Laporan kepada Komnas Perempuan soal Susanna Harsono

Kami melaporkan kasus kematian adik saya, Susanna Harsono (1969-2024), kepada Komnas Perempuan di Jakarta hari Senin. Susan punya disabilitas psikososial sejak umur 23 tahun, saya duga, dia mengalami penyerangan seksual di rumahnya di Jember pada Minggu, 6 Oktober 2024, bersama seorang perawat dari Homecare Jember Raya (21 tahun), yang menjaga ibu saya (81 tahun), seorang pasien stroke dan dementia. 

Sesudah penyerangan, perawat merasa takut, absen kerja empat hari, lantas berhenti kerja pada 20 Oktober. 

Pada 10 Oktober, Susan minta dibawa konsultasi psikiatri di rumah sakit umum daerah Dr. Soebandi, dapat beberapa obat dan diminta tak terlalu banyak berpikir soal penyerangan seksual, lantas mengalami mental breakdown, masuk rumah sakit pada 28 Oktober, dan meninggal pada 5 November. 

Kami diterima oleh Komnas Perempuan serta diminta mengisi dua formulir, termasuk isian tentang organisasi pendamping --Gerakan Peduli Perempuan Jember serta LBH Jentera Perempuan Indonesia. Kedua organisasi ini sudah mendampingi Susanna sejak dua hari sesudah penyerangan. 

Mereka pernah wawancara Susan serta bicara dengan para tetangga maupun dengan seorang pendeta yang menjadi gembala buat Susan maupun lelaki yang diduga melakukan penyerangan. Kami juga sertakan beberapa dokumen sebagai bukti. 

Ini bukan sekedar mencari kebenaran dan keadilan terkait adik saya tapi juga soal perempuan dengan disabilitas serta perawat homecare di rumah-rumah. Mereka rentan mengalami kekerasan seksual. 

Saya ditemani Sapariah Saturi (isteri saya juga redaktur Mongabay Indonesia), Devana Aura (cucu keponakan isteri, mahasiswa Jentera Law School), serta Ruth Ogetay (seorang pekerja kesehatan etnik Papua, yang pernah merawat ibu saya di Jakarta). Mereka tentu kenal dekat dengan Susan termasuk Devana yang baru pindah dari Pontianak ke Jakarta pada 2023 serta sering menginap di rumah kami. 

Laporan ke Polisi Jember soal Kematian Susanna Harsono

Saya melaporkan kematian adik saya, Susanna Harsono (1969-2024), ke polisi Jember pada hari Sabtu. Susanna seorang perempuan dengan schizophrenia paranoid. Saya menduga Susan mengalami penyerangan seksual pada 6 Oktober di rumahnya saat minta bantuan seorang lelaki, umur 56 tahun, yang dikenal Susan sejak sekolah menengah pertama, antar sekantong beras ke dalam rumah. 

Orang dengan disabilitas mental, termasuk Susan, punya toleransi yang berbeda terhadap kekerasan seksual daripada kebanyakan orang. Susan sangat terganggu dengan apa yang biasa disebutnya "pelecehan seksual."

Di Jember, saya juga bertemu dengan perawat yang menjadi saksi, sekaligus korban, penyerangan seksual tersebut. Perawat itu, umur 21 tahun, menangis ketika bicara soal Susanna. 

Dia tak sangka Susanna, yang mendampingi mama saya, pasien stroke, Metri W. Harsono, merasa tertekan secara kejiwaan sehingga kesehatan badan drop dan meninggal. Susanna dan perawat ini akrab karena sering bertemu di rumah. 

Saya ingin mencari kebenaran dan keadilan. Publik juga perlu tahu bahwa perempuan dengan disabilitas, rentan terhadap pelecehan seksual. Para perawat homecare, yang melayani pasien di rumah-rumah, juga rentan terhadap pelecehan seksual. 

Saya merasa dikuatkan oleh Gerakan Peduli Perempuan Jember: Sri Sulistiyani, Fitriya Fajarwati dan Suminah. Mereka mendukung saya lapor ke polisi. 

Rochmah Hidayati, koordinator Jember Raya Homecare, yang menyediakan jasa homecare terhadap mama saya, serta ⁨Sapariah Saturi⁩, isteri saya, juga ikut ke kantor polisi. Mereka menduga penyerangan seksual tersebut jadi trigger kesehatan Susan turun dengan cepat.

Saya tentu akan bolak-balik Jakarta-Jember buat mengikuti proses hukum maupun berbagai ikutannya. Saya mohon dukungan para sahabat dalam menjalani proses ini.

