West Papua: Between Silence and Survival

West Papua: Between Silence and Survival

On Tuesday, August 8, 2023, three Papuan students—Yoseph Ernesto Matuan, Devio Tekege, and Ambrosius Fransiskus Elopere—were sentenced to 10 months in prison for treason. Their “crime”? Raising the Morning Star flag, a symbol of West Papua’s long and painful struggle for independence.

For West Papuans, this act is a sacred gesture—non-violent and deeply symbolic. But in occupied Papua, symbols are dangerous. Since Indonesia took control of the territory in 1963, the Morning Star has become a target, and those who raise it risk torture, imprisonment, or worse.

December is a sacred month for West Papuans. December 1 marks the 62nd anniversary of West Papua’s original declaration of independence. December 19, by contrast, is a day of mourning—it was on this date that the Indonesian military invasion began.

For over six decades, Papuans have struggled to break free from colonial domination. The resistance has never faded, but the cost has been immense: some estimates suggest that more than 500,000 Papuans have lost their lives. And the dream of freedom remains distant.

On this solemn occasion, I spoke with Ambrosius Mulait, a leading voice among the younger generation of Papuan activists. Based in Jakarta, the Indonesian capital, Ambrosius has spent the past decade tirelessly advocating for his people. In 2019, he was jailed for a year on charges of treason. Trained in political science at the Institute of Domestic Government (IPDN), he now collaborates with various NGOs to defend the rights of indigenous Papuans, who face relentless threats from state-sponsored projects and multinational corporations.

Without denying the crimes of the Indonesian regime or the rapacity of global capital, Ambrosius offers a candid self-critique:

“Yes, we must admit: colonization in West Papua continues partly because of our own weaknesses. Since the founding of the United Liberation Movement for West Papua (ULMWP) in 2014, we’ve committed to non-violent resistance—boycotts, strikes, and civil disobedience. Many actions have been taken. But so far, there has been no visible result. Why?”

“For such tactics to succeed, three things are essential: strong political consciousness among the people, consistent grassroots coordination, and long-term logistical support.”

According to his observations, about 60% of Papuans now understand the true history of their land—not the sanitized version taught by the Indonesian state. Grassroots networks exist. Yet, without united leadership and strategic planning, the movement remains scattered and fragile.

“Boycotts are hard,” Ambrosius admits, “because our people have been made dependent on Indonesian goods and services. Real resistance means reclaiming self-sufficiency—growing our own food, drawing our own water, restoring our traditional values.”

In his view, the current moment of confusion and fragmentation demands a leader who is not only visionary, but charismatic and revolutionary—someone who can unite the struggle and guide it with clarity.

Meanwhile, the plundering continues. Rich in natural resources, West Papua is a treasure trove for multinationals. Over 20 major corporations operate there, extracting wealth while leaving ecological disaster in their wake. The Papuans, reduced to second-class citizens in their own land, now make up barely half the population. If this trend continues, they may face cultural extinction—just like the Aborigines of Australia.

Resistance takes many forms. While some have taken up arms, most Papuans continue to resist peacefully. The simple act of raising a flag is among the most widespread methods of protest.

This gesture gained global attention in July 1998, when a group of Papuans raised the Morning Star flag atop a water tower in Biak. For days, a thousand people gathered around it in peaceful defiance. Then the army came. They opened fire. An estimated 150 people were massacred; countless others were tortured and disappeared. The man who led that action, Filep Karma—often called Papua’s Nelson Mandela—spent 15 years in prison. He was found dead on the beach in Jayapura on November 1, 2022.

Despite being only 250 kilometers from Australia, West Papua is largely ignored by international media. The reason is no mystery: geopolitical interests, arms deals, and corporate profits tend to speak louder than justice. In the face of such cynicism, West Papuans continue to shout for freedom—even if the world refuses to listen.