Beneath the grey clouds that hovered over the highlands of Sinak in Central Papua, three men were Amus Tabuni, Amute Tabuni and Anis Tabuni stepped forward. Each bore a heavy past, each carried scars unseen, and each took a solemn oath: to lay down arms and return home—not just to their village, but to the Republic of Indonesia.
They were not ordinary men. All three were former combatants of the Organisasi Papua Merdeka (OPM), the separatist movement that for decades has sought independence from Jakarta. This day, however, they kissed the red-and-white flag—the Merah Putih—and pledged loyalty to the very nation they once opposed.
“I Am an Indonesian”
Wearing modest military-issue fatigues, the three brothers recited the “Ikrar Setia Kepada NKRI” — the Pledge of Allegiance to the Unitary State of the Republic of Indonesia — with conviction in their voices and tears in their eyes.
“Saya berjanji setia kepada Negara Kesatuan Republik Indonesia. Saya menyesali segala tindakan yang saya lakukan bersama OPM.” (“I pledge loyalty to the Unitary State of the Republic of Indonesia. I regret all actions I took with the OPM.”) they said in unison.
The emotional scene, held at the Sinak District Military Post (Koramil 1714-04), was witnessed by village elders, community leaders, local military commanders, and teary-eyed residents. As the national anthem played, the former rebels saluted the flag — the same symbol they once rejected.
The return of these men marks a growing trend across Papua: weary former OPM fighters are choosing peace over struggle, home over hardship.
A Slow March from the Jungle
For years, these three brothers lived on the run — hidden deep within the forests of Puncak Regency, under constant threat from both military patrols and the natural dangers of Papua’s unforgiving terrain.
One of them, whose identity is being protected for security reasons, later told a local pastor, “The jungle was never our home. We were lost. This is our true place.”
Their decision to surrender was facilitated by ongoing negotiations between local tribal elders and the Indonesian military’s community outreach task force.
According to Lt. Marten Rumbiak, who oversaw the ceremony, this surrender was the result of months of trust-building.
“We never came with anger,” Rumbiak told reporters. “We came with patience and dialogue. We listened.”
From Fighters to Farmers
The brothers’ return follows a series of similar events across Papua in recent months. In Maybrat, West Papua, a former high-ranking OPM commander, Yeremias Foumair, surrendered with his group of fighters, citing exhaustion and disillusionment.
“I was tired of a life in hiding, full of fear and suffering,” Yeremias said during his own ceremony in May 2025.
Following their pledges, these former insurgents often request a chance to return to civilian life — many choosing to farm, raise livestock, or rejoin their churches and clans.
Minanggeng Murib, another ex-OPM fighter who surrendered earlier this year in Ilaga, shared a similar sentiment, “I want to start a new life,” he said quietly. “A peaceful life as a gardener.”
For many, the dream is simple: to provide for their families and live without fear.
A Tactical Shift in the Conflict
Papua has long been a region of political complexity and human tragedy. Since its controversial integration into Indonesia in 1969, resistance movements like the OPM have been engaged in both armed and ideological struggle, calling for independence from Jakarta.
But the landscape appears to be shifting. In place of military offensives, the Indonesian government — particularly through the military’s Territorial Command — is now emphasizing “soft approaches.”
Lt. Col. Yakhya Wisnu Arianto, who leads the TNI 133/YS Task Force, said that the army has learned that “violence cannot win hearts.”
“Our approach now is to protect, not provoke,” Arianto said. “We offer peace, not punishment.”
That approach appears to be bearing fruit. In one village in Maybrat, 30 OPM members swore allegiance to Indonesia in a single day in May 2024. Most of them, according to official records, had joined under duress.
One, Feliks Fomaer, admitted publicly:
“We were intimidated and forced. But now we know that Indonesia is not the enemy.”
Symbolism and Ceremony
The rituals accompanying these reintegration ceremonies are deeply symbolic — and very public.
At each event, returning fighters are asked to remove their rebel insignia, accept an Indonesian flag pin, and kiss the Merah Putih — a powerful act of national reconciliation.
They also recite a standardized loyalty oath, which is often followed by prayers led by local pastors or imams. In many cases, tribal elders offer their own benedictions, framing the return as a spiritual and cultural reawakening.
For the community, these events signal closure. For the returning fighters, they offer redemption.
