http://www.thejakartaglobe.com/home/suspicions-run-high-in-ambon-following-recent-riots/469127
Suspicions Run High in Ambon Following Recent Riots
Nivell Rayda | October 02, 2011

 

A woman passing in front of a demolished home in the Mardika area of Ambon. The 
neighborhood was looted and burned during last month’s deadly riot, but police 
have yet to name suspects.  (JG Photo/Nivell Rayda)




Ambon. The road that runs outside the Silo Church in Ambon is normally a 
one-way street, but for the last several weeks cars and motorbikes have been 
allowed to travel in both directions as motorists try to avoid the nearby 
Waringin area. 

Tensions remain high in Waringin, the area hit hardest by bloody rioting on 
Sept. 11 that killed seven people and left 67 injured. The streets are lined 
with burned-out homes and stores, even down alleyways accessible only by foot 
or bicycle. 

Structures that were spared are now heavily guarded by military and police 
personnel carrying assault rifles and clad in heavy, bulletproof gear and 
helmets. 

My guide Azis and I were the only two civilians out on the streets after dark. 
“We should get off the main road,” Azis says, making a right turn into a small 
alleyway away from the barricade of riot-control vehicles. 

Azis seems hesitant to pass the Talake area, a Christian neighborhood 
devastated by the riots. If we continue further down the road, he says, we will 
be confronted by security officers as police snipers watch us from inside 
people’s homes. 

Messages of peace are conveyed through hordes of billboards, banners and 
graffiti across town that depict the national symbol of unity, the Garuda 
Pancasila. But to many, particularly those whose properties were torched as 
well as the relatives of those killed, the words are empty rhetoric. 

Memories of the 1999-2002 sectarian conflict in Ambon, which killed 7,000 
people, still run deep in the collective psyche of its people. Waringin, a 
Muslim neighborhood, has already been destroyed and rebuilt twice, making this 
the third such instance. 

“In times like these, people are agitated. We become paranoid of strangers. A 
misunderstanding can grow into tension, and the next thing you know a riot 
breaks out,” Azis says. “Particularly if you survived the conflicts of the 
past, the pain of the lives lost starts rushing back.” 

He describes the past conflict as “a time when everyone “went mad.” People, he 
says, were treated like animals ­— and butchered like them, too. He confesses 
to killing a Christian man himself some 10 years earlier. The man, he says, was 
part of a group that attacked his neighborhood in Mardika. 

“I didn’t feel a thing when I drove a knife into his chest. It was like I was 
someone else, possessed by the spirit of a sadistic demon or some sort,” Azis 
says. “I got a taste of what hell must have been like because I have seen his 
face every day for the rest of my life.” 

The Widening Gap 

Muslims and Christians have always been heavily segregated in the 400-year-old 
city, dating back to the Dutch colonial era and its policy of “divide and 
conquer.” Not much has changed today. In fact, the bloody conflict widened the 
rift between both religious groups as people tended to live and mingle among 
their own. 

“Ambon has all the ingredients of a conflict zone,” said the Rev. Jacky 
Maniputty, of the Maranatha Protestant Church. “The city is heavily segregated, 
there is little public space for people to mingle, the political dynamics are 
high and it is congested.” 

The violence in 1999 began as a clash between the native Ambonese and the 
so-called “BBM” group, short for Bugis, Buton and Makassar, who make up the 
majority of migrants to the city. 

Like the recent riot, rumors exaggerating a trivial event sparked the 1999 
conflict. A public minivan driver was killed after refusing to give money to a 
thief. Both sides claimed to be the victim as the religions and ethnicities of 
the driver and his killer were widely disputed. 

Another factor preceding the deadly rioting of last month was the killing of 
Ambonese thugs in Jakarta a year earlier. Hundreds of their friends returned to 
their hometown and wreaked havoc. 

But the violence failed to escalate into a matter of national security — 
initially. 

“Suddenly, the conflict was perceived as one between religions,” human rights 
advocate Semuel Waileruny said. “Yet Ambonese include both Christians and 
Muslims, and the bond of common ancestry is so strong that there has never been 
a problem between the two.” 

Claims of religious violence in Ambon prompted many Muslims in the country to 
join the Laskar Jihad, or Warriors of Jihad, in 2000, pledging to retaliate 
against the Christians for shedding the blood of Muslims. 