Chat antara Yohana Harsono, adik saya yang memantau kesehatan Susanna, dan perawat Fitrianing "Lely" Azizah, yang ikut menjaga Metri W. Harsono dan Susanna, pada 10 Oktober 2024. Lely mengantar Susan ke psikiater, sudah ada anjuran dari psikiater agar tak boleh banyak memikirkan "masalah ini."

Informasi terkait Susanna Harsono

Obituari: Susanna Harsono, Perempuan dengan Skizofrenia, Terbuka soal Kesehatan Jiwanya

Susanna Menyanyi "Kisah Kasih di Sekolah" di Rumah 

Susanna menari "Iko Iko" karya Justin Wellington bersama Sapariah Saturi 

Susanna diberi Radio, Gembira sekali, Menari dengan lagu Westlife

Susanna Harsono, Perempuan dengan Skizofrenia, Terbuka soal Kesehatan Jiwanya

Oleh Norman Harsono di Denpasar dan Andreas Harsono di Jember 

Susanna Harsono, seorang perempuan dengan skizofrenia paranoid, meninggal dunia sesudah mengalami kebingungan luar biasa, yang mempengaruhi keinginan makan dan minum, lantas masuk rumah sakit, namun tak tertolong serta menghembuskan nafas terakhir pada Selasa, 5 November, di RSUD Soebandi Jember, Jawa Timur. Ia menjelang ulang tahunnya ke-55.

Susanna menderita skizofrenia paranoia sejak tahun 1990, saat berusia 23 tahun. Dia sering menjalani terapi kejiwaan di beberapa rumah sakit kesehatan mental termasuk Menur (Surabaya), Lawang (Malang), serta Grogol (Jakarta). Dia mendengar "suara-suara" mendengung di kepalanya, dan kadang-kadang, bila tak minum obat, mengomel jika lapar atau mengantuk. 

Namun dia tidak menyembunyikan gangguan jiwanya. Dia selalu memperkenalkan diri sebagai orang dengan skizofrenia. Dia rajin berobat, setiap ada masalah, selalu menemui dokter, sehingga bisa mengerjakan pekerjaan rumah tangga. Dia senang merajut, main piano, menari dan menyanyi.

“Ce Susan dikenal di semua rumah sakit di Jember. Orangnya suka cerita, sering sekali datang ke rumah sakit,” kata Rochmah Hidayati dari Homecare Jember Raya. 

Susanna kelahiran Jember pada November 1969 dari pasangan Ong Seng Kiat dan Metri W. Harsono. Dia lahir kembar bersama Rebeka Harsono, terpaut hanya setengah jam, yang juga dapat diagnosa gangguan jiwa.

Mereka berdua sekolah dasar di SD dan SMP Aletheia Jember, lantas SMA Katolik Santo Paulus Jember. Sesudah lulus, Susanna meneruskan kuliah di Institut Keguruan dan Ilmu Pendidikan Malang, namun merasa tak cocok setelah satu semester. Pada 1989, dia pindah ke Asian Institute for Liturgy and Music di Manila, belajar selama dua tahun. Namun dia drop out. Dia balik ke Indonesia, sempat kuliah setahun di Akademi Seni Karawitan Indonesia di Surakarta, namun juga gagal, sampai dia terdiagnosa skizofrenia. 

Rebeka kuliah di Universitas Gadjah Mada, antara 1988 dan 1992. Ini juga yang mendorong Metri pindah ke Yogyakarta, menemani Susanna dan Rebeka, plus dua adik mereka. 

Setiap tahun, terutama November dan Desember, Susanna tinggal di Jember bersama papanya. Pasangan Ong Seng Kiat dan Metri Harsono hidup terpisah sejak 1988. Di Jember, Ong Seng Kiat –biasa dipanggil Sengkek– adalah pedagang alat listrik juga pernah usaha pertanian. Sengkek meninggal pada Juli 2013 di Jember. 

Sejak terdiagnosa disabilitas psikososial, kegiatan Susanna adalah membantu pekerjaan di rumah serta bepergian ke Jember, maupun Jakarta, dimana ada saudara-saudaranya tinggal. 

Susanna juga penggemar kuliner. Seleranya tinggi, seringkali dia minta dimasakin atau dibelikan makanan: bakso, empek-empek, nasi rawon, pizza, black pepper steak, melted brownies, dan lain-lain. 

Perawatan Dementia

Ketika mamanya mulai terkena dementia, perlahan-lahan mulai kehilangan daya ingat dan daya pikir, Susanna merawat Metri di Jember, beberapa kali masuk rumah sakit, serta ketika Metri terkena stroke, hanya berbaring di ranjang sejak Januari 2024.  

