INTRODUCTION

The four possibilities I raise here are not mutually exclusive. Acehnese separation is a sort of “regionalism caused [in part] by internal development imbalances or…[internal] colonialism” (Lele 1980:201). Such movements typically involve both innovative and reactionary ideas. The traditions in which they seek to revitalize may become revolutionary in a changing context (Morris 1983:2-7).

To explain the causes of Acehnese discontent this paper focuses on underlying the Gerakan Aceh Merdeka (Free Aceh Movement) since its inception in 1976. I seek to show that GAM incorporates Islam into its political motives as a vehicle to gain support among Acehnese, i.e., that, while GAM claims its intentions are Islamic, its main goals have little to do with Islam. I will suggest that GAM’s fight for independence rises from two major factors: 1) Aceh people’s resentment of Javanese influence/dominance in Aceh including military abuses of Acehnese; 2) a sense that Acehnese deserve to profit from the natural resources held by Indonesian and foreign investors on Aceh territory. 

Understanding Acehnese history is crucial to understanding the current Aceh people’s struggle. Aceh has for centuries been a major center of commerce and Islamic scholarship (Reid 1969:1). Acehnese people today often hearken back to the time when Aceh was an influential religious and political force. The northwest corner of Sumatra was “the first stop for Indian and Arab traders sailing to the Spice Islands.” They established ports there by the eleventh century and soon after brought Islam to several developing port kingdoms. The port kingdom of Sumadra, located on present day Lhokseuame in North Aceh, was of such importance that traders named the entire island after it (Reid 1969:1-2). Because of Acehnese acceptance of Islam, 14^th century Arab traders styled Aceh as Serambi Makah the “Gate of Mecca” (Djuli 1999). 

In 1511, Portuguese took over the city of Malacca on the Malay Peninsula. At the time Aceh was a vassal of its neighbor Pidie, on the north Sumatran coast. Pidie and Pasai, both important pepper trading ports neighboring Aceh, came under Portuguese influence (Kell 1995:3). That influence motivated the sultan of Aceh, Ali Mughayat Shah, to declare Aceh independent. In the early 1520’s the anti-Portuguese forces in the “sharply divided states of the north coast” united and pushed the Portuguese from their “footholds” there (Reid 1969:2). Consequently Pidie and Pasai were united under Acehnese rule, adopted the Acehnese language and began to refer to themselves as Acehnese (Kell 1995:5). With the control of the two pepper ports, the sultan of Aceh gained “a rich trade with Gujerat and China” (Hall 1964:322).

GOLDEN AGE

During this period Aceh’s territory extended far down the present day coast of north Sumatra. Acehenese dominance of these areas did not last long, because many of the areas where suzerainty was established turned to the Dutch for protection (Reid 1969:18-19). The Siak Treaty of 1858 allowed the Dutch to rule the east coast of Sumatra (Reid 1969:45). 

Increasing competition among other Western powers for the Sumatran trade induced a response from the Dutch and British, who had previously dominated trade in the region (Reid 1969:53). Fearing that other Western powers might interfere with their trading rights with Sumatra, the British signed the Treaty of Sumatra in 1871, ceding Sumatra to the Dutch “in return for non-differential duties and the opening of the of the coasting trade to British shipping throughout Netherlands India”, and giving the Netherlands an “entirely free hand in Sumatra” (Ricklefs 1981:136). Holland’s new freedom in Sumatra led to the Dutch attempt to conquer Aceh in 1873, the beginning of the “Aceh War” (Ricklefs 1981:136).

According to conservative estimates the Aceh war lasted thirty-five years, according to Acehnese, seventy (Morris 1983:54). The war disrupted Acehnese social structure, altering the position of uleebalang and ulama.[ii] The uleebalang, ultimately concerned with protecting their satrapies, could not provide the unity needed to resist the Dutch (Kell 1995:8). Most lost much of their revenue through Dutch blockades and bombardments (Reid 1969:251). Because most uleebalang compromised with Holland, Acehnese lost respect for them. 

Ulama, Islamic scholars, traditionally respected “as a result of Atjeh’s strong tradition of Islamic education” (Morris 1983:251), came to lead the resistance, although they previously had been largely uninvolved in politics (Morris 1983:251; Kell 1995:8). They declared a perang sabil, “holy war,” against the kafir, “infidel,” invaders. The most famous and influential leader of the time was Teungku Chi’ di Tiro from the famous dayah, “religious boarding school,” in Pidie (Morris 1983:57). The ulama’s most convincing weapon in gaining Acehnese support for the battle against the Dutch was an epic poem-the hikayat perang sabil.The hikayat perang sabil encouraged holy war by glorifying the rewards awaiting any Acehnese who might die in the holy war. Eric Morris brings up two important points about this poem. First, the hikayat perang sabil was written in Acehnese, not the usual literary Malay or Arabic. Any Acehnese could understand it. Secondly, the “ulamas had to forego, for the time being at least, their campaign to reorient social life towards a community of believers on earth” (Reid 1969:252). 

By 1913, the ulama gave up the guerrilla struggle and “the Dutch could at last be said to have conquered Aceh” (1979:9). Under the colonial government, the uleebalang, having lost their political authority, sought additional sources of income by becoming major landowners (Reid 1979:7-9). 

During the colonial period Acehnese Islam underwent a transformation. Before 1930, Acehnese Islam was largely influenced by Islamic mysticism, the Sufism of early missionaries (Morris 1983:75). It primarily revolved around the central pillar of Islam-the Muslim confession of faith-“There is no god but God and Muhammad is his prophet” (Geertz 1960:122). 

To follow up the image of the five pillars (of Islam), we might say that the pointed roof of the building of Islam is still mainly supported by the central pillar, the confession that there is no god but Allah and that Muhammad is the messenger of Allah, but that this pillar is surrounded with a medley of ornamental work quite unsuited to it which is a profanation of its lofty simplicity. And in regard to the other four, the corner pillars, it might be observed that some of these have suffered decay in the long lapse of time, while other new pillars, which according to the orthodox teaching are unworthy to be supports of the holy building have been planted beside the original five and have to a considerable extent robbed them of their functions. (Snouck Hurgronje 1906: 313)

The Aceh war devastated this spiritually oriented Islam. The Dutch killed many prominent ulama and their students. The traditional dayah[iii] education system was in ruins. The failure of the dayahs to resist the Dutch effectively led to the establishment of religious elementary schools called madrasahs, which differed greatly from dayahs. Madrasahs modeled themselves on reformist Islamic education in West Sumatra and the rest of the Netherlands East Indies. They sought to “render comprehensible what had always been held esoteric in the dayahs” (Morris 1983:79). Madrasahs didn’t include merely religious studies into their curriculum; they eventually incorporated aspects of middle eastern geography and Islamic history. This general education was to make up for deficiencies in the education provided to Acehnese by the Dutch. Teachers instilled a feeling of Acehnese nationalism in madrasah students, who learned that love of country is part of faith (keimanan) (Morris 1983:92). 

C. Geertz describes Islamic revitalization as an attempt to “reestablish the ‘plain’, ‘original’, ‘uncorrupted’, ‘progressive’ Islam of the Days of the Prophet and the Rightly Guided Caliphs” (Geertz 1968:69). The collapse of pepper production in the mid-1920’s led to most Acehnese impoverishment combined with bitterness about their defeat led many Acehnese to the teachings of reformist ulama (Kell 1983: 8; Siegel 1969:90-91,98). The appeal of the ulamas in the 1930’s rested on an “explicit linking of reformist goals with the historical renovation of the community” (Morris 1983:83). 

Revitalizing ulama sought to “purify” Acehnese Islam and to gain back the autonomy Aceh controlled during their “golden age.” Although the ulama often spoke of Aceh’s “golden age” as it was known under the sultan at the height of his power in the 17^th century, they did not intend to restore a utopian version of this “golden age.” They intended to glorify an idealized future in which all Muslims would be united under shari’ah, religious law, as a “contrast between the “shameful” present and a “golden” past” (Morris 1983:83). 

Their solutions for Aceh’s decline involved persatuan (unity) and keinsafan or kesadaran (consciousness). Through these terms reformist ulama attacked those religious practices employed by conservative ulama, which emphasized the name of Islam (“surrender”) over the way in which it was practiced. Reformists portrayed syncretic Islam as heretical, “in conflict with a purified Islam” (Morris 1983:86). They viewed traditional Acehnese Sufism as antithetical to both consciousness and unity: contradictory to consciousness because Sufis seek to merge individual consciousness into God; and to unity because they often demanded loyalty to a “master” thought to have great power, supernatural, and spiritual (Robinson 1997:110).A prominent Acehnese malim (the singular of ulama) reflected the change in Islamic and nationalist thought taking place during the reformist movement: 

Before the 1930s we thought of religion only in terms of praying (sembahyang) and the pilgrimage to Mecca. We did not think of religion as a “way of life.” We were stupid but happy. We did not think of independence from the Dutch. And then we started the madrasahs---only then did consciousness (keinsafan) begin. (Morris 1983:91)

The pinnacle of “reformist enthusiasm” (Morris 1983:91) occurred in 1939 with the formation of the Persatuan Ulama-ulama Seluruh Aceh (PUSA), the “All Aceh Ulama Association,” comprising most leaders of Acehnese madrasahs. PUSA soon became the vehicle not only for the Acehnese ulama struggling against the uleebalang but also for nationalists whose main goal was to oust the Dutch from Aceh. PUSA looked to God’s guidance to “succeed in reestablishing Aceh’s grandeur” (Van Dijk 1981:270).As the gulf between uleebalang and peasants widened, more people associated themselves with either PUSA or Pemuda PUSA (PUSA youth) “transforming them in the process into broader and more political organizations” (Reid 1969:29). 

When the Japanese took Indonesia from the Dutch in World War II they exploited PUSA’s anti-uleebalang and anti-Dutch attitude (Van Dijk 1981:271). An Aceh/Japanese alliance formed as a result of a PUSA visit to Penang, Malaysia: an important Japanese Navy Admiral agreed to help rid Aceh of Dutch rule. However, Japanese rule was no more welcome in Aceh than that of Dutch. The Japanese continued the Dutch policy of using uleebalang to run the government, while treating PUSA as merely an apolitical religious organization. Popular resentment of the uleebalang grew, due to their position under Japanese rule as tax collectors and organizers of forced labor among Acehnese (Kell 1983:9). Although Japanese attempted to keep ulama out of politics, the ulama in Aceh were important to the Japanese rulers who recruited ulama to win support for their war goals. 

In 1945 the Japanese war struggle in Indonesia collapsed with the defeat of Japan. Further rifts separated uleebalang from ulama. Uleebalang hoped to regain their prewar status under the Dutch. The ulama, unable to establish political supremacy over uleebalang under Japanese rule, sided with Indonesian revolutionaries against the Dutch (Van Dijk 1981:272). Most ulama in Aceh signed a declaration declaring that the conditions required for a holy war (jihad) had been met. Daud Beureueh, along with two other famous traditionalist leaders, signed a document stating that “this struggle (for Indonesian independence) is a sacred struggle which is called a HOLY WAR,…[and] is like a continuation of the former struggle in Aceh which was led by the later Teungku Chik di Tiro and other national heroes” (Reid 1979:190).

Most of the support for the revolution stemmed from PUSA ulama and PUSA youth educated in the madrasah. Revolutionaries stripped uleebalang of their hereditary rights and confiscated their possessions. Ulama took over the positions held by the uleebalang in places like the Indonesian Republic’s Civil and Military Administration in Aceh. Evidently the ulama benefited from seizing uleebalang land and possessions (Van Dijk 1981:273). 

The Nazi takeover of Holland in World War II weakened Dutch authority in Indonesia. PUSA ulama controlled trade across the Straits of Malacca with Penang and Singapore. Acehnese traders brought back goods essential for the Indonesian revolution such as guns and ammunition (Morris 1983:154). They also donated a hefty percentage of their proceeds from trade to the revolution, in their eyes earning Aceh the title of daerah modal Revolusi, “region of capital for the revolution” (Morris 1983:154). 

The new administration consolidated Aceh into the province of North Sumatra. The state ideology of Pancasila (five principles) was established as a “modus vivendi between the secular nationalism advocated by nationalists and the idea of an Islamic state demanded by Islamically oriented politicians” (Woodward 1996:89). The ambiguity of the first principle, the belief in one God, angered reformist Muslims. This principle embodied the religious syncretism Acehnese reformists had fought to purge. Pancasila increasingly came to embody “Javanese culture in opposition to reformist Islam” (Morris 1983:195). The failure of the Indonesian government to make Indonesia an Islamic state further alienated Acehnese Islamists from the central government.

DARUL ISLAM INDONESIA

Movements directed against central authority in the late 1950s were collectively known as the ‘regionalist movement’. An array of issues pertaining to ethnicity and autonomy was central to the regionalist movement, which coupled with disenchantment with the post-revolutionary structure of the center. The regionalist movement was less concerned with gaining greater independence from the center than with the performance of the national government as a government.

