The Asia-Pacific Journal | Japan Focus Volume 9 | Issue 37 | Number 1 | Sep 21, 2011

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Would An Independent West Papua Be A Failing State?　　西パプアが独立しても国として破綻に向かうだろうか

David Adam Stott

Would An Independent West PapuaBe A Failing State?

David Adam Stott

“Where it cuts across the island of New Guinea,the 141st meridian east remains one of colonialcartography's more arbitrary yet effective ofboundaries.”1

On July 9, 2011 another irrational colonialborder that demarcated Sudan was consignedto history when South Sudan achievedindependence. In the process an oftenseeming ly i r revocab le pr inc ip le o fdecolonisation, that boundaries inherited fromcolonial entities should remain sacrosanct, hasbeen challenged once again. Indeed, a cautioustrend in international relations has been tosupport greater self-determination for ‘nations’without awarding full statehood. Yet Kosovo isanother state whose recent independence hasbeen recognised by most major players in theinternational community.2 In West Papua’scase, the territory’s small but growing elite hadbeen preparing for independence from theNetherlands in the late 1950s and early 1960s,and Dutch plans envisaged full independenceby 1970. However, in 1962 Cold War realpolitikintervened and the United States engineered atransfer of sovereignty to Indonesia under theauspices of the United Nations. To Indonesiannationalists their revolution became completesince West New Guinea had previously beenpart of the larger colonial unit of theNetherlands East Indies, which had realised itsindependence as Indonesia in 1949. In WestNew Guinea, most Papuans felt betrayed by theinternational community and have been

campaigning for a proper referendum onindependence ever since.

Jakarta has staunchly resisted any discussion ofWest Papua’s status outside of the UnitaryRepublic of Indonesia. However, in February1999 Papuan civil society representativesconvened in Jakarta for unprecedented talkswith President Habibie, Suharto’s successorwho was eager to demonstrate his reformistcredentials. Habibie’s own successorAbdurrahman Wahid initially attempted apolicy of tentative engagement with Papuancivil society, which included sponsoring thePapuan Congress of May 2000. This so-called‘Papuan Spring’ of 1999-2000 marked thezenith of pan-Papuan organising and solidarity,prompting speculation that West Papua mightfollow East Timor in conducting a referendumover its status. During this period Papuannationalists were also able to fly their MorningStar flag for the first time without fear of longjail terms or violent reprisals. However, ashardliners in the Indonesian militaryconsolidated power after a period of relativeweakness, the flowers of the Papuan Springwithered and Wahid was removed from office inJuly 2001.3

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Papuan girl at an independence rally inWamena, August 2011. Photo by Alexander

Pototskiy

In response to the Papuan Spring, theIndonesian authorities have pursued a dualstrategy — a repressive security approach thatalso characterised the Suharto years(1966-1998) and co-option of local elitesthrough the 2001 Special Autonomy Law,which has been used to promote greaterPapuan participation in local administration.The security approach has combined increasingtroop numbers with greater surveillance of civilsociety, and since mid-2000 the state has againresponded to flag-raising ceremonies withviolence and long prison terms. In a symbolicact, the Indonesian military’s special forcesalso killed Papuan Congress chairman TheysEluay in November 2001. Meanwhile, theSpecial Autonomy Law, on paper a much morecomprehensive devolution of authority thanmost other provinces gained under Indonesia’snationwide regional autonomy legislation of1999, was designed to assuage Papuandemands for independence.4 However, whilstthe territory does receive the biggest per capitaallocation of central government developmentfunds in Indonesia, Jakarta does not trustindigenous Papuan officials enough to properlyimplement Special Autonomy and has thereforeseverely curtailed much of the promisedautonomy.5 Its halting implementation has also

been accompanied by increasing numbers ofIndonesian migrants settling in West Papua.

So far, this dual strategy of dividing Papuancivil society and increasing the costs of Papuanresistance has appeared effective since themomentum generated during the PapuanSpring has not been sustained. Nevertheless,the frequent demonstrations across theterritory protesting the failures of SpecialAutonomy and demanding a referendum havetaken on a greater urgency since Indonesianmigrants now constitute more than half of WestPapua’s population. However, if allowed to votein a referendum it is probable that many ofthese settlers would view continuingintegration with Indonesia as more in theirinterest. This raises the question of whetherthey could or should be excluded fromparticipating in any vote on West Papua’sstatus. At the time of East Timor’s referendumin 1999, Indonesian migrants constitutedaround 10% of its population and wereexcluded from the voter registrationprocess.6 For Papuan nationalists, thedemographic situation is therefore much moreperilous, and it has also been argued that anindependent West Papua is unviable.7 Thispaper will attempt to analyse what kind ofindependent state West Papua might become ifthe territory were to follow Timor-Leste andSouth Sudan into statehood. Would it becomeanother so-called ‘failing state’, like its closestneighbours Papua New Guinea (PNG), Timor-Leste and the Solomon Islands? By examiningsome of the difficulties affecting West Papua’sneighbours post-independence this paper willintroduce some of the main challenges anindependent West Papua could likely face. Inconclusion it will examine the prospects for abetter future for ordinary Papuans, whetherthrough independence or genuine autonomywithin Indonesia.

Melanesia or Asia?

The division of New Guinea between two

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states, indeed between two continents, can betraced back to 1828 when the Dutchproclaimed their territorial possessions endedat the 141st meridian east, roughly halfwayacross the large island. During the scramble forempire that also decided the colonialdemarcations of Africa, New Guinea’s easternhalf was to be administered by German, Britishand, subsequently Austral ia colonialgovernments, before gaining independence in1975 as Papua New Guinea. However, thewestern half of New Guinea remains a colony,having being forced in 1962-3 to swap Dutchcolonialism for a much more pernicious,militarised Indonesian form. As such, thisaccident of colonial cartography has provedremarkably durable, and through Indonesiancontrol officially demarcates the borderbetween Asia and Oceania, with the Associationof Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) to its westand the Pacific Islands Forum to the east.

Indigenous Papuans are a Melanesian people incommon with Pacific neighbours PNG, SolomonIslands, Vanuatu, New Caledonia and Fiji, andare thus racially and ethnically distinct fromthe vast majority of the Indonesian population.With the exception of partly Polynesiancontemporary Fiji, Melanesian countries arecharacterised by an extremely large number ofindigenous ethnic groups due to geographicfactors that have encouraged massive linguisticdiversity and clan-based ethnic identities. Inthe case of New Guinea such factors includemountainous terrain, dense rainforests, steepvalleys, impenetrable marshland and largedistances, which have combined to createisolated communities speaking differentlanguages and developing different cultures.Indeed, New Guinea is home to almost 1000indigenous languages, with a reported 267 onthe Indonesian side, representing around one-sixth of the world’s ethnicities.8 In PNG,Solomon Islands and Vanuatu these micro-polities are so numerous that none are able toimpose hegemony over others at national level.Whilst these micro-polities have often fought

each other, ethnic conflict is usually restrictedto a local level, unlike in sub-Saharan Africawhere it has also existed at a national level,most notoriously Rwanda in 1994. Thuscreating small, relatively heterogeneous single-member electoral districts or constituencieshas been viewed as a potential strategy tominimise ethnic tensions at a local level inPNG, Solomon Islands and Vanuatu.9

Map of Melanesia

Whilst such extreme ethnic fragmentation israre outside of Melanesia, the presence of largenumbers of Indonesian settlers makes thesituation in West Papua uniquely complicated.Indeed, Indonesian migrants in West Papuathemselves constitute a plethora of ethnicgroups, representing the archipelago’s ethnicdiversity. Most Indonesian settlers in WestPapua come from Maluku, Sulawesi or Java.Despite the diversity of both native and migrantgroups, both view the distinct differences inskin tone, hair type and even diet assymptomatic of intrinsic differences thatoverride any other ethnic categorisation.10

The first wave of Indonesian migrants in thecolonial era were Christian teachers, officialsand professionals from the nearby territories ofMaluku and North Sulawesi, brought in by theDutch administration to help run the territoryprior to World War II.11 After 1945, the Dutchforced the departure of many of thesefunctionaries to prevent the spread ofIndonesian nationalism but around 14,000 ofthem were still living in Dutch New Guinea in1959, with around 8,000 being from the

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neighbouring Maluku archipelago.12 Sincemany of these middle-ranking officials hadserved the brutal Japanese occupying regime,the seeds of Papuan resentment towardsIndonesian settlers had already beensown.13 The United Nations-administeredtransition period of October 1962-May 1963effectively began the Indonesian takeover, andresulted in an influx of Indonesian civil servantsand security personnel, mostly Muslims fromJava. This too caused resentment since theyreplaced Papuans who had been trained underthe Dutch for self-governance. In February1966 a hundred Javanese families set sail forthe territory, thus slowly beginning the WestPapua chapter of Indonesia’s nationwidetransmigration programme, which subsidisedfamilies to move from overcrowded regions tol e s s - p o p u l a t e d p a r t s o f t h earchipelago.14 Between 1969 and 1989, theprogramme moved some 730,000 families fromJava, Madura and Bali to Sumatra, Kalimantan,Sulawesi, Maluku and West Papua.15

The transmigration policy reached its zenith inthe 1980s, and the number of ‘officialtransmigrants’ in West Papua is now dwarfedby ‘spontaneous transmigrants’ who migratedinternally with little or no government help.This constitutes two separate patterns ofmigration since many of the largely MuslimJavanese official transmigrants were originallysettled in rural areas where few other migrantsventured. The self-funded migrants originatemainly from eastern Indonesia, mostly Muslimsand Christians from Sulawesi and Maluku whousually settle in urban areas along thecoast.16 It is these self-funded migrants whosenumbers are rising vertiginously. In addition tospontaneous economic migration, other driversof contemporary Indonesian migration intoWest Papua are the expansion of thebureaucracy that accompanies the nationaldecentralisation process and large-scaleagricultural ventures such as palm oilplantations and the proposed MeraukeIntegrated Food and Energy Estate. Plans to

convert even more land to palm oil and otherplantation crops will likely increase the rate ofmigrant population growth. By contrast, theindigenous Papuan population is unlikely togrow much faster in light of poor healthcare inrural areas and much higher rates of HIVamong indigenous Papuans than Indonesianmigrants.

Indigenous and Indonesian settlerpopulation in West Papua17

One part icular di f f iculty that wouldimmediately confront policy makers in anindependent West Papua is the fact that theterritory has become divided into two realms -of the (mostly coastal) towns and cities, wheremigrants constitute the majority and dominateall commercial activity; and the rural interior,which is overwhelmingly Papuan, employed insubsistence farming and often only looselyconnected to the modern , cash andinternational economy. For example, data fromthe 2000 census shows that in Mimika regency,where the huge Freeport gold and copper mineoperates, those born outside of the regencymade up some 57% of the population and inJayapura regency, the territory’s biggest urbancentre, they constituted 58%.18 Whilst thetowns and cities are relatively prosperous byIndonesian standards, the countryside ispopulated by an underclass of indigenous tribeswho suffer the worst living standards inIndonesia. Since the coastal areas contain mostof West Papua’s industr ies and workopportunities in the formal economy, they alsoattract better-educated Indonesian settlers whoinvariably secure the best private sectorpositions. For instance, it has been estimatedthat these migrants possess more than 90% ofall trading jobs in the territory, and they also

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dominate the manufacturing sector.19

Papuan rural to urban migration in search ofemployment actually predates the Indonesiantakeover since it began during the Allied wareffort and increased with the Dutch expansionof government after their return in September1945. Wage labour for the war effort andsubsequently the Dutch colonial administrationwas the major form of employment for almosttwenty years but such opportunities becamescarcer for indigenous Papuans after theIndonesian takeover, forcing many back into asubsistence lifestyle. Migrant domination of thecoastal towns and cities continues to crowd outindigenous Papuan migration to urban areas,thus reducing their employment opportunitiesin the formal, cash economy. Indeed, asmigrants continue to arrive they consolidateexisting ethnic networks, which are vital forgaining choice employment in Indonesia. Giventhe relative paucity of the indigenous businessclass, such ethnic networks work againstPapuan job hunters, with the result thatPapuans cont inue to work main ly insubsistence farming. Exacerbating this divide,migrants have also achieved greater success incommercial agriculture, allowing them to takecontrol of local markets. This reality is alreadya significant issue for both provincialadministrations to handle, and has promptedcalls for positive discrimination for indigenousPapuans to better compete in the job market.How an independent West Papua deals withthis problem would likely have a substantialbearing on the stability and viability of thenascent nation state.

Failed States

In 2007 Chauvet, Collier and Hoefflerestimated the total cost of failing states ataround US$276 billion annually in lost GDP,with Pacific island nations accounting forUS$36 billion of that.20 The Failed States Index,which perhaps should be described as thefailing states index, defines a failed state as

“one in which the government does not haveeffective control of its territory, is notperceived as legitimate by a significant portionof its population, does not provide domesticsecurity or basic public services to its citizens,and lacks a monopoly on the use of force.”21 Inthe 2011 Index some 177 sovereign states areranked on their vulnerability to collapseaccording to 12 indicators, among themconflict, corruption, demographic pressures,poverty and inequality. The rankings areheaded by Somalia and dominated by countriesin sub-Saharan Africa. Timor-Leste wasperceived to be the most vulnerable stateamong West Papua’s neighbours, although its23rd place ranking reflects an improvement inits domestic security situation since 2008. TheSolomon Islands was ranked 49, PNG 54,Indonesia 64 and Fiji 68.22

Whilst the spillover effects of state failure totheir neighbours are reduced since Pacificcountries are islands, Chauvet et al (2007)warn that, “The cost of failure might be higherthan average in small islands because they areatypically highly exposed to the globaleconomy”. This is largely due to the fact that,“Both capital and labour are likely to be highlymobile internationally in small islands.”23 Theimplication is that the residents of the countryitself shoulder most costs of state failure in thePacific, in contrast to other regions where thespillover effects to neighbours are muchhigher. The same research calculated that overa 20-year period the total cost of such statefailure in PNG amounted to some US$33.5billion, or around US$1.7 billion in lost GDP perannum, whilst in the smaller Solomon Islands itreached US$2.2 billion, equivalent to US$0.1billion per year.24 If correct, this hypothesissuggests that state failure could be particularlydamaging to an independent West Papua tryingto find its feet.

Failed states are usually characterised by highpolitical instability; rampant corruption;dysfunctional economies; collapse of

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government services; breakdown of law andorder; internal conflicts; and loss of stateauthority and legitimacy. Such state paralysisallows local and traditional leaders to displacethe state’s power in their respective areas, andthe state becomes effectively unified in nameonly. In Melanesia’s case a youth bulge alsofurther threatens stability, and PNG and theSolomon Islands are the states most closelyassociated with state failure within the wholePacific islands region which also encompassesPolynesia and Micronesia. In both countrieshigh crime rates, extensive political corruptionand rampant tr ibal ism are becomingincreasingly threatening. By analysing thepresent situation in West Papua this sectionwill consider whether some of the pressingissues gripping its neighbours would likelyaffect an independent West Papua too.