Di Jember, dia mendampingi mamanya, bersama beberapa perawat dari Jember Raya Homecare, yang setiap hari mendampingi Metri, di rumah mereka, Jalan Samanhudi IV, Jember. 

Pada pertengahan Oktober 2024, Susanna berkali-kali mengatakan bahwa dia mengalami “pelecehan seksual” pada 6 Oktober di rumahnya. Pelakunya, diduga seorang lelaki, umur 56 tahun, yang juga sekolah menengah sama, serta warga gereja sama. Susanna minta bantuan dia mengantar sekarung beras ke rumah dari gereja. 

Korban satunya adalah perawat homecare, usia 21 tahun, yang biasa merawat Metri. 

Susanna kenalan dengan penyanyi Atiek CB, seorang sahabat keluarga Harsono, yang peduli dengan kesehatan mental. Mereka bergurau soal bagaimana bikin rekaman musik. 

Si perawat menceritakan kejadian saat si lelaki datang ke rumah, mulanya bersalaman, hendak kenalan, lantas merangkul, “Tangannya mau kemana-mana, mau ke dada saya, saya tepis.”

“Mulutnya di kuping saya, kayak mau mencium.”

Dia lari ke Indomaret, sekitar 800 meter dari rumah, menangis dan gemetar. 

Menurut Susanna, si lelaki merangkulnya dan mendekatkan pinggul. Tangannya menyentuh buah dada. Susanna merasa terganggu. 

“Aku tidak mau pacaran. Aku bilang.” 

“(Nama pelaku), saya tidak ada niat ke sana. Saya tidak ada nafsu. Saya cuma minta tolong diantar beras.” 

Kejadian berlangsung sekitar 15 menit sampai pelaku mengikuti perawat ke Indomaret. Kedua korban segera melaporkan kejadian tersebut kepada Jember Raya Homecare, perusahaan dimana si perawat bekerja, maupun kepada keluarga Harsono. Rochmah Hidayati langsung datang ke tempat kejadian, bicara dengan perawat. Sapariah Harsono, isteri dari Andreas, wawancara perawat dan merekamnya. Yohana, adiknya Susanna, menghubungi pendeta dari gereja tersebut. 

Dalam dua surat permintaan maaf, si lelaki membantah melakukan penyerangan seksual, tapi mengakui lakukan “pelecehan seksual.” Dalam surat terpisah, pendeta menilai lelaki tersebut sebagai anggota gereja yang “taat ibadah” serta anaknya sedang belajar di theologi. Dia memberi sanksi dengan tak boleh menerima sakramen perjamuan kudus di gereja selama enam bulan. 

Si perawat memutuskan berhenti bekerja pada 20 Oktober serta tak mau bahas kejadian tersebut. Dia trauma dan merasa aib buat keluarganya. Minggu kedua, Susanna sering sebut frasa “pelecehan seksual” bahkan percobaan pemerkosaan, menurut beberapa tetangga dan keluarga. Dia terlihat kesal sekali, sering jalan dan duduk sendirian, menurut beberapa tetangga. 

Sejak minggu keempat Oktober, Susanna mengunci diri dalam kamar, lampu dimatikan, makan dan minum terbatas. Kesehatan menurun drastis. Fitrianing Azizah, seorang perawat yang menunggu di rumah, membawanya ke ruang gawat darurat RSUD Jember pada 30 Oktober. 

Menurut Fitrianing, “Saat itu sore jam 5 kondisi Ce Susan sudah lemas di dalam kamar, dengan keadaan telanjang dari perut ke bawah dan penuh dengan air kencing dan pup dan darah dari bibirnya yg digigitin. Sekitar jam 17.30 saya bawa Ce Susan dengan ambulan ke IGD RS Soebandi.” 

Susanna Harsono ikut foto bersama kelas menulis di Yayasan Pantau dengan pengampu Janet E. Steele di Jakarta pada Juli 2023.

Hasil laboratorium maupun scan organ, menunjukkan bahwa kesehatan fisiknya menurun drastis karena dia kekurangan makan dan minum. Para dokter memutuskan menaikkan daya tahan tubuh Susan, pakai infus dan sonde, serta hendak mengirimnya ke rumah sakit kesehatan jiwa di Lawang, bila stabil. 

Orang dengan disabilitas mental punya toleransi yang berbeda terhadap kekerasan daripada orang biasa. Susanna juga orang Kristen yang kolot. Dia menolak menonton film dengan adegan orang berpacaran. Dia misalnya keberatan dengan film Hollywood “Barbie” karya Greta Gerwig karena ada orang berpakaian minim –udara sepanas apapun harus berpakaian panjang. Pelecehan seksual tersebut sangat mengganggu dirinya. 