In 1953, reformist ulama incorporated Aceh in the Darul Islam rebellion which began in West Java in the late 1940s as a reaction to the “deteriorating moral climate in Aceh and the waning Islamic influence at the center” (Van Dijk 1981:20). A letter written by an Acehnese prince reflects reformist feelings on post-Independence Indonesia: 

…there began to enter a number of “excesses” which the Acehnese considered unacceptable and alien, “excesses” which the Acehnese considered to violate Islam and the basis for the independence struggle, namely martyrdom and the desire to defend Islam in a holy war against colonialism. Those “excesses” are: 

The drinking of alcohol (beer and the like)—strongly forbidden according to the spirit of religious “fanaticism” in Aceh—was found everywhere, even at the smallest stalls in villages. Even young children boasted of drinking beer, which they called, in jest, “Jakarta lemonade.” 

Respect was no longer paid to religious customs and traditions. For example, a night fair (pasar malam) was held in Kutaradja on the eve of Hari Raja Hadji [a religious holiday celebrating the pilgrimage to Mecca]…Actually this incident [the night fair] was in itself a small problem. But the word was spread around that during colonial times, with a foreign government, this would not have been allowed. Thus should it not be the same with our own government? But it was not the same…finally unknown persons burned the night fair down…

Then came news of how the government provided assistance for the restoration of [ancient Javanese Buddhist and Hindu] temples but not for mosques. And so forth. 

Dancing had already entered along with other forms of entertainment, which were in conflict with the Acehnese spirit. 

Day by day the number of non-Muslim officials increased.

The newspapers reported that the government provided several millions in subsidies for non-Islamic schools, whereas for Islamic schools subsidies came to less than one million. Moreover, it was known that national revenues came overwhelmingly from the Islamic community. 

There were the changes within Acehnese society, and they could not be checked. Then one remembered: if Aceh were an “autonomous” region, surely we could stem unacceptable influences and customs. But since Aceh is part of North Sumatra, all influences are free to enter. Finally, people concluded: if the current situation had been allowed to continue, in ten years the religious spirit would have disappeared from Aceh. 

People began to praise openly the Dutch colonial government, saying that religion during the colonial period was better protected than during the independence period. The “self ruler” system was praised; if people complained to their uleebalang of gambling, adultery, robbery and the like in the village, the uleebalang immediately took strong measures so that the evil soon disappeared. But it is not the same now...In this disquieting atmosphere, Islamic leaders advanced the idea of an Islamic State. They proposed that an Islamic State would be run according to God’s law as revealed in the Koran and in the Hadiths. 

The Acehnese people, known for their religious fanaticism, were enthusiastic; their hopes rested on the idea of the Islamic State…

Advocates of autonomy for Aceh were unable to ignite the people’s imagination; the people were unwilling to sacrifice themselves for an autonomy of uncertain character and extent. But once it was proposed to build an Islamic State, a State based on the Koran and the Hadiths, the response of the Acehnese was tumultuous. (Morris 1983:193)

Aceh’s governor stated that the only way the Darul Islam government differed from the Indonesian government was that the rebels wanted to emphasize Indonesia’s Islamic character (Morris 1983:211). Years after the rebellion began it remained unclear what it meant to be part of the “Islamic State of Indonesia.” In 1955, rebel leaders signed a declaration clarifying the relationship of the Acehnese rebellion to the one in West Java. The declaration stated that Aceh was a federal state (negara bahagian) within the Islamic State of Indonesia.

Unlike the Darul Islam rebellion in West Java the rebellion in Aceh faced little difficulty winning the support of the populace in Aceh. There was little distinction between the populace and rebels during initial attacks. Villagers took part in the take over of towns. Although the guerrillas sometimes turned violent to villagers, the Darul Islam rebels encountered little difficulty winning villagers’ support (Morris 1981: 204).

Darul Islam leaders knew that overturning the national government in Aceh would not be enough to transform Indonesia’s Pancasila regime into an Islamic government. Rebel leaders hoped that the defeat of government forces in Aceh would bring about other uprisings in Indonesia in addition to the already sizable rebellions in West Java and South Sulawesi. Rebels waged long-term guerrilla warfare in hopes of developments in the rest of Indonesia further benefiting their cause. Acehnese guerrillas continued their fight but with the absence of sufficient arms to gain ground for their cause.For years rebels and the central government remained at a stalemate refusing to negotiate with the rebels. Rebellions in other parts of Indonesia pressured the government to end conflicts anywhere possible in order for the republic to stay together. In 1956, the government finally gave into their demands.

Teungku M. Daud Beureueh, now known as the “Lion of the podium” (Morris 1983:198), stressed the importance of the creation of an Islamic state in his vision of a “revived and unified community of the faithful” (Morris 1983:125). The Islamic reformist ideology of PUSA ulama like Beureueh was more legalistic than spiritual. Reformist ulama preached against traditionally non-Islamic acts like cock fighting, gambling, traditional rites and typical Sufi rituals like saint veneration (1983:160). They viewed the Pancasila government as anti-Islamic and a“camouflage for Javanism and Marxism.” To them, the new president, Sukarno, seemed to be trying to revive the Javanese Hindu-Buddhism of the classical Indonesian empires (1983:198).

Two pieces of propaganda increased Acehnese support for the rebellion. The first was a pamphlet written by Teungku Daud M. Beureueh’s as a “Proclamation” that Aceh had become part of the Negara Islam Indonesia (the Islamic State of Indonesia) which had been established in West Java in 1949 (1983:200). The second was another pamphlet, Keterangan Politik “Political Manifesto,” which expressed the rebels’ reasons for turning against the republic of Indonesia. In this statement rebels voiced their contempt for Sukarno’s principle of nationality (kebangsaan), and the fifth principle of the Pancasila, “the belief in Almighty God” which they believed to be a “political ploy” (1983:201) to win the support of Indonesian non-Muslims. The pamphlet also argued that the government used Acehnese wealth but denied Acehnese access to education and economic opportunities equal to those of other Indonesians.

We do not want to separate ourselves from our brothers and sisters in other regions to whom we are bound by feelings of brotherhood and humanity, but at the same time we refuse to be treated as stepchildren or left to live like slaves. Our children have not had adequate opportunities for education and our people have not had sufficient opportunities in economic endeavors. Before we stood shoulder to shoulder with other regions in defending the common interest, but this equality is clearly no longer reflected in the realities of daily life.

If we are now forming a state it does not mean forming a state within the state, for in our hearts and souls we had viewed the Republic as a golden bridge to realizing the true state for which we have longed from the beginning. It is now our view that this bridge is no longer a connection; quite the contrary, it has become an obstacle. (Morris 1983:200-202)

Rebels gained control of almost the whole of Aceh in the first few weeks after Aceh joined the Darul Islam rebellion. The major city Kutaradja (Banda Aceh) and the kabupaten[iv] capitols Langsa (East Aceh), Lhoseumawe (North Aceh), Sigli (Pidie) and Meulagoh (West Aceh) remained under government control. The rebels continued their struggle in rural areas (Van Dijk 1981:269).

To quell the rebellion, the central government made Aceh a separate province in 1957, with a former PUSA youth member as its first governor (Kell 1995:11). In 1959 it upgraded the region to Special Province status, with autonomy in the fields of religion, customary law, and education (Van Dijk 1981:269). The central government filled Aceh’s provincial government posts with uleebalang and conservative ulama, instead of using military force to stop the rebellion. Both these groups had been adversely affected by PUSA domination and sought a way to overturn it (Morris 1983:207). In many cases the central government used bribery to turn conservative ulama against reformist ulama.

In the early 1960s PUSA ulama’s domination of Aceh began to wane, and a new class of elites began to form (Kell 1995:11). As the education system in Aceh flourished, the central government promised increased development in the province. Acehnese viewed Acehnese secular intellectual ideas as a way forward. Soon paved their status in the providence rose. Although they no longer dominated Acehnese society, nevertheless ulama remained highly respected and influential.

The settlement of the rebellion in Aceh came after the Sukarno regime’s transition from Guided Democracy (the Old Order), the alliance between the army and President Sukarno, to the New Order, President Suharto’s army dominated government (Morris 1983: 244). The establishment of the New Order regime came with the near genocide of the Indonesian Communist Party, a blood bath that claimed the lives of hundreds of thousands of its supporters throughout Indonesia. Many Chinese Indonesians also died. 

Islamists thought of the Communist Party as the greatest threat to Islam in Indonesia. Aceh was one of the areas in Indonesia where Suharto’s New Order received a warm welcome, largely because of Aceh’s strong Islamic anti-Communist stance. However, Acehnese welcome of the New Order did not last long. The New Order had no intentions of advancing Islam as a social and political force. Rather it sought to bring all sources of power outside the state under tight control. Government and political authority increasingly centralized around Indonesia’s major population center, Java, over the next twenty-five years, further diminishing the regional autonomy Sukarno had granted Aceh. Centralization of economic decision-making and control of economic resources came along with the centralization of power.

With encouragement from the army Acehnese Islamic youth groups shut down the Communist Party. Estimates of the number of “Communists” killed in Aceh range from 2,000 to 6,000 persons. Since then many Acehnese directly involved in the killing have admitted that only a few victims were aware (sadar) of the tenets of the Communist Party (Morris 1983:246). They justify killing such innocents by asserting that they had to uproot the leftist threat in order to protect Islam and that Islam permitted the killings under the religious sanction of a holy war. 

EMERGENCE OF THE TECHNOCRATS

Rapid economic changes accompanied the transition to the New Order, whose main economic goal was to develop Indonesia’s economy. The generals believed that political stability was a sine qua non for economic development. They alleged that Sukarno’s policy of Nasakom,[v] fostered political conflict. The new leaders sought to depoliticize Indonesian life. They strove to exclude nationalist, religious or social justice ideologies. After Communism, political Islam was a threat to stability. The army’s attempt to stifle Islamism turned most Acehnese leaders against the New Order. The government found Acehnese leadership in a group Indonesians call ‘technocrats.’ 

The ‘technocrats’ ability to lead rested on the secular higher education they received at universities in Java, often followed by advanced study in Europe or the United States. Many technocrats were from ulama families and thus won the support of traditional peasant villagers, whose loyalty remained to ulama. Instead of pushing for the New Order to embrace Islamist ideals, the technocrats fought to get Acehnese a share of the economic prosperity they had lost as an overlooked and neglected outer region (Kell 1995:30). I will refer to this policy as the technocrats’ ‘marginalist ideology.’ Their reliance on aid from the central government confirmed one of the New Order’s most basic tenents: that power flows from the center towards the periphery (Anderson 1990:410).

Under the New Order, Acehnese leaders were to focus on economic development (Morris 1983:253). Aceh’s economy remained divided, structurally and geographically, between a capital-intensive export driven sector and a labor intensive village sector. Although Aceh’s economy was not thriving when the New Order came to power, Acehnese did not suffer the extreme poverty and hunger of people in Java and East Indonesia. Acehnese leaders sought to boost Aceh’s stagnant economy through greater investment in pembangunan (development). The focus on ‘technocratic development’ linked the Acehnese leadership with the New Order.

The failure of the Darul Islam rebellion greatly weakened the position of reformist ulama. The New Order viewed Islamism as a threat to its development policies. Since the early days of independence, Aceh lacked the secular indigenous ruling class that it once found in the uleebelang. Jakarta put technocrats in charge of New Order development policy after the end of the Darul Islam rebellion. This new leadership allowed the Javanese center to focus local Acehnese leadership on pembangunan and to favor region over religion (Morris 1983:255). 

The new leadership’s strategy for acquiring government aid involved redefining Acehnese as an overlooked and marginal ethnic minority in need of resources and training. Technocrats sometimes blamed Islamism for Aceh’s economic stagnation. They portrayed the ulama and Islam as obstacles to development.

Although I had been a member of HMI (Himpunan Mahasiswa Indonesia, Islamic Student Association), I decided not to join an Islamic political party because I saw that the parties lacked a concrete concept of development. I saw that the government side was more progressive, more secular, and more concerned with economic issues. The parties are too ideological. I think we need to get away from ideologies. Also, outsiders laugh at Acehnese for being so “fanatical” about religion. How can we attract foreign investment to Aceh if we are seen to be “fanatical”? (Morris 1983: 260) 

Technocrats confronted visions of one country under Islamic law by treating Acehnese problems as regional and economic. 

Aceh’s economy under the New Order underwent drastic changes. The New Order’s ideology, in which power flowed from the center (Java) outwards, marginalized Aceh. Acehnese lost control of the capital and other resources they needed to rise above subalternity. In 1969, the government introduced the first five-year plan. The plan originally envisioned Aceh as an agricultural region, the rice barn of Indonesia (Kell 1995:13). Aceh’s under-development changed when Mobil Oil Indonesia discovered vast amounts of natural gas in the kabupatan of North Aceh.