Political Instability

“Melanesia and East Timor are now widelyperceived in official and academic circles as an‘arc of instability’ within which economicdevelopment has also largely stalled.”25 Whilstonly Fiji has suffered military takeovers,political instability has characterised Melanesiasince independence. Across the regionunrepresentative elites often manage to seizecontrol of the state and use their positions forself-enrichment and empowerment of their ownnarrow constituencies, usually confined tomembers of their own clans or languagegroups. The pre-eminence of these so-called‘Big Men’ is highly entrenched and feeds asituation in which locals see themselves as“followers of the state”, that is “personified asa big man . . . bound by . . . reciprocity to lookafter and redistribute resources to hisfollowers”.26 The legitimacy of such big menand their administrations derives both fromtheir ability to sustain patronage networks andfrom international recognition and assistance.As has been the case across both Indonesia andMelanesia, diverted development funds andrevenues from commodity exports enriches

politicians, their cronies and public servants,engendering mistrust of the authorities,hampering development efforts, fostering risinglevels of crime, and even encouraging internalrebellions.27

Topographical map of West Papua

The extent to which such a patronage-basedstyle of politics has contributed significantly tostate weakness and political instability acrossMelanesia and the Pacific is particularly visibleduring elections. A familiar pattern in electionsin PNG, for instance, is an unwieldy number ofcandidates and parties competing against eachother in which over 50% of sitting candidatesare not returned. Many new members win theirseats with under 10% of the vote andconsequently cannot or will not represent theremaining 90%. Intense bargaining oftenensues after the votes are tallied, with themany independent candidates trading theirvotes for handouts to their supporters. Politicalparties in PNG, and in other Melanesian states,are usually centred on an individual leaderrather than being ideologically based. Thus,political parties frequently splinter in light ofthe competing interests of their leaders, and itcould be many years before issues-basedpolitics become entrenched across the region.The inevitable outcome is a fractious coalition

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government fused together only by corruptionand bribery in the absence of party loyaltiesand awareness of the public good. Ironically,disillusionment with a fragmented nationalparliament further fuels instability sinceelectors increasingly vote for smaller politicalparties or local independent candidates insteadof the major national parties. As a result, thefailure of leadership across Melanesia to act inthe national interest is seemingly putting thesystems of democracy under threat, especiallyin light of the region’s rapidly growing,increasingly urbanised young population.

The Westminster system of parliamentarydemocracy as practiced in Melanesia has notproved able to hold elected politicians toaccount partly because the electorate seems tohave little concept of how the system is meantto operate. Furthermore, many of the MPs thatget elected have no genuine understanding ofhow the Westminster system should operate.Instead, many only care about getting in toparliament, securing a government post thatguarantees all the perks and privileges, andthen clinging onto power. A politician inMelanesia needs to pay back those who votedfor him, and a government position is usuallythe only means to do so. The inevitable result isthat politicians spend their entire term inpar l iament maneuver ing to get intogovernment by any means necessary, leadingto frequent motions of no confidence in thesitting government by those attempting to formthe next government. As a consequence, thewhole basis of democracy in Melanesia appearsinherently unstable, and illustrates theproblematic nature of grafting liberaldemocratic political systems onto traditionalauthoritarian arrangements of hierarchy andleadership.

Indeed, democracy appears to be in crisis in allof West Papua’s closest neighbours. WhilstPNG, Solomon Islands and Vanuatu are allformally constituted on the Westminster systemof parliamentary democracy, each suffers

regular constitutional crises and parliamentaryvotes of no confidence. For instance, PNG’sacting prime minister is currently facing aSupreme Court challenge over his, allegedlyunconstitutional, appointment in December2010, whilst his predecessor had been trying toinstall a new governor-general, an appointmentbeyond the remit of the prime minister. Thewidespread fraud and v io lence thatovershadowed PNG’s general elections in 2002and 2007 also suggests that democracy isunder siege. Meanwhile, the Solomon Islandshas had 15 governments since independence in1978, the vast majority of which have beenunstable coalitions in a persistent state of fluxand under constant threat of no-confidencevotes. Indeed, the very first act of the newlyappointed opposition leader in April 2011,himself a former prime minister, was to lodge amotion of no confidence in the sittinggovernment. In Vanuatu the government wastoppled in a similar no-confidence vote at theend of 2010, whilst Fiji was formerly ademocracy but a military coup in 1987 usheredin alternating periods of military rule andparliamentary democracy. The most recentcoup of December 2006 re-established militarycontrol and elections scheduled for March 2009have been postponed to September 2014 at theearliest.

East Timor also has had a difficult transition toindependence. Violent clashes flared in 2006when approximately 600 soldiers, constitutingsome 40% of the armed forces, were dismissedafter protesting alleged discrimination againsttroops from the west of the country. Thisnecessitated the deployment of peacekeepingforces from Australia, Malaysia, Portugal andNew Zealand to quell the violence and lootingin the capital Dili. Prime Minister Mari Alkatiriwas forced to resign and other members of thepolitical elite were implicated in the troubles.In February 2008 rebel soldiers broke into thehomes of President José Ramos-Horta andPrime Minister Xanana Gusmão, resulting in aserious gunshot injury to Ramos-Horta and the

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fatal shooting of rebel leader Alfredo Reinado.Gusmão managed to escape from his homeprior to the rebels’ arrival but his car waspeppered by gunshots on its way to Dili. Whilstpolitical tensions have gradually subsided sincethen polarisation ensures the nascent stateremains fragile.

Given that none of its neighbours have enjoyedpolitical stability since independence, it wouldbe a challenge for an independent West Papuato avoid similar problems, especially since it iscurrently suffering from other symptoms thatcharacterise failing states in the region. Aforetaste of instability might be glimpsed in thecontroversy surrounding the MRP (MajelisRakyat Papua or Papuan People’s Assembly), abody established under Special Autonomy to bestaffed entirely with indigenous Papuans and torepresent Papuan cultural interests. Whilst thebody is not equivalent to a second chamber ofthe provincial parliament, it does have a role inthe legislative process and in theory shouldpossess significant political authority. However,elections to the MPR have been dogged byallegations of irregularities, most recently inFebruary 2011 when Papuan civil societycomplained about a lack of transparency in thevote counting process. The provincialparliament and three Protestant churches wereamong the dissident voices expressing theirdisapproval of the MRP, whose membershipand leadership have also been subjected tointerference from the central government. Forexample, Jakarta rejected the recent re-electionto the MRP of Agus Alue Alua and HannaHikoyobi, the body’s chair and vice chair forthe 2005-2010 period respectively, amidaccusations that the pair had been using theMRP to promote Papuan independence.Moreover, the history of the Organisasi PapuaMerdeka (OPM, or Free Papua Movement), theterritory’s main armed resistance movementsince 1965, has been riddled with internalethnic rivalries that have compromised thegroup’s effectiveness.28

Corruption

In addition to political instability, corruption isalso endemic throughout Melanesia,particularly in PNG and Solomon Islands butalso to a lesser extent in Vanuatu and Fiji.Indonesia’s reputation for corruption is wellfounded too, with many observers arguing thatit has actually worsened and become mored i f f u s e s i n c e S u h a r t o ’ s f a l l i n1998.29 Transparency International’s annualCorruption Perceptions Index (CPI) for 2010ranked Indonesia and the Solomon Islands joint110th worst out of 178 countries for “thedegree to which corruption is perceived to exista m o n g p u b l i c o f f i c i a l s a n dpoliticians”.30 Vanuatu was ranked 73 and PNG154.31 PNG’s Public Accounts Committee foundin February 2010 that only five of some 1000government departments, agencies, provincialgovernments and statutory organisations itinvestigated had satisfied the Public AccountsManagement Act to properly account forgovernment funds. Nonetheless, Port Moresbyhas shown little inclination to seriouslyprosecute corruption cases, strengthening theperception that nepotism and cronyism arebecoming increasingly entrenched. Whilst PNGprobably deserves its low ranking, oneweakness of the CPI is that it does not accountfor local variations within countries, asanecdotal evidence suggests corruption variessignificantly among the cities, districts andprovinces of many states. The CPI also fails totake into account the foreign drivers ofcorruption, which characterise resourceextraction schemes in particular.

Nevertheless, most politicians in Melanesiatend to be motivated by self-enrichment andlocalism, an obvious recipe for corruption thatis a strong feature of government in PNG and isbeing replicated in West Papua. As part of itspolicy response to the Papuan spring of1999-2000, Jakarta has cultivated an elite ofindigenous Papuan politicians and bureaucratsin order to ameliorate separatist sentiment. The

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Special Autonomy Law of 2001 specifies thatprovincial governors must be indigenousPapuans and that indigenous Papuans are to begranted priority appointment as judges andprosecutors. Aside from the position ofgovernor, Indonesian settlers have controlledthe territory’s bureaucracy, especially at thehigher levels. However, under SpecialAutonomy the indigenous elite has demanded agreater role in running the territory, inresponse to the increasing numbers ofIndonesian migrants dominating the formalprivate sector. Their vehicle has been the MRPwhose members have also pushed for lawsstipulating that local administration heads andtheir deputies must be native Papuan. Althoughreal efforts to employ more Papuans ingovernment service only began in the late1990s, as a result of Special Autonomy it wasestimated in 2005 that around 35% of the civilservice was indigenous Papuan.32 This contrastswith Dutch efforts that had Papuans comprisingaround 30% of the civil service in 1957 andaround 75% in September 1962 on the eve ofthe Dutch departure.33

Special Autonomy has also dramaticallyincreased the amount of government moneyflowing into West Papua. The World Bank hascalculated that transfers from the centralgovernment to the territory have risen over600% in real terms since 2000, with the resultthat Indonesia’s decentralisation policy hasmainly served to increase local level corruptionin West Papua.34 In addition to dispersing anaverage of US$ 240 million per annum in2002-2006 under the Special Autonomylegislation, Jakarta has also provided extrafunding for infrastructure development. Thisamounted to US$ 72 million 2006 and US$ 95million in 2007.3 5 Some 60% of SpecialAutonomy funds are distributed to the twoprovincial governments and 40% to localdistrict governments but these transfers haveresulted in little improvement in health,education and development outcomes in muchof the territory. Despite having been largely

marginalised since 1963, it seems that Papuanbureaucrats and politicians have learnedquickly from their Indonesian colleagues howto enrich themselves via government positions.

Civil servants and local politicians in WestPapua have also benefitted from national levelreforms that have created new administrativedivisions throughout Indonesia under a policyknown as pemekaran (literally blossoming orblooming). In West Papua, this process hasagain been driven by indigenous elites lobbyingfor the creation of new regencies, districts,subdistricts and villages in order to promoteclan interests and gain access to governmentfunds.36 For instance, local government in theterritory had expanded to 38 districts by 2010from nine districts in 1998. Such newadministrative units offer customary leadersthe opportunity to occupy newly createdpositions and to financially benefit from theircreat ion. This has prompted greatercompetition for power and influence, fuellingtensions between ethnic elites particularly inAyamaru, Biak and Yapen, as well as betweencoastal Papuans and those from the highlandsinterior.37

The territory of West Papua was itself alsopartitioned in February 2003 into the provincesof Papua and West Papua, with a third provincealso proposed. This division of West Papua intothree provinces was also driven by indigenouselite rivalries, and led to violent demonstrationsin which several protesters were killed. Whilstthe proposed Central Irian Jaya province waslater shelved, the creation of West Papuaprovince was allowed to stand as a faitaccompli despite the Constitutional Courtruling that this split violated Papua province’sSpecial Autonomy Law. The establishment ofWest Papua province stemmed from Papuaprovince’s 1999 gubernatorial elections won byJaap Solossa. His defeated opponent wasMarine Brigadier General (retired) AbrahamAtururi, who had been one of the three deputygovernors under the previous governor. Whilst

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both Solossa and Atururi benefitted from Dutchprimary and secondary education andsubsequently worked with the Indonesianauthorities after the sovereignty transfer,ethnic differences characterised their politicalrivalry. Within the proposed new province ofWest Papua, Solossa drew support from theAyamaru and Sorong elites who had beendisenchanted with Atururi when the latter wasSorong district head. Similarly, Atururi wasbacked by other Bird’s Head regional elitesdissatisfied with the ethnically Ayamaru districthead. As Governor of Papua province, Solossaopposed any partition of the province, whilstAtururi saw the creation of West Papuaprovince as a political opportunity.38

West Papua province, carved out of Papuaprovince in 2003

Ethnic tensions and competition for resourcesalso shaped the actual composition of WestPapua province. For example, new districtssuch as Raja Ampat and Fak-Fak initiallypreferred to remain within the rump Papuaprovince since they feared domination bypolitically savvy Sorong and Ayamaruelites.39 West Papua’s creation also resulted inthe founding of 28 new regencies, among themTeluk Bintuni that hosts the Tangguh liquefiednatural gas (LNG) processing plant operated by

multi-national BP. Project development beganin 1999, and the plant finally started shippingLNG to China, South Korea and the UnitedStates in 2009. This US$5 billion scheme gavegreater impetus to the creation of West Papuaprovince, which is also home to substantiallogging interests around Sorong.

Regional ethnic rivalries over the capture ofresource revenues were also visible in theproposed establishment of Central Irian Jaya(Central Papua) province, which was supportedby elements in the central highlands and thesouthern coastal plain who feared dominationby the northern coastal elite. Given that thisprovince would contain the Freeport miningoperations near Timika, the biggest gold mineand second biggest copper mine in the world,the potential rewards were very high. ClemensTinal, Timika district head, and AndreasAnggaibak, Speaker of the Regional House ofRepresentatives, lobbied vigourously for itscreation, apparently receiving support fromI n d o n e s i a ’ s S t a t e I n t e l l i g e n c eAgency.40 Opposition to the establishment ofCentral Irian Jaya province came from theAmungme and other Timika ethnic groups, andwas closely linked to existing inter-ethnicdisputes among communities surrounding theFreeport mine over access to Freeportcommunity support funds and communityleaders’ ties to the Indonesian military. WhenAnggaibak formally announced the province’screation in late August 2003 riots ensued inwhich five people were killed and dozensinjured.