“Susan adalah satu-satunya dari keluarga yang terus-menerus mendampingi mama, hidup bersama mama, sejak mulai kena dementia, setidaknya dalam 10 tahun terakhir, sampai bulan lalu. Kepergiannya bikin kaget. Mama masih ada, ironisnya, anak yang merawatnya sudah pergi duluan,” kata Yohana Harsono. 

Saudara kandung yang ditinggalkan, selain Andreas, Rebeka dan Yohana, juga Debora Harsono di Ambon, serta Heylen Harsono di Jakarta. Saudara lainnya termasuk Deasy Wega Hariyanti dan Hardian Harsono, dari pernikahan kedua Ong Seng Kiat dengan Winarti, serta Febrina Harsono dan Dani Hariyanto dari pernikahan ketiga dengan Lasmiyati. 

Norman Harsono adalah keponakan dari Susanna Harsono. Andreas Harsono adalah kakak dari Susanna Harsono. Mereka tinggal di Jakarta. 

Racism and repression in West Papua

Mekong Review

Five books, reviewed by Andreas Harsono, describe West Papua's tormented history

An Act of Free Choice: Decolonisation and the Right to Self-Determination in West Papua

Oneworld Academic: 2009

Updating Papua Road Map

Yayasan Pustaka Obor Indonesia: 2017

Seakan Kitorang Setengah Binatang: Rasialisme Indonesia di Tanah Papua

Deiyai, Jayapura: 2014

Morning Star Rising: The Politics of Decolonization in West Papua

University of Hawaii Press: 2021

In the Shadow of the Palms: More-Than-Human Becomings in West Papua

Duke University Press: 2022

If you visit Indonesia’s National Library—home to 7.7 million physical books—and do a search with the keywords “West Papua”, “Irian Jaya” or even simply “Papua”, you’ll find a rather modest number of results in Dutch, English and Indonesian: just 1,192 titles. The thin collection reflects not only how complicated it is to unpack and analyse the West Papua conundrum but also how successful the Indonesian government has been at restricting independent research on environmental degradation, human rights abuses and the suffering of Indigenous Papuans.

Since the late 1960s, the Indonesian government has severely restricted foreign journalists and international rights monitors from visiting the highly militarised area, as Pieter Drooglever chronicles in his book, An Act of Free Choice: Decolonisation and the Right to Self-Determination in West Papua, available in the National Library. In 1999, the Dutch parliament requested that the Institute of Netherlands History in The Hague produce a comprehensive review of the decolonisation of West Papua, hoping that the fall of Suharto, who’d been president for three decades, would open up dialogue between Indonesia and West Papua.

Drooglever, a historian, was appointed to lead the study. He examined archives in the Netherlands, the United States, the United Nations and Australia, but wasn’t given access to Indonesia’s National Archives in Jakarta. He also interviewed Papuans and Indonesians who’d been involved in the transitional period in the 1960s. He published his 807-page book in Dutch twenty-seven years later, in 2005. An English translation was published in 2009 and the Indonesian translation appeared in 2010. Drooglever hoped his book would help Indonesians seek a peaceful solution in West Papua, as had happened in Timor-Leste in 1999 with a United Nations–organised referendum, and in Aceh in 2004, with an agreement signed in Helsinki granting the territory special autonomy. His wish has not yet come to pass.

In An Act of Free Choice, Drooglever writes that the Dutch Kingdom had, in the 1950s, tried to establish a functional administration in “Dutch New Guinea” with schools, hospitals, security, roads and other facilities. They were learning from their failures in the Netherlands Indies, which declared independence in 1945, fought against returning Dutch forces and became the sovereign Republic of Indonesia in 1949. The Dutch Kingdom set up an administration in New Guinea with two highly educated Dutch scholars holding top executive posts. Although some of the Papuan elite initially welcomed the idea of integration with Indonesia, they changed their minds between the 1950s and 1960s as they watched the neighbouring country transform from a progressive new republic to an aggressive military-dominated state. Preparations began, with support from the Dutch, for West Papua to eventually become a self-governing administration.

Indonesia invaded West Papua in 1962; the Dutch were pressured by the United States into negotiating and signing the New York Agreement a year later. This agreement provided for a plebiscite, supervised by the United Nations, that would let Papuans decide if they wanted to join Indonesia. But, as Drooglever describes in a chapter entitled ‘Under Jakarta’s Thumb’, the United Nations Temporary Executive Authority was continually manipulated, pressured and fooled. Lambertus Nicodemus Palar, then the Indonesian representative to the United Nations, openly admitted that Subandrio, the Indonesian foreign minister, didn’t want a plebiscite. Instead, the Indonesian authorities organised a referendum known as the Act of Free Choice, in which about 1,000 government-selected delegates voted for a merger with Indonesia. Most Papuans say they were denied their right to choose and continue to demand a separate nation. Although the independence movement is largely peaceful, there are some long-standing armed groups. Today, West Papua remains Indonesia’s most underdeveloped and poverty-stricken province and human rights abuses are rife.

