<<previous  | index  |  next>>

III. Silencing the Media, Blotting Out the War

I want all news published to contain the spirit of nationalism. Put the interests of the unitary state of Indonesia first. Don't blow up the news from GAM.⁹

—Major General Endang Suwarya, Aceh’s martial law commander

At the beginning of the military campaign it appeared that there would be a more open policy, by both the government and the military martial law administration in Aceh, toward media access and reporting of the war. Foreign correspondents, both resident and visiting, arrived in the first weeks of the operation, and were allowed access to the province. Indonesian journalists also deployed in large numbers, as both embedded correspondents traveling with military units and “unilateral” journalists who traveled independently.

In the first few weeks of the military operation some of the reporting focused on allegations of human rights abuses by Indonesian security forces in the province. The Indonesian military reacted defensively to the media allegations, and in at least two cases, threatened to sue media outlets over what they claimed were unsubstantiated charges. Rather than deal with the very real issue of unaccountable and undisciplined troops in Aceh, the government instead blamed and punished the media. As Ati Nurbaiti, head of Indonesia’s Alliance of Independent Journalists (AJI), told Human Rights Watch:

This was the first open operation for the TNI. It was an experiment for them. But, they were surprised at what openness resulted in. There was wide public support for the operation and they were ruining that support, at least among the journalists covering the war … [The result has been] a closing of public space. The activists are running away. We also see it in the media.¹⁰

One reason may be that journalists were finding abuses too quickly and easily. As one foreign correspondent told Human Rights Watch:

In that first week I went to six sites where people had been executed. It was much too easy to find execution sites … I was up in Aceh really early, in Bireuen. Even in those early days Indonesian journalists were getting clear warnings from the military on what they could and could not write ... All I know is that we kept finding, even accidentally, witnesses and evidence of execution-style killings. As reporters we didn’t even know what was going on in Aceh. We were just on the coast, we didn’t go to South or Central Aceh. So how do we know what really happened? The military reports never accorded with what we were finding in the field.¹¹

The Indonesian military has tried to ensure that any media coverage of the war supports the military’s official line. Using the U.S. program in Iraq to give its program legitimacy, to limit the independence of Indonesian journalists, the Indonesian military initiated a U.S.-style program of “embedding” journalists directly with military units in Aceh. Prior to deployment journalists are also given training in West Java on basic survival skills. The journalists are then wholly dependent on the units they are deployed with during their time in Aceh. The program also limits the contact these journalists are able to have with villagers in Aceh who may be unwilling to speak freely to journalists deployed with Indonesian troops.

Human Rights Watch has been told by two sources that Major General Sjafrie Sjamsoeddin, Indonesia’s Armed Forces spokesperson, was behind this initiative and actively sought advice and guidance from the U.S. on how to manage the media in Aceh. The result has not only been the use of embedded journalists, but also the establishment of sophisticated media centers in both Banda Aceh and Lhokseumawe. Press conferences in the province are also video-conferenced daily to a parallel media center in Jakarta.

The military has succeeded in using embedding to keep journalists under its watchful eyes and under control. However, any hopes among media organizations that access would result in more objective news have proved forlorn. Embedded journalists have not been allowed to report freely on what they observe.

The practice has severely restricted the independence of Indonesian journalists. One of the Indonesian embedded journalists who joined the training in West Java prior to her deployment in Aceh told Human Rights Watch:

We had four days of “wannabe” soldiers training. They said to us several times “we are one nation, stick to one nation, we should not let Aceh free from us, we journalists should feel NKRI ¹² at heart.” On the second day Sjafrie Sjamsoeddin arrived. He said “we were learning lots about the Iraq battle. I think it will be a good idea if we do that in Indonesia.”¹³

Another embedded newspaper journalist in Aceh told Human Rights Watch:

I often received information from SMS sources or GAM about incidents or civilian deaths, but the TNI would restrict me from going to certain areas. I would tell them that I want to go to a particular place and they would say that we were not allowed, that it was a military emergency, and it was not safe to go. I would say that we have not had confirmation about something, or that I wanted to check something and I would just be told to “drop the news”…people don’t want to talk to us anyway because we were embedded with the military. Better to work on our own, freer to travel alone.¹⁴

One of the embedded journalists told Human Rights Watch:

I was an embedded journalist. It was very scary because we were part of the fighting with the TNI. During the first couple of days we heard that GAM had a list of the names of the embedded journalists. We did not know what they were going to do with the list. My perspective was not clear, I began to fear all Acehnese, thinking they were all GAM.¹⁵

Independent journalists working in Aceh also have serious difficulties in their ability to move around freely. One Indonesian journalist told Human Rights Watch:

I have been reporting from Aceh since November 2002. Before the military emergency there were no restrictions at all but after the Presidential Decree [of June 16, 2003, imposing travel restrictions on foreign journalists] was issued there were lots of restrictions. I cannot move freely any more. I have to report to military authorities in every place I go. If I want to return again to a place I have to report again to the military, so they control where we are.¹⁶

Another Indonesian journalist told Human Rights Watch:

In East Aceh, I visited an IDP [internally displaced people] camp with military officers at the front of it. They asked us “do you have permission from the military office in Lhokseumawe and the KODIM ¹⁷ in Bireuen?” We didn’t. So, we went back once we had the permission, but the military escorted us into the camp. I was always escorted by an officer from the KODIM and the camat [sub-district head]. So, clearly the interviewees were scared to talk freely. I asked a simple question “how much rice do you get every day?” The interviewee was checking his answer with the camat behind me, saying “I am very sorry if my answer is wrong, pak camat.” That happens if IDPs are suspected to be GAM sympathizers. On June 6, in Blang Pidie we found an IDP camp full of Muslim students from a pesantren [religious school]. They had been moved with force to an IDP camp with high wooden fences and military posts. Everyone had to sign in. It was like a detention facility not an IDP camp.¹⁸

Those who did not agree to be embedded have had great difficulties in reporting on the war. One Indonesian radio journalist told Human Rights Watch:

From week to week [the TNI] gradually limited my mobility in Aceh. I was not embedded so I did not get any privileges from the TNI. I didn’t expect anything from either GAM or the TNI, but it was irritating because I couldn’t join the operations because I was not embedded and I could not visit GAM because we were not allowed to, for whatever reason the military had.¹⁹

GAM has also intimidated journalists. While GAM has talked about maintaining media freedom in the province, in a press statement released on July 3 the GAM leadership appeared to threaten journalists, stating:

The Leadership of the Acheh National Armed Forces (TNA) wishes to stress once again that the TNA support fully the work of journalists covering the events in Acheh truthfully. The TNA still and will always protect the freedom of movement of journalists anywhere in Acheh without exception, as long as they carry their duties in accordance with the journalistic codes of ethics.²⁰

The statement did not suggest how it would determine if a journalist was covering the war “truthfully” or “in accordance with the journalistic code of ethics” or what it would do if a journalist was judged to fail either of these tests.

One Indonesian journalist told Human Rights Watch that, “Several times I received intimidation from GAM, if we didn’t confirm stories with them, they are really angry, through SMS [cellular telephone text messaging].”²¹

Early reports also indicated that GAM may have planned on specifically targeting embedded journalists. In an open letter issued on May 15, 2003, AJI expressed concerns that GAM had requested from them a list of all the embedded journalists. They also cited a statement from GAM spokesman, Teungku Isnandar Al Pase, who, referring to the embedded journalists, was quoted as saying, “journalists who are going to be working with TNI troops in the military operation … are considered as a group of journalists who do not understand the practice of a free press. This group which is listed will not receive security guarantees.”²²

In May the private radio station Nikoya FM in Banda Aceh reportedly received a telephoned death threat from someone claiming to be a GAM commander. The caller threatened that GAM would kill a reporter if the station did not start carrying more balanced news.²³

Human Rights Watch calls on GAM to clarify these statements, end any threats, and make it clear that it will ensure the freedom of movement and the security of all journalists in areas under its control and in any encounters it has with journalists elsewhere in Aceh.

A. Physical Attacks on Journalists

Many journalists told Human Rights Watch that they had been fired upon while in Aceh, typically while traveling in vehicles.²⁴ The New York-based Committee to Protect Journalists reported seven separate incidents between May 21 and May 27, 2003 in which unidentified men shot at members of the national and international media.²⁵ On each occasion the reporters were traveling in clearly marked press vehicles. One Indonesian television journalist recounted one of these incidents:

In the second week of martial law…our car was shot at. Lots of bullets. One bullet punctured the car, the glass smashed and the door had a bullet hole in it. I had jumped out of the car. If I had not done that the bullet would have definitely gone into my side…There was a really big [name of press body withheld] banner on the left of the car, on the right, in front, and at the back … TNI said that we had been shot at by GAM. This was an area still under GAM control but I have my suspicions. I don’t know exactly who did it, as a journalist I can only give you the facts. The sound was of automatic gunfire.²⁶

It is unclear who was responsible for these attacks. Both Indonesia’s security forces and GAM have denied responsibility.

