When in weary Poso, never even say ‘conflict’

This is part 2 of a series on peace building in Poso.

Amsal Hasyim cannot wait for upcoming Padungku, the day when every family in Poso regency opens their doors to literally everybody — friends, relatives and even perfect strangers — to drop by and celebrate.

Padungku is a traditional thanksgiving event for the good harvest that farmers, who account for the majority of the regency’s 207,000 population, to enjoy. The mountainous southern region is suitable for high-priced clove and cocoa farming. The flat north is good for food crops such as paddies.

For many Poso residents such as Hasyim, Padungku has been especially awaited over the past couple of years because it is the perfect occasion to celebrate peace between Muslims and Christians, who were pitted in a bloody sectarian conflict between 1998-2006.

“We will invite our brothers and sisters from Poso to come and join us,” Hasyim said in this scenic southern hilly town of Tentena.

The conflict which claimed about 1,000 lives and displaced 25,000 people, according to one estimate, has left so bitter memories that it is too painful for both communities to even say or hear the word “conflict”. At every occasion people use the word “harmony”.

At its height, between 1998 and 2002, the deadly clashes split Poso according to religious lines. The Christians were concentrated in Pamona and Lore districts in the south and Muslims in Poso town in the north.

The conflict receded after the two parties signed a peace accord on Dec. 20, 2001 in Malino, a holiday resort in South Sulawesi. But occasional clashes and isolated attacks continued until 2006 due largely to the presence of warriors from other regions.

But today, life is largely back to normal — at least on the surface. People in the streets, Muslims or Christians, extol the virtue of brotherhood. Ethnically, the native Poso residents are mainly Pamona with Bada minority — both have Christian and Muslim adherents.

The communities have regained each other’s trust and comfortably mingled the way they did before 1998. Government leaders in Tentena, where thousands of Christians sought refuge, said almost all refugees had gone back to Poso.

“Some displaced families stay here because they have decided to settle here the rest of their lives,” says Bufalino Lanipa, secretary of Sangira village, which accommodated 43 families.

For Poso regent Piet Ingkiriwang, a former police colonel, the Poso City Market tells everything about the returning peace.

“If you go to the market tomorrow, you will see a lot of [Christian] Tentena residents sell vegetables. There is no more tension as many people in the other part of the country think. That’s why people from other regencies are still too afraid to come here,” he said.

Just beginning his second term after he was reelected, Piet has won popularity for his assertive effort to quell the conflict and rebuild Poso. A devout Christian with Manado roots, and paired with a Muslim politician Abdul Muthalib Rimi when he was first elected in 2005, his close allies include local Muslim clerics who want a strong leader to uphold peace and order.

Among his daring move was repatriating mujahidin warriors and other strangers who suspectedly came to Poso with the intention to keep animosity aflame.

“When I just came to office, Poso was still deserted,” he recalled. “There would be more warriors jogging in the streets than indigenous residents,” he quipped. “Then I ordered the authorities to forcibly repatriate any comers who were here with no clear purpose.”

People who fled their homes during the conflict have been asked to go back. People who unlawfully occupied their deserted property were asked to leave or be prosecuted.

Residents built their homes partly with government assistance and Pied does not want to see burnt houses neglected by their owners because the ghostly buildings rekindle people’s memories of the bitter past.

Now that Poso is peaceful, he has begun developing the economy to alleviate poverty and woo in investors. A Chinese company has built a tapioca factory. Major national companies have started palm oil and gold, nickel and granite mining business.

The most important project is a Rp 3 trillion (US$337 million) 185 mega watt hydropower project in Sulewana, some 40 minutes drive from Poso City. It is a private project belonging to the Kalla dynasty that will supply electricity in Sulawesi as of next year.

Jusuf Kalla, a former vice-president and initiator of the Malino peace deal, said when inspecting the project last year, “This project is my obsession. I made peace for Poso and the people will live in peace if the economy is good, and electricity is a vital component.”

Piet says that the Central Government has treated Poso like a “step child”, giving it little assistance for infrastructure. He has built two Rp 13 billion bridges, expanded the seaport and upgraded the airstrip for smaller commercial aircraft.

But peace activists are not dazzled by what Piet has been doing.

Ruwaidah, a Muslim peace campaigner and a signatory of the Malino peace accord, says when it comes to maintaining peace, the government has been doing little at the grassroots level.

“The grassroots level is still dominated by NGOs,” she says. “The government is doing little to fix education and public health. What has the government done with the billions of rupiah earmarked for education. Why are there no scholarships for children who became victims of the conflict?”

She says the local administration has focused only on “physical” development and is yet to do anything significant regarding trauma-related assistance.