Monday, July 22, 2013

1) Recalibrating Jakarta’s Papua diplomacy


1) Recalibrating Jakarta’s  Papua diplomacy

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http://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2013/07/22/recalibrating-jakarta-s-papua-diplomacy.html

1) Recalibrating Jakarta’s  Papua diplomacy

Pierre Marthinus, Jakarta | Opinion | Mon, July 22 2013, 10:54 AM
Although Papua accounts for 22 percent of Indonesia’s land mass, the amount of diplomatic efforts, resources and expertise allocated to the region hardly reflects its massive size.

Focusing on Jakarta’s previous lack of sustained attention and haphazard manner in handling the Papua issue on the international stage, one might be tempted to conclude that Papua is the size of Bekasi.

However, Jakarta’s latest dealing with the ongoing application of West Papua National Coalition for Liberation (WPNCL) for membership in the Melanesian Spearhead Group (MSG) suggests that our diplomatic reflexes might be improving. An Indonesian high-level delegation, consisting of prominent Papuan public figures, was sent to the 19th MSG Leaders’ Summit in Noumea, New Caledonia, to block the WPNCL
application for membership.

In the end, the regional grouping had decided to defer the membership application for a six months period in which a ministerial visit will be conducted to fulfill Jakarta’s invitation.

Two core counter-arguments had been leveled against the WPNCL membership application. First, the organization is seen as lacking in legitimacy and therefore unable to represent the “whole” of Papua. Unfortunately, 75 letters of support carries little weight in an increasingly fragmented independence movement with dwindling support from the non-indigenous population of Papua.

Second, the organization’s claims of conditions in Papua are seen as overly exaggerated — hence Jakarta’s invitation for the group’s foreign ministers to look into the situation themselves. The pro-independence movement, however, accuse Jakarta’s invitation as a typical “red carpet theatrical” doctored to downplay and conceal the extent of abuses towards and poverty among the indigenous population of its Papuan provinces.

Although an Australian media broadcast that the membership application “is still alive”, it is perhaps more accurate to say that it is now dangling on life-support for the next six months. The pro-independence movement continues to disseminate information that their application was “accepted” or “received” by the MSG — often failing to mention that it has not yet been approved of.

Some important general points should be noted ahead of the MSG ministerial visit to Jakarta and Papua.

First, Jakarta should not repeat its poor handling of the Oxford debacle. The previous diplomatic bashing of the UK ambassador was an obvious overkill and a face saving effort at best. Understandably, it was much more convenient than admitting a foreign ministry, fully supported by state budget with staff numbering in the thousands, had been outmaneuvered by one person with an internet connection, relying on donations and volunteer work, operating from a 3 by 3 meter attic office in a shabbier part of Oxford (The Telegraph, June 12, 2013).

Unlike the UK, some countries within the MSG, their parliaments, public figures and national leaders actually supports Papuan “self-determination” — in all sense of the word — and had long been the home base for pro-independence Papuan activists.

Second, diplomatic efforts on Papua and its prioritization should be more sustainable — and institutionalized if possible — instead of being conducted in a somewhat ad-hoc “fire brigade” approach.

Despite their stellar performance, the Indonesian delegation sent to the MSG summit are not professional diplomats themselves and all of them have daily tasks at hand ranging from running state ministries to managing their respective provinces.

Members of the delegation are obviously individuals who unconditionally hold Papua close to their hearts and would never reject whenever asked to bridge differences between Jakarta and the multitude of dissenting voices.

However, it is much better to trim our diplomatic lawns regularly than to continually use these individuals as human shields every time a crisis develops itself. Furthermore, taking into consideration the upcoming 2014 elections, it is in Jakarta’s best interest to ensure that its diplomatic approach on Papua maintains consistency instead of being dictated by the mood swings of its political elites.

Third, it is important for the foreign ministry not only to have a specialized section on the issue but also to allocate sufficient resource and expertise to it. Currently, different Papua “desks” scattered throughout many state institutions contribute little constructive insights and often inject their biases as well as nationalist overtones into much of the information that passes through them. Stories of Free Papua Movement (OPM) inhumane treatment of kidnapping victims and unarmed migrants are all too common.

Similarly, pro-independence activists continue to excessively use the most graphical depictions of their slain comrades in any and all available opportunities. Although I agree that “no one should censor themselves to entertain ignorance”, both sides should refrain from
dehumanizing and criminalizing each other while romanticizing their own cause.

Unfortunately, their audiences are often left terrified if not induced with second-hand trauma. These counterproductive practices need to stop and the foreign ministry is
the best institution to spearhead the effort.

Lastly, Jakarta should recalibrate its engagement with the South Pacific outside of Australia, a region that has long been the backwater of Indonesia’s diplomacy. This does not mean that ASEAN is any less important. It simply means that diplomatic ventures are a lot like investments — it is always better to have a well-diversified portfolio.
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Different Papua “desks” scattered throughout many state institutions contribute little constructive insights and often inject their biases
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The writer is executive director of the Marthinus Academy, program director of the Papua Center at the University of Indonesia, and author of Solving Papuan Grievances (University of Indonesia Press, 2012).