The rioting over the proposed establishment ofCentral Irian Jaya province prompted elitesfrom Biak and Nabire to argue that theirregions would be a safer choice to site the newprovince’s capital.41 This laid bare tensionsbetween northern coastal e l i tes andhighlanders over access to revenues from theFreeport mine. Indeed, Timmer (2007) suggeststhat, “Highlanders and people from the south-coastal regions (Mimika, Merauke) are often

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consumed with envy about the power enjoyedby northern coastal el ites who have aremarkable acquaintance with Indonesian waysof doing politics”.42 Whilst the local populationenjoys greater representation in districtgovernments of the highlands and the southerncoastal plain, among Papuans in the provincialbureaucracy those from northern coastalcommunities in Biak, Yapen, Sentani, Sorongand Ayamaru do indeed predominate. Thecomparatively low level of development acrossmost of the highlands exacerbates such illfeeling, and presently most violent resistanceto the Indonesian state is incubated in thehighlands region. As a result, highlanders areknown to characterise northern coastalPapuans as collaborators with the Indonesianauthorities. This could yet affect politicalstability in the territory since the proposal tocreate Central Papua province is now back onthe agenda, comprising 14 regencies with Biakas the capital and Dick Henk Wabiser, a retiredadmiral from Biak as the acting governor.43

Indeed, district heads in several regions acrossWest Papua have pushed for their districts tobecome the capitals of new provinces underpemekaran and decentralisation.44 They includeMerauke, Yapen Waropen, Serui, Biak, Nabire,Fak-Fak and the highlands as the creation ofnew provinces promises access to power andresources to regional Papuan elites. Forinstance, Merauke politicians have campaignedfor a South Papua province since Merauke ishome to West Papua’s largest concentration ofCatholics and whose leaders have long feltexcluded by the largely Protestant and migrantdominated provincial capital Jayapura. Thisproposed new province has also been home tolocally significant tribal rivalries since Meraukewas divided into four districts in 2002.45

Whilst the Papuan spring of 1999-2000 seemedto indicate that over thirty years of Indonesianrule had inculcated a genuine pan-Papuannational identity, in contrast to neighbouringPNG, “local support for partition demonstrates

that Papuan uni ty i s f ragi le and thedevelopment of a coherent territory wideidentity remains a work in progress”.46 Thedivision of the territory polarised the Papuanelite between those such as former GovernorSolossa, prominent Papuan intellectuals andmany civil society groups who opposed it andother elites who stood to benefit from thefounding of new provinces, regencies anddistricts. Complicating matters, the securityforces have also supported the creation of newadministrative units since their establishmenthas frequently been accompanied by thecreation of new military and police commands.Whilst all provincial governors underIndonesian rule have been indigenous Papuans,they have had to tread carefully with theIndonesian military, which has been the singlemost powerful state actor since the Indonesiantakeover. Greater Papuan participation in thepublic sector has also seemingly destabilisedthe territory, with the elections for districtgovernment heads, in particular, becoming anarena for political conflict. So widespread hasthis trend become that one analyst was movedto state, “ethnic differences play a significantand sometimes alarming role in land andresource politics”.47 Just as in other Melanesianstates, these rivalries are playing anincreasingly visible role in West Papuanpolitics, not just between different indigenousgroups but also between Papuans andIndonesian settlers. These developmentsindicate that corruption and political instabilitywould be a fur ther cha l lenge for anindependent West Papua authority toovercome.

Poor Government Services

The nexus of corruption, ethnic rivalries andchronic political instability, characterised byfrequent parliamentary votes of no confidence,greatly undermines Melanesian governments’capacity to effectively deliver public services.In PNG, resource revenues and internationalassistance have not translated into better

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roads, schools and health services. Despitereceiving billions of dollars of Australian aid,scant development has occurred and per capitaincomes have barely improved s inceindependence in 1975. Particularly during themonsoon season, impassable roads hamperlocal trade and fuel internal migration intocities and towns. Moreover, evidence suggeststhat public service delivery is more problematicin multiethnic democracies.48

Likewise, West Papua is already suffering fromthe poor delivery of public services, especiallyin rural areas where indigenous Papuanspredominate, and evidence from its neighboursindicate the delivery of public services wouldbe unlikely to improve after independence.Over the last decade, the indigenous Papuanmiddle class has benefitted from an expandingcivil bureaucracy and increased localgovernment funding under decentralisation andSpecial Autonomy. However, it is obvious thatthis newly empowered and enlarged Papuanbureaucracy has little ability to dispense publicservices. Since educational standards have longlagged behind those in the rest of Indonesia,there is a dearth of sufficiently qualified peopleand many of these bureaucrats apparently havelittle relevant education or experience. Indeed,it has even been claimed that primary schoolteachers without administrative experience arerunning agriculture departments.49 At the veryleast, this illustrates that Papuans badly needbetter education services.

"Special Autonomy has failed: Papuans’right to life is threatened"

Those in West Papua who advocate the creationof new administrations argue that it improvespublic services in hitherto isolated rural areasbut there is little evidence that this has actuallyhappened. Instead, pemekaran devours muchof the territory’s development budget to pay foroffice construction and the hiring of the extrastaff, with the result that West Papua has thehighest per capita expenditure on civil servicein Indonesia but with little indciation thatperformance has improved. Indeed, in 2005 theWorld Bank found that in parts of Papuaprovince the amount spent per capita on civilservant salaries was 60% above the Indonesiannational average.50 Whilst more Papuans havesecured jobs in the civil service, their lack ofeducation and training has also resulted in therecruitment of more Indonesian settlers toshore up the administration of the expandedcivil service. The territory’s poor relativeperformance was underlined in Indonesia’sRegional Economic Governance Index, whichsurveyed 245 regencies and municipalitiesacross 19 of Indonesia’s 33 provinces in 2011.Districts and cities in West Papua and Malukucomprised nine of the 10 worst ranking units inthe survey, with Waropen regency in Papuaprovince rated the worst of all.51 Interestingly,in a list dominated by districts in Java and

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Sumatra, Sorong in West Papua province wasrated fifth best in the Index.

One of the reasons for the poor performanceamong indigenous Papuan civil servants is thatWest Papua has long had the lowest per capitaexpenditure on education in the country. This isdespite it having the highest per-capita revenueof all six Indonesian regions thanks to itsresource earnings and small population.52 In2006 it was reported that West Papua also hadthe worst participation rates in education, withenrolment for primary education at 85%,dropping to 48% for secondary school and 31%for high school.53 Furthermore, some 56% ofthe population had less than primary educationand 25% remained illiterate.54 These figurescover both migrants and indigenous Papuansacross both provinces, and are exacerbated byan unequal distribution of educationalresources, concentrated in the coastal townsand cities at the expense of rural areas. Indeed,figures from 2005 indicate that the averagedistance to junior secondary schools in denselypopulated Java was 1.9 kilometres whilst inW e s t P a p u a i t w a s 1 6 . 6kilometres.55 Government data from 2008indicated that only 17.63% children in ruralYahukimo district had completed their primaryeducation. Moreover, even indigenous urbanresidents are still twice as likely as migrants tohave little or no formal schooling, a disparitythat was first recorded in the 1970s.56 Newerfigures from the UN Children’s Fund (UNICEF)suggest that secondary school enrolment inPapua province is only 60% compared to theIndonesian national average of 91%. Whereschools do exist, often there is a serious lack ofbooks and teachers, especially in rural areas ofthe central highlands since most teachersprefer to live in urban areas.

Health indicators also paint a vivid picture ofindigenous Papuan deprivation. In 2004 WestPapua had the lowest per capita expenditure onpublic health in the country, despite itsresource earnings.57 As a consequence,

indigenous Papuans also suffer the lowesthealth standards of any Indonesian citizens. Inresults published in December 2010,Pegunungan Bintang district in Papua provinceplaced last in the Ministry of Health’sCommunity Health Development Index, whichmeasures health care across all 440 districtsand municipalities in Indonesia. Indeed, of thelowest 20 districts across the country 14 arefound in eastern Indonesia, mostly in Papuaprovince. The quality of these health carerankings are based on 24 indicators such as theper capita ratio of doctors, immunisation rates,access to clean water and the incidence ofmental health problems.5 8 Geographicinaccessibility is undoubtedly a factor in suchdiscrepancies, however.

As with education, health services in ruralareas remain very poor, with only a minimalgovernment presence outside of areas withmilitary bases. Whilst health centres have beenestablished in all sub-regencies, these clinicsremain poorly staffed and equipped. Forinstance, in 2006 it was reported that in Papuaprovince the average distance of a household tothe nearest public health clinic was 32ki lometers , whereas in Java i t was 4kilometers.59 In 2009 there were only 12government hospitals, six private hospitals and213 clinics across the whole territory. Suchinadequate primary health care affects lifeexpectancy, already the lowest in Indonesia.West Papua also has highest HIV/AIDS rates inthe country. The UNDP Report for 2010 notesthat the territory has the highest per capitarate of HIV/AIDS infection in Indonesia at 2.4%,well above the national average of 0.2%, withaid agencies critical of the government’s lack ofresponse. Malaria and tuberculosis ratesexceed national figures also.

As a result of poor government performance ineducation, health and welfare, West Papua alsocont inues to post the lowest humandevelopment index (HDI) scores in Indonesia,along with the country’s widest variation in

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district HDIs.60For instance, in 2004 the centralhighland regency of Jayawijaya had Indonesia’slowest HDI classification of 47, whilst the multi-ethnic port city of Sorong scored 73. In 2009the new district of Nduga in the deprivedcentral highlands scored 47.45, compared to74.56 in Jayapura, the territory’s biggest city.The HDI also assesses how economic growth inGDP (gross domestic product) translates intoimprovements in human development bycomparing average per capita GDP in eachprovince with its HDI ranking. In 2004 Papuaprovince scored worse than any otherIndonesian province since it ranked third interms of GDRP (gross domestic regionalproduct) but only 29th (out of 30 total provincesat the time) in HDI. Newer data compiled byStatistics Indonesia in 2009 produced a similaroutcome, and ranked Papua province as 33rd

out of 33 provinces and West Papua province30th.61 Whilst it can be argued that much of thisdisparity is due to the Dutch colonial legacyand the difficulties in delivering basic servicesin remote areas, the UNDP concluded thatthese figures are “a clear indication that theincome from Papua’s natural resources has notbeen invested sufficiently in services for thepeople”.62

Given the wide cleavage between the migrant-dominated coastal urban areas and thedeprived, overwhelmingly indigenous interior,such disparities in human development becomeeven more marked. The UNDP definition ofpoverty uses factors such as illiteracy, accessto health services and safe water, underweightchildren and the likelihood of people notreaching 40. Under this definition, the HDIresearch found that within Papua provincesome 95% of all poor households resided inrural areas, markedly worse than the nationalaverage of 69% and a clear indicator thatpoverty was concentrated in the indigenouspopulation. The UNDP also found that only 40%of poor households had in excess of five familymembers, again under the Indonesian average,which reflected higher than average infant

mortality rates.63 Indeed, among children agedunder five and classified as poverty stricken,over 60% were malnourished, as opposed toonly 24% of poor children in the Java/Baliregion.64 Of these poor households in WestPapua, some 69% lacked access to safe water,90% suffered inadequate sanitation at homeand over 80% had no electricity. Half of allpoor households in the territory lived invillages accessible only by dirt road, hamperingthe rural poor’s access to markets. At the sametime, some 90% of poor households lived invillages with no telephone, 84% lived in villageswithout a secondary school and 83.5% lackedaccess to bank or credit facilities.65

Papuan children in the rural highlands,Papua province

Whilst both provinces in the territory continueto post HDI outcomes wel l below theIndonesian national average, their scores since1999 have shown an upward trend, althoughhow much of this is the product of rising ratesof in-migration is difficult to quantify. Forinstance, Papua province’s HDI rose from 58.80in 1999 to 64.53 in 2009, whilst that of WestPapua province was 63.7 in 2004 and 68.58 by2009. By contrast, the Indonesian nationalaverage was 64.3 in 1999, and had risen to71.76 in 2009.66 Over the border in PNG, HDI

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figures have been consistently lower than thoseof West Papua with worse results in all the keyindicators of life expectancy, literacy and percapita GDP. Nevertheless, the existence oflarge rural to urban variations and highnumbers of migrants in West Papua make anydirect comparisons between the indigenouspopulations of PNG and West Papua difficult.

In the poor delivery of government servicesWest Papua already shares much in commonwith its neighbours, particularly PNG and theSolomon Islands. Prior to Austral ianintervention in mid-2003, the centralgovernment in Honiara had lost control of thecountry and services had largely collapsed.Many civil servants had simply stopped turningup to work, whilst those who did often receivedno salary. Treasury officials and governmentministers were also frequently intimidated atgunpoint. Whilst the situation in PNG has neverplumbed such depths, tribal fighting in the pasttwo decades has exacted a heavy toll on publicservice delivery, especially in SouthernHighlands, Enga, Western Highlands andSimbu Provinces. In these populous regions thedestruction of schools, medical facilities andother government infrastructure has seriouslydisrupted development in the affected areas,forcing teachers, health workers, and otherpublic servants to flee to safety. Even inregions not prone to inter-group violence,public service had been widely perceived asinadequate, and even the World Bank and theInternational Monetary Fund (IMF) have voicedconcern over poor service delivery. As in WestPapua, the civil service is seen as eating upmost of PNG’s national budget in salaries andbenefits but with precious few results to justifyits existence.67 Delivering sufficient healthcare,education and basic infrastructure will beprobably the biggest challenge for anindependent West Papua given the presentrealities and difficult terrain in the remoteinterior. Nevertheless, the resource revenuesthat the territory enjoys should make it possibleto better tackle these issues, if civil service

performance can be improved.

Dysfunctional Economies

The Asian Development Bank noted in 2010that, “PNG, Solomon Islands, and Timor-Lesteare finding it difficult to diversify and stimulategrowth beyond exploitation of nonrenewableoil, minerals, and forests.”68 As with WestPapua, these economies remain heavily relianton resource revenues, being hampered by lowproductivity in agriculture and an almost non-existent manufacturing base. Even tourism,which could provide a much-needed boost tothe service sector of these economies, is heldback by the fragile security situation in WestPapua and its neighbours. Furthermore, thecharacteristics of resource dependence createdistortions that increase vulnerability toexternal shocks, such as a collapse incommodities prices, and promote inequalitiesbetween internal regions and ethnic groups.

The enclave nature of mining and fossil fuelextraction in particular exacerbates the largeimbalances in West Papua’s economy andensures the benefits are not distributedequitably. Indeed, much of these windfall gainsare highly concentrated in a few regions to thed e t r i m e n t o f t h e r e s t o f t h eterritory.69 Moreover, due to the territory’shistorically low education budget, relativelyfew Papuans secure skilled jobs in majorprojects like BP’s LNG processing plant orFreeport’s gold and copper mine. Thus, despiteits resource wealth, West Papua suffers fromIndonesia’s highest poverty levels. Governmentdata from 2010 indicated that around 35% ofthe territory’s population still lived below thepoverty line, compared to the national averageof around 13%, with income disparities also thewidest among Indonesia’s six regions. In 2002 amere 34% had access to clean water and 28%to adequate sanitation, whilst just 46% were onthe electricity grid, the lowest level in all ofIndonesia.70 In 2005 Indonesia’s Ministry forthe Development of Disadvantaged Regions

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classified 19 of 20 regencies across Papuaprovince as underdeveloped.