These rich resources made Aceh vital to Indonesia’s economy. By the 1980s the province was producing thirty percent of the republic’s oil and gas exports by the 1980s. Today, Aceh provides up to 50% of Indonesia’s oil and gas (Desgranges 2000:37-38). A Jakarta based company completed a liquefied natural gas (LNG) refinery in 1977 and created the Lhokseumawe Industrial Zone. By the 1990s Indonesia was the world’s leading LNG exporter, contributing forty percent of the world’s LNG. Until the early 1990s Aceh’s Arun plant was the world’s largest LNG refinery.

Development of the Lhokseumawe Industrial Zone has brought rapid change, much of it negative, to local peasants. Development came at a rate many people were unable to adapt to. Before the discovery of natural gas in North Aceh, local peasants subsisted on agriculture and fish farming. New industries have displaced entire villages. Modern industries have brought few jobs to the local villagers forced to relocate. Locals got work constructing factories, but few companies rehired these people to work in them. Most plant workers require technical training. So far, few locals have attained the level of training needed. Much of the skilled labor in the factories comes from outside of Aceh because of the paucity of skilled Acehnese laborers (Kell 1995:16). 

Earnings from exports of these products, and a number of other products produced in Aceh, do not return there but flow directly to Pertamina, the state owned oil company, foreign contractors, and the republic’s center of power, Jakarta. Most Indonesian provinces “spend more than they produce” (Kell 1995:16). It is the few provinces like Aceh rich in natural resources, that contribute capital and resources through the central government to the rest of Indonesia. As LNG is gaining greater importance over oil, high LNG producing areas like Aceh are gaining importance to the central government.

The government program of transmigrasi also drastically changed Aceh’s economy. Transimgrasi, “transmigration,” is the program of resettling people from Indonesia’s ‘overpopulated’ regions (Java, Madura, Bali, and Lombok) to its ‘underpopulated’ regions. The New Order viewed both overpopulation and underpopulation as “obstacles to development” for developing Indonesia (Otten 1985:39). ‘Surplus people’ were blamed for the extreme poverty of many Javanese. Although Java only covers 7% of Indonesia’s land area it supports 60% of the total population. Javanese population density averages approximately 700 people per square kilometer, compared to 63 in Sumatra, 43 in Aceh, 21 in Kalimantan and 3 in West Irian (Otten 1985:42). With most Indonesians living in Java, and the New Order looking at uneven population distribution as an obstacle development, Javanese transmigration became a Javanese remedy “to boost national development.” Through the ‘population motive’ the New Order aimed to reduce land and population pressures in dense areas by resettling portions of the population to less densely populated parts of Indonesia like Sumatra, Kalimantan, and Aceh. 

In 1969, when the government put the first five-year development plan (Repelita) in place, many families from ‘overpopulated’ areas transmigrated throughout Indonesia. The number of transmigrant families resettled grew with each five-year plan: 45,000 families under the first Repelita (1969-1974), 100,000 under the second Repelita (1974-1979), 500,000 under the third Repelita (1979-1984), and 750,000 under the forth Repelita (1984-1989). However, resettlement had little effect on the Javanese population because throughout each Repelita, Java’s population growth far exceeded the number of transmigrants. If the official number of Javanese/Balinese transmigrants moved yearly, approximately 500,000, is correct, transmigrasi would involve only a quarter of the yearly natural increase in Java’s population (Otten 1985:123).

Anyway, the problem in Java is not just overpopulation, but unequal ownership of land and conversion of agricultural land to industrial purposes. Between 1973 and 1980, the number of petani gurem “small farmers,” farmers who own less than half a acre rose from 45% to 63%, while the number of landless farmers increased from 3.2% to 14%. Unemployment and poverty increased in tandem. From 1980 to 1983 the total number of petani gurem decreased from 11 to 8.7 million households as a result of several factors, including transmigration. Transmigrant families who owned land in Java often sold out to landlords before leaving for resettlement areas. As impoverished farmers and landless farmers moved out, one third of the land in Java fell into the hands of only 1% of landholders (Otten 1985: 132).

To justify moving transmigrants to outer Indonesia, authorities invoked the myth of the rich natural resources and low population densities there. The former Minister of Transmigration once referred to outer Indonesia as ‘labor scarce areas’ (Otten 1985:24). A World Bank report used the myth of emptiness to justify transmigration. 

Vast tracts of forest and coastal land lie uncultivated in the Outer Islands. The low population densities in some areas (….), impede regional development and economic growth. These facts have been so striking for so long that programmes to wed the under-utilised labor of Java with the underutilised land of the Outer islands have been carried out since the beginning of the century. (Otten 1985:240)

By the mid-1980s it was evident that transmigration had failed to improve the economy in Inner Indonesia. Nevertheless, the New Order was determined to continue the program. Officials claimed that although transmigration didn’t solve the population problem in Inner Indonesia, it raised the quality of life for those Javanese who moved- the “myth of the happy transmigrant family” (Otten 1985:27). This myth assumed that because most transmigrants had little land in Inner Indonesia, they would be better off owning land in a resettlement area. 

But the small plots of land allotted to resettlers often did not raise their quality of life. Many families had problems at the level of subsistence. Resettlers had to overcome problems caused by insufficient site selection, preparation, and planning. The few families that succeeded in producing cash crops had problems marketing their product, because of the remoteness of most resettlement sites and the absence of roads. The government not only gave transmigrants plots of land so small that subsistence life was difficult but the land given to them was often only “half ready” referring to uncleared “jungle” on resettlement sites. One Javanese transmigrant in Aceh said: “the government only cut big trees, it was still jungle…So we had to cut smaller trees, hoe the ground. (We) cleared the land from bushes and rocks with only hoes and blades” (Yamin 2000). 

Moreover, transmigrants, ethnically distinct from local populations, often meet hostility and even violence (Otten 1985:227). For instance, Madurese transmigrants in Borneo, victims of headhunting massacres in 1997-1998 (Parry 1998:83-123), again became refugees as I was finishing this paper (Associated Press 2001:A-2).

Transmigration not only failed to raise resettlers’ quality of life but moved Javanese poverty to Outer Indonesia (Otten 1985:28). Transmigration, the central government claims, brings employment to the local population as well as the transmigrant population-another myth. Transmigrants cultivate only part of their land on resettlement sites and search for outside jobs, thus taking away jobs from locals. When families fail to live at subsistence levels and have to abandon their resettlement project, the “male transmigrant drop-outs search for manual jobs in the construction business, the female ones become hawkers, jamu [magical plant] vendors, and even prostitutes” (Otten 1985:109). Thus the transmigration program has not only failed to solve the ‘population problem’ and failed to stimulate regional development, but also has spread Javanese social pathology into hitherto healthy areas.

Still Javanese politicians argue that transmigration is vital to Indonesia’s security, “national resilience” and ‘pembinaan teritorial’ territorial management. The central government sends transmigrants to the periphery of Indonesia (daerah perbatasan) and to troubled areas (daerah rawah) to create a local Javanese population loyal to the central, Java-centered government (Otten 1985:43). In addition to this military personnel and ex-soldiers often take part in the transmigration program with their families in order to protect Indonesia’s periphery from foreign forces and domestic insurgents.

In 1985, an Indonesian army General officially declared the importance of

transmigration program to national security: “on the whole, the movement of people in the framework of the transmigration programme has helped to disseminate knowledge and understanding of state ideology (Pancasila), political attitudes and cultural values to the relatively ‘naïve’ local residents” (Otten 1985:188). That is, transmigration disseminates Javanese values throughout Indonesia. National (Javanese) security is the hidden objective of transmigration. 

The reason for this blindspot is not hard to find: The strategic designs of the regime are matters for military leaders alone to publicize and explain in as far as it is in their interest to do so. Yet it is the objective above all which explains why the programme is not likely to be abandoned, however damaging it may be. Transmigration is integral to the goal of nation-building, which involves not only the assimilation of all ethnic groups into a single Indonesian identity but the imposition of Java’s hegemony over the entire archipelago. (Otten 1985:188) 

Thus the two main political goals of transmigration are to promote national integration and security. During the pre-independence period the pattern of settlement was not conducive to integration. Since Independence, the Indonesian government has striven for national unity. Sukarno sought to end the ethnic diversity of pre-Independence Indonesia when he introduced the ideal of One Indonesian Nation.[vi] Under this ideal, the Javanese became the model for the “New Indonesia.”

Jawanisasi (Javanisation) 

there is no escaping the fact that a sustained large-scale movement of people from Java, whether by government-sponsored transmigration or spontaneous migration, implies increasing Javanisation of the Outer Islands.

--Even Arndt (Otten 1985:163)

Resistance to transmigration reflects resistance to Jawanisasi (Javanisation). It is no surprise that Sumatra has been a hotbed of such resistance. During the first three Repelitas 60% of the transmigrants went to Sumatra, including Aceh. In 1985, the central government funded the construction of homes for 100 resettling families in Aceh (about 350 people). In 1985, a Jakarta’s spokesman said “Some 50 families are scheduled to leave for Aceh this year, but the local government is not yet ready to accommodate the transmigrants” (Otten 1985:163).

The central government claims that Javanese migration to the Outer Islands is beneficial to local people because, in the central government’s eyes, native populations have not attained the same level of development and civilization as Javanese. Transmigrants have pushed local and native people off their lands and robbed them of their skilled and unskilled jobs as a consequence of transmigration. Javanese ethnocentrism affected Acehnese culture adversely.

The Acehnese language had been so downgraded that only people in the villages were using it, educated Acehnese had become embarrassed if caught speaking the language in public. The Acehnese dialect of the Malay language that was very common in Aceh before the New Order came to power, as are still the Deli and Medan dialects, has simply become extinct, replaced by the bazaar Malay of Jakarta. Acehnese were teased for their supposed stupidity such as bargaining when purchasing stamps, or taking off their shoes when entering the cinema. (Djuli 1999)

From 1975 to November 1992, 255,439 transmigrant families moved to Aceh. The increasing number of transmigrants in the Lhokseumawe Industrial Zone has exacerbated cultural and social disparities between migrants employed by the industries and the surrounding traditional Acehnese agriculturists. These industries have brought urban, capital-intensive-minded, non-Acehnese to a low-income, rural, mainly Islamist, Acehnese province (Kell 1995:17). Many Javanese transmigrants have brought practices anathema to Islamism to Aceh such as gambling, drinking and prostitution. Acehnese complain that Javanese have re-written history books to eliminate the crucial role the Acehnese played in the struggle against Dutch colonialism. 

The distance between Java and the Outer Islands and unknown territories makes government control of these regions difficult. To bring outer regions under control the government builds roads and highways to assist settlement and to make access to remote areas easier. In Sumatra, the Trans-Sumatra Highway, a 2,700 km. road connecting Banda Aceh to south Sumatra, has made ‘territorial management’ easier for the Armed Forces. These roads and highways let the Armed Forces/government bring territories with questionable loyalty to the Jakarta regime under strict control (Otten 1985:201).

To ‘Javanize’ Aceh, the government recruits skilled workers primarily from outside of Aceh to run industries the government sets up and owns. Employment of Acehnese by the industries is mainly temporary. Formerly Acehnese could not get full time employment by these industries because they lacked the requisite skills. Universities and technical schools in Aceh now provide skilled workers. Still, for any jobs other than temps, job announcements in Aceh are rare. Government owned industries in Aceh post job announcements in Jakarta not Aceh. Acehnese who seek full time employment have to go to Java to find full time jobs in Aceh. One Acehnese man stated: 

Sometimes in Aceh it happens that you are hired as the local employee. That means that your future is not as bright as the employees hired in Jakarta. If I’m hired in Jakarta, I can be appointed and be assigned to any position anywhere both domestic and international positions, but if you are hired as a local employee you just work until retirement. (Otten 1985:190)

As the Lhokseumawe Industrial Zone developed in North Aceh, the number of transmigrants Aceh received increased exponentially. The influx of transmigrants to the Lkokseumawe Industrial Zone increased the population of the kabupaten of North Aceh by half between 1974 and 1987 (Kell 1995:20). By 1992, about a quarter of Aceh’s population of 3.5 million was in the North Aceh kabupaten. Uneducated migrants have increased competition for unskilled jobs.

Big industries have not offered a wide variety of jobs for the Acehnese, but they have attempted to support the province’s economy in other ways, e.g. by funding schools and Syiah Kuala University in Banda Aceh. Industries have brought health facilities, and electricity, to local populations, as well as rehabilitating mosques (Kell 1995:23).

Although companies in the Industrial Zone benefit from Aceh’s resources, little links the development of the Industrial Zone to the Acehnese economy. The North Aceh economy is inherently linked to Aceh’s capitol of Banda Aceh and through that to Jakarta, Medan, and the international economy, not the rest of Aceh. The industrial activity of North Aceh seems irrelevant to its agriculture. The absence of infrastructural development in areas outside the Lhokseumawe industrial enclave reflects this isolation, e.g. the lack of rural transportation in the area of North Aceh east of the industrial zone. Villagers in this area are still must use rafts to cross rivers, even to the district capitol.