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http://www.insideindonesia.org/weekly-articles/no-take-zones

2) No-take zones

In West Papua province’s Raja Ampat islands, a local fisheries conservation initiative is setting a global standard

Bobby Anderson


                                                                           Freeing shovelnosed ray Andy Miners


Local adat (traditional law) chiefs recall a time when the sea around Batbitim Island in southeastern Raja Ampat was once an Eden, before boats from outside began to strip the stocks bare. Raja Ampat hosts more varieties of hard and soft coral than any other area on earth. The colours of the reefs resemble old corner shops selling confectioners penny candy of every colour and gloss. The diversity of reef and pelagic fishes on these reefs is unrivalled: shoals and schools intermingle and occasionally explode in panic at the arrival of a pack of hunting devil rays or a grey reef shark.
Even through the 1980s and 1990s, sharks were common in the waters of southeast Misool: local fishers had no use for them, preferring more marketable catches. But by the mid-2000s, that had changed. Rising incomes in China had led to dramatic increases in the demand for shark fin, which—although absent of taste and nutritional value—are a status symbol at the banquets of the nouveau riche. Soon longliners from across the archipelago, as well as from China and Taiwan, descended upon Raja Ampat, trailing to 2000 hooks per line.
The onslaught also involved locals. The northern beach of Raja Ampat’s Batbitim Island became host to a seasonal shark-finning camp, leaving the sand scattered with desiccated cartilage from the sharks and rays caught to feed a voracious worldwide market in fins. The bodies, which have little commercial value, were left on beaches or sunk in the open water, often when the sharks were still alive.
The devastation that this demand has wreaked across Raja Ampat cannot be estimated, as no baseline data exists. But one thing is certain: where they had once been abundant, there were no more sharks. Only a few years later, however, the sharks have returned. A remarkable collaboration between the local community and a committed group of foreign divers has established a no-take zone to recover what had been lost.

Pushing for change

The no-take zone was the brainchild of Andy Miners, a dive guide from Cornwall, committed conservationist and amateur marine biologist. Having been confronted by the carnage on Batbitim Island’s north beach, Miners went on a mission to establish a resort and dive centre to support a no-take zone that would allow for the re-stocking of depleted fish populations in southern Raja Ampat. Having convinced Marit Maritson, Thorben Nieman and Mark Pearce of his idea, the four raised capital from friends in the wider diving community.
The centre’s approach to sustainability relates to human resources, the institutionalisation of conservation practices and finances. Misool Eco Resort earns income from divers and its foundation, Baseftin, and manages conservation activities in the no-take zone and the ranger patrols protect it. All are about 70 per cent locally staffed. In the time between identifying young trainees and turning them into experienced dive guides, the operation is filling the gap with experienced guides from Manado.
The institutionalisation of conservation practice is a more complicated issue. Across Indonesia, conservation is something others profit from. Exploitation of resources pays a pittance, but conservation hardly pays at all, with much of the profits from conservation concentrated in the hands of local tour operators. In Misool, the centre’s human resources provides locals with a stake in maintaining these activities and the increased catch on the fringes of the zone has amply demonstrated a tangible value for others in the community.
Local buy-in was vital to make the concept work. Miners negotiated with southeastern Misool’s adat leaders for months before the no-take zone was finally agreed upon. The leaders were keenly interested in the idea. They were not profiting from the trade in sharks: they were intimidated by the longliners but felt powerless to stop them. They, in turn, convinced their communities of the benefits of the plan.
Buy-in from locals was vital for the success of the no-take zone for cultural reasons, but also to meet legal requirements. Indonesian law recognises the exclusive ownership of marine zones by traditional ‘owners’: in this case, the local villages. Agreement by the adat leadership of the nearest inhabited islands and their constituencies was thus key to the establishment of the no-take zone and its boundaries. Once adat leaders and their communities aligned, the district and provincial fisheries departments approved the agreement.

Patrolling the zone

The establishment of the no-take zone led to the expulsion of shark-finning camps and the regulation of boats in the area: boats were allowed to transit the no-take zone, but under no circumstances could they fish there. Local rangers patrol in donated boats with the blessing of the local security actors, who often actively assist them. When fishing boats are seized, they are impounded and the catches are jettisoned into the water. The boats are held until a fine is paid.
The patrol have chased off numerous large long liners; the most dramatic capture so far has been two fishing boats from Sulawesi, their roofs covered with drying fins. The boats were caught just after the nets were submerged, and when the patrol boarded the boats and dragged the nets from the water, entangled sharks were cut free and saved. More common are the seizures of local boats from Sorong: dozens a month have been driven off, and as word of the vigilance of the patrols spread, the number of seizures has declined to an average of two per month.
The most difficult seizures are the boats from villages that traditionally fished the zone before the adat leaders decided otherwise. Such challenges to adat authority from impetuous young men seeking to establish their own power are common. But the law is applied to all. In the beginning, the patrols took a ‘soft’ approach to local infringements. Warnings were accompanied by constant socialisation of the reasons behind the no-take zone – food security for future generations. Fines were not imposed, but catches were confiscated. Meetings were then held in the offenders’ villages, when the elders would discuss the positive impact of the zone. In the last five years, violations have fallen by 90 per cent.
The patrols are now paid by the profits from the resort and from donations: three dedicated boats and a team of local rangers, most of them ex-shark fishermen, operate from three ranger bases. They coordinate patrols with the resort and with local villages that report boats in the area. In 2010 the zone was expanded eastward to include Daram Island, doubling the size of the zone, and it is now larger than the land and sea area of Singapore.