A large underground economy is anotherfeature of a failing state, and in both PNG andWest Papua the growing Asian presence inresource extraction, hotels and othercommercial enterprises has resulted in risinglevels of corruption and organised crime.71

Illegal logging is particularly lucrative sinceNew Guinea is home to the world’s thirdlargest tropical forest, surpassed only by theAmazon and Congo Basins. As such, it is hometo the last undisturbed large-scale forest in theAsia-Pacific, and as commercial timber stocksin Sumatra and Borneo are increasinglydepleted the Indonesian and Malaysian loggingindustry has turned its attention towards WestPapua and PNG. A senior official at Indonesia’sMinistry of Forestry conceded in 2010 thataround 25% of West Papua’s forests have fallento legal and illegal loggers since the late 1990s,with the forested area falling from 32 millionhectares to 23 million hectares.72 In PNG it iswidely estimated that some 70-90% of all thecountry’s logging is illegal, much of it due tothe Malaysian firms that dominate thecountry’s timber industry.

Most logging operations in West Papua, PNGand the Solomon Islands are socially,env i ronmenta l l y and economica l l yunsustainable since land custody is central tothe survival of indigenous rural communities.Logging often damages the self-sufficiency ofsuch communities since their opportunities togrow food, to hunt and to catch fish arereduced. Drinking water sources and materialsto build houses are also lost or degraded. Giventhat government- led development isconspicuous by its absence in many rural areas,local communities are vulnerable to loggingcompany promises of roads, schools, healthclinics, and revenues. Aside from arterial roadsto transport logs, most of these promisesusually go unfulfilled. Instead, spoiled land and

polluted water are the most visible legacy oflogging operations across Melanesia.

Special Autonomy has added to the regulatoryconfusion in West Papua as swathes ofoverlapping and contradictory regulationsissued at the national level, provincial level anddistrict level have facilitated the increase ofboth legal and illegal logging. Local timberelites take advantage of the many loopholes tosecure many small-scale licenses, ostensibly tobenefit local residents but in actuality for theprofit of timber firms. These elites can includePapuan community leaders, politicians, civilservants, military and police officers. Thesesame local elites are also thought to beresponsible for the increase in illegal logging inWest Papua province, often in collusion withMalaysian, Korean and Chinese loggingcompanies now present in the territory. China,having already reduced its own logging due toenvironmental concerns, is the biggest marketfor Papuan timber.73 Indonesia’s Ministry ofForestry estimated in 2004 that over sevenmillion cubic metres of timber were beingsmuggled out of West Papua annually,equivalent to 70% of the total volume of timberleaving Indonesia illegally each year.74 Thesituation in West Papua is thus reminiscent of apattern that has been repeated acrossMelanesia whereby, “Assignment of the right tosign logging contracts to tribal chiefs or ‘bigmen’ has led to a situation where rights toharvest are granted by landowners in return fora pittance, in terms of their share of therevenue in excess of logging costs”75 Indeed,corruption in the logging industry has becomeembedded in post-independence Melanesianpolitics as it provides significant revenues forlocal leaders to distribute to their supporters.

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Deforestation across both sides of NewGuinea

The Indonesian security forces are also heavilyinvolved in legal and illegal logging in WestPapua, and it is a particularly lucrative sidelinesince even the lowest ranks can earn moneyfrom it. The military and police are oftenemployed by logging firms to deal with localcommunities angered by displacement fromtheir customary lands and environmentaldamage. Wasior in West Papua province hasbeen the scene of particularly violent conflictsbetween timber companies and localsprotesting the lack of compensation, which hasresulted in retaliatory action by elite policeparamilitary brigades that forced around 5,000locals from their homes.76 Moreover, severalforestry concessions are part owned by militaryfoundations, and leaked US Embassy cablesreveal the private concerns of Americanofficials over the military’s role in West Papua.An October 2007 US Embassy cable quoting anIndonesian foreign affairs official stated that,“The Indonesian military (TNI) has far moretroops in Papua than it is willing to admit to,chiefly to protect and facilitate TNI’s interests

in illegal logging operations.” An earlier cablefrom 2006 cites a PNG government official assaying that the TNI is “involved in both illegallogging and drug smuggling in PNG.”77 Indeed,the removal of the Indonesian military fromWest Papua would constitute a majorimprovement in the lives of most indigenousPapuans.

The need for foreign exchange has also ensuredthat logging in the Solomon Islands has greatlyexceeded sustainable levels in most years since1981, and began with collusion betweenMalaysian logging firms and individualgovernment ministers. At present loggingcomposes around 70 to 80% of the country’sexports by value but recent estimates suggestthat forestry reserves will be depleted by2014.78 The inevitable collapse of the loggingindustry in the Solomon Islands could likelyresult in an economic shock to the fragile stateand might even lead to another uprising, as inthe late 1990s. As such, logging is a majorsource of political instability in the SolomonIslands, and similar tensions are visible in WestPapua too, with many local communitiesresentful of logging firms and their Indonesiansettler staff.

Add ic t ion to fore ign a id i s anothercharacteristic of a dysfunctional economy, andmany of West Papua’s neighbours exhibitsymptoms. For example, in recent years foreignaid has constituted over 60% of the SolomonIslands’ development budget, and it was one ofthe world’s top three aid dependent countriesbetween 2005 and 2007.79 Foreign aid to thecountry in 2007 made up some 47.1% of grossnational income (GNI), much higher than thelow income country average of 7.7%, althoughthis figure was inflated by the large Australianpresence attempting to reform the country’slaw and order institutions. Whilst the disparitybetween the Solomons and other low incomecountries in aid dependency had reducedsomewhat by 2009, the latest year for whichdata is available, the figures below indicate

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only a marginal improvement. Likewise, PNGand Vanuatu, both classified as lower middle-income countries by the World Bank in 2011,each receive proportionally much more foreignaid than the average for lower middle-incomeeconomies, as does Fiji, which was recentlyupgraded to upper middle-income status.

Despite its oil and gas revenues, Timor-Lestealso remains heavily reliant on foreignassistance to feed its population.

Regional Aid Dependence in 200980

Aid has also been compared to the resourcecurse whereby large revenue inflowsencourage political rent seekers and retarddevelopment outcomes, a fact recognised bythe Asian Development Bank (ABD) in itsattempts to promote policy reform in thePacific.81 The ABD acknowledges its biggestchallenge has been how to overcome a paucityof political will for reform in the recipientcountry, the lack of which severely limits theimpact of aid. Aid also offers legitimacy tocorrupt and incompetent regimes, enablingthem to cling to power even when they havelost popular support. Employing empirical datafrom some 108 recipient countries over a 40year period, another study argues that, “sincemost foreign aid is not contingent on thedemocratic level of the recipient countries,there is no incentive for governments to keep agood level of checks and balances inplace”.82 These findings suggest that foreign aidweakens democratic rules and corruptspolitical institutions in recipient countries. Thisdoes not bode well for the consolidation ofdemocratic institutions in an independent WestPapua since it is likely the nascent state would

also be reliant on various forms of developmentassistance, at least in the short to mediumterm.

Aid agencies would undoubtedly play a role inany emerging Papuan state and a critical issuewould be land ownership. In Timor-Lesteinternational agencies such as AusAID(Australia’s overseas aid programme), USAID(United States Agency for InternationalDevelopment) and the World Bank have beenstrongly advocating land commercialisationthrough robust titles and registration.Anderson (2010) notes that AusAID has alsobeen the most vocal agency encouraging landreform in Melanesia where it has stronglypromoted the Australian land title model.However, he argues that in many formercolonies such commercialisation of customarylands has frequently displaced communitiesfrom their land and damaged local foodsecurity and distribution networks.83 The vastmajority of land in Melanesia, and to a lesserextent Timor-Leste, is still held undercustomary laws, not officially registered oreven written down. This is because atindependence most Melanesian constitutionsenshrined customary land holding systems andlittle of this land has been sold or leased as yet.On the other hand, powerful regional actorssuch as Australia and the United States arguethat the commercialisation of customary landthrough central registration increasesagricultural productivity and spurs economicdevelopment. Melanesian notions of customaryland have also been under siege from loggers,miners and other investors, in addition tocorrupt local and national interests. Citing thecase of post-colonial Kenya however, Andersonsuggests that central land registration mayactually fuel land disputes, instead of securingtenure as its proponents argue, since elitesoften claim more land that they have rights tounder customary laws.84 As in West Papua,commercialisation can also disadvantageuneducated or powerless rural communitiessince they are vulnerable to fraud and

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deception in which their traditional lands canend up registered to someone else. Even infully transparent registration cases, secondarytraditional owners such as wives and sistersfrequently do not get listed in the land register.

Proponents claim there are numerousadvantages to customary land tenure such aswidespread employment, ecologicalmanagement, cultural maintenance, socialcohesion and local food security.85 However,rapid population growth in West Papua andacross Melanesia means that whilst subsistenceproduction remains essential for ruralcommunities, current methods of productionare not enough to satisfy contemporarynational requirements. Whilst it is possible thatsmall farming in Timor-Leste, West Papua andacross Melanesia might be sustained it needsbetter infrastructure to support local markets,to enhance rural health and education services,and to balance the raising of export cropsalongside traditional subsistence production.However, the trend in many parts of Indonesiasince 1997 has been to pursue cash cropproduction and land rationalisation, whichoften displaces and marginalises small-scaleagriculture.

West Papua has not been immune to thesechanges sweeping through Indonesia, andalmost fifty years of Indonesian rule haveresulted in parts of the territory having a verydifferent system of land tenure than itsMelanesian counterparts. Moreover, it is highlylikely that an independent West Papua wouldface many of the same land title disputes thathave beset Timor-Leste since 1999 as it hastransitioned from being an Indonesian provinceto an independent state. A pre-existing lack ofclarity in land titles was exacerbated byIndonesian military orchestrated violenceimmediately after the country’s vote forindependence, which destroyed much of thenew nation’s infrastructure, buildings, and landtenure documents. As in Timor-Leste, resolvingland conflicts bottled up by many years of

Indonesian rule would also be a majorundertaking in an independent West Papua.

Breakdown of Law and Order

In the last decade Australian military andpolice have intervened in the fragile states ofPNG, Solomon Islands and Timor-Leste tocounter a downward spiral in law and order.For instance, the Australian presence in theSolomon Islands has resulted in the removal ofaround 25% of the Solomons police force, witha large number of those charged with criminaloffences.86 The withdrawal of Indonesia’srepressive security apparatus would invariablyleave a vacuum in an independent West Papua,and would quite likely require the dispatch ofinternational peacekeepers as in Timor-Leste. Ahomegrown security apparatus in West Papuawould be much smaller than that of Indonesia.Developing a competent Papuan police forcewould be one of the first challenges to addresssince the only positive legacy of the suffocatingIndonesian security presence has been to keepa lid on some of the law and order issues thathave beset neighbouring PNG. Anecdotalevidence suggests that guns are much easier toobtain in PNG than in West Papua and thecountry is increasingly lawless. This isdemonstrated by the increase of jail breakoutsin recent years, and it has long been unsafe towalk the streets of Port Moresby and otherlarger towns at night. Even staff at thecountry’s Bomana high security prison haveaided and abetted the escape of particularlydangerous prisoners. Much of the breakdownin law and order has been attributed to theproliferation in illicit firearms, resulting inescalating violent crime rates, the increaseddeadliness of tribal disputes, and a worseningdelivery of essential services. “Largely as aconsequence of the ready availability of smallarms, Papua New Guinea is widely identified asthe tinderbox of the south-west Pacific.”87

Indeed, the situation in parts of PNGrepresents a warning for any independent West

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Papua across the 141st meridian east. Eventhough the actual number of guns in PNG isless than in other violent societies, such illicitfirearms are reportedly two to five times morelikely to be used in homicide in PNG’s SouthernHighland province than similar weapons in theother high-risk countries such as Ecuador,J a m a i c a , C o l o m b i a a n d S o u t hAfrica.88 Moreover, the social effect of firearmsin PNG, the Solomon Islands, and to a lesserextent Fiji, can be significant, with marketssuffering, school attendance dropping, and anexodus of development agencies, healthp r o f e s s i o n a l s , a n d c i v i l s e r v a n t soccurring.89 Particularly in PNG’s SouthernHighland province where the colonial regimeleft relatively little trace, tribal fighting hasbecome increasingly widespread andincreasingly deadly in the last 20 years due toan easier availability of guns, which havereplaced traditional weapons such as bows andarrows and spears. Frequent tribal feuding hasinculcated a gun culture, which furtheringrains lawlessness and even glorifies criminalbehaviour in times of inter-group fighting. Eventhe hiring of mercenaries has been a feature ofclan conflict in this region of PNG. Modernweapons have thus altered the nature ofconflict, and rendered unworkable thetraditional mechanism of paying compensationin pigs. The origins of violent conflict in thehighland provinces are multifaceted andinclude land disputes, competition for stateresources, traditional animosities andsequences of revenge and retribution thatextend back decades. Similar factors also causearmed group violence in Timor-Leste, whichperiodically surfaces in both urban and ruralareas. The breakdown in law and order acrossPNG, especially in the populous highlandregion, is also due to greater human mobilityand the upheaval caused by large-scaleresource extraction. One result is that the PNGpolice have disavowed their responsibility forpolicing tribal warfare, which is now seen as a‘traditional’ activity even when deaths areinvolved.

Police inaction has permitted an increase ingangsterism and criminal activity, particularlyroadblocks and robbery, which have seriouslycompromised the delivery of essential publicservices in many highland areas of PNG. Afurther contributory factor to crime andgangsterism has been the ongoing monetisationof the local economy, along with populationgrowth that fuels disputes by simply placingpeople in greater proximity to one other.Indeed, one of the reasons for the increase incrime and disorder across Melanesia isdemographic change. A growing populationcompounded by rising numbers of unemployedyouth in urban areas results in greater crimeand lawlessness, which in turn furtherdissuades investment and results in a viciouscircle of fewer opportunities and rising crime.Melanesia is currently experiencing both thehighest population growth rates and the fastesturbanisation rates in the whole Pacific.90 Eventhough average population growth is some 2%per annum, the urban population growth rate is4.7% per annum, meaning that the region’surban population is now doubling every 17years as their total populations double every 30years. Over half of Melanesia’s population is 24or under.

In the last decade population growth in WestPapua has outstripped that of Melanesia aswhole. Whilst Indonesia’s 2010 census foundthat the whole country’s population hadincreased at an annual rate of 1.49% since theprevious census in 2000, the annual rate ofincrease for Papua province was 5.48% and forWest Papua province was 3.72%. This madethem the fastest and fourth fastest growingprovinces of Indonesia respectively. Thecombined yearly growth rate of the twoprovinces was 5.09% between 2000 and 2100,meaning that since 2000 the combinedpopulation increased 64%, more than any otherprovince in Indonesia. Anecdotal evidencesuggests that the pace of growth by 2010 hadsurpassed the yearly average of 5.09%,meaning that the rate of migration into West

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Papua could be continually rising.91 Given WestPapua’s relatively small population incomparison with Indonesia as a whole, evenrelatively low levels of migration from otherregions can deliver dramatic demographicchange. Whilst most of the population increaseis due to rising levels of Indonesian migration,the latest census also counted the territory’sfertility rate at 2.9, higher than the nationalaverage of 2.3. Therefore, population growth,increasing urbanisation and a looming youthbulge constitute further challenges for policymakers in West Papua to grapple with.