Andrew Marshall, a foreign correspondent for Time magazine, suggested that the Indonesian military was making use of civilian vehicles to intimidate the press:

Of all the hardware currently deployed in Aceh…it was a slate-gray Japanese sedan that unnerved us journalists the most. The car bore a large sign reading “Press,” yet it carried several uniformed men with guns. Who were they? Rebels of the Free Aceh Movement? Not likely: the car was spotted several times in broad daylight in areas controlled by the Indonesian military. More likely, we thought, the passengers were soldiers deliberately misusing press stickers to besmirch our independent and noncombatant status, and to draw us into the line of fire by making vehicles carrying journalists legitimate targets of either GAM or the TNI. It worked. By the end of the campaign's first week, at least seven real press vehicles had to brave a hail of bullets.²⁷

The following cases highlight the serious danger and difficulties facing journalists trying to report on the situation in Aceh.

1. The TVRI Killing

On June 17, 2003, Mohamad Jamaluddin’s body was found in a river in Kreung Cut village near Banda Aceh, the capital of Aceh Province. Jamaluddin’s eyes and mouth had been covered with tape, his hands had been bound, and a rope with a stone attached to it had been tied around his neck.

Jamaluddin, a cameraman with the national state owned Television network TVRI, had been missing for almost a month. Media reports indicate that he was kidnapped on about May 20, a day after martial law started in Aceh province.²⁸

Indonesia’s Press Council chairman Atmakusumah Astraatmadja immediately called for an independent investigation into Jamaluddin’s murder, and condemned the lack of protections for journalists in Aceh.²⁹

No one has claimed responsibility for the abduction or murder of Jamaluddin.

2. The Radio 68H Attack

At about midday on July 4, 2003, Alif Imam Nurlambang, an editor from Indonesia’s 68h radio station, was severely beaten by members of Indonesia’s security forces while reporting from Panton Luas in South Aceh. Alif had been in Aceh for three weeks and had been reporting about the conditions of the displaced population in South Aceh.

Alif says that on July 3 he had reported to the local military command, informing them that he was in the area and was planning on staying in South Aceh for three days. The following day Alif, his driver, and their guide entered Panton Luas. There was no military post there but they reported and gave their greetings at the police post. They experienced no problems and observed that the situation was calm.

Alif went to a local resident’s house to interview the owner. Alif had been at the house for around two hours when two military trucks and a Kopassus car filled with Kopassus, Brimob (mobile police brigade) and Marines arrived. Behind the truck was a Military Intelligence Services (SGI) car.³⁰ The majority of those present were Kopassus troops. The soldiers kicked down the door of the house and pulled Alif and the guide outside. Alif’s driver was waiting in the car.

Alif identified himself as a journalist, but five of the soldiers proceeded to severely beat and kick him. One of the soldiers hit Alif in the back with an M-16 rifle butt while another threatened to shoot him. One of the policemen present told Alif “this is a ‘black’ area.³¹ No one is allowed here except GAM. So, whoever enters must be GAM.”

After beating Alif, the soldiers examined all the goods in the car, including his journalist identification card, satellite phone, and mobile phone. They interrogated him about numbers in his mobile phone address book, accusing him of carrying the numbers of a well-known GAM commander. When the soldiers finished questioning Alif, they released him.

In a press release issued the next day Radio 68h issued a short chronology of the incident and warned that “only if journalists are able to carry out their duties without being threatened with violence or kidnap…will the public be able to obtain clear and accurate information.” ³²

Concerned about security conditions, Alif immediately left Aceh and returned to Jakarta. No soldier has been held accountable for the beating.