Today in Aceh, farming remains the major means of employment. In the beginning of the 1990s at least 70% of the province’s population depended on agriculture for their livelihood. Acehnese land ownership has reached low levels in the most populated districts in the north and east. A study conducted in 1970 showed that each farmer in the kabupaten of Pidie worked 0.89 hectacres, and only 38.2% of them owned all the land they tilled. In 1973, research in a village in central Pidie showed that land ownership was 0.4 hectacres/per family. Almost half of the sample population owned no paddy. Most land each family farmed belonged to businessmen in Jakarta or Medan (Kell 1995:23). Farmers in North Aceh face similar problems. In 1990 approximately 60% of farmers owned less than half an hectacre. Renting land provides little hope for Acehnese seeking to live above subsistence levels. Families who own a hectacre of land can only expect an annual food surplus equivalent to two months of living. Farmers who rent land can barely feed themselves.

Government efforts to make Aceh the “rice barn of Indonesia” have not improved rural Acehnese agriculture. Village economies rest on rice cultivation, but rice is the agricultural product with the lowest price in Indonesia. The disparity between the price of rice and other commodities, along with the diminished value of farmers’ land due to the low price of rice, are the primary factors contributing to pressures forcing farmers to sell their land (Kell 1995:24). Farmers who sell their land are doomed to a life of unemployment and indebtedness to the landholders who bought the land. At best these farmers will find work as unskilled laborers for low wages. The “green revolution,” which in Aceh as elsewhere requires increased reliance on agricultural machinery, has decreased farmers’ needs for rural day laborers. Rural lumpenproletarianization has led to an increase of migration to the industrial sections of Aceh such as Lhokseumawe, North Aceh.

POLLUTION

Government run industries have brought large-scale pollution to the Lhokseumawe Industrial Zone. Government agencies have done little to protect Aceh’s environment. In 1983, the governor of Aceh set up the Industrial Zone Development and Control Team to oversee environmental matters in the Industrial enclave. The control team has failed to keep Aceh’s environment safe. Almost ten years after it was set up the Team had no expert on the disposal of hazardous material. 

Industries take full advantage of clean water supplies surrounding the area. Most Acehnese get their drinking water from wells, which are easily susceptible to pollution by factory waste. Water pollution from the Industrial Zone has damaged the local fishing industry. In 1991 approximately 60% of fisherman in traditional fishing villages near the enclave were below the poverty level, bordering on starvation, as a result of dangerously low catches over the past three years. These fishermen blame the deterioration of fish industry on pollution from industries in the Industrial Zone. Only a fifth of the population around the Industrial Zone had sources of drinking water that met official standards of cleanliness by 1992.

These industries’ main means of disposing toxic chemical wastes has been burning and dumping toxic chemicals at sea. Mobil Oil Indonesia (MOI), a joint venture between Exxon-Mobil (USA) and Pertamina (the Indonesian state oil company), which produces LNG, condensate, gas, propane, and butane, is a major polluter. In December 1991, eighty-eight people from two villages near a LNG plant needed treatment after an ammonia gas leak. The head of one of the villages affected said that such incidents are common. In 1991, the provincial government held the MOI refinery at Arun accountable for discharging hazardous materials (oil) into public drainage channels, damaging dozens of hectares of shrimp and fish ponds. In November, 1992, an underground pipeline carrying crude oil from the Arun gas field to the LNG refinery in the enclave, exploded and caught fire near a village neighboring the Industrial Zone. Five villagers suffered serious burns, three houses burned down, and crops and livestock perished. Such hazards continue to devastate local communities and force their relocation. 

EROSION OF POLITICAL AUTONOMY

Development in Aceh rests firmly in the hands of the central government. Since 1969, Jakarta has contributed 80% of the development funds in Indonesia, thus keeping local government dependent. The central government appoints planners and development staff from the center, not local and regional leaders. Development staff, the “technocrats,” are to implement the center’s (Javanese) policies.

Although the New Order instilled the technocratic elite in Aceh to create “a secular, developmental program for Indonesia” (Kell 1995:43) the military retain preeminent power in Aceh. Acehnese technocrats attribute Aceh’s marginality to cultural isolation and exploitation by Java. They seek to break to “circle of isolation” that created Acehnese unrest. As Aceh’s governor stated: 

Aceh is a region which is isolated from other regions. This isolation derives from a social formation whose world-view, attitudes, and social structure have neither developed nor moved in a dynamic fashion. Isolation has a negative impact on our political life, society, and economy. These three factors have an influence on maintaining the attitude and outlook of the Acehnese….because there is a correlation between economic development and politics, development policies which fail have a negative influence on political attitudes. The attitude of the people develops in such a way as if they no longer trust the regional leaders’ capabilities. Government authority fails in the eyes of the people. All of this contributes to turning people to negative politics. Past experiences have given rise to frustration and despair will lead to negativism. This negativism which has beset the Acehnese people for years on end will only serve to strengthen regional isolation. The primary cause of societal tensions is a stagnating economy; it has nothing to do with religious, cultural or racial issues. (Kell 1995:43)

Although Acehnese in theory enjoy autonomy in the fields of religion, education, and customary law (adat) under “Special Region Status,” the centralization of state power under the New Order deprived Aceh’s provincial government of autonomy in economic matters. Profit from exports once made Golden Age Aceh a powerful sultanate. Today the profit goes to the central government in Java, thus minimizing the possibility of Acehnese secession. Less than 10% of the profits return to the province (Business Week December 28, 1998:32). Taxation and the high cost of domestic shipping plague Aceh’s economy. Ports in Aceh lack the capacity to handle international trade, except for ports designed to export LNG. Aceh’s economy relies heavily on non-Acehnese ports like Belawan in North Sumatra for international trader (Kell 1995:27).

Profits from Aceh’s natural resources, especially LNG, reached great importance to Indonesia’s economy as a result of the energy boom, resulting in much debate about how to distribute the profits between the province and national government. Many Acehnese realize that Aceh provides at least 11% of Indonesia’s exports but receives little in return, and resent it (Morris 1983:261). Despite rich natural resources and increasing industrial development, Aceh ranks among the ten provinces in Indonesia with the highest percentage of “poor” villages, a characteristic Aceh shares with other resource rich areas of Indonesia such as Riau, East Kalimantan, and Irian Jaya. In 1993 over 40% of the 5,643 villages in Aceh were “poor”. The variables the Bureau of Statistics examined were: “(1) the extent of social and economic infrastructure and facilities; (2) the state of housing and environmental facilities and; (3) the social and demographic situation of the inhabitants” (Kell 1995:53-54). The survey found Aceh to be the poorest province in Sumatra. 

The 1971 and 1977 elections for national, provincial, and kabupaten representative assemblies brought to light the contrast the two conflicting ideologies in Aceh: Islamist vs. technocratic. Supporters of the New Order hoped that elections would support development, and weaken political parties which “proposed ideologies that were divisive and thus not conducive to development” (Morris 1983:287). The new government party Golkar defended the New Order’s platform against “ideological” parties, Islamist or democratic. 

Election rules included “four don’ts” stated in 1977 by the commander of Kopkamib “Operations Command to Restore Security and Order”: “don’t intimidate your opponents; don’t offend the dignity of the government and its officials; don’t disrupt national unity; and don’t criticize the policies of the government” (Morris 1983:289). One technocrat who campaigned for Golkar in 1971 said: 

The 1971 election results cannot be taken as an indicator of much of anything other than the pressure the army put on people to vote for Golkar. The army can force you to vote and the army can change your vote. We went along with this. Why? If the Acehnese voted to Parmusi (Reformist Muslim party), what would we get? Nothing. So we worked for Golkar. (Morris 1983:290) 

Golkar won the 1971 election in Aceh by a thread, 49.7% to 48.9% for the four Islamist parties. Nationally, Golkar won 62.8%, Islamic parties 27.1%. Aceh was one of three provinces (out of 25) in Indonesia in which Golkar did not win an absolute majority. Golkar won a plurality in South Aceh and Southeast Aceh, where military intimidation was most effective. In the heartland of Acehnese culture-Aceh Besar, Pidie, and North Aceh- Golkar received a mere 34.1%of the vote to the four Islamist parties 65.5%.

In 1977, the government pressured all political parties to amalgamate into two new parties: the Development Unity Party (Partai Persatuan Pembangunan, PPP), and the Indonesian Democratic Party (Partai Demokrasi Indonesia, PDI). The former comprised the four Islamist parties; the latter, the former nationalist and Christian parties. Golkar’s campaign centered on the motif that only the government could bring about development whereas PPP could not. Technocrats feared that a PPP victory in Aceh would trigger a negative response from Jakarta, jeopardizing development funds.

Intent on preventing another Golkar loss in Pidie, the police arrested dozens of PPP activists and held them, ostensibly under suspicion of involvment with the extremist Komando Jihad (Holy War Command). Military intimidation in other regions varied. In Aceh Besar, the campaign proceeded without arrests. PPP was allowed to hold a limited number of rallies in Aceh’s more isolated regions where PPP had little chance of winning.

Two incidents during late March 1977 hurt Golkar’s campaign in Aceh: The fist occurred when the national Foreign Minister, accompanied by an influential Acehnese contractor whose company had won the job of building roads in North and South Aceh, visited Aceh to support Golkar. During one of Foreign Minister’s campaign appearances the contractor said that his company won the contract to build roads because he supported Golkar. This public statement revealed the open secret to the public, that “development as defined by the technocrats…seemed to serve no other purpose than to encourage self-interest at the expense of the broader community”(Morris 1983:297). The second incident was when the Foreign Minister was scheduled to meet with Teungku Daud Beureueh by his mosque in Pidie. When the Foreign Minister’s motorcade stopped in front of the mosque, the chairman of Golkar in Aceh told him that the army commander had forbidden the meeting. The news spread throughout Aceh that Golkar had insulted Aceh’s leading religious authority.

PPP support among Acehnese was widespread. The Islamists rejected the inequalities that globalizing “development” created. Acehnese Muslims believed in the equality of believers. The Foreign Minister’s appearance at the mosque violated this principle. “Instead of attempting to apply the promise of moral egalitarianism to social life, the exact reverse took place; the inequalities and particularisms that divide men in daily life were brought to the very sanctuary where, through ritual, men came to transcend these inequalities and particularisms” (Morris 1983:297). Acehnese viewed Golkar as antithetical to an egalitarian community of the faithful.

The system of regional appointments in place since 1974 meant that, even if PPP did win the election, the Islamists could not install their own appointees as governor or bupati “district head.” Indonesian elections are to legitimate the existing regime. Votes for PPP meant nothing more than protest. 

In spite of military intimidation in Aceh, Golkar only received 42.1% of the 1977 vote in Aceh to PPP’s 57.3%. Despite last minute military intimidation PPP won Aceh Basar, Pidie, and North Aceh.

1^st Movement (1976-1982)

Soon after the 1977 election, a separatist movement emerged in Aceh under the leadership of Hasan Muhammad di Tiro, who had been involved in the Darul Islam rebellion in the 1950s. Di Tiro claimed descent from the Acehnese hero Teungku Chik di Tiro, who led the Acehnese war against the Dutch (Kell 1995:61).[vii] The Acheh/Sumatra National Liberation Front, later called the Gerakan Aceh Merdeka (GAM) or Free Aceh Movement, had a core membership of approximately 200 persons, many of whom were young Acehnese intellectuals, and was located mainly in the regions of Pidie, North Aceh, and East Aceh. Most of GAM’s now banished leadership live in Sweden, a few in Malaysia, where the Acehnese population is estimated at 10,000. The latter account for much of GAM’s funding.

In the 1950s di Tiro had argued that a federal system could mitigate the problems in Indonesia. Ethnic groups other than Javanese would hold political power in their home areas and control their own economic resources. The failure of the struggle for autonomy eventually led him to seek complete independence. In May 1977, di Tiro issued a statement declaring Negara Aceh Merdeka, the Aceh Free State. 

Di Tiro had close links with Muslim insurgencies in the Phillippines and Indonesia, and chaired the political committee of Libyan Colonel Gaddafi’s “Mathaba Against Imperialism, Racism, Zionism, and Fascism” in the 1980s. This organization supplies moral and financial support to “liberation movements” around the world. Approximately 250 GAM fighters received training (but not arms) in Libya as early as 1978 (Kell 1995:72). Guerrillas launched a number of attacks on the Indonesian armed services, to seize arms.

Although GAM had a small core membership and lacked arms or powerful foreign allies, it managed to gain “widespread attention and sympathy” (Morris 1983:300) throughout the province. Perhaps because Di Tiro’s declaration made no mention of religious issues, it failed to gain the support of Acehnese ulama, and thus of most Acehnese. Because of its small size, the early movement had few military actions but it did manage to spread its message to North and Central Aceh and Aceh Besar. Di Tiro’s writings were quite racist, targeting Javanese (Kell 1995:62). Pamphlets appeared throughout Aceh and occasionally an Aceh Merdeka flag fluttered over rice fields. In 1979, Hasan di Tiro fled abroad. Soon after military force quelled the insurgency. Military repression lasted in Aceh until 1982. Trials of alleged GAM supporters continued until 1984. Although the rebellion failed, the social, political, and economic causes underlying GAM remained. 