State Legitimacy

Another result of increasing lawlessness andpoor governance is the loss of state authorityand legitimacy throughout much of Melanesia.Indeed, state weakness seems ingrainedthroughout the region, the deep lying reasonsfor which would likely be replicated in anindependent West Papua. Lacking longtraditions of centralised authority, theinstitutional foundation of the modern nation-state remains a somewhat alien imposition thatrests uncomfortably on these relatively newnations. Being among the most linguisticallyand socially diverse in the world, this regionrepresents the antithesis of the imaginedcommunity.92 Consequently, Melanesian stateshave never been able to impose the centralisedauthority that is at the core of the modernnation-state, with central governments oftenhaving minimal or no presence outside theircapitals. Where the nation state is visible it isoften poorly regarded, particularly in ruralareas of PNG. As with Freeport in West Papua,in many remote areas across Melanesia thechurch or mining companies have replaced thegovernment by serving as surrogate states thatprovide public services and infrastructure likehealth, education and roads. Furthermore, inmany towns and villages Christianity offerslinks to regional and global communities thateclipse the moral authority of the state. In WestPapua’s case, the most visible state presence in

many rural areas is a military one. Viewed fromthis perspective, Melanesian countries have notbeen experiencing state collapse but theabsence of actual state formation. Indeed, someanthropologists have even questioned the verynecessity of the state in Melanesia in light of itspoor performance and the region’s long historyof largely autonomous local communities.93

Freeport’s Grasberg mine pit in Mimikadistrict, Papua province

The absence of a common national identity hasbeen a feature of Melanesian states sinceindependence. State legitimacy is thus usurpedby regional identifications, usually to ethnicgroup, island or province, links that are seen asmore authentic and responsive. The nationstate thus remains irrelevant to most people inthese numerous micro-polities, a reality closelybound to the colonial legacy of arbitraryboundaries and a general lack of presenceoutside of larger urban centres. Perhaps themost visible evidence of state existencethroughout much of Melanesia are electionswhich, in parts of PNG for example, areincreasingly plagued by a regularisation ofillegality which exacts a further toll on statelegitimacy. In PNG’s highland provinces suchpractices include multiple and underage voting,vote buying, manipulating electoral rolls,

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violence, voter intimidation, and the stealing ofballot boxes.94

This lack of legitimacy has resulted in theviolent rejection of state authority in PNG’sBougainville region, where a separatistmovement emerged in the 1970s but remainedlargely dormant until 1988 when the pro-independence Bougainville Revolutionary Army(BRA) was established. Violence escalatedwhen BRA leaders proclaimed Bougainville’sindependence in 1989, and formed an interimgovernment. The Papua New Guinea DefenceForce (PNGDF) was dispatched to crush therebellion, and plunged the vertical conflict intofull-blown civil war. In January 1991, theSolomon Islands government brokered theHoniara Declaration but the ceasefire but didnot hold and fighting soon re-erupted. Inaddition to the PNGDF, this conflict involvedboth pro-PNG and pro- independenceBougainvilleans, and cost an estimated 15,000to 20,000 lives from 1988 to 1997. Despitereceiving assistance from Australia, the PNGDFproved unable to militarily defeat the BRA. Thisprompted PNG Prime Minister Sir Julius Chanin 1996 to contract Sandline International, aprivate military company that also suppliedmercenaries to conflicts in Sierra Leone andLiberia. The ensuing scandal resulted toppledthe Chan government and renewed effortstowards peaceful conflict resolution -culminating in a peace agreement and muchgreater autonomy for Bougainville. Some BRAleaders have since been involved in the post-peace process Autonomous BougainvilleGovernment.

Bouga inv i l l e i s l and i s much c losergeographically, ethnically and environmentallyto the Solomon Islands than PNG, and BRAleaders themselves argued that the island isethnically part of the Solomons. Bougainvilleand its surrounding islands were formerlyknown as PNG’s North Solomons province, andBougainville’s southernmost tip lies only sevenkilometres from the northernmost point of the

Solomons, whilst being around 500 kilometresaway from New Guinea itself and almost 1000kilometres from Port Moresby. Bougainville isalso rich in copper and gold, and in the early1970s a large mine was opened on the island byBougainville Copper, a subsidiary of mininggiant Rio Tinto. As one of the biggest gold andcopper mines in the world, it dominated theisland’s economy in the 1970s and 1980s, andduring this period the firm’s tax and dividendobligations contributed roughly 20% of PNG’stotal national budget. However, concerns overthe mine’s financial benefits, its environmentalaffects, and resulting social impact had beenvoiced since the 1970s, and BRA leadersclaimed that Bougainville received scantreward from the mining operations. Indeed,whilst Port Moresby reaped a 20% share of theprofits from the mining venture, Bougainvilleitself received only 0.5% - 1.25%.95 Thereremain no sealed roads throughout the island.Incidentally, the BRA was lead by Francis Ona,a former surveyor with Bougainville Copper,and the parallels with Freeport in West Papuaare stark. Papuan nationalists have consistedcalled for the closure of Freeport miningoperations since they began in 1972. Whilstvertical conflict has been ongoing between theIndonesian state and Papuan nationalists since1963, an independent West Papua might haveto cope with horizontal conflict between ethnicand religious groups, the likelihood of whichwill be considered in the next section.

Internal Conflict

Whilst PNG and the Solomon Islands, inparticular, have experienced a breakdown inlaw and order in recent years, these episodestend to be localised and do not escalate intoconditions of civil war, which is defined as aminimum of 1,000 battle-related deaths peryear. This is largely because Pacific islandcountries have much smaller populations thanother low-income countries where civil war isconcentrated. Indeed, Chauvet et al (2007)found that although 27% of all countries are

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islands, only 5% of all civil wars occurred insuch states.96 These statistics suggest that anindependent West Papua has a relatively lowrisk of experiencing civil war but the territory’sdelicate demographic balance betweenindigenous Papuans and Indonesian settlers isa cause for concern given the recent history ofracial and ethnic tensions across both easternIndonesia and Melanesia.

The fall of Suharto, and the subsequentdecentralisation of local government, wasaccompanied by greater competition for stateresources and frequently erupted into ethnicviolence in eastern Indonesia. These sixseparate communal conflicts affected theprovinces of West Kalimantan (twice), CentralKalimantan, Central Sulawesi, Maluku andNorth Maluku, and can be broadly categorisedinto violence either between indigenous andmigrant groups or between Christians andMuslims. They accounted for around 9,000deaths in the years 1996-2002. Van Klinken(2007) finds that all these communal conflictsin Kalimantan, Sulawesi and Maluku were ledby politically active individuals from the lowermiddle class in provincial or district capitals,places that were heavily reliant on statefunding.97

The first of these conflicts to erupt was in WestKalimantan province in Indonesian Borneo,between indigenous Dayaks and recentlyarrived settlers from Madura island off Java. Itbegan in December 1996, and seemsparticularly prescient for West Papua since thedemographic makeup of Kalimantan had beentransformed by an influx of both officialtransmigrants and self-funded migrants fromother provinces seeking opportunities in theisland’s booming resource sector. A secondround of Madurese expulsions occurred in WestKalimantan in 1999, this time perpetrated bythe indigenous Malay community. Dayakmassacres then spread to Central Kalimantanprovince in early 2001, and resulted in mostMadurese being expelled from the province. As

in West Papua, many rural Dayak communitieshave also been displaced from their customarylands by the Suharto regime’s granting largeforest concessions to logging firms, many ofwhich had close links to the Suharto family, themilitary or crony capitalists. As with indigenousPapuans, there is widespread belief amongDayaks that other Indonesian ethnic groupslook down on them as ‘uncivilised’ and‘backward’. However, the Dayak and Malaymassacres in both provinces were not directedagainst all migrant groups in response toenvironmental destruction or demographicmarginalisation since the Madurese were theonly target in all three instances. Indeed, othermigrant groups, especially the Javanese andBanjarese, outnumbered the Maduresecommunity in Kalimantan. Moreover, EastKalimantan province remained peaceful despitehaving received more migrants than West andCentral Kalimantan, as did other religiouslydiverse provinces such as North Sumatra.98

The Dayaks and Malays who perpetrated theviolence in Kalimantan apparently perceivedthe Madurese as being culturally arrogant,more f inancia l ly successfu l and thebeneficiaries of police protection. It seems thatsome Dayak leaders and factions mobilisedcultural stereotypes to single out a powerlessminority in order to secure new governmentposts created by the decentralisation andregional autonomy process. With close parallelsto West Papua under pemekaran, Dayak groupsin West and Central Kalimantan had beendemanding since the early 1990s that districtheads be indigenous, and after the violencesubsided many more Dayaks were appointed tothese positions. As in West Papua, this wasusually accomplished by establishing morepositions by partitioning existing districts intotwo or more parts. The Malays, havingdominated the provincial government of WestKalimantan until then, felt threatened by thisDayak political resurgence and thus repeatedthe same formula of targetting Maduresesettlers. Likewise, in many districts the

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government responded by sharing andbalancing political appointments betweenDayaks and Malays.99

The other horizontal violence in easternIndonesia during this period largely coalescedaround religious rather than purely ethnicstruggles. As in Kalimantan, the episodes ofviolence in Maluku and Sulawesi alsoconcerned communal control of localadministrations whose influence was increasingunder the decentralisation and pemekaranprocess. These reforms enabled localparliaments to elect district heads, providedthese district heads with enhanced financialautonomy, and allowed resource-rich areas toretain more of the revenues accrued. As aconsequence, they also offered much greatermonetary inducements for local elites tocapture key posts in local government. Duringthe Suharto period winning support fromJakarta-based elites had been crucial insecuring local government appointments but inthe power vacuum that followed Suharto’sresignation grassroots political competitionincreased markedly. Thus there was a muchgreater temptation for corrupt local elites toappeal to ethnic and religious identities. Thisresulted in sustained violence in Maluku andSulawesi where previously harmoniouscommunities of Christians and Muslims foughteach other for control of state resources.Between 1999 and 2002 the conflicts in Malukuand North Maluku displaced more than700,000 people, whilst in Central Sulawesiprovince as many as 143,000 residents weredisplaced from their homes.100

Protestant Church in Sorong, West Papuaprovince

The mobilising of religious identities duringthis period of political opening and uncertaintycould have potentially serious ramifications forany independent West Papua. As in otherMelanesian societies, most indigenous Papuansare Christian since European and Americanmissionaries made significant headway duringthe Dutch colonial period. Missionary activityintensified after World War II as part of theDutch s t ra tegy to s t rengthen the i radministrative control and to ward offIndonesian irredentist claims. In response tothe territory’s subsequent annexation byMuslim-majority Indonesia, Christianity hasbecome increasingly intertwined with Papuannationalism.101 Continuing Muslim migrationfrom elsewhere in Indonesia threatens toenflame tensions between Papuans andmigrants, which have periodically erupted intoviolence.

In fact, both Christianity and Islam playincreasingly significant roles in contemporaryWest Papua, especially in urban areas, wherereligious leaders are influential opinionformers. Particularly in the coastal towns andcities, religious institutions are playing anincreasingly key role in dispensing a range ofvital services to their members, such as

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healthcare and education. As in Timor-Leste,churches have become central to Papuan civilsociety, and since 1998 have been increasinglyinvolved in publicising human rights abusesperpetrated by Indonesian security forces. As aresult, Christian organisations are suspected ofactively supporting West Papuan independenceand are subject to surveillance by Indonesianintelligence agencies. Political censorship ofChristian publications cataloging human rightsabuses in West Papua also fuels religiouspolarisation and Papuan anxieties ofIslamisation. Likewise, Muslims worry that aWest Papua with greater self-determinationwould threaten Muslim communities, and theycan point to March 2007 when Manokwari’slocal government attempted to pass laws tostrengthen Christian values among itsresidents. Whilst it was not implemented, dueto fierce resistance from Muslim and someChristian community leaders, it did reveallatent religious tensions between ChristianPapuans and Muslim settlers from Indonesia.

The rising tensions between Muslims andChristians in certain parts of the territory arel a r g e l y d u e t o t h e a r r i v a l o f m o r efundamentalist brands of both religions and theincrease in Indonesian settlers since1998.102 The spread of mobile phone videotechnology has a lso p layed a ro le indisseminating atrocities carried out by bothMuslims and Christians in Sulawesi andMaluku, and further afield in Iraq andAfghanistan.103 Christians in Papua see acreeping rise in Muslim intolerance acrossIndonesia, manifested in numerous attacks onchurches elsewhere in the archipelago, whilstMuslims are sensitive to their minority status insome areas. One of the causes of communalviolence in Sulawesi, the source of manyspontaneous migrants to West Papua, wasincreasing Muslim assertiveness in the lateSuharto period against Christians who hadpreviously constituted the majority in manydistricts of Central Sulawesi province. GreaterMuslim in-migration to Central Sulawesi

altered the demographic makeup of theprovince and ensured Christians became aminority in Poso district, one of the province’smain population centres. As members of thenational majority religion and now a majority inPoso itself, it appears that Muslim elites felt,“entitled to dwell anywhere in the district andc o n t r o l i t s p o l i t i c a l a n d b u s i n e s sfortunes”.104 For Aragon (2007) the conflicts inCentral Sulawesi and elsewhere in easternIndonesia during this period were caused by anexus of “bureaucratic corruption, ethnicinequities, migration patterns, land alienation,changes in global markets for cash crops,religious proselytising, and partisan medianarratives”.105 This process might be repeatedin West Papua given that the creation of newadministrative divisions under decentralisationhas already increased the risk of divisivecommunal mobilisation.

Whilst attacks on migrants by Papuans havesporadically occurred they have never been onthe scale and frequency as in Kalimantan,Maluku or Sulawesi. Nevertheless, for anindependent West Papua the Solomon Islands‘tensions’ might also be prescient, where in late1998 militants from the main island ofGuadalcanal violently targeted migrant settlers,most of them arrivals from more denselypopulated Malaita island. Eventually around35,000 migrants were expelled from theirhomes around the capital Honiara, ascompetition between indigenous Guales andMalaitan settlers over land and employmentopportunities around the capital spilled overinto violence. Whilst undoubtedly some of theviolence was fuelled by criminality andindividual greed, the social, cultural andeconomic affects of internal migration and thedisruption triggered by resource developmentschemes on Guada lcana l were a l sofactors.106 Analysts also consider the narrativeof relative deprivation another key explanatoryfactor since the Guale militant leaders allhailed from the underdeveloped WeatherCoast, where strong feelings of inequality and

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injustice regarding the benefits accruing fromresource extract ion on Guadalcanalpersist.107 The echoes of similar tensions andjealousies resulting from uneven developmentcan be heard throughout Melanesia, mostaudibly in the PNG highlands, and have been akey factor in both the Bougainville conflict andin Papuan resistance to the Freeport mine.

