A new deal struck between the Indonesian government and the Free Aceh Movement means different things to different people, writes Nyier Abdou As freedom fighters, they are known as the Free Aceh Movement, or by their Indonesian acronym, GAM. As a separatist thorn in the side of Indonesia's central government, they are rebels -- members of a group identified by the government as the Aceh "Security Disturbance Movement" (GPK). For more than a quarter of a century, they have been synonymous with Aceh, the resource-rich province on the northern tip of Sumatra island, but today a more dangerous label hangs in the balance: terrorists. Since 1959, Aceh, once a Muslim sultanate, has enjoyed the title of "special territory", giving it larger autonomy in religious and cultural affairs. But successive leaderships have held fast to a commitment to keep Aceh within the territorial borders of Indonesia. Military efforts to suppress the activities of GAM have drawn sharp condemnation from human rights groups, but with 11 September and new terrorism laws following the Bali attacks, the Indonesian military (TNI) is in a stronger position to crack down harder on agitation against the government. It may have been this increased threat that encouraged GAM to push ahead with a new agreement brokered by the Geneva-based Henry Dunant Centre for Humanitarian Dialogue, even though it falls far short of GAM's demand for independence. "I think it is true that the general world climate since 11 September had some influence on GAM," Edward Aspinall, a lecturer at the University of Sydney and an expert on Aceh, told Al- Ahram Weekly. That said, he warns against "overstating" the impact of the Bali bombing. GAM has been keen to distance itself from Islamic terrorism "of the Al-Qa'eda variety", and Aspinall points out that until now, Western governments, and the US in particular, "have not made the mistake of believing that GAM has links with such groups". Still, he concedes, the GAM leadership is no doubt aware that Western governments are more interested in Indonesia as an ally and thus more willing to turn a blind eye to human rights issues. The impact of this policy shift was already evident in TNI's "growing confidence" in its operations against GAM over the last year, he said. This, he argues, along with the growing perception that the international community does not actively support independence or a referendum, might have made GAM "increasingly willing to compromise through the peace process". Whether this process will engender a lasting peace remains to be seen, but there is reason to be sceptical. Sidney Jones, director of the International Crisis Group's (ICG) Indonesia project in Jakarta, stresses that the agreement, signed by government and GAM officials in Geneva on 9 December, is not a "peace agreement" at all, but an "agreement on cessation of hostilities, which is something less than peace". But it does go further than any deal that has come before it by accepting international monitors and addressing the need to hold those who endanger the pact publicly accountable. Jones, who attended meetings between the government, GAM and civil society leaders last month, told the Weekly that what has been achieved is "extremely fragile" and that all of the crucial disagreements between GAM and TNI have been "finessed, not resolved" -- a point echoed by Cornelius Luhulima, senior fellow at the Centre for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) in Jakarta and a research professor at the Indonesian Institute of Sciences. "Both the Indonesian government and GAM each have their own purposes in mind in signing the Cessation of Hostilities Agreement," he says. "The Indonesian government is keeping Aceh within the unitary state of Indonesia -- albeit with special autonomy status -- and GAM is pursuing its [goal of] independence from Indonesia." With the obvious tension between these goals so salient, it is hard to see how the agreement can work at all. But each side is hoping to use the deal as a new starting point. Indonesian President Megawati Sukarnoputri is hoping to woo Aceh into being satisfied with promised autonomy by allowing the province to keep a large part of the proceeds from oil and natural gas revenues. GAM is hoping to use the agreement to gain international support for a referendum like that which allowed East Timor to secede in 1999. The problems are not only ideological, however. "There are diametrically opposed interpretations of what some parts of the agreement mean," warns Jones. She points to plans for TNI to "relocate", while GAM begins to place its arms in designated locations. "GAM understands 'relocation' to be the closing of army and police posts outside main district and sub-district headquarters. The army commander indicated he had no intention of pulling back forces -- only that they would work toward reconstruction rather than counterinsurgency offensives." On the other hand, she adds, "TNI understands 'placement' of arms as disarmament and demobilisation. GAM sees it as nothing of the kind." Independence came for East Timor at an enormously high cost -- but it did come nonetheless. The heavy involvement of the international community and the relative success of the transitional government there make other secessionist struggles in Aceh and Irian Jaya (West Papua) more conspicuous, but few see the East Timor model being applied in either case. "It is virtually impossible to imagine a scenario in which a national Indonesian government would allow the province to secede," says Aceh specialist Aspinall. "This is not to say that Acehnese secession could never happen," he adds. "Rather, that very dramatic changes would have to happen to Indonesian, Acehnese and international political dynamics for that to occur." Aspinall suggests there is a "dawning realisation over the last two years that East Timor and Aceh are very different, especially in terms of international law, and there is very little likelihood of international involvement of that sort". "The East Timor example is there in the background ... but it's not as though there's constant reference to Timor's success," agrees Jones. On the other hand, she notes, the 1999 referendum does remain a key issue for the Indonesian government, which does not want to see Aceh and Papua go the way of East Timor. "Distrust of the UN is still high," says Jones. "The UN flag is not allowed to fly in Aceh, even at UNICEF or UNDP projects for fear -- on the part of the government and army -- that Acehnese will misinterpret it as a sign of support." Some 10,000 people are said to have died in the 26-year-long standoff between GAM and the Indonesian military. But deeply entrenched disillusionment is still tempered by tentative hope. Jones says that there is a "palpable shift" in the atmosphere in Aceh, "with people acting as if the security situation has changed dramatically". She says that people are leaving their homes at night and the main Medan-Banda Aceh road is seeing traffic around the clock. Earlier this week, courts in Aceh resumed normal activity after a three-year hiatus resulting from security concerns, even though judges were in short supply. Much seems to rest on the shoulders of a Joint Security Committee initiated by the agreement, but the committee is heavy on partial parties: 50 government representatives, 50 GAM members, and 50 international monitors, mostly from Thailand and the Philippines. "Even the total number of observers is very small for a province of the size and population as Aceh -- over four million people," suggests Aspinall. But Indonesia is clearly against further international involvement, he notes. "Allowing even these 50 observers in is the government's greatest concession so far." What will ultimately determine the fate of the Geneva agreement is whether the parties capitalise on an optimistic mood in local and international circles and address the difficult issues between them. "The first thing the government should do in this respect is clear the injustices in Aceh," says Luhulima. It should also assign a higher percentage of oil and gas proceeds to the province and withdraw the military, "while strengthening the police and rule of law". All of these, remarks Luhulima, are "still difficult for the ruling elite to agree to".