3. The RCTI Abductions

On June 29, 2003, a reporter and a cameraman from the RCTI television station were among a group of civilians kidnapped by GAM while working in Langsa, East Aceh. The two RCTI employees had been working in Aceh since the start of the military operations. The reporter, Ersa Siregar, cameraman Fery Santoro, their driver Rahmatsyah, and two civilians who were accompanying them went missing while driving on their way back to Lhokseumawe. The crew had radioed ahead to colleagues in Lhokseumawe to let them know they were to be expected back in the town by 8 o’clock that evening. By nightfall the van and crew had failed to appear.³³

On July 3, Teungku Mansoor, GAM spokesman for East Aceh, announced that the crew was being held by GAM soldiers. He told an AFP reporter that, “the reason that we are holding them for questioning is that the Indonesian military have been using the press to conduct intelligence operations in Aceh.”³⁴

The Indonesian military accused Ersa Siregar of being a pro-GAM reporter who was covering the war from behind GAM lines, and also insinuated that Ersa had voluntarily joined GAM and was therefore in a position to release himself.

On July 5, 2003, military forces discovered the missing RCTI minivan in a palm oil plantation in Peureulak, East Aceh. Military operation spokesman Lt. Col. Achmad Yani Basuki said:

I believe that RCTI journalist Erza and cameraman Fery Santoro know the location [of the van] so, for their own safety, we ask them to [go to the van and] raise a white flag…If Erza fails to show up by 6 p.m. on Tuesday, no one can blame the military for not protecting civilians, including them.³⁵

This sentiment was echoed by Indonesia’s Coordinating Minister for Political and security Affairs, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, who stated “I hope Ersa will be cooperative. Nessen [an American who had been traveling with GAM, and, fearing arrest by Indonesian authorities, sought help] has been cooperative, so we hope that Ersa, as an Indonesian citizen, will be cooperative.”³⁶

On July 6, in a widely publicized and broadcast meeting, RCTI deputy chief editor Imam Wachjudi and representatives from three Indonesian television stations and Kompas newspaper were allowed to visit the two abducted RCTI employees to check on their health and well being.³⁷ Accompanied into GAM territory with an armed escort, Wachjudi was able to meet with both Siregar and Santoro, and declared them well and in good health.

In apparent embarrassment over the ease in which the media representatives were allowed access to the kidnapped crew, the four media representatives were then detained by the police the next day and questioned at length over the meeting and their contact with GAM.

GAM has claimed that while military operations continue the conditions to secure the release of the victims cannot be negotiated. In the meantime Ersa Siregar, Ferry Santoro, Syafrida, Soraya, and Rahmatsyah remain in GAM custody.³⁸

B. Threats, Intimidation, and Pressure

Threats and angry statements from senior military officers have a chilling effect on journalists. Brigadier General Bambang Dharmono has been particularly abusive towards Indonesian journalists in the province. An Indonesian journalist told Human Rights Watch:

Bambang Dharmono is a very intimidating person. One of the Tempo journalists arrived and introduced himself to Bambang Dharmono. Bambang said “oh you’re the one who mixes [is incorrect about] his information in public.’ I heard Bambang say to him ‘my authority is just this close to God.’³⁹

Another Indonesian radio journalist recounted a different episode:

On about May 17 or 18 the Army Chief of Staff [Ryamizard Ryacudu] arrived in Lhokseumawe. The night before Bambang Dharmono’s press officer suggested to all of the press in Lhokseumawe that we should cover it and not leave town. “Suggest” meant “must.” But we all decided to cover a Sofyan Daud [GAM Deputy Military Commander and spokesperson] story instead as it was more interesting. So Bambang Dharmono got really upset that we went to visit Sofyan Daud. The next afternoon he was yelling at Zainal Batri, a reporter from Tempo. Zainal was very scared. Bambang said “I heard that you journalists just visited Sofyan Daud.” Zainal denied it. It’s a short incident but it was terrifying because it was public intimidation, at the communications operations center in Lhokseumawe.⁴⁰

Another Indonesian correspondent told Human Rights Watch:

I heard Bambang [Dharmono] arguing really hard with some of his staff, and he was slapping one of his men, in public. One or two cameramen were taping it and Bambang directly threatened the cameramen to erase it.⁴¹

Statements and incidents like those above resonate with journalists, particularly those who wish to report on the war impartially. Reporting on conflict is difficult enough without fear of government officers, but it is much more difficult in an environment of threats and intimidation. As one understated Indonesian journalist put it:

The fact that the TNI can do anything they like with us is pretty disturbing, especially with [TNI] directly intimidating journalists in public, in front of public meetings.⁴²

In addition to threats from senior commanders, journalists also face intimidation from soldiers guarding security posts in the field and troops on the road. One foreign correspondent told Human Rights Watch:

On a couple of occasions we tried to get into Cot Raboe, on the day of the killings.⁴³ Brimob stopped us and said “you are going too fast, you treat us like animals, you should respect us, we could slaughter you at any time.” Now, this is really vicious language from a guy with an automatic weapon. This is what he said to us; imagine what he is saying to the locals.⁴⁴

C. Civilians Afraid to Talk to Journalists

The threats against journalists have made Acehnese civilians reluctant to interact with the media. Such a culture of fear in Aceh is compounding the vacuum of information about conditions under martial law. Aceh’s civilians are now less likely to come forward with information if those they give it to do not even have security guarantees for themselves, let alone their sources.