Another demographic factor that is commonlythought to increase confl ict r isk is acomparatively large youth population,otherwise known as a youth bulge, the exactdefinition of which varies between differentresearchers. This theory posits that territorieswith rapidly expanding populations andrelatively large numbers of young adults (15-29years of age) frequently have to deal with highyouth unemployment where young men aremore easily recruited by rebel, criminal orterrorist organisations. Developing countrieslacking strong political institutions areconsidered the most likely to suffer youthbulge-related violence and social unrest.Indeed, in civil conflicts between 1970 and1999, around 80% occurred in places where60% of the population or more were under theage of thirty, and most countries with youthbulges continue to experience higher thanaverage levels of unrest and violence.

Other historical upheavals associated withyouth bulges include the eighteenth-centuryFrench revolution, where rapid populationgrowth resulted in food shortages, inflation andsocial unrest. The rise of Hitler and Mussolinicoincided with youth bulges, as did the RussianRevolutions of 1917. Iran was also experiencinga youth bulge prior to its 1979 revolution, whenmass demonstrations by young people helpedoverthrow the monarchy. The uprisings of the1970s and 1980s that occurred across LatinAmerica have also been attributed to largenumbers of disaffected, unemployed youth inthe region, particularly since guerilla activitiestapered off as the proportion of young peopledecreased. More recently, the civil wars in

Rwanda, Sierra Leone and Congo havecorresponded to periods of youth bulge in eachcountry. Nevertheless, researchers continue todebate whether it is the youth bulge itself thatdetermines levels of conflict risk or whether theother pressures that these territories face aremore likely causes of violent conflict. Whilstmany analysts agree that a youth bulge by itselfdoes not trigger violence, countries andterritories with large youth populations areusually subject to other pressures that increaseconflict risk. For example, Urdal & Hoelscher(2009) cite a lack of democracy, stagnanteconomic growth and low secondary educationattainment in males aged 20-24 as having moreexplanatory power than merely the existence ofa youth bulge.108 It appears that a large youngpopulation is one more factor that exacerbatesconflict risk in developing countries wheremigration patterns, poor governance, sloweconomic growth, a high share of resourceexports in GDP, and low education levels alsocontribute to the outbreak of vertical orhorizontal violence.

Along with the Middle East and Sub-SaharanAfrica, the Pacific is one of the three regions inthe world considered most susceptible to youthbulge-related instability. This threat isexacerbated by the rapid urbanisation that theregion is undergoing. As in the SolomonIslands, urban migration can inflame communaltensions because cities across the developingworld generally lack the infrastructure,resources, or employment opportunities to copewith an inpouring of rural workers. Statisticspublished during the renewed outbreaks ofviolence in 2007 indicated that Timor-Leste’stotal population was increasing some 3.7% perannum, with those aged 15-39 likewise growingsome 3.74% each year between 2005 and2010.1 0 9 Meanwhile, more than half ofMelanesia’s population is aged 24 or under.Likewise, in Papua province some 1.53 millionof its 2.83 million population were in the sameage group in 2010, whilst in West Papuaprovince the same cohort totalled almost

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381,000 from a populat ion of a lmost744,000.110 The fertility rate across the territorywas calculated at 2.9, higher than theIndonesian national average of 2.3, suggestingthat West Papua might also face a heightenedrisk of internal conflict from a youth bulge inconjunction with other risk factors alreadypresent across the territory.

Conclusion and Discussion

State failure imposes significant costs globally,and this paper has outlined some of thepressing governance and development issuesbeing faced by West Papua and its neighboursPNG, Timor-Leste and the Solomon Islands, allthree of whom have been labelled as failingstates in the past decade. These issues includechronic political instability; rampantcorruption; dysfunctional economies; collapseof government services; breakdown of law andorder; internal conflicts; and loss of stateauthority and legitimacy. Whilst some of theseproblems can be partly attributed to thecolonial legacy, the political establishment andthe c iv i l serv ice have a lso woefu l lyunderperformed since independence, despitethe fact that military takeovers have only beenconfined to Fiji. Since it is already exhibitingmany similar symptoms of state failure as itsneighbours, an independent West Papua mightbecome even more vulnerable, especially sincenumerous communal conflicts erupted acrosseastern Indonesia during the post-Suhartotransition. Empirical research also indicatesthat failing states in the Pacific seem to suffergreater loss of GDP than failing stateselsewhere. However, just as the level ofviolence and human rights abuse in Timor-Leste has diminished with the departure of theIndonesian security apparatus, it would beexpected that most indigenous Papuans wouldbenefit from a similar removal.

Indeed, a decade ago it appeared that WestPapua might follow Timor-Leste, formerlyanother territory in eastern Indonesia whose

annexation was highly controversial, in finallyachieving statehood. The Papuan Spring of1999-2000 was significant because itdemonstrated that a genuine pan-Papuanidentity had apparently been formed inresponse to the harshness of Indonesian rule.Whilst the Dutch cultivated a Papuan elite andhelped construct a pan-Papuan identityseparate to that of Indonesia, Papuannationalism has since been consolidated amonghistorically disparate ethnic groups to an extentnot apparent in neighbouring PNG. Thus,almost fifty years of Indonesian control hasensured that West Papua is quite a differentsociety from PNG, which is still riven withtribal conflict and discord. Centrifugalweakness in Jakarta in 1998-2001 presented anopportunity for a widely representative groupof Papuan political leaders to push for theterritory’s independence under the banner ofpan-Papuan nationalism. However, Indonesia’ssubsequent co-opting of indigenous leadersthrough the decentralisation and regionalautonomy process has seemingly heightenedintra-Papuan ethnic rivalries indicating that,“regional and tribal interests remain politicallysalient”.111 Further consolidation of a cohesivepan-Papuan identity would be vital for anynascent West Papuan state to avoid the some ofthe nation-building issues that have beset itsneighbours, in particular PNG, Timor-Leste andthe Solomon Islands.

Whilst Indonesia has strengthened its grip onthe territory since 2000, South Sudan’s recentreferendum on independence will give somesuccor to those who have campaigned for asimilar outcome in West Papua, particularlysince the two cases have numerous historicalparallels. Enmity between the north and southof Sudan goes back hundreds of years to theexploitation of African slaves from the south bynorthern Arab slave traders. Likewise, Araband Malay traders took slaves from coastalWest Papua from around the 15th century untilthe Dutch arrival in the mid-19th century, andBiak became an island staging post for the

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eastern slave trade, similar to Zanzibar duringthe same period.112 Colonial policy alsocemented regional cleavages in both Sudan andWest New Guinea. In 1924 the Britishessentially divided Sudan into two separateterritories, along rather arbitrary lines oflatitude, accompanied by laws that limitedpeople movement between the two zones. Thenorth comprised a largely Muslim Arabpopulation, whilst the south largely consisted ofa predominantly animist African populationwhere Islam was making significant inroads.This division restricted Arab and Islamicinfluence from the north, and under Britishtutelage European and American missionaryactivities expanded. Likewise, in West Papuathe spread of Islam was limited to a few coastalsettlements, notably Fak-Fak, which hadcontact with the Maluku archipelago. Thesubsequent Dutch colonial presence effectivelyquarantined New Guinea from further Musliminfluence as Christian missions expandedthroughout the territory, among whichAmerican evangelists became the mostprominent.

The decolonisation of both South Sudan andWest Papua also offers numerous parallels,since southern aspirations went unheardduring the process that led to Sudan’sindependence in 1956, and were largelymarginalised by subsequent governments.Likewise, no Papuan representatives wereconsulted during the negotiations that sealedthe New York Agreement of August 1962 andthe territory’s transfer to Indonesia. By theearly 1960s there were very few Papuans whoadvocated union with Indonesia given that anyprospect of a federal state had vanished in1950. Meanwhile, Sudanese independence in1956 was ruined by a brutal civil war betweennorth and south, which lasted from 1955 to1972, triggered by the Arab-led governmentreneging on promises to create a federalsystem. The 1972 Addis Ababa Agreementfinally granted the south considerableautonomy and a relative peace lasted until

1983 when Khartoum imposed new Islamiclaws on all of Sudan, including the south. Thesecond civil war officially ended with theComprehensive Peace Agreement of 2005 andspecified that a referendum be later held todetermine whether South Sudan shouldseparate from Sudan. Almost 99% of votes castwere in favour.

The internationally brokered Sudan peaceprocess was the first time other African states,long fearful of similar secession movementswithin their own borders, countenanced thepartition of colonial successor states on thecontinent.113 Thus, the Comprehensive PeaceAgreement can be seen as a long-overdue effortto repair one of the most troublesomepostcolonial borders, and the ramificationsmight extend far beyond Africa. Numerousother states in Asia and the Pacific are alsocolonial creations whose borders often cutarbitrarily across tribes, ethnicities, religionsand traditional alliances. As a result, acrossAfrica and the Asia-Pacific long-standingenemies have sometimes been forced into thesame nation states, whilst official boundarieshave also divided clans and families acrossdifferent countries where they speak differentcolonial languages. In the case of New Guineathe invisible border between PNG andIndonesia is not recognised by many of theindigenous people living there who cross itregularly as part of their subsistence farminglifestyles.

If the partition of Sudan brings lasting peace toone of the world’s most fractious conflict zones,it is a solution that the international communitycould conceivably apply in other disputedconflict zones. However, plebiscites and acts ofself-determination can also foment newproblems as they did in the former Yugoslaviaduring the early 1990s when independencedeclarations by some of its constituent partslead to civil wars as Serbian minorities withinthese new states fought to re-establish Serbiansovereignty. Since the Papuan Spring of

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1999-2000 the numbers of Indonesian settlersin West Papua have grown so fast thatindigenous Papuans recently became a minorityin their homeland. Given this populationbalance, any referendum would have to behandled very delicately. If allowed to vote, it ishighly likely that Indonesian migrants wouldscupper any chance of independence by votingfor continuing union with Indonesia. DuringTimor-Leste’s referendum in 1999, Indonesianmigrants were excluded from the voterregistration process at a time when theyconstituted around 10% of the territory’spopulation. Even if it were possible to screenout more than 50% of the population, a vote forPapuan independence would likely provoke aviolent retaliation from pro-Indonesian societalforces. Moreover, Indonesian migrants in WestPapua now constitute the backbone of the localeconomy and any moves towards independencewould therefore involve some capital flightfrom the territory. Given West Papua’s historyof human rights abuses and militia organising,it would be surprising if the military remainedneutral, especially since many veterans of thedestruction of East Timor have since done toursin West Papua. Given the costs and risksassociated with independence it is perhapsworth exploring other options for the territory,at least in the short to medium-term.

Even if West Papua were not to realise itsindependence anytime soon, Aspinall (2006)argues that a well run, democratic Indonesianstate might still be able to accommodatePapuan aspirations within a properlyimplemented local autonomy package.114 Thisignores the fact that such an Indonesian statehas yet to emerge, and progress towards suchan outcome appears stalled. Nonetheless, manyPapuans initially welcomed Special Autonomyenthusiastically, although these hopes havebeen largely dashed and human rights abusesremain common. Despite a decrease in statecoercion in most of Indonesia since the fall ofthe authoritarian Suharto regime in 1998,many Papuan cultural symbols remain banned,

Papuan civil society remains under tightsurveillance and around 100 Papuan politicalprisoners languish in jail. Even though WestPapua now receives much bigger revenues thanunder Suharto, Indonesia has missed anopportunity to bui ld trust among theindigenous population with its half-heartedapproach to implementing other aspects ofSpecial Autonomy.

To win greater support among Papuans theIndonesian state should sincerely respond tosome of their grievances. In 2009 theIndonesian Institute of Sciences (LIPI) unveiledthe ‘Papua Road Map’, which aims to addressPapuan grievances while keeping the territoryinside Indonesia.115 The proposal blends fourapproaches, namely recognition, development,dialogue and reconciliation. The firstrecognises Papuans as traditional ‘owners’ ofthe land, a long held grievance but one inwhich other countries such as Australia,Canada and New Zealand could offer a model.Papuan cultural symbols and traditions mustalso be properly recognised, as part ofIndonesia’s rich multiculturalism. Thedevelopment aspect should involve some formof affirmative action and education to stimulatea Papuan business class. Programmes thatattempt to close the gap between migrant andindigenous Papuans in health and lifeexpectancy are also vital. Both sides must alsosincerely pursue dialogue, preferably with aninternational mediator. Although Jakarta haslong been wary of internationalising the Papuaissue, a precedent does exist in the Aceh peaceprocess, which involved two separateinternational mediators and culminated in asuccess fu l conc lus ion . As in Aceh ,reconciliation is likely to be the biggestchallenge in any efforts to peacefullyconsolidate West Papua within Indonesiaalthough the Aceh peace deal has many lessonsthat can be applied to West Papua.116

A symbolic first step towards reconciliation inWest Papua would be to grant amnesties to

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political prisoners, particularly to those whowere demanding welfare improvements ratherthan independence. Many Papuans have servedprison terms for peacefully protestingcorruption in West Papua, which has increasedas decentralisation and Special Autonomy haveresulted in much larger state revenues.Another essential move would be to properlyapply the rule of law, particularly with respectto the military who continue to enjoy virtualimpunity in the territory. Any officials proven tohave been complicit in human rights abuseswould at least need to be removed from theirposts, and preferably jailed. The Aceh peaceagreement also mandated the creation of atruth and reconciliation commission thatintended to acknowledge victims and theirsuffer ing. Whi lst such a move wouldundoubtedly promote reconciliation withIndonesia among Papuans, backsliding hasprevented its proper implementation in Aceh. Agradual military withdrawal would alsodramatically improve human rights in theterritory, and would be crucial in repairingIndonesian rule. Indeed, the 2005 HelsinkiPeace Agreement offers a useful template forconflict resolution as it specified the removal ofnon-organic military and police forces fromAceh.117 However, peace in Aceh was forged inthe crucible of an unprecedented humanitariandisaster under much international scrutiny. Theforeign aid and assistance that flowed into theprovince gave the military a clear financialincentive to back the process, havingundermined previous efforts at a negotiatedsolution.118

Rally calling for the release of politicalprisoners, Manokwari, June 2011. Photo by

West Papua Media

Reconciliation is the most challenging aspect ofthe Road Map since the largely unreformedmilitary is the most powerful state actor inWest Papua and it would view any drawdownas an extreme loss of face. Whether the resultof independence or genuine autonomy withinIndonesia, a structured military withdrawal iscentral to improving the lives of ordinaryPapuans. Large swathes of the territory remainunder de facto military control, which retainsan official presence throughout Indonesiathrough its territorial system that effectivelyoperates a parallel administration alongside thecivilian bureaucracy. In West Papua, far fromcentral control in Jakarta, this system feedsabuse, exploitation and environmentalcatastrophe for the indigenous population, andmakes a mockery of the territory’s SpecialAutonomy. Whilst military reform has enjoyedsome gains since Suharto’s fall, the territorialsystem still exists as does the military’s corruptbusiness apparatus whereby the Indonesiansecurity forces are deeply involved in resourceexploitation across Indonesia. In West Papua’scase this takes the form of direct ownership oflogging concessions and other businessactivities or through lucrative protectionservices provided to extraction companies such

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as Freeport and BP. President Susilo BambangYudhoyono, himself a former general, hasshown little appetite for susbstantive militaryreform since ascending to office.