Another book available in the National Library is the 2019 Updating Papua Road Map, a follow-up to a 2009 book published by the Indonesian Institute of Sciences (Lembaga Ilmu Pengetahuan Indonesia, or LIPI). The volume’s authors criticise the Indonesian government’s security approach in West Papua, urging them to hold a dialogue with West Papuan groups instead. Muridan Widjojo, the lead researcher, notes: “These dialogues do not kill anyone, and if failed, we could always try again.”

Contributors to Updating Papua Road Map describe four main problems in West Papua, starting with the marginalisation of Indigenous Papuans. Settlers from Indonesia—particularly from the densely populated Java—have made indigenous people a minority in their own lands. Development programmes have not only failed to meet Papuans’ basic needs in terms of education, health and economic welfare, but have also caused environmental destruction. Furthermore, the Indonesian authorities have turned a blind eye to state violence against Papuans, failing to punish perpetrators or restore the rights of victims. There’s now a deep mistrust, among Papuans, of the Indonesian authorities.

The authors of Updating Papua Road Map managed to persuade the Indonesian government to agree to a non-governmental Papua Peace Dialogue involving LIPI researchers and some Papuan civil society leaders. The process started in 2010 and was led by Widjojo and Neles Tebay, a Papuan intellectual and Catholic priest; they travelled from one regency to another throughout West Papua. This effort culminated in a public conference in July 2011, where a senior Indonesian security minister delivered a keynote speech welcoming the idea of dialogue. Hundreds of Papuan leaders from different tribes—men and women, young and old—participated in the week-long event. The conference ended with the election of five Papuan leaders, all living in exile, to lead the dialogue with Indonesia. The five openly advocated independence from Indonesia. Unsurprisingly, this upset Indonesian officials, especially after the prominence that these five individuals gained from the conference contributed to the setting up of the Vanuatu-based United Movement for the Liberation of West Papua in 2014.

You won’t find the late Filep Karma’s book, Seakan Kitorang Setengah Binatang: Rasialisme Indonesia di Tanah Papua (As If We’re Half Animal: Indonesian Racism in the Land of Papua) in the National Library. Karma was perhaps West Papua’s most well-known political prisoner. He was first arrested in July 1998 and jailed for nearly two years for leading a protest on Biak Island at which Indonesian security forces gunned down more than 150 Papuans. He was later released after receiving presidential amnesty. In 2004, he led another peaceful protest in Jayapura and was sentenced to fifteen years in prison for treason. He was released in November 2015 and drowned while on a diving trip in November 2022.

In his book, Karma recalls how Papuan businesses thrived in Jayapura prior to integration with Indonesia. Jayapura—then already the largest city in West Papua—had more than twenty movie theatres. “Jayapura was like Hong Kong,” Siegfried Zöllner, a German missionary, wrote in his memoir about his first impression of the city in 1961.

Jayapura was looted by invading Indonesian soldiers upon their arrival in 1962; Karma describes finding steel cupboards, still bearing Jayapura hospital stamps, in a Surabaya hospital in East Java years later. And hardware wasn’t the only thing West Papua lost. Karma points out that, in the 1970s and 1980s, the Indonesian military and police imprisoned members of the Papuan elite, accusing them of committing treason by being “separatists” and taking over their businesses and lands. He argues that entrenched racism is the underlying problem: Papuans, with their darker skin and curly hair, look different. Indonesians often mock Papuans, calling them “monkeys” to imply that they’re lagging behind in evolution or describing Papuans as lazy, primitive or foul-smelling.

Even West Papua’s flora and fauna have been marginalised and displaced. Sophie Chao’s book, In the Shadow of the Palms: More-Than-Human Becomings in West Papua, focuses primarily on oil palms, only recently introduced into West Papua. Many ethnic Marind, the indigenous tribe in Merauke in West Papua’s south, consider the crop “alien and invasive”. Apart from land grabs and human rights abuses around oil palm plantations, Chao finds that the “foreign plant” is destroying native animals and their local habitats.