2^nd Movement

During the 1980s a number of GAM fighters, many veterans of di Tiro’s movement, remained in Aceh’s forests. When GAM re-surfaced in 1989, it was better organized and covered Aceh Besar, Central Aceh, Pidie, and North and East Aceh. Also, to gain support among the strongly Muslim Acehnese, Islam played a greater role in its ideology. One senior member of the movement claimed that it had 750 members, a number that Aceh’s Governor believed accurate. In 1991, the regional Indonesian army commander in Aceh stated of GAM fighters: “they are everywhere, and they live with the people. In cafes, in markets, in neighborhoods, in prayer houses, there are GPK (acronym for “Gang of Security Disturbers”)” (Kell 1995:67). When asked about the size of the movement’s membership he replied: “I’ve never counted….Hundreds of thousands? Yes, with their followers maybe there are. The core? Perhaps there are hundreds” (Kell 1995:67). GAM forces drew from a wide array of people in Aceh: rich and poor, PPP and Golkar politicians, businessmen, traders, teachers, fishermen, civil servants and farmers. Many veterans of the Darul Islam supported GAM. 

The military program against GAM, which began in 1989, turned Aceh into a “Daerah Operasi Militer” Military Operation Region. The main tactic was “shock therapy,” a program designed to wreak fear among Acehnese so that they would sever their connections with the insurgency. President Suharto stated: 

The Peace was disturbed. It was as if there was no longer peace in this country. It was as though all there was, was fear…We had to apply treatment to take some stern action. What kind of action? It had to be with violence. But this violence did not mean just shooting people, pow! pow! Just like that. No! But those who tried to resist, like it or not, had to be shot…some of the corpses were left in public places, just like that. This was for the purpose of ‘shock therapy’…this was done so that the general public would understand that there was still someone capable of taking action to tackle the problem of criminality. (Amnesty International July 28, 1993:40)

This policy was state terrorism against Acehnese, to terrify them into passive loyalty to the central government, not unlike the 1940’s Nazi policy of Shrecklichkeit in Czechoslovakia. 

Indonesian soldiers are “alat negara” or tools of the state (Djuli 1999). State terrorism includes “extrajudicial murders”, unlawful but deliberate killings, carried out by the military from orders from the central government, of civilians and suspected GAM fighters. From 1989 to 1993, Indonesian soldiers in and near Aceh killed some 2,000 Acehnese civilians, including elderly and children, according to conservative estimates (Amnesty International 1993:17). Most of those killed were villagers living near areas in which GAM is most active. The resulting terror, the rulers hoped, would scare the local population into working with the Indonesian military to track down suspected rebels. Other civilians died in reprisals for the death of soldiers, or failing to comply with military orders. Instead of taking GAM rebels prisoner, government troops pursued a policy of “shoot to kill” (Amnesty International 1993:17). This state terrorism resulted in many Acehnese fleeing to neighboring Malaysia for asylum.

By mid-1990 GAM had taken advantage of the lack of “government authority in rural areas” (Kell 1995:68) and spread their message to the much of the Acehnese population. Local government officials were alienated from village populations.Separatists filled the gap with their message. Dissension within the Indonesian armed services (ABRI) benefited GAM. One ABRI General acknowledged in an interview that many ABRI sympathized with GAM: “there were ABRI who, because members of their family were with the GPK, carried out their duties halfheartedly if they were on patrol” (Kell 1995:68). In 1991, a series of courts-martial began to crack down on GAM sympathizers in ABRI. In one instance, the military sentenced an army commander in Pidie who had set up a cease-fire with the local GAM commander to fourteen years imprisonment and dismissed from him from the armed forces.

Insurgent activity reached its climax by mid-1990. Rebel military targeted and attacked Indonesian police and army, civil authorities and alleged informers. Most attacks took place in North Aceh and around the Industrial Zone. This Zone is the MOI operational zone. Mobil Oil an PT Aran have funded the construction of two military barracks in the area (Corporate Watch Oct. 10, 1999). The military committed most human rights violations in North Aceh, many involving the Kopassus (Special Units Command) units based at Camp Rancong (Business Week, Dec. 28, 1998:68). Today, Camp Rancong no longer stands, but human rights abuses continue, many at Post 13. MOI has also provided equipment for the military to dig mass graves. One such mass grave at Sentang Hill contained at least a dozen corpses; another was at Tengkorak (Skull) Hill (Business Week, Dec. 28, 1998:72). One reason the military committed these atrocities was to protect foreign investments and industries in the region. 

GAM targeted transmigrant families living in North Aceh and the Lhokseumawe Industrial Zone. Thousands of transmigrants fled to bigger towns, or even away from Aceh. Aceh’s governor publicly apologized to the central government for GAM’s damage to transmigrasi. 

Although GAM leaders claim that part of their goal is to set up an independent Islamic state of Aceh, ulama did not lead the movement in the 1980s and early 1990s. Most distinguished ulama in the province enlisted in the army’s counterinsurgency campaign as spokesmen for the central government. 

In July of 1990 the Aceh chairman of the MUI “Majelis Ulama Indonesia” (Indonesian Council of Ulama), announced that his organization was ready to help the government. MUI sent small teams into the countryside, where the rebels were active, to make door to door visits, and address gatherings at prayer houses and mosques. MUI printed and spread 100,000 pamphlets to Acehnese urging GAM leaders and sympathizers to give up their struggle. 

Pesantren-based ulama played a similar role in the counterinsurgency. The widely respected head of a pesantren in Pidie, gave frequent speeches urging public support of the government. A head of another pesantren in the same area of Pidie gave an anti-GPK speech at a rally of 40,000 people, in which he stated that killing separatists’ was halal (permitted under Islam) and for the benefit of the Islamic community (Kell 1995:79). 

Although MUI and pesantren ulama supported the central government and ABRI, they also protested the military’s tactics in quieting the rebellion. The Aceh chairman for MUI pushed for less violent tactics:

The DI/TII experience can be used in handling what is officially called the Aceh Gang of Security Disturbers (GPK). We must understand the problem and who the perpetrators are. We must be prudent. Because this flare-up is occurring in Aceh, yes, we must understand the Acehnese….Firm action is certainly needed. We invite them to join in developing Aceh. (Kell 1995: 79)

He later said that movements like GAM would continue in Aceh as long as efforts to quell them did “’not conform to religious norms. For example the counterinsurgency should rely on the strength of ulama, not on physical force. In a meeting with the governor of Aceh in 1990, a number of leading Acehnese public figures criticized ABRI’s abuse of physical force. The chairman called for the army commander to apologize to the Acehnese people and to initiate a peace conference on Aceh.

The rebellion worked to the technocrats’ advantage. They argued that increased economic development would quell it. In 1990, Jakarta quadrupled Aceh’s development budget, marking greater recognition by the center of Aceh’s importance to the nation. Taking the money entailed technocrats’ accepting the government’s military solution to the rebellion in Aceh. In the words of Aceh’s Governor in 1992:

At the time of the GPK (Gang of Security Disruptors) there were some who said security first, postpone prosperity. Now, sometimes I was at odds with people at the top. I said, in an atmosphere like this, sir, put a lot of money into Aceh to convince the people. If it is stopped, this means we help them win. No way, here the two must run together, there can be no competition. This is a problem of war. (Kell 1995:81)

Jakarta refused to acknowledge political motives behind the violent disturbances in Aceh. Instead the government blamed these disturbances on “criminal gangs,” “Security Disrupters Movement” (GPK). To control the “GPK” (GAM), military forces in Aceh employed a strategy of curfews, interrogations, check points, house raids, intense surveillance and large scale arrests. Soldiers burned the houses of suspected GAM supporters to the ground. Armed Forces subjected wives and family of suspected rebels to abuses ranging from arrest, to rape, and torture to death. Detainees often suffer painful interrogation or torture to extract confessions. Methods of torture vary including: rape; electrocution; genital mutilation; sexual molestation; food and sleep deprivation; cutting flesh with razors and knives; and beating on the head, shins and torso with fists, lenghts of wood, bottles, iron bars, or electric cables. In 1989, soldiers went to the house of a suspected GAM rebel, and found only the suspect’s wife. The soldiers did not believe her story that her husband, a fisherman, was out at sea and would be gone for days. They forced her at gunpoint to strip, jabbed her body with a rifle and forced her to admit her husband was a rebel. Afterwards they burned her house to the ground, and she left the village to stay with relatives in another village. Nearly 6 months later soldiers came to the village where she resided, warned the locals not to give shelter to people involved with GAM and named her one of these people. She then fled to another village. There police arrested and killed her after a visit with her husband (Amnesty International 1994:4). 

President Suharto doubled the numbers of counterinsurgency troops to 12,000 (Kell 1995:74) in 1990. After the additional troops arrived, “mysterious killings”, in which “unknown” assassins killed hundreds of villagers began in such areas as Sigli, Pidie, Peureulak, and East Aceh. These “mysterious killings” played a crucial role in the “shock therapy” program. The killers left the corpses in public places-in fields and plantations, next to a stream or river, beside a main road. A certain type of knot used to tie their thumbs and sometimes their feet together shows that most of the corpses were prisoners at the time of their death. The corpses show signs of battering and torturing before being shot at close range. The military usually dumped the bodies far from their home village. Family or relatives did not recover most of these bodies out of fear of military retribution. Most corpses showed up in base areas of the rebel movement, East and North Aceh, although they have also been found in other parts of Aceh and even on the provincial boundary of North Sumatra (Amnesty International 1993:18). For the strongly Muslim Acehnese, mistreating the dead, e.g. leaving corpses out in the open to rot or disfiguring corpses, is sacrilegious. Under Islam, proper burial of the dead is a fardhu kifayah, or social obligation. If no one in the community buries the dead person, as promptly and as intact as Islam requires, the entire Muslim community is responsible for the sin (Djuli 1999). One 22 year old Acehnese who fled to Malaysia recalled that an ABRI soldier had ordered him and a friend to carry the freshly killed corpse of a GAM rebel back to their village, and there to assemble the villagers. The commander of the local military unit ordered the corpse displayed. He put his foot on the corpse’s head and said to the villagers: “This is an Acehnese head. You want to be like this?” (Amnesty International 1993:18) Only the next day, after the village imam pleaded with the military officers, would they let the people bury the corpse.

Some victims of the “mysterious killings” were merely shot and thrown into mass graves, some of which contained hundreds of corpses, not tortured and left in public places. For instance soldiers murdered a group of 56 captives along the road from Bireuen, to Takengon, leaving the corpses in a ravine near the road. Similarly, soldiers massacred scores of people from Sidomulyo, Kota Makmur, Aceh Utara, and dumped their bodies into a mass grave. Witnesses say that victims were made to stand along the edge of a steep ravine and then shot. The bodies fell into the ravine and were then covered with earthmoving equipment, as in the Nazi slaughter at Babi Yar. When a mass grave was found near the village of Alue Mira in mid-1990, an ABRI General admitted the existence of the mass grave but disputed the number of bodies. In 1990 he said: 

The grave certainly exists but I don’t think it could have been 200 bodies. It’s hard to tell with arms and heads all mixed up. (Amnesty International 1993:20)

Later in the 1990s, military and government authorities strongly denied that government troops were responsible for the mass murders in Aceh and blamed the killings on GAM. Although the Free Aceh Movement has committed acts of violence, eyewitnesses, victims’ families, and large number of independent observers such as human rights lawyers, journalists, religious and community leaders agree that government forces committed most of the “mysterious killings.” A soldier stated:

Okay, that[public display of corpses] does happen. But the rebels use terrorist strategies so we are forced to use anti-terror strategies. (Amnesty International 1993:21)

When a journalist asked an ABRI General if the “mysterious killings” were “shock therapy”, the General answered: 

As a strategy, that’s true. But our goal is not bad. Our goal must be correct…We only kill members [of GAM].

(Amnesty International 1993: 21)

Apparently disappearances and arbitrary detainment generally follow a pattern. Military authorities often detain whole villages or neighborhoods without warrant. Family members of detainees are not told of the arrest or the whereabouts of their arrested family member. When family members ask about detainees, they get little government help, because no public registers of detainees are kept. Detainees in the custody of military police (Brimbob) or Kopassus are apt to disappear. One Acehnese said: “If you’re taken away by the military you have a fifty-fifty chance of coming back. If you’re taken away by Kopassus you can forget it” (Amnesty International 1994:4).

The Indonesian Code of Criminal Procedure says that suspects must be given a warrant of arrest unless they are found committing a crime. It also guarantees against arbitrary arrest and detainment. Under the Code, only Brimbob has the right to carry out arrests. Detainees also have the right to be accompanied by legal counsel of their choice at every stage of investigation (Amnesty International 1993:31).

Large official ceremonies with the intent of showing “the mercy” of the military and their “respect for human rights” have accompanied detainees’ release. In 1991, 77 detainees in Medan were released. One military leader announced that the captives were being “…released from detention not because the authorities captured the wrong man, but to give them an opportunity to clear their minds” (Amnesty International 1993:29). One RegionalMilitary Commander stated: “Bear in mind that you are found guilty. But the level of your guilt is low, so we give you a chance to improve yourselves” (Amnesty International 1993:29).Suspected rebels do not get a fair trial because the military is also the judiciary, with the authority to determine guilt or innocence. Generally, captives gain release only by signing an oath of loyalty to the Jakarta government and the national ideology, Pancasila.

