A Cry from the Highlands: The Enduring Torture of West Papua

Since the Indonesian military took control of West Papua in 1963, the land has been soaked in silence, fear, and blood. 

For over six decades, West Papuan civilians—mothers, fathers, children—have endured a brutal, inhumane occupation marked by relentless violence and the systematic denial of their most basic human rights.

On March 22, the world caught a brief, horrifying glimpse of this reality. Two video clips began circulating—clips that showed the savage torture of a Papuan man by Indonesian soldiers in Gome, a remote highland village. His body writhed in pain, forced into a drum, beaten, degraded. The question must be asked: was this a rare event? Or is it the norm that simply escaped the shadows?

Terror as a Weapon

More than a decade ago, Father Budi Hernawan OFM, a respected voice for justice and the former director of the Catholic Office for Justice and Peace in Jayapura, warned the world: torture in West Papua is not an aberration—it is routine. Systematic. Public.

This cruelty is not hidden in the dark. It is displayed deliberately, used as a tool to strike fear into the hearts of the poor, indigenous Papuans. It is terror, not just inflicted, but performed. The goal is subjugation—body, mind, and spirit.

"Separatist" is a Death Sentence

Despite Indonesia’s democratic façade and its formal ratification of the UN Convention Against Torture, the ghosts of Soeharto’s regime still walk freely through the jungles and villages of West Papua. In this so-called democracy, an accusation of “separatism” is all it takes to become a victim of unthinkable abuse.

Just ask Defianus Kogoya. He was the man in the drum, the man in the video. His screams echoed through cyberspace, but they have been echoing through West Papua for generations.

End Colonialism. Now!

Torture is the tool of empires, and Indonesia's actions in West Papua are nothing less than the continuation of colonialism under a new name. The occupying army behaves not as a protector, but as a predator—clinging to control through methods learned from the darkest chapters of history.

Sixty-one years. That is how long West Papuans have waited for peace. For dignity. For the world to care.

We can no longer look away. Those who believe in justice, in the value of every human life, must do more than condemn. We must act. Colonialism in West Papua must end—so that this beautiful land, and its resilient people, may finally be free from fear.