ONE PEOPLE, NOT ONE MAN
 |
| The Morning Star flag, raised in 1961 by the West Papuan independence movement. |
ONE PEOPLE, NOT ONE MAN
A Critical Historical Reading of Liberation Movements, the Dangers of Personality Cults, and the Democratic Roots of West Papua’s Nationhood
Decolonization, Liberation, and the Trap of Self-Made Leaders
The decolonization of the 20th century left two powerful legacies in world political history: the emancipation of colonized nations, and also the birth of new regimes that often reproduced old structures of domination in new forms. Many national liberation movements began as collective aspirations but ended in the centralization of power, the elevation of a single figure, and the freezing of ideology—creating what Hannah Arendt once described as tyranny born from unfinished revolution.
Across Africa, Asia, and Latin America, national liberation often evolved into leader-centered nationalism, rather than people-centered nationalism. Movements launched in the name of the people frequently culminated in the triumph of elites and dominant figures—Nkrumah, Castro, Sukarno, Mao, Ho Chi Minh—names that grew not only through ideas, but through the construction of history around them. The historical pattern repeated itself: movements begin with the people, but power ends in the hands of one individual.
When Revolution Forgets the People
Every liberation movement faces two major internal dangers: the rise of personality cults, where leaders become symbols, symbols become dogma, and dogma becomes unquestionable, and the imposition of a single ideology, where dissent is treated as a threat rather than democratic energy. Frantz Fanon warned in The Wretched of the Earth that post-colonial national elites often replace the colonizer without replacing the structure of oppression, erecting monuments to themselves instead of building freedom for their people. The global record shows that revolution without internal democracy produces new forms of authoritarianism, liberation without public participation ends in the monopoly of truth, and nationalism without pluralism becomes an engine of enforced uniformity.
1 December 1961: A Nation Declared, Not Owned
In this global context, the West Papuan Proclamation of 1 December 1961 stands apart. It was not declared by a single dominant figure or a pair of leaders, but through the Nieuw Guinea Raad (New Guinea Council), a representative body involving customary leaders, intellectuals, community delegates, religious leaders, and regional representatives. This proclamation did not say “We, the leaders of the nation…” but embodied a different spirit: One People, One Soul. It did not declare One Leader, One Ideology. Here lies a fundamental contrast with many other independence proclamations, including that of Indonesia on 17 August 1945, which was read and signed by only two central figures, Sukarno and Hatta. That moment, though politically decisive, later evolved into a historical narrative centered on individual founders rather than collective political processes.
A Nation Rooted in Collective Legitimacy
West Papua’s declaration emerged not from personalities, but from representation—not from political mythology, but from communal legitimacy. Even within the limitations of a colonial transition, the Nieuw Guinea Raad contained elements that many liberation movements lacked: plural community representation, political dialogue rooted in local legitimacy, the absence of a single hero-figure claiming ownership of history, and decision-making grounded in collective deliberation.
In the Melanesian political worldview, authority does not originate from the most powerful individuals, but from relationships, land, clan networks, and communal consensus. The spirit of 1 December 1961 was culturally coherent—it did not need a political messiah to validate it. One People, One Soul was more than a slogan. It was a rejection of the three pillars of authoritarian nationalism: leader-centered legitimacy, single ideological truth, and historical ownership by one person or party.
The Lesson the World Keeps Ignoring
The world repeatedly teaches one lesson: movements that worship leaders lose their people, movements that worship single ideologies lose their humanity, and movements that worship themselves forget their original purpose. Yet the West Papuan declaration offered a different blueprint: liberation does not need one face, freedom does not need one voice, and a nation does not need to be crowned by one individual.
A Warning to Our Own Struggle
Today, that historical ethos must be defended not only against state repression, but also against internal distortions. Therefore, it must be stated clearly: the people of West Papua and the international community must remain vigilant toward individuals abroad who loudly claim to represent our entire nation, who speak in the name of our struggle without legitimate mandate, who market themselves as spokespersons of an entire people while rooted in no collective consent.
The struggle of West Papua is not a stage, not a personal brand, not a platform for self-promotion, not an arena for political sensationalism. Our nation must never be reduced to a logo carried by the loudest voice or the most visible figure on social media or international circuits. We reject the politics of self-proclaimed representation. We reject the hijacking of our identity for personal relevance. We reject the appropriation of national suffering for individual recognition. Do not damage our people’s struggle for the sake of headlines, applause, or personal spectacle. The legitimacy of our movement flows from our people, our land, our communities, our ancestors, and our shared collective will—not from those who shout the loudest abroad.
One People, One Soul—Forever Longer Than Any One Leader
In a world full of revolutions mythologized through individual heroes, 1 December 1961 remains a suppressed archive precisely because it was too democratic to be monopolized, too collective to be claimed, too plural to be controlled by one person or ideology. It teaches us that true liberation is not an altar built for the worship of a revolutionary king, but a field cultivated by the many. Not one leader. Not one ideology. But one people, one soul. The legitimacy of a people’s struggle is not measured by emotional theatrics, social media noise, or self-appointed spokespersons, but by institutional mandate, representative consensus, and continuity of collective political will.
ULMWP leads West Papua’s push for self-determination
In the case of West Papua, the most recognized coordination body that articulates the right to self-determination is the United Liberation Movement for West Papua (ULMWP)—a coalition formed through internal consolidation of key political movements and rooted in the homeland itself.
Founded in 2014, its legitimacy does not come from personal declarations but from organizational endorsement, representative alignment, and diplomatic engagement with regional and international forums including the Melanesian Spearhead Group and other multilateral spaces. Crucially, ULMWP is not a movement operated from the shadows, nor by anonymous figures competing for personal relevance. It works transparently, with a clear organizational structure, a physical presence, and operational coordination linked directly to West Papua.
Its offices are publicly known—established, functioning, and engaged in long-term political work, with the operational heart and primary coordination rooted in Wamena, the spiritual and political heart of West Papua—not in London, not in New York, and not in Paris. It is not a self-advertising megaphone movement; it does not rely on sensationalism, self-crowning rhetoric, or digital self-promotion. Its work is quiet where it must be, diplomatic where it must be, and strategic where it needs to be—anchored not in personal ambition, but in long political continuity.
True representation comes from mandate, not noise.
In a liberation struggle, representation is not earned through volume, but through recognized mandate. Nationhood is not carried by individuals who shout the loudest abroad, but by organized collective structures rooted in the land, the people, and sustained political process. The right of the Papuan people to self-determination is not a personal stage to be occupied, nor a title to be claimed through bravado. It is a political mandate that belongs to the people and their recognized representative mechanisms—not to self-proclaimed figures hunting visibility.
West Papua does not need louder icons. It needs accountable institutions. It does not need more personal banners. It needs collective legitimacy. The struggle is not owned by individuals performing representation—it is carried by the people, coordinated by legitimate bodies, grounded on the land, and measured by endurance, not theatrics. Because freedom is not built on echoes of one voice. It rises from the resolve of a people.
Not one leader. Not one ideology. But one people, one soul.
Comments
Post a Comment