In Merauke, where Chao did her anthropological research, Papuans make up less than 40 per cent of the population. She writes that “mortality rates are high, life expectancies are 35 years for men and 38 for women, and HIV infection rates are the second highest in Indonesia”. She also argues that the introduction of oil palms has significantly increased armed conflict in West Papua. Apart from importing this non-native plant, the Indonesian government has also encouraged large-scale transmigration since the 1970s, subsidising settlers and triggering conflict between communities. Many Papuans have armed themselves with bows and arrows to defend their land. Militant groups have also acquired firearms, mostly from the black market, with supplies coming from Indonesian security officers. While some might be profiting handsomely from oil palm plantations, the introduction of this industry has perpetuated West Papua’s long-standing problems.

The West Papua conundrum is not just a local question; it’s also one of international law. In Morning Star Rising: The Politics of Decolonization in West Papua, Camellia Webb-Gannon forcefully questions the international rationale to integrate West Papua with Indonesia in 1969. Uti possidetis juris  is a principle in international law which says that newly formed sovereign states should retain the internal borders they had as a colony prior to independence. In this case, the principle was taken to mean that the Netherlands Indies, including West Papua, would become Indonesia. Yet this question is nowhere near settled.

Webb-Gannon cites the arguments of Akihisa Matsuno, an international relations scholar who challenged the legitimacy of uti possidetis juris by pointing to the January 2011 referendum that foregrounded South Sudan becoming an independent state. There were significant ethnic, linguistic, religious and social differences between North and South Sudan, and the British ruled them as separate colonial entities. Therefore, Sudan’s history suggests that a lack of integration, whether natural or historical, between areas ruled by the same colonial power can be used to justify the establishment of separate states. Colonial boundaries, like all other man-made constructs, aren’t as absolute as they are sometimes made out to be.

The Sudan experience could be particularly instructive in the case of West Papua. As Drooglever underlines in his writing, West Papua had a different history of occupation from the rest of Indonesia. The Dutch occupation of West Papua was shorter and the entire island was liberated by the US military in 1944. There are religious differences too: unlike much of the rest of Indonesia, where Islam is the dominant religion, Christianity has more influence in West Papua.

Most of the Papuans in Webb-Gannon’s book are part of the diaspora. Andy Ajamiseba, based in Vanuatu and a member of the Black Brothers, a Papuan rock band, talks about how Papuans see themselves: “The issue here is that identification of ourselves, our identity is—we are not Indonesian. Maybe when we become independent, the situation may be [that] our economy is not as good as [it was] under Indonesia, we have to crawl out, but we want to be ourselves. I am a Papuan. In all due respect to the Indonesians… we are two different people: we are not Indonesians; they are not Papuans.”

Benny Wenda, a leader of the United Movement for the Liberation of West Papua who is currently living in Oxford, England, denies that the freedom Papuans seek is primarily metaphysical or spiritual. Referring to the Indonesian struggle for merdeka (independence) against Dutch colonisers, he says: “If [Indonesians just] wanted freedom spiritually, why did they fight against the Dutch?”

Morning Star Rising doesn’t pretend that all Papuans are united in goals and tactics. A major split is frequently traced to a 1976 feud within the Free Papua Movement (Organisasi Papua Merdeka, or OPM) in the jungles of Keerom, near the border with Papua New Guinea. Conflict—involving a misunderstanding about foreign relations and also ethnicity—erupted between Jacob Prai, the scholar of the group and a native Keerom, and Seth Rumkorem, the movement’s military man and an ethnic Biak. Both men later sought refuge in Europe. The movement suffered a mild setback with Rumkorem living in the Netherlands and Prai in Sweden.

Webb-Gannon also describes the practice of pemekaran, the rapid creation of new administrative and budgetary units in West Papua by the Indonesian government, which has caused disunity in the Papuan community. In June 2022, for instance, the Indonesian parliament divided West Papua, previously governed as two provinces, into six administrative areas. These moves are widely viewed by many Papuans as a ‘divide and rule’ tactic in which a small minority of Papuans are given limited control over divided regions.

Despite this, West Papuan politics revolves around, and can achieve, periodic strategic consensus, including with the United Movement for the Liberation of West Papua, an umbrella organisation for some of the pro-independence factions. Webb-Gannon writes: “Working toward consensus through debate and disagreement as West Papuans do is democratic; it is also a key characteristic of Melanesian political style, which reflects Melanesia’s traditionally acephalous [leaderless] social structures.”

In his book’s final paragraph, Drooglever writes: “The possibilities for a better future for the inhabitants of western New Guinea can also be found in Indonesia’s interest in the area, for Indonesia not only has a tradition of military and authoritarian rule, but also of cultured interaction and efforts to provide good government. We can only hope that the latter two aspects gain the upper hand.”

