today’s political climate, it also means appealing to green sensibilities. In his talks around the Britain, Wenda, a political refugee who suffered torture by Indonesian soldiers, emphasises not merely the suffering inflicted on his people, but also on the birds-of-paradise and the world’s second-largest rainforest, arguing that a ‘genocide’ is being inflicted on nature.

This has attracted some rather strange bedfellows for the FWPC, many of whom are less motivated by a political commitment to self-determination than by a romantic vision of Papua as an arcadian idyll to be preserved at all costs. This includes an organisation called Friends of People Close to Nature (FPCN), who have produced various films promoting the West Papuan cause, which Wenda tours with. Their ‘ethos and statement of principles’ celebrates hunter-gatherers for their ‘non-exploitative relationship with the natural world’ whose ‘unique cultures’ need to be ‘preserved’ from ‘the ideologies of “progress” and “growth” and absorption in the global economy’. Tribal peoples, it argues, ‘are not looking for “equal opportunities” but the[y] just want to be left alone, to live as they always have done’.

They deride economic development for producing ‘a banal, homogenous pulp’, ‘eating at McDonalds, watching the satellite TV and listening to pop music on a Sony Walkman… Material abundance breeds iniquity and spiritual despair’. FPCN’s goal is actually ‘to reverse the process of development’, claiming ‘we should learn from [West Papuans’] reverence for nature… their ancient wisdom’. Its ‘preferential support’ is reserved for those who wish to ‘retain their traditional lifestyles’, and development aid is ‘categorically opposed’ while Western-style schooling is derided for its ‘false choices… the greed it teaches and the potential to pollute and erode distinctive cultures… We need tribal peoples far more than they need us. “They” show us how we once lived in harmony with nature and how we might live again.’ (3) This praise for archaic culture is also echoed by Survival International, which aims to ‘explain the contemporary relevance of their way of life’ (4).

The idea that modern society should be modelled upon stone-age conditions flows directly from environmentalists’ self-loathing attack on economic development. For some greens, primitive tribal peoples are much better than we destructive Westerners at living in harmony with nature in a sustainable fashion. Little wonder that the FWPC’s backers include environmental campaigns like Watch Indonesia!, Indonesian Friends of the Earth, and Down to Earth: the International Campaign for Ecological Justice in Indonesia. West Papua’s mystical aura as the ‘last place in the tropics’ even attracted the attention of arch-green George Monbiot in his book Poisoned Arrows (5).

These people do not support West Papua’s struggle for self-determination as a good in its own right. Indeed, some of them would likely withdraw their ‘preferential support’ if Papuans decided they wanted instead to dominate nature through rapid industrial development – the only way any people has successfully overcome poverty. Rather, they support the idea of man living in a primitive state of ‘harmony’ with nature, and that is what they admire about Papuans. Environmentalists frequently attack developmental projects in poor countries, because they do not think they should develop. It is far easier to hold back development in the global South than to turn the clock backwards in the North. To this end, they push notions of ‘sustainable development’ and ‘appropriate technology’ – often primitive, medieval devices like rope water pumps and ploughs.

There is a revealing similarity between Papuan mysticism, which arises directly out of their subsistence lifestyles, and environmentalists’ dogmatic refrain that there needs to be a balance between man and nature, which apparently Western audiences reject (6). ‘We know how to balance the ecosystem’, an OPM representative tells an Eco-Action activist. ‘I cannot say “this is my plant and I want to take it” – in my culture I must wait for instructions to take it’. He says that Indonesians who say ‘This is my power, I can take whatever I want’ are ‘breaking up our culture’. These ‘instructions’ come from the ‘landlords’ of the forest who are not the Papuans themselves, but ‘spirits’ (7). This sort of subservience of man to nature and spirits must be like manna from heaven for Western greens who want to see people bow down before Gaia.

However, it’s far from obvious that tribal people really reject the massive benefits of economic development and just want to live as they always have done. And yet, indigenist-environmentalists may exercise a pernicious influence on independence movements looking for Western support wherever they can find it. Independence leader Benny Wenda reveals that ‘before I thought, when I was inside [West Papua], people holding the radio, for instance, torch, for instance, car, for instance – “OK, I want that one!” When I came out, and I learned from those people, those groups. And then I compare, OK, what’s fit for my people? What’s good for my people? … Now I also give the message inside, OK, this is how the development can affect your way of life… So I always now educate my people.’

The FWPC’s Richard Samuelson implies that these efforts to (re)educate Papuans are legitimate since ‘the propaganda that Indonesia has put out over the years’ encouraging Papuans to ‘become modern’ makes it impossible to tell how much their desire for modernity ‘is a natural reaction when you see healthcare, or a car, or something that you actually, as a human being, you say, wow, I’d like to have that’, and ‘how much is the impact of that propaganda’. Indigenist ideology thus claims access to a tribal mindset unsullied by the dirty hands of modernity.

Some West Papuans are understandably wary of development, since it has historically been of a deeply exploitative form, imposed by people seen as invaders and occupiers. But Wenda carefully reserves the right for his people democratically to decide on appropriate forms of economic development after independence. The danger, though, is the way that indigenist-environmentalists’ rejection of modernity plays on West Papuans’ rejection of domination. For Wenda now, the sort of development that is desirable is one that ‘fits’ Papuan culture: ‘We need to have a balance between our nature and what kind of development… Any idea, any campaign, any movement, I can feed it into my bag, I can bring it to West Papua. “OK, this is mobile, this is computer, this is clothes,” and then people can choose, “OK, this is good for us, OK, maybe bush knife or shovel”… That is my dream one day.’

