Last Tuesday, the 15^th of November 2005, professor Drooglever presented his research ‘An act of free choice’. Many had looked forward to the publication of this research. So had I. There was a big turn-out for the presentation. Not only on the day itself in the Royal Library in The Hague, but also beforehand, during and afterwards in the media.
It has been a real event in that library. What started as a scientific symposium, preceding the presentation, ended as some kind of political demonstration. Peaceful, with many happy faces and an emotional moment when spontaneously the national anthem of the Papuans was sung.

Then it became clear that this scientific research can not be seen as ‘just’ academic research, historical-scientific in character. No, this research took place in a political context. Former minister for Foreign Affairs Van Aartsen, who in 1999 commissioned the Institute of Dutch History to carry out this research, received the first copy of the book and, in an excellent speech, pointed out that it was also about our, that is to say, Dutch history.

At this occasion, Van Aartsen expressed the wish that this research should "not be drawn in the political atmosphere". He meant well, but his wish came too late. After all, even before the presentation of ‘An act of free choice’, this research had already been politicised. First of all by the Indonesian authorities who over the years did not conceal their apprehension toward this historical research from the Dutch government. Then by the present Dutch minister for Foreign Affairs who, supposedly out of apprehension for Indonesian reactions, was that impolite and scared that he was not prepared to receive the first copy of the book as the one who, legally speaking, had commissioned the research. And finally, of course, by the Papuans themselves, who for years have eagerly looked forward to the publication. Not only in The Hague, but first and foremost in Jayapura.

Therefore the question is not whether a political significance should be attributed to this research, but what that significance should be. In fact it’s always about the ever relevant question of how the present generation of stakeholders should deal responsibly, in the political, moral and juridical sense, with the truth about the past, which partly is a shared past. It is cowardly to run away from this question.

Actually, when it is about recognizing one’s own historical responsibility for deeds in the past, it has to be said that Dutch politicians don’t excel in it. And sometimes they flee in easily recognisable forms of hypocrisy. This proposition can easily be illustrated. Since long-time, Dutch foreign policy is characterised by strong moral or even moralistic overtones. Dutch politicians like to pride themselves for their efforts to defend human rights wherever in the world. They also like to support processes of conflict prevention and mediation and reconciliation. From a country like Turkey they demand with forceful arguments, and rightly so, to recognise the truth about the genocide on the Armenians in 1917. They speak sympathetically about the South-African Truth and Reconciliation Commission and comparable instruments in other parts of the world, to get people and peoples to come to terms with themselves, with each other and with history. And when Dutch politicians speak about Surinam, the authorities of this country are asked regularly not to forget the so-called December assassinations of 1982, to prosecute the assassins and to do justice to the relatives of the victims. That is good. However, when it comes to our own role, we often back out, look the other way or keep silent. Obviously, we don’t know how to recognize our own historical responsibilities. That is shameful.

Back to the beginning. Back to November 1999 when as a member of parliament I requested a historical-scientific research into the developments before, during and after the so-called Act of free choice. At the symposium earlier this week, several people asked me what I had expected from the research at that time, what I had envisioned. The honest answer is that I hadn’t developed a very clear picture then. Of course I had the political-philosophical conviction that it is always right to recognize the truth. That the truth is liberating, and that is an echo from a biblical wisdom. At that time, I believed that the Papuans were entitled to get a scientific, authoritative description of the historical truth concerning a crucial moment in their history. However, only one year later, during a visit to Jayapura, I became aware of the political importance of my request and of its explosive character.

No, my request for this research stemmed for a great deal from political frustration. Allow me to clarify that. As a former member of parliament representing the Reformed Political Alliance (GPV) and now as a senator of the Christian Union, I uphold the tradition of engagement with the fate of the Papuans. The conviction that the Papuans suffered grievous wrongs in the sixties of last century, is at the heart of this tradition. In short: when in the first two decades after the Second World War, the principle of the right to self-determination was granted to colonised peoples all over the world, resulting in political independence, this principle was manipulated to its contrary when it came to the Papuan people, resulting in the integration into the Indonesian Republic. The Netherlands was involved in this and is therefore jointly responsible for the violation of elementary justice.

