ANALYSIS: By Laurens Ikinia in Jakarta
The logbook of presidential flights in Indonesia reveals an unusual pattern — from the Merdeka Palace to the Land of the Bird of Paradise.
By 2023, then President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo had set foot in Papua at least 17 times — a record in the republic’s history, surpassing the total visits of all previous presidents combined.
Each touchdown of the presidential plane on the land of Papua or at the new airports he inaugurated was more than just a working visit. It was a statement of presence as a political message: Papua is no longer marginalised; it exists on Indonesia’s main political map.
Yet, behind the roar of the presidential plane and the welcoming traditional dances, lies a critical question: Has the physical presence of a national leader, accompanied by the rumble of massive infrastructure projects, touched the core issues of Papua?
Or has it merely become a grand symbol of integration, while social fractures, injustice, and sorrow continue to flow?
This analysis evaluates the multifaceted impact of President Jokowi’s dozen plus visits and draw crucial lessons for the new administration of President Prabowo Subianto and Vice-President Gibran Rakabuming Raka (Jokowi’s Son) in weaving a more just and sustainable Papuan policy.
The multidimensional impact of Jokowi’s visits
From a national political perspective, the frequency of President Jokowi’s visits to Papua, was a smart and unprecedented political communication strategy. Each landing in the Melanesian land has not merely been a routine agenda but a powerful symbolic political performance.
Handshakes with tribal chiefs, meetings with traditional leaders in public arenas, and speeches amid crowds function as direct counter-narratives to long-standing issues of marginalisation and separatism.
This physical presidential presence is an undeniable visual declaration: Papua is an inseparable part of Indonesia, and the nation’s highest leader is consistently present there.
This presence serves as a potent tool of state legitimacy, shortening the psychological distance between the centre of power in Jakarta and the easternmost Melanesian region, while demonstrating the intended political commitment. However, beneath this symbolism, the legitimacy built through physical presence is temporary if not supported by real structural change.
The critical question often raised by the community, especially Indigenous Papuans (OAP), is simple yet fundamental: “After the president’s planes and helicopters leave and the protocol frenzy subsides, what has truly changed for our lives?”
The narrative of integration through presence and physical development often clashes with demands for self-determination and historical grievances still alive among indigenous Papuans, as reflected in the ongoing armed conflict in the Central Highlands, indicating that this approach has not fully addressed the deep-seated roots of dissatisfaction.
The most visible legacy of the Jokowi era in Papua is none other than the infrastructure revolution — thousands of kilometres of the Trans-Papua Road cutting through wilderness and remote mountains, the magnificent Youtefa Bridge in Jayapura, and airport modernisations like Ewer Airport in Asmat, Wamena Airport, and the construction of the trans-Wamena-Jayapura road, Wamena-Nduga road, and other physical developments.
The government’s logic is that connectivity is an absolute prerequisite for growth. With good roads, the price of necessities in the interior is expected to drop, tourism can develop, and public services like health and education can become faster and more equitable.
Data from the Ministry of Public Works and Housing indeed records significant accessibility improvements. However, behind this physical progress, reports from organisations like the Pusaka Foundation and Greenpeace Indonesia warn of massive and often overlooked ecological impacts.
The opening of certain segments of the Trans-Papua Road is judged to accelerate deforestation, threaten Papua’s unique biodiversity, and disrupt watershed areas.
More profoundly, the issue of community involvement and consent in land acquisition processes often becomes a source of new conflict, sparking tension. As Indonesian human rights activist Usman Hamid has stated, infrastructure development is like a double-edged sword: on one side, it opens isolation and shortens distances, but on the other, it paradoxically erodes customary land rights, damages the environment that is the source of their cultural life and subsistence, and ironically, is enjoyed more by new settlers with greater capital and networks.
On the socio-economic level, the government vigorously distributed various social assistance programmes such as the Indonesia Health Card (KIS), Indonesia Smart Card (KIP), and various forms of Direct Cash Assistance (BLT).
These affirmative policies aim directly at catching up on welfare gaps and, statistically, have succeeded in reducing poverty rates in cities like Jayapura, although they remain the highest nationally. Sectors like Youtefa Bay tourism also show rapid growth. However, the economic growth created is often enclave-like and not inclusive.
Maria, a small business owner in Jayapura, illustrates this reality — large infrastructure projects are handled by contractors from outside Papua, hotels and medium-scale businesses are often owned by non-Papuan investors, while local SMEs struggle to compete due to limited access to capital, training, and marketing networks.
The structural gap between OAP and non-Papuans in ownership of means of production and access to quality job opportunities remains wide. Consequently, many Papuan sons and daughters only become manual labourers or contract workers on the grand projects building their ancestral land, an irony that deepens the sense of injustice.
In the socio-cultural realm, President Jokowi’s presence, often adorned with Papuan cultural ornaments and humbly participating in traditional dances, was a powerful form of symbolic recognition. This gesture sent a national message that Papuan culture is respected and valued at the highest state level.