Public Response: Forgiveness, Not Fear
In Sinak, where the most recent ceremony took place, the mood among the villagers was overwhelmingly supportive.
A local mother, who asked to remain unnamed, said her brother had once joined the OPM, and was later killed in a firefight.
“I do not want more blood,” she said. “Let them come home. Let us all come home.”
Village elders echoed that sentiment, many saying they prefer reconciliation to revenge.
“They are our sons,” one elder said simply. “We are a family again.”
Still, there are concerns. Some officials privately acknowledge the risk of “false surrender” — where fighters use amnesty as a temporary cover.
To prevent this, each former combatant is now monitored by a local security team and assigned a community mentor. Their progress — in work, behavior, and community engagement — is tracked over months.
The Numbers
While exact figures remain classified, the Indonesian military estimates that over 150 former OPM fighters have returned to the fold since January 2024.
More than 70 of those returns occurred in the highland regions of Central Papua and West Papua — areas once considered strongholds of resistance.
According to TNI sources, the majority of those who surrendered cited the following reasons are disillusionment with the OPM leadership, harsh living conditions in the forest, family reunification, promises of job opportunities and protection, and disbelief in the long-term viability of independence.
A New Narrative for Papua?
For decades, the OPM was viewed by some as the sole voice for Papuan independence. But cracks have emerged. Younger Papuans, especially those with access to education and social media, are beginning to ask harder questions.
Can armed conflict ever lead to sovereignty? Can development coexist with identity? Can a Papuan be both tribal and Indonesian?
These are not easy questions. But for returning fighters like the three brothers in Sinak, the answer is personal.
“We were lost,” one of them said quietly to a reporter after the ceremony. “Now, we are found.”
Jakarta’s Challenge
The central government has welcomed these surrenders, but now faces a critical test: turning symbolism into substance.
Critics argue that welcoming defectors is not enough. Without long-term economic inclusion, cultural respect, and political representation, they say, these ceremonies are little more than photo ops.
Dr. Intan Wibowo, a conflict resolution expert at the University of Indonesia, cautions against over-celebration.
“This is a start,” she said. “But unless the root causes of discontent are addressed—poverty, inequality, lack of access—then the peace will be fragile.”
What Comes Next?
Back in Sinak, the three former fighters are adjusting to their new reality. They are being housed temporarily in a military-supported shelter while paperwork for civilian resettlement is processed.
They’ve requested to return to their native village, under the protection of local security forces. There, they plan to build homes, plant cassava, and raise pigs.
“No more hiding,” one said. “Just a normal life.”
The Indonesian flag (red and white) they once feared is now the flag they salute.
As dusk fell over the ceremony ground in Sinak, one of them stood for a final photo, holding the red-and-white cloth to his chest.
“This is my flag,” he said, not smiling, but resolved. “This is my home.”
Sidebar: What Is OPM?
The Organisasi Papua Merdeka (Free Papua Movement), known by its Indonesian acronym OPM, is a separatist organization that has been active in Papua since the 1960s. It seeks independence for the Papua region, which was integrated into Indonesia following a controversial UN-administered vote in 1969 known as the Act of Free Choice.
The group is known for both political lobbying and armed insurgency. In recent years, its military wing — often referred to as the TPNPB — has been involved in clashes with Indonesian forces in the highlands, particularly in Puncak, Nduga, and Intan Jaya.
Conclusion
The return of the three former OPM fighters in Sinak is more than just a local ceremony—it represents a growing shift in Papua’s decades-long conflict. These moments of surrender, reconciliation, and reintegration are powerful symbols of what can happen when dialogue replaces violence and when empathy outweighs hostility.
As more ex-combatants choose to lay down arms, the Indonesian government faces a critical opportunity—and responsibility—to turn symbolic gestures into sustainable peace. That means ensuring returned fighters are not only accepted but supported, that their communities are heard, and that the deeper issues of inequality, marginalization, and historical grievance are addressed honestly.
If managed with care, these returns could mark a turning point in Papua’s story: from rebellion to reconciliation, from conflict to coexistence. Under the red-and-white flag they once opposed, these former fighters are now choosing a different future—one rooted in peace, identity, and shared nationhood.
In their quiet vow—“Saya kembali ke Ibu Pertiwi”—echoes a broader hope: that Papua can heal, one pledge at a time.