Despite the apparent success of the Aceh peaceprocess, few Indonesian officials seem willingto address the points raised in the proposedPapua Road Map, especially since theindependence remains weak and unable tocommand much international support.However, recent events in South Sudan mightforce their hand. As throughout Africa, theIndonesian state has displayed a remarkablecommitment to maintain its inherited colonialborders, however illogical or artificial thoseboundaries may appear in West Papua’s case.Unlike Jakarta’s claim to Timor-Leste, whichnever had a solid basis in international law, itscase in West Papua had appeared muchstronger. Since Timor-Leste’s departure, theborders of Indonesia have exactly mirroredthose of the Netherlands East Indies, to whichIndonesia sees itself as the legitimatesuccessor. The principle of uti possidetis juris,whereby independent successor statesreplicate the borders of the colonial territoriesthat they replaced, has been well grounded ininternational relations and diplomacy sincedecolonisation began after World War II.Therefore, the Indonesian establishment seeslittle basis for any discussion of West Papua’sstatus. Furthermore, if Jakarta were tocountenance independence for West Papua itfears that other provinces might also agitate forseparation, potentially heralding the break upof the Unitary Republic. South Sudan thus setsa worrying precedent since a threat to onecolonial boundary can be construed as a threatto colonial boundaries the world over.

West Papua is also much more important to theIndonesian state, and large multinationalinterests, than Timor-Leste ever was. TheFreeport copper and gold mine is Indonesia’slargest single revenue earner and a showpieceof the country’s vaunted resource wealth. The

OPM and other Papuan nationalists haveconsistently demanded its closure. TheTangguh project is now Indonesia’s secondlargest LNG processing plant, fixing thepuncture created by soaring domestic demandand declining output at other major LNGplants. International capital is also increasinglyinvolved in palm oil investments throughout theterritory, the status of which would beuncertain in an independent West Papua. Inaddition to their financial importance, theseprojects are symbolic of Indonesia’s importanceto the wider world and loudly demonstrate theefficacy of foreign investment in a country thathas seen a precipitous decline in it since themid-1990s. Moreover, many active and retiredmilitary officers, senior state bureaucrats andother government officials hold lucrativelogging concessions or other business interestsin the territory, in a pattern reminiscent ofIndonesian rule in Timor-Leste.119 In tandemwith the substantial tax and royalties accruedby the state, these interests constitute apowerful motivation for Indonesia to keep WestPapua in the fold, by force if necessary.

The OPM has been unable to muster the kind ofsustained armed resistance that characterisedthe conflicts in South Sudan, East Timor andKosovo, whilst West Papua’s independencemovement has also lacked a charismatic leaderaround whom local and international supportcan coalesce. This is in marked contrast toTimor-Leste, for whose independence struggleBishop Carlos Filipe Ximenes Belo and JoséRamos-Horta won the 1996 Nobel Peace Prize.Ramos-Horta is the country’s current president,whilst current prime minister Xanana Gusmãois another charismatic personality whocommanded the Fretilin armed resistance. InWest Papua’s case the independence movementhas long been fractious, riven with ethnicdivisions and lacking similar strong leadership.This has particularly been the case with theOPM, which has conducted the most persistentresistance to Indonesian rule. In addition, theOPM has been unable to muster the kind of

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sustained armed resistance that characterisedthe conflicts in South Sudan, East Timor andKosovo. Such a situation is a concernconsidering that Indonesia’s democratictransition has been plagued by violencebetween competing ethnic groups, oftenbetween indigenous groups and migrants fromelsewhere in Indonesia. Whilst vertical conflict,that is between the state and separatists, hasbeen occuring since 1963, West Papua has notyet witnessed large-scale horizontal conflictbetween migrants and indigenous groups.However, the religious divide between themostly Muslim migrants and mostly Christianindigenous Papuans has increasinglythreatened to spill over into violence since newhardline versions of both religions beganarriving and proselytising in West Papua after1998. Christian Papuans are especiallyconcerned that Jakarta appears to be leaningtowards a less tolerant vision of Islamicorthodoxy, a trend that has negatively impactedChristians elsewhere in Indonesia. Whereasmany Muslim migrants firmly support ofcentral rule from Jakarta, many indigenousPapuans believe that Special Autonomy is justw indow dres s ing and has no t beenimplemented properly.

Therefore, it seems that the chief hope forindependence, or even a more meaningful formof self-governance, is international pressure.For an independence or secession movement tosucceed it is crucial for it to gain tractionwithin influential foreign states that supportthe cause on moral or other grounds. SouthSudan was able to secure independence largelydue to pressure from the African Union, theEuropean Union and the United States. Timor-Leste’s annexation by Indonesia in 1975 wasnever recognised by the United Nations.However, there is no question of ASEANpressuring Indonesia, whilst the attitude of themajor powers towards West Papua remainsessentially the same as it was in the 1960s.Despite evidence to the contrary, Indonesia isstill seen as too large, too powerful and too

important to antagonise. In a communiqué backto London in 1968, the British Embassy inWashington considered it unimaginable, “theUS, Japanese, Dutch or Australian governmentputting at risk their economic and politicalrelations with Indonesia on a matter ofprinciple involving a relatively small number ofprimitive peoples”.120 The donor community hassince had many opportunities to press Jakartaon West Papua, particularly during the Asianeconomic crisis of the late 1990s, but has takenno meaningful act ion. Moreover, theIndonesian military response to Timor-Leste’sindependence vote demonstrated that a largemultinational military intervention would likelybe needed in West Papua too, and the squalidrole played by the United States and the UnitedNations in the Indonesian takeover constitutesanother major obstacle to internationalsupport.

Nonetheless, causes for optimism do exist. ForMatsuno (2011) the cases of South Sudan,Kosovo and Timor-Leste “suggest that state andmorality are seen more related to each otherthan before, and this explains the fact thatwhat’s happening within the borders of asovereign state is increasingly underinternational scrutiny”.121 As such, they alsoindicate that a normative shift in internationalthinking on rights issues has taken place sinceRwanda in 1994, as evidenced by theemergence of the responsibility to protect (RtP)doctrine and a greater willingness to intervenein humanitarian crises. However, theinternational community has proven unable toapply RtP to economically or politicallypowerful states, such as Russia and China,highlighting the limits of the doctrine andraising doubts over its implementation againstIndonesian misrule in West Papua. Indonesia in1999 was reeling from the effects of the Asianeconomic crisis and a difficult transition fromauthoritarianism, whereas now it appears amuch more stable inclusive state that was evenelected to chair the United Nations Commissionon Human Rights (UNCHR) in 2005. The

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continuing plight of Papuans in their homelandunderlines concerns that the RtP doctrine isonly applied sporadically and selectively to thehighest profile cases in weak states. Forinstance, both of Sudan’s civil wars combinedcost 2.4 million lives and displaced another fourmillion people in one of the worst conflictssince World War II, whilst an estimated300,000 Timorese died due to Indonesianmisrule (1975-1999), from a population ofaround 850,000. The 1991 Santa Cruzmassacre in Dili was filmed and photographedby foreign journalists, reminding the world ofthe largely forgotten East Timor conflict.Likewise, the Aceh peace deal was forgedunder unprecedented international scrutiny inthe wake of the Indian Ocean tsunami. Theindependence movement in West Papua has nothad any comparable events that have capturedthe world’s attention, despite the fact thatIndonesian misrule has resulted in around100,000 Papuan deaths since 1963. Anestimated 30,000 of these died prior to theterritory’s formal incorporation into Indonesiain 1969, and whilst unlawful killings still occurin West Papua they are on smaller scale sincethe fall of Suharto in 1998.122 Nevertheless,various analysts have described the effects ofcontinuing military operations and Papuandemographic drowning as genocide, and otherrights abuses remain common.123 If charges ofIndonesian genocide against Papuans becomemore accepted then Indonesia will likely facegreater outside pressure over West Papua.

Indeed, Matsuno has identified another factorthat is becoming increasingly relevant toquestions of secession in West Papua andelsewhere, namely a failure in governing adisputed territory. This moral dimension behindself-determination, what the author terms a“sh i f t in construct ion o f sovere ignresponsibility” apparently worked in favour ofTimor-Leste. Thus, Matsuno argues that, “theworld now tends to see the issue of self-determination not in terms of its originall ega l i t y a lone but more in te rms o f

contemporary situations of functioning moralitywithin the state borders”.124 He draws parallelsbetween the present reality in West Papua andTimor-Leste in the late 1980s, in which, “Therewere serious human rights abuses, the areawas closed to foreign media, (an) influx ofmigrants was marginalising locals and causingsimmering resentment, local leaders began tothink that the government policies had failed,and there was an emerging young generationof locals who were educated under theIndonesian system as Indonesian children(who) nonetheless refused to identifythemselves as Indonesians”.125 On the otherhand, however, it should be recognised thatTimorese independence was not wholly due tointernational pressure but more of amiscalculation by Habibie that his interestswould be better served by granting areferendum, which the maverick politician fullyexpected Indonesia to win.

Despite the problems that an independent WestPapua would inevitably face, South Sudan is ina much more precarious situation as most of itsvillages have no electricity or running water,and few sealed roads exist anywhere in thecountry. Moreover, West Papua’s neighboursPNG, the Solomon Islands, Fiji and Vanuatuhave so far remained intact, despite thedifficulties in governing ethnically diverse andgeographically scattered populations. One ofthe arguments advanced by Jakarta and itssupporters against Timor-Leste’s independencewas that Indonesia’s then 27th province waseconomically unviable and incapable ofgoverning itself. Whilst independent Timor-Leste has suffered setbacks and remainsfragile, the situation has improved markedlysince the Indonesian military left. A similaroutcome in West Papua, whether the result ofindependence or w i th in a proper lyimplemented autonomy package, would be amajor breakthrough for ordinary Papuans giventhat Timor-Leste’s indigenous population arenow doing much better than their Papuancounterparts.

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For more background to West Papua’s troubledmodern history see David Adam Stott(https://apjjf.org/-David_Adam-Stott/3499),Indonesian Colonisation, Resource Plunder andW e s t P a p u a n G r i e v a n c e s .(https://apjjf.org/-David_Adam-Stott/3499)

David Adam Stott is an associate professor atthe University of Kitakyushu, Japan and anAsia-Pacific Journal associate. His work centerson the political economy of conflict anddevelopment in Southeast Asia, Japan’srelations with the region, and natural resourceissues in the Asia-Pacific.

Recommended citation: David Adam Stott,'Would An Independent West Papua Be AFailing State?,' The Asia-Pacific Journal Vol 9,Issue 37 No 1, September 12, 2011.

Notes

1 Chris Ballard, 1999. ‘Blanks in the writing:possible histories for West New Guinea’,Journal of Pacific History, 34:2, p. 149.

2 Russia and China being the major exceptions.Nonetheless, some 76 UN member statesrecognise Kosovo’s independence and it hasbecome a full member of the IMF and theWorld Bank.

3 Marcus Mietzner, 2009. Military Politics,Islam, and the State in Indonesia: FromTurbulent Transi t ion to Democrat icConsolidation , KITLV Press, Leiden.

4 The Special Autonomy Law, implemented inJanuary 2002, specifies that the Papuanprovincial authority can keep 70% of its oil andgas royalties, and 80% of mining, forestry andfisheries royalties. However, much of thiswindfall has been squandered on expanding thecivil service. The only other province to be

granted exceptional autonomy terms has beenAceh.

5 R i c h a r d C h a u v e l(http://inside.org.au/filep-karma-and-the-fight-for-papuas-future/), 2011.‘Filep Karma and thefight for Papua’s future’, Inside Story, April 6.

6 I am grateful to Geoffrey Gunn for bringingthis point to my attention.

7 S e e , f o r e x a m p l e : J o h n R o s k a m(http://www.ipa.org.au/news/1136/free-west-papua-not-viable/pg/18), 2006. ‘Free West Papuanot viable,’ Australian Financial Review, April21.

8 Duane Ruth-Hefferbower, 2002. ‘Indonesia:out of one, many?’, The Fletcher Forum ofWorld Affairs, 26:2, p. 228.

9 Ben Reilly, 2001. Democracy in dividedsocieties: electoral engineering for conflictmanagement,　　Cambridge University Press,p.188.

1 0 S t u a r t U p t o n(http://www.papuaweb.org/dlib/s123/upton/_phd.pdf), 2009a. Impact of Migration on thePeople of Papua, Indonesia, PhD thesis, p.456.Whilst genetically mixed Melanesianpopulations also exist in parts of easternIndonesia, especially in West Timor andMaluku, their links to other Melanesianpopulations in the Pacific are somewhattenuous and they are sometimes described as‘Indo-Melanesian’.

11 C.L.M. Penders, 2002. The West New GuineaDebacle: Dutch Decolonisation and Indonesia,1945-1962, Crawford House, Adelaide, p.89.Christians from these areas generally had a

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much closer association with the colonialadministration than other ethnic groups in theNetherlands East Indies.

12 Rodd McGibbon, 2004. Plural Society in Peril:Migration, Economic Change, and the PapuaConflict, East-West Center, Washington.

13 Penders 2002, p.135.

14 Robin Osborne, 1985. Indonesia’s SecretWar: The Guerilla Struggle in Irian Jaya, Allenand Unwin, Sydney, p.37.

15 Thomas Leinbach et al., 1992. ‘EmploymentBehavior and the Family in IndonesiaTransmigration,’ Annals of the Association ofAmerican Geographers, 82:1.

1 6 S t u a r t U p t o n(http://www.insideindonesia.org/edition-97/a-disaster-but-not-genocide), 2009b. ‘A disaster,but not genocide’, Inside Indonesia 97.

1 7 F i g u r e s f r o m J i m E l m s l i e(http://sydney.edu.au/arts/peace_conflict/docs/Papua_Desk_wp_and_demographics.pdf) ,‘Demographic transition in West Papua andclaims of genocide,’ 2008. Elmslie uses thenational data for 1971 and 1990 and theprovincial authority data for 2005. Heextrapolates the breakdown betweenindigenous and non-indigenous for 1971 and1990 on the basis of language use.

18 Upton 2009a, p.298. In this case migrantmeans born outside of that regency, the vastmajority of whom were born outside of WestPapua since indigenous migration around theterritory is relatively insignificant.

19 Upton, 2009b.

2 0 L i s a C h a u v e t(http://www.wider.unu.edu/publications/working - p a p e r s / r e s e a r c h -papers/2007/en_GB/rp2007-16/), Paul Collierand Anke Hoeffler, 2007. ‘Paradise Lost TheCosts of State Failure in the Pacific’, UNU-WIDER Research Paper 16.

21 Washington-based think tank Fund for Peaceand bimonthly magazine Foreign Policy havecollaborated to produce these rankings since2005.