The military has relocated isolated villages to locations close to main roads for easier surveillance. Besides “shock therapy”, the military practices (shishankamrata) or “people’s total defense and security system,” a strategy used to involve civilians in the military campaigns. One example of this strategy involved a tactic called the pagar betis, or “fence of legs,” in which a military unit surrounds itself with villagers, so that it can attack the rebels but the rebels will fear killing their friends and neighbors if they shoot back. As in East Timor, the military encourages vigilante groups operating under military control. Each group typically consists of twenty to thirty young men. The vigilantes have the job of identifying, capturing or killing alleged rebels. Failure to do may result in public torture, arrest or execution. “The youths are our front line. They know best who are GPK. We then settle the matter” (Kompas July 11 1991). Aceh’s governor estimates total number of civilians in these groups at 60,000. The army provided basic training, but the only weapons were bamboo spears, not firearms, which might be “seized by the GPK” (Kell 1995:75). In an interview from November 1990, the Regional Military Commander summarized: 

I have told the community, if you find a terrorist, kill him. There’s no need to investigate him. Don’t let people be the victims. If they don’t do as you order them, shoot them on the spot, or butcher them. I tell members of the community to carry sharp weapons, a machete or whatever. If you meet a terrorist, kill him. We have written and unwritten laws…The people know the unwritten laws so they won’t kill anyone who’s not in the wrong. Well, one or two maybe, but that’s the risk. (Amnesty International 1993:14)

ABRI also forced Acehnese villagers to join the “Integrated Territorial Activities Program,” set up in 1990, to help win support for the military. This operation focused on areas where GAM was strong. Military and local government authorities in charge of the program doled out development funds. They tried to instill a sense of patriotism and Indonesian nationalist pride, as opposed to Acehnese chauvinism. In 1992, the military commander over the most unruly districts of Aceh stated that in the past most Acehnese didn’t know the Indonesian national anthem, whereas today “everyone” knew it (Kell 1993:76).

By October 1990, these policies forced rebel guerrillas to take refuge in isolated highland areas. Army posts around these areas cut off the guerrillas’ access to towns and villages. In November 1990, a group of Indonesian lawyers stated that Acehnese “hatred and fear of ABRI” had reached a peak. Indonesian militia brought in from outside of Aceh “were ignorant and neglectful of local customs and traditions, thus heightening the level of popular antipathy"(Kell 1993:76).

In 1991, GAM fighters began fleeing to Malaysia. The Indonesian armed forces cornered off the northern and eastern coastal areas of Aceh to halt this movement. By the end of 1991, ABRI had attacked or murdered several senior and Libyan-trained guerrillas hiding in the hills and forests. On December 28, they killed the commander of GAM’s “Pase Region” (North Aceh), whom they believed to be the overall head of GAM’s military campaign. Despite the commander’s death, the resistance continued. A year later ABRI proclaimed that its troops had killed GAM’s “deputy head of state,” a man who had been a leading figure in the Darul Islam rebellion in the 1950s. By the time Suharto resigned in 1993 the second GAM uprising had failed, although distribution of Free Aceh propaganda continued. ABRI’s General said that although “physically” the “GPK” had been stopped, the people needed to remain vigilant because a minority kept separatist ideas alive (Kell 1995:77). 

Third Rebellion (1998-present)-Civil society Movement

When Suharto stepped down from power the New Order came to an end. The DOM period in Aceh also came to an end, but military oppression of Acehnese continued.Suharto’s second in command, B.J. Habibie, came to power promising to bring about democratic rule and an end to military control of the government (Deutsche Presse, May 21, 1998). Under his command ABRI changed its name to TNI (Tentara Nasional Indonesia) the Indonesian National Army, but remained the same except for excluding the police. In Aceh all the units remain grouped together as the Pasukan Penendak Rusuh Massa, “Mass Riots Repression Corps”. 

From 1998-1999, mass media uncovered many human rights abuses in Aceh. In response to this attention, numerous organizations demanded a fair trial for, and compensation to, Acehnese who suffered from these abuses. 

In December 1998, Business Week ran a feature story: “What did Mobil Know?” (Business Week, December 28, 1998). The article accused Mobil Oil (now Exxon-Mobil) of conniving at human rights abuses in Aceh and providing equipment to the Indonesian military so that they could dig mass graves. Exxon-Mobil Oil owns 35% of P.T. Arun, a LNG producer in Aceh. Disappearances and mass killings have been frequent near Mobil installations since GAM first attacked them in the 1980s. A former Mobil employee told Business Week that rumors frequently passed around the company cafeteria about Mobil equipment used to dig mass graves: “Every time I drove out there (Bukit Sentang), the subcontractors stopped my car. They said, No don’t go out there. Don’t you know the army is killing people and burying them in mass graves with Mobil equipment?” (Business Week December 28,1998:73) Mobil denied providing equipment for the army to dig mass graves but did admit to providing food, fuel and digging equipment to soldiers who guarded the region. 

GAM has continued attacking soldiers guarding Exxon-Mobil facilities. In December, 2000, the GAM commander, claimed responsibility for killing three soldiers guarding Mobil-Exxon facilities in retaliation for military abuses in the area: “We warned Exxon Mobil to immediately end its security contract with the TNI (Indonesian military) because security troops guarding the company have abused their authority by harassing residents…We have no intention to ban or disturb Exxon-Mobil’s operations as long as they do not facilitate TNI soldiers’ abuse of citizens” (Agence Free Presse December 12, 2000). 

According to the Aceh NGO’s forum, as of October 28, 1998, 2687 people were missing in the three dangerous kabupaten; 1322 women were widowed; 3392 children had been left fatherless; and 173 women had been raped during the DOM period (Jakarta Post November 30, 1998). This pattern of human rights abuse continued well into Habibie’s stay in office. In one incident troops executed 41 people they claimed to be separatist guerrillas after a raid on the isolated village of Beutong. A week later, twenty bodies were found in a grave nearby (Jakarta Post July 27, 1999). Often military violence led to violent reprisals. On July 27, separatist rebels avenged the Beutong massacre by killing a policeman and his teenage son in West Aceh (Jakarta Post July 28, 1999). In October, 1999, The National Commission For Human Rights in Aceh stated publicly that it found no reason to believe that those massacred in Beuton had put up any violent resistance (Jakarta Post November 1, 1999).

By August, 1998 the Indonesian military began withdrawing from Aceh. President Habibie issued a formal apology for the brutality committed during the Daerah Operasi Militer period (Jakarta Post September 1, 1998). Acehnese, angered by past years of military abuse, threw rocks at soldiers departing Aceh, a week and a half later, and set a number of buildings on fire in the Lhokseumawe Industrial Zone as the last soldiers left. The rioting, which lasted two days, left two dead and destroyed over 200 buildings, including the Golkar military and government party headquarters. Soon after this riot the military returned to Aceh (Toronto Star September 3, 1998). In 1999, President Habibie went to Aceh with TNI General Wiranto to ease tensions there. During this trip, one ABRI general went as far as to apologize “if excesses had been done by his troops” (Djuli 1999). 

REFERENDUM

Throughout the Habibie regime, violence continued between GAM fighters and military costing many lives. Between May and August of 1999, fighting between GAM and the military cost the lives of at least 211 people. According to police, GAM and the military burned dozens of school and government buildings down (Jakarta Post August 8, 1999).

When President Habibie promised a referendum in East Timor in 1999 Acehnese demanded the same right. On November 5, 1999, over 50,000 people peacefully rallied in the town of Sigli, banging drums and chanting “Referendum? Freedom! Independent State!” (St. Petersburg Times November 8, 1999) Three days later at least one million Acehnese people showed up for an even larger rally held in support of a referendum in front of the Baiturrahman Great Mosque in the capitol of Aceh. (The total Acehnese population is only 3.5 million) Most Acehnese feel that the only way to rid Aceh of military repression is through a referendum for self determination. The following statement from Students Solidarity for Reform/Asian Conference on Aceh reflects Acehnese popular support for a referendum:

I think the parties that are most responsible for all these [abuses] are Habibie and ABRI. Habibie who has come to Aceh sometime ago said in front of thousands of Acehnese people, and in the name of God, in the name of morality and in the name of humanity, that he would stop the State violence against the Acehnese people, he would stop the military oppressive acts against the Acehnese people, he would stop all the human rights violations, and he would order investigations into such violations. In reality all these are lies of Habibie, lies of the Indonesian government in order to calm down the situation in Aceh. In such a situation, today the students have come up with a proposal for solution that we feel most suitable, that should be acceptable to all parties, that is more realistic, that is more democratic: Referendum. Besides continuing the struggle for referendum to be held in Aceh, we students are being made very busy these with humanitarian works to help the people who are continuously being harassed by the military that they have to flee their homes to find refuge in mosques and open spaces. We are trying to help the people who are continuously being oppressed by the Government. We do all these facing all the risks to ourselves. Some of our friends have been beaten up badly some detained. All such violence cannot but strengthen our belief that the root of the problem in Aceh is the military. Consequently, all the civilian and democratic forces in Aceh are trying to have the military pack their bags and leave Aceh. The political policy that systematically and continuously increases the presence of soldiers in Aceh must be stopped. (Djuli 1999) 

The Information Center for an Aceh Referendum (SIRA) led mostly by students, has campaigned at least two years for a referendum in Aceh like that in East Timor. SIRA polls show that a overwhelming majority of Acehnese want a referendum, and would vote for independence (McCall December 21, 2000). Unlike GAM, SIRA has campaigned for a non-violent solution to the problems in Aceh. Although SIRA’s purpose is to gain a referendum for Aceh, while GAM’s is for outright independence, they are often lumped together as adversaries of the central government. One GAM commander told an interviewer that GAM and SIRA “are partners. We are inseparable like father and son and like sugar and the taste of sweetness” (Zulkifli December 2000). The SIRA chairman’s remarks bear striking similarity to GAM’s: he emphasizes independence rather than referendum and believes that Aceh never agreed to be part of the republic of Indonesia: “the Dutch had no right to hand over a sovereign state to its erstwhile colony, he says” (Zulkifli December 2000). 

Internally displaced persons (IDP)

Military repression has created thousands of “internally displaced persons”, or people forced to leave their homes but unable to leave Aceh as refugees. By July 1999 the number of “internally displaced persons” had reached 42,000, for the North, East and Pidie regions of Aceh; the regions the military thinks of as rawan, unruly or dangerous.The Jakarta based United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees stated: 

As far as the office of the office of the UN for Refugees is concerned, as far as the UN possible involvement, particularly the UNHCR’s involvement in the displaced persons in concerned; we do not have an automatic mandate to look after internally displaced persons. It is under particular circumstances, and in particular situation possible, the Office of the High Commissioner being requested by the Secretary General or by a resolution of the General Assembly to provide is good offices in situations of internally displaced persons and normally when that is the case there is also a request from the government of that country concerned, in the particular case of Indonesia that would mean the Government of Indonesia. I know from various discussions with a variety of people in the Government who feel that an involvement of an international agency, to provide relief and to some extent to provide protection to people who are being displaced as a result of the conflict, is being discussed and I am aware of these discussions and I am involved to some extent in these discussions. For the time being there is no clear decision one way or the other and it is therefore, except for the presence of the ICRC which has a very small presence at Lhok Seumawe, there is other international agency involved in providing relief to the displaced persons in Aceh. It is of course from my perspective of very great concern that too many people are being displaced, the reasons why they are being displaced are disputed, to say the least, I am not in a position, I have been in Indonesia only a few months, and more over as a national of the Netherlands I would tend to be rather cautious when I talk about Aceh because of conflicts of the Netherlands and Aceh have historical relationship I think, therefore I tend to be rather modest but I does concern me and there are increasing number of displaced persons in Aceh by all accounts there are at least 42,000 and possibly many more of which we don not know. What concerns me is the fact that there is random violence against the educational institutions, lots of schools in recent weeks according to my information, have been burnt and thousands of school children are affected, many people have left their villages, are presently sheltered in religious institutions or in other places under very often difficult circumstances, to say the least. Clearly this is not a situation that can last, that can continue, dialogue is the way out, I am convinced that this conflict can only be resolved through dialogues and through discussions, open, from all sides. (Djuli 1999). 

Up to 200,000 refugees left their homes in June and July of 1999 due to fear of riot troops, but many returned when troops left. By the beginning of September, at least 45,000 people remained in shelters (The Jakarta Post September 4, 1999). The head of Aceh’s health crisis center estimated that at least 73 people died in Acehnese shelters during August and September of 1999. The director of the Aceh Human Rights Care Forum said: 

There are at least 350,000 people in Aceh who have had to seek refuge due to the prolonged unrest. The Indonesian government has been too slow in handling the refugees. If Indonesia is not capable of dealing with them, why don’t we ask the United Nation’s High Commissioner for Refugees to handle this? So far the UN’s High Commissioner for Refugees cannot interfere as the refugees are all locals and the government of Indonesia has never given the Commissioner permission to step into the matter. (The Jakarta Post December 9, 2000)

Most Internally Displaced Persons who do not make it to shelters find refuge under plastic tarps on the grounds of schools, and mosques.

