By Jakarta Correspondent Jonathan Head
Clues to the cause of the unrest in the islands of the
Moluccas may lie in their unusual history.
The main island of Ambon and its neighbours are merely a
few dots on the map of Indonesia. And yet their influence on
the history of the region, and even the world, has been
immense.
Five hundred years ago they were the only source of nutmeg
and cloves, spices which then cost more than gold.
It was in their attempt to reach the source of these
valuable crops that European explorers first sailed around
southern Africa to India - and then the other way round the
globe, running accidentally into the Americas.
Nutmeg: Worth more than gold
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Control of the islands was
fiercely contested between Dutch, Portuguese and English
traders. As a result of this international interest, the
Moluccas were left with a diverse mixture of religions -
Muslim, Catholic and Protestant, all blended with powerful
local customs.
The Dutch exerted a strong influence over the islands right
up to Indonesia's war of independence in the late 1940s. They
recruited Ambonese Christians as soldiers to pacify the rest
of Indonesia, and they offered them education.
In return, the Ambonese supported the Dutch against the
mainly Java-based independence movement.
Decades of turmoil
The riots have caused widespread devastation
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When Indonesia finally won
its independence in 1949, the Ambonese believed they would be
allowed to form their own state. They fought briefly for a
Republic of South Moluccas, before being subdued in 1950.
Thousands of Ambonese soldiers in the Dutch colonial army fled
to the Netherlands.
It was some of their offspring, frustrated over their
living conditions in the Netherlands, who mounted a series of
attacks on Dutch targets in the 1970s, culminating in the
hijacking of a train in 1977 in which a number of people were
killed.
Ironically, there have been few signs of such turmoil in
recent decades.
A deep fear and mistrust exists between the two
communities
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Separatism has broken out
in other parts of the archipelago, notably in East Timor,
Irian Jaya and Aceh, but the Moluccans seemed reconciled to
being an integral part of Indonesia. Even now, few Moluccans
talk about forming an independent state. The most recent
conflict seems to be a more basic struggle for territory and
identity.
Few of the Islamic and Christian militants fighting each
other today have any clear objectives. Instead they are
motivated by a deep fear and mistrust of the other side which
has probably been there for years.
Under former President Suharto discussion of religious and
ethnic differences was strictly banned, driving such disputes
underground, and perhaps hardening attitudes.
Muslims vs Christians
Muslim leaders say they believe Christian militants have
long had a plan to drive out more recent Muslim immigrants
from other islands. They argue that the Christians were
unusually favoured by the Dutch and given much better access
to jobs and education - now they are unwilling to see Muslims
do as well.
The military seems unable to stop the violence
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Christians point to the
vulnerability of their faith in predominantly Muslim Indonesia
- they cite the statistic that more than 500 churches in the
country have been burned down or damaged by Muslims over the
past five years.
They do not believe they receive adequate protection from
the state, and they fear Muslim immigration into Ambon will
leave them a powerless minority in one of the few places where
Christians were once in a majority.
The collapse of the authoritarian Suharto system has
allowed these feelings to surface. The armed forces are
demoralised and thinly-stretched. The future of Indonesia is
uncertain
Thousands have fled the violence
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Ambon used to practice a
widely-admired system of traditional alliances between
villages of different faiths, known as Pela Gandung.
Indonesians liked to refer to it as a model for their
nationwide pursuit of religious tolerance. In truth that
tolerance was always more a product of enforcement by a
secular army and government than of popular sentiment, but in
Ambon it seemed to work.
No-one is able to explain how it collapsed so quickly and
without warning but it sends a serious warning out to the rest
of the country, which has plenty of religious and ethnic
faultlines which could now be exposed in the volatile post-Suharto
era.
