Swiss journalist arrested in Irian Jaya

Photo by Oswald Iten

Swiss journalist Oswald Iten was thrown in an Irian Jayan jail for 12 days in December 2000, for working as a reporter whilst on a tourist visa. Writing for the Neue Zurcher Zeitung, Oswald witnessed torture and murder in the Indonesian jail, and his story made international headlines. Oswald studied political economics at the University of Zurich, and graduated with a thesis on the Nuba people of Sudan. He has written about the struggles of indigenous people from all corners of the globe, and is the author of several books on the subject. MOSES ITEN spoke to Oswald, discovering how he exposed a National Geographic hoax and why he decided not to study rocket propulsion.

Link to NZZ article: ‘Prison, Torture and Murder in Jayapura’

At 19 years of age I was accredited as the youngest journalist covering the first moon shot (Apollo 11). I wanted to study rocket propulsion. But first I went on a trip to Africa. I wanted to see an old sunken culture, Egypt, and a living one, Ethiopia. When I crossed Sudan to connect the two countries, I discovered in Sudan an Africa which could have been an Africa a hundred years ago - if it were not for a civil war raging there. Coming back from this African trip I had no more interest in the moon. Why fly to the desert moon if this planet is so full of different cultures?

In 1986 I went to the Philippines to investigate the so-called Tasaday cave men. They were said to be a people of about 23 Stone Agers living in caves in Mindanao and had no knowledge of other people. They made it on the cover of the National Geographic Magazine and into the contents of books. I exposed that the whole thing was a hoax orchestrated by a Marcos minister who exploited the reserve said to be created for the protection of this untouched people. Of course the National Geographic denied it was tricked into the hoax, but a number of TV films have been made about it, and a flurry of articles have been written about it. Today the Tasaday and the denial of the hoax remains a stain on the yellow jacket of the NGM.

Most reports I felt helpless about them. But when I go on a story I don't give myself the mission of wanting to change something. I am not a politician, I am a chronicler. If the report does contribute to a betterment - great! I have reported on Central America, the Sudan, Ethiopia, etc. without seeing any impression on the ongoing conflict.

The indigenous people I visited often connect some hope with my reporting - that the world will now jump in on their behalf. Most often they will be disappointed because this does not happen. Well, sometimes there is a positive effect. Take the example of the Yanomami in Brazil who were invaded by gold diggers in 1987 whilst I happened to be there. My exposure of this scandal - and the combined effort of dozens of journalists around the world - forced the government finally to create a reserve for the Yanomami. That doesn't mean there is no problem now for the Yanomami, but their situation has made one step in the right direction.

The indigenous people have common problems: They have another relation to the land, have a concept of usership which obliges them to pass it on to the next generation undisturbed. They have no land titles in our sense, so governments or more ruthless parts of the society think it is ok to strip them of their territories. Unfortunately their land often covers rich mineral resources which the governments generally regard as theirs to exploit without consent of the indigenous societies. Their cultures have other values - upon which we generally look down. And often they regard our material world as desirable. They are seldom able to unite in front of attacks from the outside, they are prone to attempts by companies and governments to split them up. Divide and rule is still a well working recipe.

I knew my colleagues all over the world, trough their associations like the Committee to Protect Journalists and others, would do everything to get me out. And the things I had to witness in the jail of Jayapura were somehow more bearable because I knew I had an important function of being able one day to give testimony to what is normal routine in an Indonesian jail: torture and murder.

In that situation in Indonesia I had no choice. It was not me who decided to become an item, it was decided by the so-called security forces (which should better be renamed insecurity forces). But normally journalists can make their own choice. Do they want to stand in front of the camera, which style of story telling they apply, how much personal distance they want to have from their topic. This is up to them - and their media outlet.

The first time was in 1993, when I entered illegally from Papua New Guinea and joined the rebel group Organisasi Papua Merdeka (OPM). I knew then if the Indonesians would catch me they’d "cut my ears off". Afterwards I entered legally as a tourist - which I tried to do this time again. Already back in 1993 journalists were restricted from reporting out of Irian Jaya or West Papua. I thought now under Wahid the situation would have eased. But it proved that exactly about the time of my last trip it was the security forces who decided to call the shots, not the civilian authorities.

The biggest risk I could have imagined this time was deportation. I wouldn't have imagined the authorities to be that stupid to stick a journalist into a cell with political prisoners. In 1993 it was different, since I clearly entered illegally. This time it was a visa technicality. Remember the immigration officers (ie the civil arm of the government) did not even fine me and did not bar me from re-entering Indonesia [in December 2000]. It was the irresponsible police who decided to go rough with me.

There are always risks in life. When you board your car you don't think you might not reach home again in the evening. But every evening some people don’t return home. When you go on a dangerous assignment you certainly are aware that it will be a privilege to return home safely. By the way - the biggest danger I can recount are always car accidents.

I was treated well by the small policemen. The chief wanted to treat me badly because to him I was also a monetary asset, a hostage so to say, for which the ransom goes up the worse he is treated.

First it got me in jail - but a tourist could face the same in a similar situation. Once in jail it helped me a great deal to be a journalist: because the outside world did everything to get me out, and inside I knew I had an important function, that of a witness.

I was sure I would have never served five years. This would have become unbearable for the Indonesian government. But with time passing on I would have thought more severely of escaping.

Great, I tell you. And I was glad to thank everybody who intervened on my behalf or just kept his fingers crossed.

The involvement is there, you analyse the situation and make it comprehensible for your audience. But I am not an activist demonstrating in the streets. I want to keep a distance, also in order to retain my credibility of an observer. Of course when it comes to the point that you are engaged by others (like me and the police in Jayapura) you become a part. When I was recently invited to speak in front of the committee on foreign affairs of the Irish parliament I recounted what I have seen. But when they asked me about what should Ireland do I said I am not a politician. But I said I feel obliged to ask them to demand the release of my fellow political prisoners who are still in jail.

If you fall from a horse get back immediately on its back or give up riding all together.

Don't follow my path or anybody else's path - follow your own path. But I can assure you that the profession of a journalist can be very benefiting. I wouldn't dream of anything else. And I would wish him or her good luck.