Many refugees flee to North Sumatra. By the beginning of December 2000 there were around 13,719 Acehnese starving in Langkat, North Sumatra. Their income is barely enough to live on. Each refugee receives only 400 grams of rice/per day and about Rp1500. They have little chance of increasing their income with work because they have to compete with locals, who are unhappy about the influx of refugees in their province (Djuli 1999).

In August 1999, leaders of the PPP arrived in Aceh. They promised to bring peace, and provide aid for the province’s increasing number of refugees. The visit was short lived. GAM rebels disturbed their visit because the government refused to meet with members of GAM, or to conduct negotiations with international mediators (Agence France Presse August 28, 1999). Many Acehnese boycotted the 1999 election out of contempt of the central government. 

After the 1999 election protesters set out upon another demonstration lasting several days to ask newly elected President Abdurrahman Wahid for a referendum on autonomy, and to demand that he fix the social and economic problems in the province (The Jakarta Post October 1, 1999). Wahid ordered all combat troops withdrawn from Aceh so that the government could pursue non-military solutions in Aceh (The Jakarta Post November 4, 1999). A month later, he promised a referendum for Aceh in seven months. He did not specify the topic of the referendum, but did add that an independence referendum would require parliamentary approval. A GAM spokesman rejected any referendum not addressing the issue of independence. In a later interview he said that GAM would only negotiate with the Dutch, because of GAM’s assertion that Aceh never agreed to be part of the republic of Indonesia. Still later, GAM’s secretary-general, in exile in Kuala Lumpur, said the insurgents would negotiate with the government if the negotiations were held overseas in the presence of a neutral third party, to ensure GAM leaders’ safety (Straights Times Press November 20, 1999; Agence France Presse November 20, 1999). But the government’s Minister of Defense announced that Indonesia would hold a referendum on whether to adopt Islamic law, shari’ah, in Aceh, not independence (The Jakarta Post November 23, 1999). 

Despite President Wahid’s reputation as a humanitarian, the number of human rights abuses under his administration outstrips the number under Habibie. In the first week of December 2000, the Aceh human Rights Care Forum announced that the death toll in the province for the year was 841. The year before, under Habibie’s administration, it was only 393. Of the 841, 676 were civilians, 124 members of the police and army, and only 41 GAM members. A different survey by the human rights groups Kontras found that the number of people who died from human rights violations in 2000 throughout Indonesia totaled 2119. The head of Indonesia’s Human Rights commission blamed these abuses on the decision of Wahid’s government to leave armed forces’ occupying outlying districts and on the immunity from prosecution of abusive soldiers (Kearney 2000).

Meanwhile, the struggle between GAM and the army continued. On January 18, 2000, two hundred government troops forced hundreds of villagers in Pidie into the jungle during a raid on a GAM soldier camp. The soldiers set 10 houses on fire after the raid (Agence France Presse January 18, 2000). One GAM commander said that GAM rebels had killed 20 security force members. The next day, in another subdistrict of Pidie, GAM rebels injured five Indonesian soldiers in a grenade attack (Agence France Presse January 25, 2000).

President Wahid offered to meet in January with GAM commanders to help bring about peace in Aceh. The Minister of Law and Legislation intimated that Wahid might pardon exiled GAM leader Hasan di Tiro or other GAM commanders who returned to Indonesia to work for peace in Aceh (Agence France Presse January 10, 2000; The Jakarta Post January 13, 2000).

On January 25, 2000, President Wahid made his first visit to Aceh, to inaugurate a free port, and for a peace ceremony between police and Muslim scholars. Wahid had no intentions to meet with local leaders seeking a referendum for autonomy, but did admit that human rights violations by security forces were the root of the violence in Aceh (Agence France Presse January 25, 2000).

Soon after Wahid’s visit, the Aceh chapter of the “Indonesian Council of Ulama” called the military and rebels to halt the violence in Aceh. The strongly Muslim Acehnese students, ulama and NGOs followed the influential ulama with a similar call (Agence France Presse January 30 2000). A GAM commander stated that the rebels would support a cease fire if the army would agree to halt further military operations. Later he stated that future negotiations should occur under authority of an international organization like the United Nations. The military agreed to a dialogue but rejected a cease fire until GAM promised to suspend attacks (The Jakarta Post February 1, 2000). The next day, the murder of the House of Representatives legislator of Aceh quashed plans for a cease fire. The Speaker of the House commented that the legislator’s murder was probably linked to his political party’s (PPP) presence on the House special commission investigating past abuses in Aceh ( Jakarta Post February 1, 2000). On February 2, the army succeeded in killing a high ranking GAM leader. They burnt down approximately 60 houses in the fighting. 

Meanwhile, Hasan di Tiro agreed to a cease fire and negotiations during a dialogue with Indonesian ambassador in Geneva (The Jakarta Post February 2, 2000). A few days later unidentified men sabotaged a terminal of North Aceh’s Malikussaleh special airport, run by Mobil Indonesia. The military blamed this attack on GAM bringing the cease fire to an end (Agence France Presse February 7, 2000). 

In response to violent police actions, President Wahid criticized the local authorities for atrocities that led to Acehnese fear and hatred of police. A GAM spokesman replied that if the president felt so strongly about police brutality, he should remove all foreign police and military from Aceh: “If the police and troops who are not based here are taken out, it will become quite peaceful” (McCall 2000). 

On November 10, 2000, hundreds of thousands of people gathered in Aceh’s capitol of Banda Aceh for a two day independence rally, marking the first anniversary of the first public rally for independence. Military intimidation and violence kept most people away: blockading bridges; destroying transportation; confiscating or destroying food supplies; ordering people to turn back and shooting them (Nur 2000). 

During the three days leading up to the rally, the military murdered at least 25 people traveling to the rally, and injured many others. In one incident in a village in East Aceh, soldiers fired on a mosque filled with thousands of people, killing a boy and wounding others. These people had taken refuge in the mosque after police blocked them from going to the rally in the provincial capitol. Witnesses alleged that soldiers stepped on Muslim holy books during the incident. The head of the East Aceh branch of the pro-independence SIRA said, “what they have done is an insult to the Muslim religion and Allah” (Agence France Presse November 10, 2000).

The rally, although well attended, was smaller than the one a year earlier (see p. 50 above) in which a million people showed up. The chairman of SIRA, blamed the lower turnout on police intimidation. Large scale support for the rally shows general disappointment in the five-month ‘truce’ signed in May. An Acehnese activist said: “It was supposed to reduce tension and violence, but tension and violence are still there. There’s no progress in terms of conflict resolution. Many people are blaming the central government for this” (Kearney; November 11, 2000).

On November 20, the government arrested the SIRA chairman for allegedly violating Haatzai laws, repressive laws for crimes against the state that date back to colonial times (Amnesty International November 2000). A lawyer described the chairman, still imprisoned, as “a political prisoner. He has been detained to kill a movement that was formed by a civilian group” (McCall December 23, 2000). Most Acehnese believe that if Jakarta sincerely wanted to stop the violence in Aceh “the very least that the president should have done was to order [his] release,…Jakarta should also have completed the prosecution of military officers who were allegedly responsible for human rights atrocities against the people of Aceh. And, finally, Jakarta should also have made some political accommodations to the growing aspirations of the people of Aceh to determine their own future.” (The Jakarta Post December 20, 2000)

On December 19, 2000, Wahid traveled to Aceh and inaugurated Islamic law, shari’ah, there. Shari’ah is part of a policy of wide ranging autonomy for Aceh. The promise is greater Acehnese control of their education and resources, starting in May, instead of independence. Wahid proposed that Aceh keep upwards of 75% of the profit from their resources (Wall Street Journal December 20, 2000) in addition to his previously stated plans to put Rp 100 billion (US$10.5 billion) into developing the local economy and rehabilitating trade and industry (Detikworld December 4, 2000). The rejection of Acehnese independence (or independence for provinces such as Irian Jaya and Riau) is consistent to with the national ideology of Pancasila. Wahid says: “There should be no effort to proclaim (independence), secede from the Unitary State of Indonesia, be that in Irian Jaya, or Papua, or in Aceh…Any action tending towards this will be faced appropriately by government personnel in line with the mandate of the MPR (the national assembly), the constitution and the prevailing laws”(Agence France Press November 30, 2000). During his speech he ordered military to stop harassing civilians and to treat “the Acehnese people not as enemies but friends.” He felt guilt over the atrocities in Aceh, he said in a televised broadcast, “I blame myself for this, because I allowed it to happen” (The International Herald Tribune December 20, 2000)…If I were not a Muslim I would have committed suicide.” (The Wall Street Journal December 20, 2000) Few Acehnese attended the inauguration ceremony at the main mosque in the provincial capitol of Banda Aceh.

Aceh’s governor (himself Acehnese) said days before the implementation of shari’ah: “What the president of Indonesia plans to do will meet the great expectations of the ulama and the people as a whole. This is a positive move, which will cool down the situation in Aceh” (Soetjipto December 7, 2000). Shari’ah will be loosely interpreted in Aceh. It is unlikely that the form of shari’ah implemented in Aceh will involve the same tenets that shari’ah does in some Middle Eastern countries, e.g. punishments like amputation for theft or death for adultery. Shari’ah could create tension among Acehnese because “everyone has different interpretations of Islam” (Munro December 12, 2000). A GAM spokesman says that GAM demanded shari’ah: “The Indonesian government wants us to look like Afghanistan...It’s not our demand because we have implemented Islamic law naturally in Aceh. If Gus Dur [the popular nickname for President Wahid] wants to learn Islam, he should go to Aceh” (Soetjipto December 7, 2000). A SIRA spokesman adds: 

Imposition of Syariah in Aceh is simply a dirty political trick from Gus Dur. When he was abroad, Gus Dur mentioned Islam in Aceh is a fundamentalist type, to provide legal ground for Gus Dur to slaughter Acehnese…We don’t want to implement an arranged Syariah as we had in Dutch colonial era. We demand Syariah that is free from Indonesia…For us, Gus Dur is not that great. Whether he come or not, it would not solve the problems. We just want a referendum to determine our fate. As well as to demand the UN and Indonesia to resolve Aceh’s problems. (Dharmastuti December 12, 2000)

Many Acehnese argue that Indonesia’s central government raised shari’ah to divert attention from the issue of Acehnese self-determination. They say the proposal is a central government PR ploy to make people believe it has tried every possible way to appease Acehnese, in order to justify the subsequent use of military terror. A letter from the Free Acheh Movement in Europe to the ambassadors of the Islamic countries to Indonesia explained Acehnese feeling about central implementation of Islamic law: 

Achehnese are good Moslems, and everything in our country is judged by Islamic standard. Islam is an inseparable part of Achehnese identity. If Acheh is a coin, Islam is the other side of that coin. As a matter of fact, Acheh is a nation founded on Islam and it was our forefathers who had brought Islam to Java, Borneo, the present Malaysia and to the whole Southeast Asia. But Achehnese are neither secularists nor fundamentalists. History has shown that Islam in Acheh is different from that of other regions, and this can be clearly seen by the way how Achehnese treat their womenfolk and even foreigners. In the history of independent Acheh, it was almost a century that our country ruled by women – and that would be unthinkable in other contemporary Islamic countries…By looking at these facts of history, Achehnese certainly do not need anyone from Jakarta to teach them or to introduce to them about “Syaria Law”. (Free Acheh Movement in Europe December 18, 2000)

It is unclear if the police will enforce shari’ah. The government regulations say that regional civil servants, with police help, will investigate those who commit actions incompatible with shariah. A member of the provincial legislature from the Reform Alliance asked, “Can Aceh’s Islamic sharia law be enforced by officials of the regional government while it is not clear whether their own behavior is in line with sharia or not?” (Tempo Magazine December 24, 2000) 

Other government officials in Jakarta are resisting President Wahid’s plans to grant Aceh increased autonomy. The resurgence of violent separatist movements elsewhere in Indonesia has weakened Wahid’s grip on power. One of the most powerful people opposing Wahid’s agenda is Vice President Megawati Sukarnoputri, daughter of former president Sukarno, who has extremely close relations with the army. Her opinion is the generals’: only force will way to silence rebellion. 

Both GAM and the army have violated ‘truces’. More than 960 people died from violence in 2000 despite the Joint Understanding on Humanitarian Pause for Aceh which GAM and the Indonesian government signed on May 12, 2000 (Agence Free Presse January 12, 2001). (If both sides were equal the agreement would qualify as a ‘ceasefire’ but because the central government does not view GAM as equal the agreement is merely a ‘truce’). Activists say that the only way to enforce a ceasefire that both sides respect would be to call in the United Nations (Desgranges 2000:37). The ‘truce’ lasted three months, and was renewed for an additional two months in September. During the second phase the death toll increased from 63 to at least 166 (Tjiptono November 29, 2000). An army spokesman reacted: “If the violent activities continue, the police will still apply its responsibility, to maintain, to uphold the law” (Tjiptono November 29, 2000). He failed to mention that most victims were civilians killed by security forces. 

