• Budi Hernawan

24 January 2011Is Papua a carceral society, asks Budi Hernawan
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AFTER the deadly shooting of Miron Wetipo, an Abepura inmate, who was caught up in a joint military and police search in December, the situation in Abepura prison turned into chaos. His inmates clashed with their wardens, and five inmates were arrested and detained by Mobile Brigade police and later charged with damaging public property and provocation. The detainees included Filep Karma, a prominent political prisoner serving a fifteen-year jail sentence, and Buktar Tabuni, a student leader serving three years in jail, along with Dominggus Pulalo, Alex Elopere and Lopes Karubaba. All of the detainees were held in custody at the police headquarters in Papua, where they were denied access to lawyers, any visits from their families and the protection of their basic needs until the police issued an arrest warrant on 15 December. While the Papua police had denied these allegations, the lawyers told the public that the police warrant did not categorise them as suspects; rather, they were categorized as witnesses. Their detention is thus highly questionable.

Not long after, another disturbing incident occurred – this time in Manokwari. Simon Banundi, a lawyer with the LP3BH human rights and legal aid organisation, was arrested by local police when he was monitoring a public demonstration organised by West Papua National Authority to commemorate the declaration of independence of West Melanesia State. Although he had not been formally charged, the police released a letter stating that his confiscated belongings were being held as evidence of treason. Following his release and after his belongings were returned by Manokwari police, that label remains on record. The Manokwari police chief suggested that LP3BH sue the police if they had any complaints rather than making statements to the media.

These are just two examples of the mismatch between crimes and punishment in West Papua. Prior to court hearings, it is quite common for a suspect to be prejudged as guilty on a charge not supported by the evidence. Prominent Indonesian terrorist suspects, for example, have greater rights to due process than Papuans. From the moment of their arrest, suspected terrorists have been granted full access to lawyers and visits from their relatives and colleagues, and their court hearings have been widely published. Of course, in the case of terrorist charges, the world has been watching whether Indonesia will deal with this crime according to the rule of law – in contrast to the treatment of Papuans, which has not been watched so closely.

The practice in Papua, whereby punishment has been imposed on suspects prior to court hearings, is disturbing not only because of the measures used to inflict physical and psychological pain on suspects, but also because democratic Indonesia has chosen to resort to coercive sanctions on its own citizens as a mode of governance. This approach has more common with the practices of an authoritarian and totalitarian regime than those of a democratic nation.

In the case of Papua, the main function of this form of governance is to protect state interests and powers rather than protect the public interest and bonum commune (the common good). Under this legal and political framework, law becomes a means to punish and discipline people in order to create what Foucault calls a “carceral society” – a society constructed as a prison. In this type of society, punishment has to be a visible and spectacular demonstration of the power of the state. The logic of such punishment is not about re-establishing justice, but about re-activating power.

Why do Indonesian state authorities continue to employ such measures in Papua? There are three possible explanations. First, the local police might not have the capacity to deal with vandalism or public demonstrations, and so they may have referred the recent incidents in Abepura and Manokwari to higher authorities or resorted to a harsh approach. Secondly, the local police might not have adequate knowledge of legal norms. Finally, given the long history of resistance movements, Papua might have been cast as guilty from the outset. Hence, any acts indicating opposition towards the authorities will easily meet with severe punishment.

Regardless of the various explanations for the treatment of these Papuans, the incidents represent a test case not only for the police but also for Indonesian democracy. The public has the opportunity to examine for themselves whether the mode of governance exercised by Indonesian authorities in Papua is firmly grounded in the rule of law, or simply sanctioned coercion. •

Budi Hernawan OFM, a Franciscan friar, a former director of the Office for Justice and Peace of the Catholic Church in Jayapura, Papua. Currently he is a PhD scholar at Regulatory Institutions Network at the Australian National University.

Photo: Anthony Seebaran/ iStockphoto