The National Library may not contain a lot on West Papua, but books like the five reviewed here describe its tormented history. They reveal the trickery and obfuscation by Indonesian leaders to stave off international criticism for its abuses while capturing this naturally rich territory. Papuans have also learned from the failures of the older generations; they continue to defend their rights and resist oppressive Indonesian rule.

Andreas Harsono works for Human Rights Watch. He has covered West Papua since the 1996 kidnapping of international biologists in the Central Highlands.

Filep Karma: political prisoner who fought racism in West Papua

By Andreas Harsono

Radio New Zealand

Filep Karma while incarcerated at the Abepura prison in Jayapura in December 2014. His supporters released his book on Indonesian racism in West Papua on December 1, 2014. Photo: Andreas Harsono/Human Rights Watch

In December 2008, I visited the Abepura prison in Jayapura, West Papua, to verify a report sent to the United Nations Special Rapporteur on torture alleging abuses inside the jailhouse, as well as shortages of food and water.

After prison guards checked my bag, I passed through a metal detector into the prison hall, joining the Sunday service with about 30 prisoners. A man sat near me. He had a thick beard and wore a small Morning Star flag on his chest. The flag, a symbol of independence for West Papua, is banned by the Indonesian authorities, so I was a little surprised to see it worn inside the prison.

He politely introduced himself, "Filep Karma."

I immediately recognised him. Karma was arrested in 2004 after giving a speech on West Papua nationalism, and had been sentenced to 15 years in prison for "treason." When I asked him about torture victims in the prison, he introduced me to some other prisoners, so I could verify the allegations.

It was the beginning of my many interviews with Karma. And I began to understand what made him such a courageous leader.

Born in 1959 in Jayapura, Karma was raised in an elite, educated family. In 1998, when Karma returned after studying from the Asian Institute of Management in Manila, he found Indonesia engulfed in student-led protests against the authoritarian rule of President Soeharto. On 2 July 1998, he led a ceremony to peacefully raise the Morning Star flag on Biak Island. It prompted a deadly attack by the Indonesian military that the authorities said killed at least eight Papuans, but Papuans recovered 32 bodies. Karma was arrested and sentenced to 18 months in prison.

Karma gradually emerged as a leader who campaigned peacefully but tirelessly on behalf of the rights of Indigenous Papuans. He also worked as a civil servant, training new government employees.

He was invariably straightforward and precise. He provided detailed data, including names, dates, and actions about torture and other mistreatment at Abepura prison. Human Rights Watch published these investigations in June 2009. It had quite an impact, prompting media pressure that forced the Ministry of Law and Human Rights to investigate the allegations.

In August 2009, Karma became seriously ill and was hospitalised at the Dok Dua hospital. The doctors examined him several times, and finally, in October, recommended that he be sent for surgery that could only be done in Jakarta. But bureaucracy, either deliberately or through incompetence, kept delaying his treatment. "I used to be a bureaucrat myself," Karma said. "But I have never experienced such [use of] red tape on a sick man."

His health problems, however, drew public attention. Papuan activists started collecting money to pay for the airfare and surgery in Jakarta. I helped write a crowdfunding proposal. People deposited the donations directly into his bank account. I was surprised when I found out that the total donation, including from some churches, had almost reached IDR1 billion (US$700,000). It was enough to also pay for his mother, Eklefina Noriwari, an uncle, a cousin and an assistant to travel with him. They rented a guest house near the hospital.

Some wondered why he traveled with such a large entourage. The answer is that Indigenous Papuans distrust the Indonesian government. Many of their political leaders had mysteriously died while receiving medical treatment in Jakarta. They wanted to ensure that Filep Karma was safe.

When he was admitted to Cikini hospital, the ward had a small security cordon. I saw many Indonesian security people, including four prison guards, guarding his room, but also church delegates, visiting him. Papuan students, mostly waiting in the inner yard, said they wanted to make sure, "Our leader is okay."

After a two-hour surgery, Karma recovered quickly, inviting me and my wife to visit him. His mother and his two daughters, Audryn and Andrefina, also visited my Jakarta apartment. In July 2011, after 11 days in the hospital, he was considered fit enough to return to prison.

In May 2011, the Washington-based Freedom Now filed a petition with the UN Working Group on arbitrary detention on Karma's behalf. Six months later, the Working Group determined that his detention violated international standards, saying that Indonesia's courts "disproportionately" used the laws against treason, and called for his immediate release. But President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono refused to act, prompting criticism at the UN forum on the discrimination and abuses against Papuans.