During late 2000 Wahid shut down the Transmigration Ministry as so to “streamline the bureaucracy and make the cabinet more efficient.” (Yamin 2000) A researcher at the LS2LP Population Research Center said: “The present exodus of transmigrants to their places of origin is a showcase of the failure of an ideological-political project that was called transmigration. It is evidence that they (transmigrants) had never been accepted, and the idea of building socio-cultural cohesion was never really practiced.” (Yamin 2000)Many believe that the failure of transmigrasi has exacerbated local resentment of the central government and Javanese. 

This paper has explored Acehnese history from Aceh’s inception as a sultanate through its ‘golden age’ up to the present turmoil between Acehnese and the central government.I have looked at Acehnese history to show the causes of Acehnese discontent that led to unrest among Acehnese in the past. I have collected Acehnese and Javanese statements about Islam and the Indonesian government as reported in current newspaper/journal/web articles as well as in an interview with an Acehnese man. I have looked at the effects in Aceh from government implemented policies such as transmigration (p. 22-23), development (p. 24), and human rights abuses (p. 59-60). 

Military oppression has raised Acehnese stress levels to a point where many feel that they have only two, mutually non-exclusive options: fight or flight. The Acehnese who chose to fight did this in a number of ways: by joining the armed separatist rebellion (GAM); by taking part in large rallies (p. 54-60); by joining other groups seeking to help bring peace to Aceh, like SIRA (p. 53). Some citizens who chose flight fled to Malaysia and elsewhere (p. 40-49); others just fled their homes (p.53-54), becoming refugees in their own province (IDP’s).

GAM’s is and always has been more nationalistic than religious. (p. 43-44) 

Although military tactics like “shock therapy” “insult” Islam in Aceh (p. 44-45, 59-60), the present rebellion seems to have little to do with the “fanatical” Islam many Acehnese practice. Instead it seems to grow largely out of anger against the central government and military, due mostly to the large scale killing in Aceh from the later years of the New Order up to the present. [Islam was incorporated into GAM’s ideology during GAM second insurgence in order to gain support among the strongly Muslim Acehnese (p. 39)]. 

Islam is not the wellspring of the political behavior I am talking about but just the rationalization, mystification and justification thereof. Analysts often treat Islam as sui generis, a special type of occurrence requiring Islamists rather than ethnographers.Political Islam to GAM isn’t sui generis but merely politics, not religion (Dentan 2000). GAM leaders incorporated Islam into their ideology in order to gain acceptance among Acehnese and also to separate themselves further from the “insufficiently Muslim” Javanese. If GAM’s goal were to create an Islamic state in Aceh it would have welcomed government implementation of syari’ah in Aceh. Acehnese Islam is, generally, not “authoritarian”. Most Acehnese are tolerant of the Sufi influenced Islam practiced by Javanese (see Appendix).

To state the center-periphery problems, I will use the “national integration” model to show how the central government views Acehnese, and the “internal colonialism” model, to show how Acehnese view the central government. 

NATION-STATE VS. LOCAL NATIONALISM: NATIONAL INTEGRATION (JAVANESE VIEW)

The national integration model states that “the burden of guilt for the existence of a problem between central authority and an ethnically distinct region lies with the latter” (Morris 1983:3). Benedict Anderson describes the Javanese conception of the structure of the state, center-periphery relations and territorial sovereignty as a cone of light reflected downward by a reflector lamp (Anderson 1990:36). The even distribution of light expresses the homogeneity of Javanese power, while the white color of the light, the “syncretic” fusion of all colors in the spectrum, shows the concentration of all other colors and the center of the light. Traditional Javanese sought a single source of power and authority, one centered on Java (the center of the light), the center of the nation state. Javanese nationalism can be described as “an urge to oneness” that “expresses a fundamental drive to solidarity and unity in the face of the disintegration of traditional society under colonial capitalism, and other powerful external sources” (Anderson 1990: 37). This type of nationalism is “far stronger than patriotism; it is an attempt to reconquer a primordial oneness” (Anderson 1990:37).

Traditional Javanese thought divides the world into two categories: Java and Sabrang, “overseas,” i.e. all non-Javanese political entities. Although the central government worked to spread its power to the periphery of the state, many Javanese still find it hard to hard to accept the idea that Indonesia is a group of equal, interacting islands and peoples (Anderson 1990:42). Javanese normally think of all parts of the periphery in terms of their relation to the center. The central government believes that power is constant and diminishes towards the periphery so that it is weakest at the point it merges into a neighboring region. The center uses three methods to concentrate power in Java: destruction, dispersal, and the two combined (Anderson 1990:44). The idea is analogous with the Chinese notion of political centralism, in which the name for China is Zhong Guo, “central country”.

Dispersal is the center’s main means of national integration (Morris 1983:3). The Javanese center seeks to replace ethnic and local identities with those loyal to the center (p. 24). Through the transmigration program the government sought to replace local identities by scattering “model Indonesians” (Javanese) throughout the archipelago.

A strong military and government are central to the Javanese concept of power. In several places during the New Order’s reign the army provoked violence in order to display its repressive power. To Javanese, a strong military expresses a strong government. GAM threats increased the Javanese belief that a strong military expresses a strong republic. This consideration justified abuses in Aceh as elsewhere in the republic (Siegel letter to author December 19, 2000). Government and military members view Wahid as a weak leader because of his attempts to bring about a peaceful end to the rebellion. The military has run itself without check during Wahid’s reign because of their lack of respect for Wahid. 

The policy of destruction as a means to maintain centralized power has roots in Indonesian history. An alleged Communist uprising during in mid-1960s led the generals, with US help, to massacre between 500,000 and 1,000,000 Chinese and leftwingers. Since 1975, government forces have murdered some 200,000 Timorese to quell their separatism. To the government the rebellion in Aceh poses a threat to central power much like that of the Communist uprising in 1965-66, the separatist uprising in East Timor and the unrest in the Moluccas and Irian Barat (West Papua). The murders during the communist period set a precedent for later dealings with opponents of the central government such as in East Timor and in Aceh where approximately 5000 people were murdered in the last ten years (Amnesty International 1994:4). The failure of the military in East Timor and the resurgence of unrest in the Moluccas and Irian Barat has exacerbated fears that Javanese power will falter, and Indonesia disintegrate.

The 1965-66 coup popularized the belief that criminal acts have power that will be recognized, accepted and guarantee political positions. According to the Javanese concept of power “if criminals are to be feared, criminals are powerful” (Siegel letter to author December 19, 2000). The military, mostly Muslim, committed blasphemous crimes against the strongly Muslim Acehnese, e.g. “shock therapy,” in which the military left bodies in public places to rot, an act antithetical to Muslim beliefs. Blasphemy demonstrated the army’s power.

Javanese policy reflects what the social historian Richard Hofstedter refers to as the “paranoid style” of politics (1964). A paranoid style politician finds the “hostile and conspiratorial world” arrayed “against a nation, a culture, a way of life whose fate affects not himself alone but millions of others….the paranoid mentality is far more coherent than the real world, since it leaves no room for mistakes, failures, or ambiguities”(1964: 4, 36). The Java-centered government and military view all ethnicities, cultures, and ideas that deviate from those traits of “model Indonesians” (Javanese) as enemies of modernization and national integration. In this view Acehnese are obstacles to development because they wish to profit from resources on their land, and because they oppose “rigged” elections. Besides, the government fears that if it grants Aceh a referendum, as in East Timor, conspiratorial anti-Javanese schismatics would support referenda in other parts of the republic, thus jeopardizing the unity of the nation. In fact, numerous uprisings against the central government show that the program of “national integration” or Javanization of outer Indonesia has strained national unity. Indonesia remains divided into numerous ethnic, cultural, and linguistic groups. 

NATION STATE VS. LOCAL NATIONALISM: INTERNAL COLONIALISM (ACEHNESE VIEW)

To show how Acehnese view the central government I will use the “internal colonialism” model. This model states that “the burden of guilt for problems between center and periphery clearly lies with the former for being unremittingly exploitative of the latter”(Morris 1983:6). The unequal distribution of modernization throughout state territory create groups that benefit from modernization (Javanese) and groups that become exploited because of it (Acehnese) according to this model. Now, Fredrik Barth and his followers argue that ethnicity is not a matter of “primordial” character but rather the product of competition for scarce resources. By this theory, the enhanced competition which exploitative “modernization” brings should facilitate a heightened stress on ethnic differences as a way of organizing resistance to exploitation (Barth 1969:19-20). The system of stratification the unequal distribution of power creates is like a cultural division of labor, exacerbating the distinctive ethnic identities of two groups. In this model the inequitable distribution of resources between the two regions, Java and Aceh in this instance, will likely lead to dissidence (Morris 1983:4). Ethnicity and religion are more “oretic” than mere appeals to economic self-interest. That is, it is easier to mobilize emotions and attach them to ethnic or religious ideals than to simple greed. 

This complex of motivations raises the question of whether the rebellion in Aceh is a revitalization movement, “a deliberate, organized, conscious effort by members of a society to construct a more satisfying culture.” (Wallace 1956:265) GAM’s struggle is an attempt to bring back the Acehnese State that the Dutch “illegitimately” made part of the Republic of Indonesia. Hasan di Tiro bases his leadership on his supposed descent from Chik di Tiro, the last important leader of the Aceh War of date, although detractors allege that di Tiro is not a descendant but merely from the same village, Tiro (Kell 1995:61). Such claims make GAM seem like a struggle to bring back the ethnic Acehnese state, although the acronym GAM derives from Indonesian instead of from Acehnese. Di Tiro’s involvement in the Darul Islam Indonesia rebellion shows that at one point he acknowledged Aceh’s stance as a part of the republic and put Islam first. After all, the Darul Islam wanted to make Indonesia, not just Aceh, an Islamic state (Siegel letter to author December 19, 2000). 

Although GAM ideology incorporates anti-Javanese sentiments (p. 37), the GAM struggle has little to do with ethnicity. Indeed, there are some Javanese members of GAM (Seigel letter to author December 19, 2000). Violent actions committed by Acehnese and GAM against Javanese do not stem from a primordial ethnic hatred of Javanese but from a rational resentment of the internal colonialism which Javanese centralism nurtures. 

The propaganda GAM spread throughout Aceh “made a straight-forward ethnic appeal to rise up against Javanese imperialism” (Morris 1983:300). But the focus was on Aceh’s natural wealth and its unequal distribution between the center and periphery. Di Tiro believed that colonialism did not end with the expulsion of the Dutch, but merely changed to Javanese internal colonialism. In di Tiro’s words: “Indonesia exists on the principle of territorial integrity of the colonial empire: and an empire is not liquidated if its territorial integrity is preserved. Thus Indonesia is still an unliquidated colonial empire with Javamen replacing Dutchmen as emperors” (Kell 1995:62). The central government had exploited Aceh’s resources in the guise of “development” for Java’s benefit, and used the program of transmigrasi as a means of maintaining future control of Aceh. In many ways, the rebellion started as an extension of the technocrats’ marginalist ideology (p. 19): if development brings benefits, why not benefit for those whose resources fuel it?

The rebellion draws little from the Acehnese tradition of resistance e.g. the forty years struggle against the Dutch (p. 7). Indonesians, including Acehnese, remember the heroes of the Aceh War as national heroes, who fought against Dutch colonialism, not Acehnese heroes. In Aceh, there are no monuments for any of the many who died during the war for independence. That war was not particularly Acehnese, except that many of the fighters were Acehnese, as well as from other ethnicities. After the war, Acehnese intentionally made themselves part of the republic of Indonesia, so that, for example, the revolt against Sukarno was Darul Islam Indonesia, not Darul Islam Aceh. By intentionally allying with the republic of Indonesia Acehnese became one of the groups amalgamated in the ethnogenisis of “Indonesians.” Darul Islam Indonesia Aceh “separated itself from the chance to think of itself as an ethnic group or a people defined by their particular language or descent”(Siegel letter to author December 19, 2000).

Although competition for scarce resources is the major factor that started the rebellion, most Acehnese today in favor of a referendum are compelled by a desire for the military actions in Aceh to end. Military oppression, rather than quelling Acehnese separatism, is now, for the Acehnese, a justification for rebellion. Peasants are tired of “mysterious killings”. Today, many GAM fighters are people whom the military tortured and/or whose family members they killed or raped. Many who seek independence have little knowledge of GAM’s program. The name “Hasan di Tiro” and “GAM” mean little more than “release” from military abuse. To be “Acehnese” today means to be “free from the armed brutes who massacre at will” (Siegel letter to author December 19, 2000). It is because of the Acehnese goal of “release” that most Acehnese today seek a referendum. Although a desire for greeter profits from Acehnese resources plays a role in the present rebellion, most of its impetus comes from resentment of military abuses and desire for them to end in the future.