This knowledge kept chafing. That’s why we could not forget the Papuans. The fact that my political group and some people outside of it, contrary to the mainstream of Dutch politics, didn’t forget the Papuans, doesn’t give me much pride or satisfaction. The shame to be part of the Dutch and international political system, which cauterised its bad conscience, was greater. Shame also for the fact that especially in our country one doesn’t want to be reminded of the Papuan people, let alone that one would like to entertain a special relationship. When a government notice in 1979, for the first time paid attention to the developments in Irian Jaya, any special relationship between the Netherlands and the Papuans was denied and the shameful comparison was made with the Indians in America with whom the Netherlands didn’t entertain a special relationship neither! That’s how you can increase your guilt by the sin of denial and deliberate suppression.

I want to make clear that in my political circle one has also accepted the facts according to international law. Irian Jaya had become a province of the Indonesian Republic and the lawful authority over this province was established in Jakarta. In the years after, we never wanted or were able to give political or moral support to the resistance of the OPM.
Although the Papuans had been integrated in Indonesia, that doesn’t justify that the Netherlands systematically ignored the issue. And that is just what happened. This was made worse by the diplomatic breach between the Netherlands and Indonesia in 1992. Some years later, when we learned about a famine in the interior of Irian Jaya, hardly anything could be done from the Netherlands. Even the NGOs had as good as disappeared. Only the mission still had contacts in the interior and could provide some aid. This was frustrating.

In 1999, thirty years after the so-called Act of free choice, something changed. In Jakarta there were political changes and the liberal Wahid came to the stage. The new president recognised that Aceh and Irian Jaya were areas that deserved a special status. In the same year, articles about documents from Australia and the United States appeared in the international press, which shed new light on the manipulations in 1969. That’s how I developed the idea to give thorough attention to that period in the decolonisation history of the Netherlands. It was more of a reaction to the decade-long neglect of the fate of the Papuans than a programmed step into the future.

The research has been published. The full light is on the injustice that the Papuans suffered. The question now is what political meaning can be given to this moment. How are we willing and able to take the responsibility for this injustice of yesteryear. If we take serious the principle of the right to self-determination, than the Papuans should be the first to formulate an answer to this question. First of all it is about their history, the injustice suffered by them, their being denied. We, the Dutch, may well support them with advice and assistance. That’s why, in this speech, I want to formulate some directions which I want to put to my Papuan friends. Because I know that I am jointly responsible.

The first direction is as follows. The worst possible way to give political meaning to history, is by exploiting the facts from the past to settle old debts. That is the way it has often been done in the Balkans with all its dire consequences. In this way what happened in the past will never be history, but will keep coming up as a source of revengefulness. Therefore, at this moment, I would like to call for a dialogue between the main stakeholders, namely Jakarta and the Papuans, which if required may be supported by the Netherlands and the United Nations. The dialogue should first and foremost focus on reconciliation by some sort of recognition of wrongdoings in the past, of 1969 and also of the subsequent decades of maltreatment of the Papuans. In this dialogue the Papuans should be recognized in their independence. How to define this independence, also politically, is one of the main issues of the dialogue. In this way the road can be cleared — while accepting the political status quo for the moment - for ending the systematic neglect of the development of the Papuans and their land, the unidirectional exploitation of the natural resources and the violations of human rights. The Papuans’ right to development must be recognised.

Secondly, it needs to be realised that the dialogue should be preceded by an important choice. That choice concerns the moment of the beginning of the political agenda of the Papuans. Is it 1969? That’s possible, but reality forces us to realise that Jakarta most likely will not cooperate and that the international community probably will not give support. Or is it 2000, the year when president Wahid promised the Papuans an autonomy law? The question about the political agenda should be answered first and foremost by the Papuan leadership. Let me concretise. When Papuan leaders like Viktor Kaisiëpo are shouting ‘merdeka’, as I heard more than once, which freedom are they referring to? Is it about the political freedom of the Papuan people to establish an independent state? Or is it about freedom from want and freedom from fear as the basis for a political, socio-economic and cultural development programme for a self-assured people within the Indonesian Republic?

Thirdly, all stakeholders should realise that history has not come to a standstill after 1969. Many things have changed in many ways, also demographically. The fundamental principal of equality obliges us, today in 2005, to take into account the rights and legitimate wishes of other populations which have become part of land and people through for instance transmigration programmes.

I repeat: political responsibility is always experienced in the present. Don’t hold yourself hostage of the past or by the injustices in those days. Be prepared to make gestures and do deeds of reconciliation. Do this looking to the future and aiming for a good life for all the inhabitants of Papua. Do it with pride and self-respect, in short: exercise an act of free choice!