The militants departed from Surabaya on board a Navy ship with the full support 
of the government to maintain order and stability. 

But their presence only prolonged the conflict and the city deteriorated into a 
war zone, with smuggled arms — which some believe were supplied by the military 
— falling into the hands of each side. 

The Ambon conflict and another act of religious violence in Poso, Central 
Sulawesi, led to the fall of then-President Abdurrahman “Gus Dur” Wahid in 
2001. Wahid was a well-known pluralist and staunch critic of the military. 

Old Tactics, Old Players 

The death of a Muslim motorcycle taxi driver in a Christian neighborhood 
triggered this year’s riot. Andreas Harsono, the Indonesian consultant for 
Human Rights Watch, points to “the roles of disinformation, unverified 
information, spreading through text messages, photos, videos and gossip” as the 
root cause behind the clash. 

Maniputty says there are similarities between the Sept. 11 riot and past 
conflicts. 

“The tactics are the same: distribution of unfounded rumors, unknown 
provocateurs directing the masses, mysterious shootings and deployment of 
troops,” he says. 

He says he is convinced by the way the incident unfolded that there are signs 
of people who want to see Ambon in disarray. 

“First, Ambon is attacked by rumors. If that fails to generate widespread 
conflict, there are bombs uncovered, first unexploded then exploded. If that 
doesn’t work, there will be corpses dumped by the side of the streets by 
unidentified men,” he says. 

So far this year, Ambon has seen at least two of those four signs. Police have 
found at least four unexploded bombs in recent weeks, including one planted 
outside Maniputty’s church. 

But finding someone to blame is an exercise in speculation. 

One Ambon media outlet reported that the Jakarta administration had devised the 
riot to make it easier for business interests to infiltrate and exploit the 
Spice Islands’s natural resources. Another theory says Ambon’s corrupt leaders 
engineered the clash so they could benefit heavily from reconstruction projects 
in the devastated areas. 

The Ambon chapter of the Islamic Students Association (HMI) suspects it was 
meant to scare off investigators from the Corruption Eradication Commission 
(KPK), who reportedly arrived in Ambon that day to investigate Maluku Governor 
Karel Ralahalu over allegations of graft. The KPK has denied investigators were 
in the city that day. 

Rights activists accuse the military of profiteering from people and 
businesses’ need for protection. One youth organization claims someone was 
trying to disrupt its national congress, which was in the city last week. Some 
conservative Muslims even believe a Zionist agenda is to blame for the chaos. 

No matter the theory, no one doubts the recent clash was engineered. Even Djoko 
Suyanto, the coordinating minister for political, legal and security affairs, 
says there are people who created or at least benefited from the instability of 
Ambon. 

Bonar Tigor Naipospos, deputy chairman of the Setara Institute for Freedom and 
Democracy, says the police appear reluctant to move their investigation forward 
and find the masterminds behind of last month’s violence. 

“They might think that if they continue the legal process, they could be 
accused of taking sides, which could lead to more conflict,” he says. “They 
might also think that time will heal the wounds and if the police get actively 
involved, that might only heat things up.” 

National Police spokesman Insp. Gen. Anton Bachrul Alam says police have yet to 
name any suspects. 

“The investigators are still gathering evidence and giving assurances to the 
family of the [driver] that [his death] really was an accident,” he says. 

But Bonar says police need to widen their investigation to identify the root 
cause of the violence. By limiting their focus to keeping the peace, he adds, 
they are almost guaranteeing that violence will break out again. 

Prior to the latest events, Maniputty had established an interfaith 
communications forum aimed at countering rumors. 

“We gather all of these hate messages and unfounded information and verify them 
ourselves. Then we disseminate the correct information using the available 
technology, which we hope can appease a wary public,” he says. 

Tribal leaders in Maluku have told their people to stay calm and warned that 
rioters would be expelled from the community. 

“People are now more selective in receiving information,” local rights activist 
Semuel Waileruny says. “But even then, violence still occurs.” 

In February 2002, the Malino II Accord between Muslims and Christians was 
signed, ending years of violence. A “Peace Gong” now sits in the heart of 
Ambon, a reminder of its violent past. 

Without a thorough investigation into how the latest conflict flared up, 
though, suspicions remain high. 

“Don’t ask why violence broke out again. Ask why the past conflicts are still 
unresolved,” Maniputty says. 

This report is supported by the Pantau Foundatio

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Kirim email ke