22 There was insufficient data available toperform reasonable analysis on Vanuatu.

23 Chauvet et al, 2007.

24 Chauvet et al, 2007.

2 5 G a r t h L u k e(http://www.realityofaid.org/userfiles/roareports/roareport_fada78686d.pdf), no date.‘Australian Aid: A Mixed Bag’, AustralianCouncil for International Development (ACFID).

26 This anthropologist was referring to thesituation in the Southern Highlands Province ofPapua New Guinea but it appears equally truefor most of Melanesia. See Jeffrey Clark,‘Imagining the state, or tribalism and the artsof memory in the highlands of Papua NewGuinea’, in Nicholas Thomas and Ton Otto(eds.), 1997. Narratives of Nation in the SouthPacific. Harwood Academic Publishers,Amsterdam pp. 65-90.

27 The ‘big man’ syndrome does not apply toTimor-Leste as much as PNG or the Solomons.

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28 Peter Savage, 1978. ‘The Nationalist Strugglein West Irian: The Divisions Within theLiberation’, Journal of Sociology, 14:2.

2 9 See, for example: Richard Robison(http://www.iias.nl/nl/40/IIAS_NL40_13.pdf),2006. ‘Corruption, collusion and nepotism afterSuharto: Indonesia’s past or future?’, IIASNewsletter 40.

3 0 S e e T r a n s p a r e n c y . o r g(http://www.transparency.org). A ranking of178 i s mos t corrupt . TransparencyInternational defines corruption as “the abuseof entrusted power for private gain”.

31 Since the 2006 military coup Fiji has notbeen listed among the 178 countries. However,Juris Gulbis, director of the organisation’s Fijioffice says that the public perception ofcorruption has improved since the militaryt a k e o v e r . L i n k(http://www.transparencyfij i .org).

32 Jaap Timmer, 2007. ‘Erring Decentralisationand Elite Politics in Papua’ in Henk SchulteNordholt and Gerry van Klinken (eds.),Renegotiating Boundaries : Local politics inPost-Suharto Indonesia, KITLV Press, Leiden,pp. 459-482.

33 Savage 1978, p.143.

34 The World Bank. 2009. Investing in theF u t u r e o f P a p u a a n d W e s t P a p u a :Infrastructure for Sustainable Development.The World Bank, Jakarta.

3 5 J . B u d i H e r n a w a n(http://cigj.anu.edu.au/cigj/link_documents/IssuesPaper16.pdf), 2011. Managing PapuanExpectations. After Handing Back Special

Autonomy. Centre for International Governanceand Justice, Regulatory Institutions Network,Australian National University, Issues Paper16.

36 Timmer, 2007.

37 ibid.

38 ibid.

39 ibid.

40 Richard Chauvel and Ikrar Nusa Bhakti(http://www.eastwestcenter.org/fileadmin/stored/pdfs/PS005.pdf), 2004. The Papua Conflict:Jakarta’s Perceptions and Policies, East-WestCenter, Washington p.41.

4 1 R i c h a r d C h a u v e l(http://www.eastwestcenter.org/fileadmin/stored/pdfs/PS014.pdf), 2005. Constructing PapuanNationalism: History, Ethnicity and Adaption,East-West Center, Washington p.77.

42 Timmer, 2007.

43 The Jakarta Post, SBY to discuss formation ofnew Central Papua province, August 7, 2011.

44 In justifying the division proponents cite thecase of PNG, almost similar in size to WestPapua, which consists of 20 provinces and apopulation of 5.2 million people.

45 For more details see International CrisisGroup (ICG), 2007. ‘Indonesian Papua: A LocalPerspective on the Conflict’, Asia Briefing 66.

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46 Chauvel and Bhakti, 2004, p.40.

47 Timmer, 2007, p.461.

4 8 A l e x a n d r e M a r c(http://siteresources.worldbank.org/EXTDEVDIALOGUE/Resources/537297-1265829764730/Del_Services_in_Multicultural_Societies.pdf),2010. Delivering Services in MulticulturalSocieties, The World Bank, Washington.

49 Stuart Upton, 2006. ‘A cultural carnival?Observing social change in Papua’, InsideIndonesia 86

5 0 W o r l d B a n k(http://siteresources.worldbank.org/INTINDONESIA/Resources/Publication/280016-1106130305439/PEACH_eng.pdf), 2005. Papua PublicExpenditure Analysis.

5 1 V I V A n e w s(http://us.en.vivanews.com/news/read/225197-ten-cities-of-worst-economic-governance), TenRegencies Score Poor Governance Index, June7, 2011. This survey is based on nineindicators: regional infrastructure; businessexpansion programs; interactions access toland between the government and business;transaction fees; business licensing; securityand business conflict resolution efforts; thecapacity and integrity of the head of the region;and local regulations.

5 2 W o r l d B a n k(http://web.worldbank.org/WBSITE/EXTERNAL/COUNTRIES/EASTASIAPACIFICEXT/INDONESIAEXTN/0,,contentMDK:21158505~pagePK:141137~piPK:141127~theSitePK:226309,00.html), 2006. Indonesia Poverty Analysis Program.

53 ibid.

54 ibid.

55 ibid.

56 Upton, 2009a.

57 United Nations Development Program(UNDP), 2004. Indonesia Human DevelopmentReport 2004.

58 Elisabeth Oktofani, 2010. ‘Magelang ScoresHigh, Papua Low In Health Survey’, TheJakarta Globe

December 1.

59 World Bank, 2006.

6 0 B a d a n P u s a t S t a t i s t i k P a p u a(http://papua.bps.go.id/) (Statistics Papua).

61 BPS Papua (http://papua.bps.go.id/).

62 UNDP, 2004.

63 ibid.

64 ibid.

65 ibid.

66 Badan Pusat Statistik Republik Indonesia(http://www.bps.go.id/tab_sub/view.php?tabel=1&daftar=1&id_subyek=26¬ab=2) (StatisticsIndonesia).

67 Hela Hengene Payani, 2000. ‘SelectedProblems in the Papua New Guinean Public

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S e r v i c e ’ , A s i a n J o u r n a l o f P u b l i cAdministration , 22:2.

68 ibid, p.22.

69 Budy Resosudarmo, Lydia Napitupulu andChris Manning, 2009. ‘Papua II: Challenges forPublic Administration and Economic PolicyUnder Special Autonomy’ in Budy Resosudarmoand Frank Jotzo (eds.) Working with Natureagainst Poverty, Institute of Southeast AsianStudies (ISEAS), Singapore, pp. 59-73.

70 UNDP 2004.

71 Ron Crocombe, 2007. Asia in the Pacific:Replacing the West. IPS Publications, Suva pp.64, 134

7 2 E I A a n d T e l a p a k(http://www.eia-global.org/PDF/Report-RogueTraders-July10.pdf), 2010. Rogue Traders: TheMurky Business of Merbau Timber Smugglingin Indonesia.

73 EIA and Telapak, 2005

74 South China Morning Post, 2004. Indonesia:Illegal Loggers Turn to Papua, November 14.

75 Ron Duncan and Ila Temu, 1997. ‘Trade,investment and sustainable development of

natural resources in the Pacific: the case of fishand timber’, in Enhancing cooperation in tradeand investment between Pacific IslandCountries and economies of East and South-East Asia, Economic and Social Commission forAsia and the Pacific, United Nations, Volume 1,p.176.

7 6 Chris Ballard, 2002. ‘The Denial ofTraditional Land Rights in West Papua’,Cultural Survival Quarterly 26:3, pp. 39-43.

77 ibid.

78 Matthew Allen, and Sinclair Dinnen, 2010.‘The North down under: antinomies of conflictand intervention in Solomon Islands’, Conflict,Security & Development, 10:3, p. 305.

7 9 T h e W o r l d B a n k(http://data.worldbank.org/data-catalog/world-development-indicators), World DevelopmentIndicators 2011.

8 0 The World Bank, World DevelopmentIndicators 2011. Net ODA received per capita isrepresented in current US$.

8 1 A s i a n D e v e l o p m e n t B a n k(http://www.adb.org/Documents/Books/adb-pacif i c - a p p r o a c h - 2 0 1 0 - 2 0 1 4 / A D B - P a c i f i c -Approach-2010-2014.pdf) (ABD), 2009. ADB’sPacific Approach 2010-2014.

82 Simeon Djankov, Jose G. Montalvo and MartaReynal-Querol, 2008. ‘The Curse of Aid’,Journal of Economic Growth 13:3, pp.169–94.

83 Tim Anderson, 2010. ‘Land reform’ in TimorLeste? Why the Constitution is worthdefending’, in Michael Leach, Nuno CanasMendes, Antero B. da Silva, Alarico da CostaXimenes and Bob Boughton (Eds) Hatene konaba/ Compreender/ Understanding/ MengertiTimor-Leste, Swinburne Press, Melbourne, pp.213-218.

84 ibid.

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85 ibid.

86 Sinclair Dinnen, Abby McLeod and GordonPeake, 2006. ‘Police-building in Weak States:Australian Approaches in Papua New Guineaand Solomon Islands’. Civil Wars 8:2, pp.87-108.

87 Philip Alpers, 2008. ‘Papua New Guinea:Small Numbers, Big Fuss, Real Results’.Contemporary Security Policy 29:1, p. 151.

88 ibid, p. 153.

89 ibid, p. 154.

90 Secretariat of the Pacific Community(http://www.spc.int/sdp/), 2011. Statistics forDevelopment.

9 1 J i m E l m s l i e(http://sydney.edu.au/arts/peace_conflict/docs/working_papers/West_Papuan_Demographics_in_2010_Census.pdf), 2010. ‘West PapuanDemographic Transition and the 2010Indonesian Census:

“Slow Motion Genocide” or not?’

9 2 Benedict Anderson, 1991. ImaginedCommunities: Reflections on the Origin andSpread of Nationalism, Verso, London and NewYork.

93 Nicholas Thomas and Ton Otto (eds), 1997.Narratives of Nation in the South Pacific.Harwood Academic Publishers, Amsterdam.

9 4 John Vail, 2007. ‘Community-BasedDevelopment in Tari - Present and Prospects’ inNicole Haley & R.J May (eds.), Conflict and

Resource Development in the SouthernHighlands of Papua New Guinea, AustralianNational University, Canberra, p. 108.

9 5 R o r y E w i n(http://speedysnail.com/pacific/bougainville.html), 1999. The Bougainville Conflict, Lecture tothe Australian Defence Force Academy.

96 Chauvet et al, 2007.

97 Gerry van Klinken, 2007. Communal Violenceand Democratization in Indonesia: Small TownWars. Routledge, London.

98 ibid.

99 ibid.

1 0 0 F i g u r e s f r o m h e r e(http://www.internal-displacement.org/).

1 0 1 Ironically, the arrival of Christianmissionaries from 1855 onwards also advancedthe use of Malay as a lingua franca since theycould not initially speak the local languages.Until then Malay had only been spoken in NewGuinea by Muslim traders, bird hunters andofficials from neighbouring Tidore.

102 ICG, 2008 ‘Indonesia: Communal Tensions inPapua’ Asia Report 154, June 16, pp. 7-9.

103 ibid, p. 9.

104 Lorraine Aragon, 2007. ‘Elite Competition inCentral Sulawesi’ in Henk Schulte Nordholtand Gerry van Klinken (eds.), RenegotiatingBoundaries: Local politics in Post-SuhartoIndonesia, KITLV Press, Leiden, p.50.

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105 ibid, p.50

106 Allen and Dinnen 2010, p.309. Externalpressures on local patronage networks, such assagging demand for Solomons log exportsduring the late 1990s Asian economic crisis,might also have played a role in raisingtensions in the Solomons during this period.

107 Matthew Allen and Sinclair Dinnen, 2010.‘The North Down Under: Antinomies of Conflictand Intervention in Solomon Islands.’ Conflict,Security and Development 10:3, pp. 308-309.

108 Henrik Urdal and Kristian Hoelscher, 2009.‘Urban Youth Bulges and Social Disorder: AnEmpirical Study of Asian and Sub-SaharanAfrican Cities’, Policy Research Working Paper,Washington, DC

109 International Organization for Migration,2008. ‘Situation Report on InternationalMigration in East and South-East Asia’,B a n g k o k .http://www.unicef.org/eapro/IOM_Situation_Report_-_Final.pdf

1 1 0 S t a t i s t i c s f r o m B P S P a p u a(http://papua.bps.go.id/) and BPS Papua Barat(http://irjabar.bps.go.id/).

111 Chauvel, 2005 p. xi.

112 See, for example: J. Sollewijn Gelpke, 1994.‘The report of Miguel Roxo de Brito of hisvoyage in 1581-1582 to the Raja Ampat, theMacCluer Gulf and Seram’, Bijdragen tot deTaal-, Land- en Volkenkunde 150:1, pp.123-145.

113 Eritrea broke away from Ethiopia in 1993

but was previously a separate state before itwas federated.

114 Edward Aspinall, 2006. ‘Selective Outrageand Unacknowledged Fantasies: Re-thinkingPapua, Indonesia and Australia’, Policy andSociety 25:4.

115 The Papua Road Map can be downloadedf r o m h e r e(http://www.arts.usyd.edu.au/centres/cpacs/docs/PAPUA_ROAD_MAP_Short_Eng.pdf).

116 For instance, even though the existingSpecial Autonomy Law theoretically allowsPapuan political parties, national legislationrequires political parties in Indonesia tomaintain offices in at least half of the country’s33 provinces. However, the Helsinki PeaceAgreement has effect ively granted adispensation to Aceh since it provides for localparties in Aceh province. This is anotherprecedent that could potentially be applied toWest Papua.

117 Organic police and military are thoserecruited, trained and are under thejurisdiction of the local administration. Non-organic police and military are those imposedby the national military and police command.Withdrawing non-organic forces would alsomean withdrawing the structures of the forceas well as the personnel. Thus, it was stipulatedthat Aceh would have its own police andmilitary, and that it would be run its owninternal security affairs without oversight fromJakarta or elsewhere in Indonesia.

118 Mietzner, 2009, pp. 301-302.

119 ICG, 2002. ‘Indonesia: Resources andConflict in Papua’, Asia Report 39, September13, p. 2.

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1 2 0 J o h n S a l t f o r d(http://www.papuaweb.org/dlib/s123/saltford/_phd.html), 2000. UNTEA and UNRWI: UnitedNations Involvement in West New GuineaDuring the 1960's, PhD Dissertation, Universityof Hull.

121 Akihisa Matsuno, 2011. ‘West Papua and thechanging nature of self-determination’,p r e s e n t e d a t C P A C S C o n f e r e n c e :Comprehending West Papua , SydneyUniversity, February 23-24.

122 Eliezer Bonay, Papua's first governor,

estimated in 1981 that some 30,000 Papuansdied at the hands of the Indonesian militarybetween 1963 and 1969.

123 See, for example, Tracey Banivanua-Mar,2008. '“A thousand miles of cannibal lands”:imagining away genocide in the re-colonizationof West Papua', Journal of Genocide Research,10: 4, pp. 583-602.

124 Matsuno, 2011.

125 ibid.