However, this symbolic recognition on the political stage often does not align with the daily reality in Papua. The late Papuan peace figure, Father Neles Tebay, once described that in Papuan cities, “two worlds” often coexist but do not integrate: the modern world of migrants dominating the formal sector and modern economy, and the world of indigenous communities, often marginalised in culturally insensitive development processes.
Ethnic-tinged horizontal conflicts that have occurred, such as in Jayapura and Mimika, are clear indicators of how fragile social harmony is and how deep the unresolved socio-cultural gap remains.
The darkest and most challenging point of this entire development narrative lies in human rights issues and the unending armed conflict. Although presidential visits often include a conflict resolution agenda, incidents of human rights violations and armed clashes between security forces and the TPNPB (West Papua National Liberation Army) continue to recur, with unarmed civilians often becoming trapped victims, as in the tragedies in Nduga and Intan Jaya highlighted by Komnas HAM and LBH Jakarta.
An approach relying almost solely on physical development, unaccompanied by sincere efforts towards historical reconciliation and fair, transparent law enforcement for past human rights violations, is considered by many in Papua as merely “covering a festering internal wound with a bandage”.
This unresolved historical pain and injustice continues to be the main fuel for resistance and demands for independence, proving that concrete and asphalt roads alone are not enough to build lasting peace and justice felt by all the nation’s children.
Valuable lessons for the Prabowo-Gibran era
The current administration under President Prabowo Subianto and Vice-President Gibran Rakabuming Raka must not continue the Papuan policy with business as usual. The previous administration’s legacy offers a clear roadmap, as well as warnings about dead ends that must be avoided.
Four critical lessons should form the basis for transitioning from symbolic development to substantive, just transformation.
First, policy focus must undergo a paradigm shift from mere physical development towards the holistic empowerment of Papuan people. This means massive investment in quality education with curricula relevant to social contexts and local potential, as well as vocational training that equips Indigenous Papuans with skills to manage the economy on their own land.
Firm and measurable affirmative schemes must be designed to ensure Indigenous Papuans are not merely spectators, but the primary owners and managers of strategic economic sectors, from culture-based tourism and organic agriculture to creative industries.
Without this step, magnificent infrastructure will only become a channel for an extractive economy controlled by outsiders, perpetuating dependency and disparity.
Second, the government must enforce the principle of absolute harmony between development, cultural preservation, and environmental protection. Every major project, especially those touching customary lands and indigenous forest areas, must undergo credible, participatory, and legally binding Environmental and Social-Cultural Impact Assessments (AMDAL & ANDAL).
Development must no longer sacrifice local wisdom and ecosystems that are the soul and identity of Papuan society. Development models imported from Java or Sumatra must be reviewed and replaced with approaches born from dialogue with local ecology and culture, so that progress is not synonymous with environmental destruction and cultural marginalisation.
Third, this new era must open space for conflict resolution through a courageous approach of dialogue and reconciliation. The government needs to initiate inclusive dialogue involving all elements of Papuan society, including pro-independence groups willing to discuss peacefully, to address the roots of historical and structural dissatisfaction.
This complex issue has been comprehensively formulated by the Papua Peace Network. The establishment of an independent and trusted Papua Truth and Reconciliation Commission could be a monumental step to heal past wounds and build a foundation for sustainable peace, recognising that true security is born from justice.
Fourth, Special Autonomy must be revived in its meaning and spirit. A comprehensive evaluation of the implementation of the Special Autonomy Law, along with its trillions of rupiah in fund flows, is a necessity.
These funds must be shifted from physical projects that are often off-target to investments in enhancing the capacity, health, and economy of indigenous Papuans. More importantly, Special Autonomy must be interpreted as a political recognition of the special rights of Indigenous Papuans.
This means strengthening traditional institutions and providing real and decisive participatory space in every strategic decision-making at the provincial and district levels, so that policies are no longer felt as something imposed from Jakarta.
Ultimately, the main challenge for the Prabowo-Gibran administration is to demonstrate that commitment to Papua goes beyond rhetoric and showcase projects. Success will be measured not by the length of roads built, but by the fading of tension, the reduction of disparities, and the rise of self-confidence and economic independence among Indigenous Papuans.
Only by making these four pillars — human empowerment, harmony, dialogue, and living autonomy — the foundation of policy can Papua be truly integrated into the Republic of Indonesia in a dignified and sustainable manner.
A revolutionary approach model
To translate the lessons from the previous era, the current administration requires a radical change in its approach model, moving from a centralised development paradigm towards participatory governance based on Papuan native institutions.
The most revolutionary option is to form a special ministry focused on empowering Indigenous Papuans, inspired by the Ministry of Māori Development in New Zealand.