I often visited Karma in prison. He took a correspondence course at Universitas Terbuka, studying police science. He read voraciously. He studied Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King on non-violent movements and moral courage. He also drew, using pencil and charcoal. He surprised me with my portrait that he drew on a Jacob's biscuit box.

His name began to appear globally. Chinese artist Ai Weiwei drew political prisoners, including Karma, in an exhibition at Alcatraz prison near San Francisco. Amnesty International produced a video about Karma.

Papuan political prisoners Jefry Wandikbo, left, and Filep Karma, center chatted with Andreas Harsono at the Abepura prison in Jayapura, Papua, in May 2015. They continued to campaign against arbitrary detention by the Indonesian authorities. Photo: Ruth Ogetay

Interestingly, he also read my 2011 book on journalism, "Agama" Saya Adalah Jurnalisme (My "Religion" Is Journalism), apparently inspiring him to write his own book. He used an audio recorder to express his thoughts, asking his friends to type and to print outside, which he then edited. His 137-page book was published in November 2014, entitled, Seakan Kitorang Setengah Binatang: Rasialisme Indonesia di Tanah Papua (As If We're Half Animals: Indonesian Racism in West Papua). It became a very important book on racism against Indigenous Papuans in Indonesia.

The Indonesian government, under new President Joko Widodo, finally released Karma in November 2015, and after that gradually released more than 110 political prisoners from West Papua and the Malukus Islands.

Hundreds of Papuan activists welcomed Karma, bringing him from the prison to a field to celebrate with dancing and singing. He called me that night, saying that he had that "strange feeling" of missing the Abepura prison, his many inmate friends, his vegetable garden, as well as the boxing club, which he managed. He had spent 11 years inside the Abepura prison.

"It's nice to be back home though," he said laughing.

He slowly rebuilt his activism, traveling to many university campuses throughout Indonesia, also overseas, and talking about human rights abuses, the environmental destruction in West Papua, as well as his advocacy for an independent West Papua. Students often invited him to talk about his book.

In Jakarta, he rented a studio near my apartment as his stopping point. We met socially, and also attended public meetings together. I organised his birthday party in August 2018. He bought new gear for his scuba diving. My wife, Sapariah, herself a diving enthusiast, noted that Karma was an excellent diver: "He swims like a fish."

The resistance of Papuans in Indonesia to discrimination took on a new phase following a 17 August 2019 attack by security forces on a Papuan student dormitory in Surabaya, Indonesia's second largest city, in which the students were subjected to racial insults. The attack renewed discussions on anti-Papuan racial discrimination and sovereignty for West Papua. Papuan students and others acting through a social media movement called Papuan Lives Matter, inspired by Black Lives Matter in the United States, took part in a wave of protests that broke out in many parts of Indonesia.

Everyone was reading Filep Karma's book. Karma protested when these young activists, many of whom he personally knew, such as Sayang Mandabayan, Surya Anta Ginting and Victor Yeimo, were arrested and charged with treason. "Protesting racism should not be considered treason," he said.

The Indonesian government responded by detaining hundreds. Papuans Behind Bars, a nongovernmental organization that monitors politically motivated arrests in West Papua, recorded 418 new cases from October 2020 to September 2021. At least 245 of them were charged, found guilty, and imprisoned for joining the protests, with 109 convicted of "treason." However, while in the past, Papuans charged with political offenses typically were sentenced to years - in Karma's case, 15 years, in the recent cases, perhaps because of international and domestic attention, the Indonesian courts handed down much shorter sentences, often time already served.

The coronavirus pandemic halted his activism in 2020-2022. He had plenty of time for scuba diving and spearfishing. Once he posted on Facebook that when a shark tried to steal his fish, he smacked it on the snout.

Filep Karma, right, with his brother-in-law George Waromi at Base G beach, Jayapura, Papua, on 30 October 2022. Karma said he planned to go spearfishing alone. His body washed ashore two days later. Photo: Larz Barnabas Waromi

On 1 November 2022, my good friend Filep Karma was found dead on a Jayapura beach. He had apparently gone diving alone. He was wearing his scuba diving suit.

His mother, Eklefina Noriwari, called me that morning, telling me that her son had died. "I know you're his close friend," she told me. "Please don't be sad. He died doing what he liked best … the sea, the swimming, the diving."

West Papua was in shock. More than 30,000 people attended his funeral, flying the Morning Star flag, as their last act of respect for a courageous man. Mourners heard the speakers celebrating Filep Karma's life, and then quietly went home.

It was peaceful. And this is exactly Filep Karma's message about.

Andreas Harsono is the Indonesia researcher at Human Rights Watch and the author of its new report, "If It's Not Racism, What Is It?": Discrimination and Other Abuses Against Papuans in Indonesia.