One foreign correspondent for a wire agency in Jakarta told Human Rights Watch that, “people are petrified of talking to the foreign press for fear of reprisals.”⁴⁵ An Indonesian correspondent covering the war in Aceh was more direct. He told Human Rights Watch:

Aceh is a land of fear. The people do not know what is going to happen next. I always sensed fear in people’s eyes. I went into the districts. I know, I absolutely believe that they know who burnt the schools, but they are very afraid to tell anyone who is responsible.⁴⁶

Another Indonesian journalist concurred and told Human Rights Watch that people in Aceh were afraid to talk about rights violations to the press. He said, “Villagers always say ‘we don’t know who did it. If we blame GAM, GAM will come, if we blame TNI, TNI will come.’”⁴⁷

D. Self-censorship

One problem that seems to be apparent from the Aceh reporting is the emergence of a culture of fear within the media community. We’ve heard of interference on the part of the authorities, for instance when the military doesn’t like what is reported.⁴⁸

—Indonesian human rights lawyer Todung Mulya Lubis

One result of attacks, threats, intimidation, and pressure has been widespread self-censorship within the Indonesian media. In the face of pressure from military officers and some government figures to stem reporting critical of the TNI, often considered to be the equivalent of anti-nationalist or even anti-Indonesian reporting, journalists and even major media outlets have adjusted their coverage to reflect the military line.

Since the beginning of the war in May, news reports have become less and less critical of the military. Journalists and editors have all but stopped making direct accusations against security forces in Aceh. The overwhelming majority of local media have completely stopped reporting on statements or accusations cited directly from GAM sources. To protect themselves, Indonesian journalists who report on abuses often cite to international agencies or sources. Indonesian media also now no longer refer to the offensive in Aceh as a military operation, but instead increasingly call it the “integrated operation,” reflecting the military line that its operation in Aceh combine military, humanitarian, law enforcement, and local governance measures. One Jakarta foreign correspondent told Human Rights Watch “most local journalists are too afraid to report. Locals are now hiding behind agency reports.”⁴⁹

In the first week of martial law, the Indonesian martial law commander in Aceh, Major General Endang Suwarya, specifically warned both foreign and domestic journalists to keep their coverage “accurate.” Clarifying the TNI position on accuracy, Suwarya told journalists in Aceh “there should be no reports from GAM and [no] reports that praise GAM.”⁵⁰

One Indonesian journalist told Human Rights Watch that this message was taken very seriously and was implemented almost immediately:

On the third or fourth day Metro TV aired some footage of a person wearing a GAM t-shirt putting out a fire at a school. The whole night afterwards Bambang [Dharmono] was shouting and angry with the Metro TV journalists. The next day Metro showed the TNI teaching “Indo Raya”⁵¹ to some children. Of course it was because of the pressure. It was really ridiculous for us to see. Metro TV was under lots of pressure.⁵²

A few days after Suwarya’s statement, TNI spokesman Major General Sjafrie Sjamsoeddin warned the media that the TNI would take legal measures against media establishments that ran unfounded reports on the military operation in Aceh. He also warned that “if reports over [alleged abuses] by TNI members could not be proven, TNI leadership would take legal action against the media,” adding that the government would also take legal action against media outlets that published “unfavorable” coverage about the operations in Aceh.⁵³

For instance, in response to press reports about the execution-style murder of civilians in the village of Mapa Mamplan, Sjamsoeddin announced that the military intended to sue the Indonesian newspaper Koran Tempo for running the story. He added that Agence France-Presse might also be sued for the same story. Sjamsoeddin told the Jakarta Post: “We will officially sue Koran Tempo newspaper because it must be held accountable for the headline ... Later development does not rule out the possibility of suing AFP.”⁵⁴

The military response to the allegations was to set up a joint military-press investigation into the incident, to verify whether or not the summary executions took place and who was responsible for it. Two soldiers and two journalists returned to the scene of the executions and undertook further investigations. After the investigation, the military concluded that all the villagers killed, including the three boys, were GAM spies.⁵⁵ Even if true, this would not justify the summary execution of the villagers. However, one journalist told Human Rights Watch that the investigation had not been impartial and that witnesses were intimidated into retracting their original testimony.

