The Aceh Chinese, a subgroup of Chinese Indonesians, comprises less than 1 percent of the province’s population. Their existence is almost forgotten, and their voices and stories are often excluded from national and local accounts. Space for Aceh Chinese remains limited, even in extensive scholarly works and local knowledge productions on Aceh, due to their ambiguous political status.

The political context complicates their existence: Aceh’s history as an Islamic kingdom, its contested position within the Indonesian nation, and its status as a special autonomous region.

For my PhD ethnographic research, I have been exploring the overlooked memories of the Aceh Chinese. Living in a homestay in Banda Aceh with Aceh Chinese, I interacted with over 50 individuals and formed close connections with 20 Aceh Chinese.

The Chinese connection with Aceh dates back to trade long before the Dutch consolidated their power in the region in the 19th century. As the Dutch expanded economic activities in Sumatra, waves of Chinese migration to Aceh from China and other parts of Indonesia followed. Over time, their descendants came to regard Aceh as their home, integrating deeply into local society.

However, the memories of the Aceh Chinese during periods of crisis and the armed conflict between the Free Aceh Movement (GAM) and the Indonesian government are rarely the focus of public narratives. The state often neglects ethnoreligious minorities in conflict resolution, a tendency shaped by colonial legacies that entrenched the idea of autochthony, a sense of being “native” with an inherent claim to the land. The pribumi (native) versus non-pribumi dichotomy and the concept of putra daerah (children of the region) exemplify this political consciousness.

When Chinese schools were forcibly closed during the New Order regime, Ci Mary’s father, a Mandarin teacher, lost his teaching position. Like most Chinese Indonesians of her generation, Ci Mary does not speak Mandarin but is fluent in another dialect group, Hakka, along with Acehnese and Indonesian. Deeply embedded in the local community, she formed close friendships with Acehnese neighbors and married her late husband, an Aceh Chinese man whose stepmother was called “Mama Aceh.”

Together, Ci Mary and I visited Sigli to pay respects at her family’s tombs in 2022. Most of her relatives were buried there, but this was her first visit to the graveyard since the 2004 tsunami, which prompted her migration to Banda Aceh. The ruins and neglect of many graves revealed signs of tragedy, the passage of time and the absence of familial care.

Many Aceh Chinese left the region due to a series of major events: Sukarno’s 1959 policy restricting foreigners’ small trade and retail activities, disproportionately targeting the Chinese; the 1966 military directives linking the Chinese population to the alleged Indonesia Communist Party coup attempt; the 2004 earthquake and tsunami; the prolonged conflict between GAM and the Indonesian government lasting from 1976 to 2005; and the enactment of Aceh’s special autonomy under sharia.

Today, my ethnographic research and conversations with Aceh Chinese in Sigli found that only around 20 Aceh Chinese families remain in town. Emigration continues, driven by limited social and economic opportunities. The younger generation, in particular, leaves Aceh to pursue education and often builds a future elsewhere.

Ci Mary, however, remains deeply connected to Aceh, identifying herself as both Chinese Indonesian and Orang Aceh. Nevertheless, she observed that the Aceh Chinese occupy a liminal space, neither fully insiders nor outsiders.

The loss of Ci Mary’s daughter and father during the tsunami permanently altered her life. Although raised in a devout Buddhist family, Ci Mary has sought solace and strength in God as she navigates a new spiritual path in Christianity. This journey has become a refuge and a source of healing.

Memory plays a powerful role in shaping identity and belonging. The way society remembers, or chooses to forget, determines who belongs and where. This process, often shaped by authorities and institutions, influences how we imagine ourselves, others and our nations.

Society’s memory is selective and inherently political, particularly for minorities whose fragmented recollections challenge dominant narratives, offering alternative ways of navigating identity and belonging.

Despite political shifts and the implementation of sharia, which governs daily life and imposes restrictions based on Islamic values, the Aceh Chinese continue to live in the region but not without challenges. The laws and Islamic values ingrained in society establish social and political boundaries, often rendering non-Muslims as “outsiders”.

Non-Muslim cultural and religious events still occur in private spaces, under permission and protection, such as Christmas celebrations and Buddhist rites. However, building new churches or temples is nearly impossible due to strict regulations and suspicion.

The Aceh Chinese negotiate their presence individually and collectively. Associations such as Yayasan Hakka Banda Aceh collaborate with state and non-state actors. Meanwhile, my research shows that individuals practice subtle forms of resistance, maintaining their cultural presence through nuanced, quiet expressions of identity.

As I converse with Aceh Chinese for my research, I find they aspire to contribute to Aceh’s future, envisioning a peaceful place for their descendants. Yet much work remains to achieve sustainable peace and inclusivity. Addressing these challenges requires moving beyond superficial tolerance and multiculturalism towards meaningful justice and equality.

This year, Ci Mary bade farewell to her home. Yet, her memories of Aceh and the emotional connections to its land and people remain.

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The writer is a PhD candidate at  Lund University.