This ministry is not intended to manage regional administration, but specifically to guarantee the fulfilment of indigenous Papuans’ rights, as mandated in the Special Autonomy Law.
By placing the Governing Body for the Acceleration of Special Autonomy Development in Papua (BP3OKP) and the Papua Special Autonomy Acceleration Executive Committee under it, the government can create centralised, strong, and accountable coordination, thereby avoiding programme overlap and leakage of Special Autonomy funds.
This institutional revolution must be supported by data-based governance and authentic participation. Every policy and fund allocation, especially the massive Special Autonomy funds, must arise from rigorous data studies and in-depth dialogue with the community, rather than just technocratic planning in Jakarta.
Transparency and accountability in fund use must be guaranteed through independent oversight mechanisms that actively involve representatives of traditional councils or institutions, religious institutions, and local NGOs as watchdogs. Only then can the allocated funds truly become an instrument of change, not merely an instrument of expenditure.
Another key pillar is building equal and formal partnerships with Papuan traditional institutions, such as the Papuan Customary Council (DAP) and various stakeholders. These institutions are not merely ceremonial objects but must be recognised as strategic government partners in every stage of development, from planning and implementation to evaluation.
As socio-cultural anchors, understanding the pulse and real needs of the community, their involvement can prevent social conflict and ensure development programmes align with local wisdom and customary rights.
Furthermore, meaningful decentralisation becomes a prerequisite for success. Local governments in Papua must be given substantive authority and massive capacity building to independently manage natural resources and public services.
Moreover, the development approach must start from the grassroots, making participatory development at the village level the standard method. This method ensures that community aspirations are heard directly and the projects implemented truly address their priority needs, not merely pursuing physical targets.
Ultimately, this approach aims to reverse the traditional relationship between the central government and local governments in Papua. From a relationship that has so far seemed patron-client, to a partnership based on the sovereignty of indigenous communities and substantive justice.
Thus, development is no longer felt as something given from above, but something built together from below, creating a sense of ownership and sustainability that will become the foundation for long-term peace and prosperity in Papua.
Indonesianising in the Papuan Way
Reinterpreting the term “Indonesianising” Papua is a main task for the current administration. This concept must no longer be interpreted as an assimilation process erasing distinctive identity, but must transform into an integration that respects uniqueness.
True integration is not homogenisation, but an effort to embrace diversity as a strength. In this context, Indonesia is not a single mould, but a mosaic that gains its beauty precisely from the differences of each piece. For this, a multidimensional approach grounded in four main pillars is required.
First, in the field of education, the national curriculum must become more flexible and inclusive. Enrichment with local content — such as the history and wisdom of Papuan tribes, local languages, and inherited ecological wisdom — should not be merely supplementary, but the core of the learning process.
Schools must become places where Papuan children are proud of their identity while mastering global competencies. Second, in the field of the economy, self-reliance must be built on local strengths.
Easily accessible micro-financing systems, entrepreneurship training, and strong marketing support for flagship products like Wamena arabica coffee, sago, matoa, or high-value marine products will create a sovereign economy that empowers, rather than displaces, the indigenous people.
Third, recognition at the legal level is the foundation of justice. Recognition of the customary land rights of indigenous communities in land and natural resource governance must be guaranteed and integrated into national regulations. This is a concrete step to prevent agrarian conflict and ensure development benefits return to the rightful land owners.
Fourth, building intensive cultural dialogue through student, artist, and youth exchange programs between Papua and other regions, or other countries. This direct interaction will break the chain of prejudice, build empathy, and strengthen a true sense of brotherhood as one nation.
Towards a ‘Just Papua’
The legacy from the previous period is ambivalent. On one hand, there is magnificent infrastructure and symbolic integration strengthened through physical presence; on the other, deep disappointment remains due to unbridged gaps and a persistently pulsating conflict.
The Prabowo-Gibran administration now stands at a historical crossroads. The choice is between continuing the visually spectacular yet often elitist “concrete development” model or taking a more winding yet dignified path: namely, the Papuan human empowerment model, which places indigenous Papuans as the primary subject and heir to the future of their own land.
This strategic choice will be fate-determining. It will measure, later at the end of their term, whether presidential and vice-presidential visits to Papua are still met with cold protocol performances, or with new hope and genuine smiles from a people who feel recognised, valued, and empowered.
Ultimately, genuine national integration can only be realised when Indigenous Papuans can stand tall with all their identity and dignity, not as a party being “Indonesianised,” but as fully-fledged Indonesians who also shape the face of the nation.
The future of Papua is not about becoming like others, but about being itself in the embrace of the Bird of Garuda.
Laurens Ikinia is a Papuan lecturer and researcher at the Institute of Pacific Studies, Indonesian Christian University, Jakarta. He is also an honorary member of the Asia Pacific Media Network (APMN) in Aotearoa New Zealand, and an occasional contributor to Asia Pacific Report.
Article by AsiaPacificReport.nz