The greens’ exploitation of West Papua is a far cry from the demand of Sukarno, Indonesia’s own revolutionary independence leader, speaking at the founding Bandung conference of the Afro-Asian Peoples’ Solidarity Organisation in 1955; he called for ‘the subordination of everything to the well-being of mankind’ (8). West Papuans undoubtedly deserve the right – denied to them in the past – to determine their own political futures, free from external interference. But they also surely deserve the right to achieve a better standard of living than one limited, if indigenists get their way, to the import of bush knives and shovels.

Lee Jones researches Southeast Asian politics at Nuffield College, Oxford. See his website here.
Source: http://www.spiked-online.com/index.php?/site/printable/4944/

When BP set out to build a £3.5bn natural gas plant in remote West Papua, local villagers hoped for a bright future. But all is not well.

    * John Vidal
    * The Guardian,
    * Wednesday March 19 2008
    * Article history

This article appeared in the Guardian on Wednesday March 19 2008 on p8 of the Society news & features section. It was last updated at 00:10 on March 19 2008.

Recently, with hundreds of Indonesian troops just out of sight in scenes of intense security, Prince Andrew, the government's official business envoy, dropped in on Bintuni Bay, one of Indonesia's mots remote corners. The plan was to inspect BP's new £3.5bn natural gas plant. What the Duke of York probably did not know was that he had walked straight into a row between the giant oil company and local villagers.

The British firm had promised its new neighbours, who live on the edge of the pristine Papuan rainforest, better homes, long-term jobs and full environmental protection when it started several years ago to build its giant plant to extract 14 trillion cubic metres of gas. But with the gas about to flow, village leaders have now complained bitterly that the company has reneged on its agreements.

In a long letter sent to the Guardian and in telephone conversations, Papuan leaders requesting anonymity have complained that the company has blocked off their fishing grounds, attracted a flood of migrants to the villages, provided very few jobs for local people and is now siding with the Indonesian authorities against native Papuans who are engaged in a long struggle for independence.

"Everything we feared when BP came to the area has come true," claims one community leader. "People are not allowed to catch any fish or shrimps in the exclusive zone established by BP. More and more migrants are coming because of the plant. There is very high inflation because there is lots of money around. The number of local people from Bintuni Bay who work in the project is very low. Local Papuans are never recruited as full-time members of staff."

BP has been desperately keen to avoid the experiences that it, Shell and other oil companies, have had in Africa and Latin America, where oil and gas extraction has left a trail of pollution, human rights abuses and distressed people with no share in the wealth extracted from their land. The company pledged from the start to set new social and environmental standards, and to be a model of corporate social responsibility. It hired some of the best development NGOs to offer advice.

Papuan leaders say they were initially impressed when BP completely rebuilt one fishing village, poured money into the nearby communities, and employed leading environment, human rights and health groups to advise them on how to avoid conflict and bring prosperity to the villages. But as the project has come closer to opening, people have flooded into the area. "Conflicts between local communities and migrants have begun," says the leader. "The migrants [from all over Indonesia] have come here to look for jobs, and are staying. There are about 1,500 in the village of Babo and 1,200 in Bintuni. They are the majority now in all the villages," he says.

The Tangguh gas field, believed to be eventually worth more than £100bn to BP and the Indonesian government, is one of the largest in the world. Known as a "super giant", it is contracted to provide gas for China, Mexico and the US, and should last 30 years.

But the Papuan leaders, who have long been pressing for independence from Indonesia, say they fear that BP is taking sides with the Indonesian government, as they are bypassed from all the lasting benefits. According to documents seen by the Guardian, less than £30m was budgeted for the Tangguh social programme over six years, including money for resettlement and security; nearly £15m was earmarked for "consultants" and administration. The nine most affected villages in the area are being given £15,000 a year for five years, and others in the area £5,500 a year.

"BP has built 100 houses for 100 heads of families. All looks wonderful," another village leader says. "But the people actually suffer mentally from their new settlement. Their access to the sea is limited because of the company's exclusion zone, and they cannot expand their gardens. They do not have enough [space] to expand their families."

Criticism of BP's employment policy was levelled at the company last year and the Tangguh Independent Advisory Panel, chaired by Lord [David] Hannay, to monitor the project, encouraged BP to employ more Papuans and to educate the local population about the "demobilisation" process when the construction work is complete.

Although nearly 6,000 people have been employed in constructing the plant, fewer than 500 will be employed by the company after the building is complete later this year. Of these, only around 50 are expected to be Papuan.

"People's dependency on BP is very high. There will be problems when the work ends. There will be economic and psychological degradation," say Papuan leaders in their letter to the Guardian.

"We predicted that BP and Indonesia would not care about the very survival of the Papuans on their land and their nation. We expected that BP and Indonesia would continuously destroy our forests and our trees and pollute the rivers and seas," they says. "And we feared that BP and Indonesia would bring misfortune for the Papuans by employing skilled workers from outside West Papua, claiming that we Papuans are not 'skilled workers'. I have to tell you that our worst predictions and fears have come true."

BP denies that it is causing environmental damage, or that it is favouring non-Papuans. The company said it is bound by strict guidelines about how many Papuans should be employed. A spokesman says: "We think about 30% of the construction workforce is Papuan. The intention is that there will be long-term employment for Papuans. We are prioritising the most affected villages," says a BP spokesman.

But he also concedes that Papua is large and that it has been difficult to identify who is an original inhabitant of these villages. On the fishing situation, he points out that BP has provided outboard motors to some people so they can travel further to fishing grounds. "We believe we have set new standards for the BP group. There has been a lot of progress but there is no complacency," he says.
    * guardian.co.uk © Guardian News and Media Limited 2008