Rejuvenation 

Just as the impact of longlining in Raja Ampat cannot be quantified, neither can the impact of the no-take zone. But it is clear to all. Simply diving the house reef off the Misool pier reveals every common reef species: snappers, a school of juvenile jacks, giant Malabar groupers, napoleon wrasses, bumphead parrotfish and the occasional great barracuda. Every dive site reveals these, as well as grey reef, whitetip, blacktip and wobbegong sharks, schools of barracudas and all manner of pelagics. Rare nocturnal epaulette sharks are no longer rare here. The channel that separates Batbitim from a neighbouring island was once renowned by locals for shovel-nosed rays, but they were systematically netted and finned. However, the population is growing. There are other rarities: blotched fantail rays, Sargassum frogfish, hammerhead, silvertip, and whale sharks.
                                                                             Missool eco-resort  Bobby Anderson
The protected cove on the north beach now hosts juvenile blacktip sharks learning to hunt, the cove is now a parturition area where mothers give birth. The northwest corner of the cove hosts a colony of mandarinfish, as well as endemic species such as flasher wrasse and a species of pygmy seahorse found nowhere else on earth. The famed marine zoologist Dr Gerald Allen has discovered numerous new species in the area, including a new stingray with a four-metre disk width. Until recently, only reef mantas were known to exist. However, in the last four years, scientists have determined that two species exist: Reef (alfredi) and Oceanic (birostris). A third species has possibly been identified. Reef mantas with wingspans up to five meters are found throughout Misool, but the real stars are the oceanic mantas, with wingspans up to nine metres.
One of Misool Baseftin’s conservation programs, the Misool Manta Project, studies the endemic and transitory ray populations of southern Raja Ampat, taking DNA samples, tagging mantas with radio tracking devices and photographing them. Radio receivers are moored at depths of 40 to 50 metres at strategic points inside and outside of the zone and are regularly collected, stripped of data, and re-anchored. This provides a fascinating map of these creatures as they move from station to station. So rich are the nutrients in the water that these receivers are completely encrusted by sponges, molluscs, tunicates, and marine algae within a few months. Only 30 per cent of the individual mantas have been seen more than once, and the resighting rate of the larger oceanics is just six per cent.

Infractions in the zone

The most effectively patrolled areas of the no-take zone are those that benefit from line-of-sight radio communication between the ranger stations and the ranger patrol boats. Locals constantly report suspect vessels and assist the patrols to protect their assets. The local fishermen benefit from the zone by fishing just beyond its borders, reaping the benefit from the expanded stocks that spill over into the surrounding fishing grounds. However, the fringes of the zone are still preyed upon. In Daram, on the far west of the islands, there is evidence of dynamite fishing. Devastated sections of hard coral on top of seamounts and blown out from walls to scatter on the sea floors below: gorgonian fans and soft corals ripped loose to drift along as they slowly die; an emperor angelfish with its eyes blown loose: wounded red snappers finning ineffectively in the shadows until the barracuda find and disassemble them.
This practice is still found across the archipelago. One boat from Daram threatened an unarmed Misool patrol boat with a bomb. That ship escaped. These villagers also prey on turtles. On Daram’s beaches we saw the drag marks of green turtles on sand as they climbed toward the tree-line to lay and bury their eggs, followed by the footprints of the men who followed those same trails and dug them up. Green, Hawksbill, and Leatherback turtles are all endangered, the Leatherbacks critically. When locals catch them, they are killed and eaten. North and south of the zone,only juvenile hammerheads are found, though fewer as the years go by.
This mass killing continues elsewhere: North Sulawesi’s Lembeh strait was once known for sharks and rays, but they were wiped out by a few longliners who stripped the strait of megafauna over a six-month period in the 1990s. It is now only known for small creatures on the black sand. A few years ago north of the Wakatobi Islands in Southeast Sulawesi, a hammerhead parturition site was found and annihilated in months. And in Bali’s Nusa Penida, pregnant threshers are being exterminated in a parturition area near Sampalan Beach. The pups, which have no commercial value, are left on the beaches to be eaten by stray dogs. In Ende, in Flores, slaughtering rays is the only growth industry. The Misool no-take zone is all the more incredible; that clichéd Eden that the adat chiefs remembered is returning.
Bobby Anderson (rubashov@yahoo.com) works on health, education and governance projects in Eastern Indonesia, and he travels frequently in the Indonesian provinces of Papua and West Papua.

Inside Indonesia 112: Apr-Jun 2013

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