The morning sun had barely risen above the cobalt horizon when Nabire’s main streets began to fill. From the junction of Jalan Merdeka to the wide expanse near the old airport, the air felt different—lighter, brighter, carrying the hum of anticipation. Elderly women in patterned noken slung across their shoulders walked beside teenagers in crisp white school shirts. Vendors paused their morning trade, eyes catching flashes of crimson and white being handed out in bundles.
This was no ordinary civic gathering. On Saturday, August 9, 2025, the Government of Central Papua officially launched an ambitious movement: the distribution of ten million Merah Putih flags to mark Indonesia’s 80th Independence Day.
A Sea of Red and White in the Heart of Nabire
The ceremony began at the city’s Car Free Day route, a vibrant artery where weekly social and sports activities bring together people from all walks of life. This time, however, it wasn’t fitness that united them, but patriotism. On a temporary stage adorned with banners, Silwanus Sumule, the Acting Regional Secretary of Central Papua, stepped forward with a message that resonated deeply.
“The Merah Putih is not merely a piece of cloth. It is a symbol of sovereignty, unity, and the sacrifice of heroes who fought for this land,” Sumule told the crowd, his voice steady yet tinged with emotion. “This movement is not just a government program. It belongs to the people. Let us make it a force to strengthen kinship, build togetherness, and reinforce our spirit of mutual cooperation for the progress of Central Papua.”
The crowd responded with applause that rolled down the street like a wave. In that moment, the stage became more than a platform—it was a pulpit for unity, a reminder of shared identity.
Courage in the Face of Fear
Yet, the boldness of this campaign cannot be separated from its context. Central Papua is no stranger to tension. For years, certain areas have been shadowed by the threats and intimidation of the West Papua National Liberation Army (TPNPB), the armed wing of West Papua Liberation (OPM), whose armed activities have created an undercurrent of fear. In such an environment, raising the national flag is not always a neutral act—it can be perceived as a statement of allegiance, and in some places, it has drawn unwanted attention.
That is why the sight of hundreds—perhaps thousands—openly accepting, displaying, and waving the Merah Putih was more than festive cheer. It was a collective act of courage. Each flag given, each flag received, and each flag displayed was a small but powerful declaration: “We belong. We are part of Indonesia.”
From the Streets to the Shores
Within hours of the launch, the flags began appearing across Nabire. They fluttered from bamboo poles outside modest wooden homes, draped over shop fronts in the bustling market, and swayed from fishing boats ready to set sail into the Pacific waters.
Sumule urged that the flags should not remain folded in drawers or hung in offices alone.
“Let the red and white fly in every corner of Central Papua—in homes, offices, schools, markets, roads, and even on fishermen’s boats,” he said. “This is a month to celebrate and a month to remember who we are.”
True to his call, the campaign began to ripple outward—not just physically, but emotionally. For many, seeing their street lined with red and white banners rekindled a sense of belonging and optimism.
A Movement, Not a Ceremony
This was not simply about one morning’s distribution. The ten million flags represent an ongoing push to saturate every district, every kampung, and every coastal hamlet with the national colors ahead of August 17, the date etched into every Indonesian heart.
The scale of the campaign is unprecedented for the province. While “ten million” may be a symbolic national target, the intent is crystal clear: to ensure no citizen of Central Papua feels left out of this monumental celebration.
The launch coincided with broader national efforts, but the stakes in Papua are uniquely high. Here, the act of flying the Merah Putih carries extra weight—it is both an expression of unity and a stand against forces seeking to fracture it.
Stories from the Ground
In the crowd, Maria Yekwam, a local high school teacher, clutched her flag like a precious gift. “For my students, this is not just a decoration. It is a lesson. When they hang this outside their home, they are telling the world they are proud to be part of this nation,” she said.
At the harbor, Daniel, a fisherman in his fifties, tied his flag to the mast of his small motorboat. “When I go to sea, I take this with me. I want everyone to know I am Indonesian, wherever I sail.”
Even younger voices carried the same pride. Andreas, a university student home for the holidays, took three flags—one for his parents’ house, one for his boarding room, and one for his motorcycle. “It’s more than a flag,” he said. “It’s my identity.”
The Build-Up to August 17
As the 80th Independence Day draws near, the government has lined up a series of events in Central Papua. Parades, cultural performances, interfaith prayers, and traditional games will accompany the sight of millions of flags across the province. Officials expect the display to be the most visually striking in recent memory.
But more than visuals, the movement aims to strengthen social bonds. The concept of gotong royong—mutual cooperation—is woven through the campaign. Residents are encouraged not only to raise their own flags but also to help neighbors who may not have the means to do so.
Why It Matters for Papua Tengah
For Central Papua, this campaign is about more than a birthday celebration for the Republic. It is about asserting presence, unity, and resilience in a region often portrayed through the lens of conflict. The Merah Putih becomes a unifying visual language that transcends ethnicity, religion, and political leaning.
The hope, as Sumule emphasized, is that the legacy of the independence struggle will be passed on intact to the younger generation, tying them not only to history but also to the vision of Golden Indonesia 2045—a prosperous, just, and unified nation by its centennial year.
From Flags to Futures
Critics might dismiss the distribution of flags as symbolic rather than substantive. But in regions where identity is contested and fear lingers, symbolism has power. Each flag that flutters in the wind becomes a marker—of solidarity, of hope, of the belief that shared symbols can hold communities together when rhetoric and policy fall short.
And for many in Nabire and beyond, the flag is not a hollow gesture. It is a promise that they are seen, valued, and included in the national narrative.
Conclusion
The ten million Merah Putih movement in Central Papua began with speeches, handshakes, and camera flashes, but its true success will be measured in the weeks to come. As August 17 dawns, the vision is clear: a province awash in red and white, a people standing together despite any wind that tries to bend them.
In a place where the stakes of unity are high, the act of flying a flag is no small thing. It is an act of faith—in the Republic, in one another, and in the future. And as those flags ripple against the sea breeze, the message is unmistakable: We are here. We are together. We are Indonesia.