The journalist told Human Rights Watch:

On the killing of the seven people, witnesses gave different statements to the TNI, compared to what they had told AFP and Tempo before. The TNI chose the journalists [who would] go and do the investigation with them. They interviewed the villagers again, but in the presence of the TNI. The TNI forced the journalists to go with them. The next day the military went looking for the AFP witness. They found her and took her to the army headquarters in Lhokseumawe, and held a press conference in front of Bambang Dharmono and all the journalists to get her to clarify the AFP report that she was a witness. The woman said, “I am not an eyewitness, I was interviewed by AFP, but I said I only heard that people were shot, one by one.” Straight after that Tempo was criticized. The Tempo journalists in Lhokseumawe were then taken and interrogated for three days. They could not go out from morning to night. Shortly after that [name withheld] from Tempo went home, fed up.⁵⁶

The military is very sensitive about information of abuses being published. Negative reporting on the war may resonate with members of the Indonesian public who, although largely supportive of the military operation in Aceh, also retain a great deal of distrust at Indonesia’s corrupt and ill-disciplined armed forces. One foreign television correspondent based in Jakarta explained, “The military are very aware that what could break them is the press, for example if there is footage of atrocities. Sjafrie [Sjamsoeddin] now has a really important role in controlling what goes out.”⁵⁷

In May the New York-based Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) reported that military officials had issued warnings to the newspaper Serambi Indonesia and Metro TV for carrying reports considered favorable to GAM.⁵⁸

Citing pressure on editorial policy in Jakarta, one Indonesian TV reporter in Jakarta told Human Rights Watch:

[We had] some footage of civilians being ordered to leave their houses by the TNI, five or six soldiers, outside of Banda Aceh. The TNI asked them to take off their clothes and forced them to lie down on the ground. About six or seven people, all men. One of them looked really hurt, so someone else took his clothes to cover his body from the hot road. So one soldier started swearing “get up pig, do you want to be shot?” So the man was afraid and continued to lie on the hot street. SCTV restricted [us] from airing the dialogue. What the TNI is doing is counter-productive to their hearts and minds campaign. This is the reality of the war and only a small percentage is being shown. So, we just aired the footage, without sound. So the audience only saw the footage, no sound. After that, all footage we got from Aceh we had to confirm with the military before being aired. One of the producers would call the TNI, Brig. General Bambang Dharmono to ask him “can we air this footage?”⁵⁹

Another Indonesian television reporter in Jakarta told Human Rights Watch:

Metro TV is a 24-hour news channel, so its influence is very large. Whatever happens in Indonesia, we cover it. There are several people who have already become the “hands and feet” of the military. Whatever news there is about the military or the government, which is negative, is now censored. Always. It’s the culture of the press experience in Indonesia. In the Indonesian context a phone call protest from the military is not only a clarification, but is interpreted as a threat…During the New Order this was a common occurrence. During the reform period it had disappeared. But, now it has re-emerged again about Aceh, about whatever is reported about Aceh.⁶⁰

The Dandhy Case

On May 21, 2003, SCTV aired a special dialogue program featuring an interview with an Acehnese man who claimed that he had been tortured by the Indonesian military in the 1990s, during the last military emergency in Aceh, known as DOM (Daerah Operasi Militer, Military Operations Area). The producer of the program has since been fired by his station, leading to an uproar among Indonesian press associations and protests against SCTV.

The producer in question, Dandhy Dwi Laksono, told Human Rights Watch his story:

I arrived in Aceh three days after the military operations started, on May 21. The angle of the coverage was going to be on how to avoid civilian casualties. That was our editorial policy…So, we covered both sides by interviewing both the Pangdam⁶¹ [Endang Suwarya] and the victim. The victim’s interview was silhouetted, and he talked about his arrest and interrogation by the military only because he had an Acehnese I.D. card. He had been arrested in Medan. Arrested and then tortured. We took a shot of a bayonet wound in his leg, a close up…

The program aired at 23:00 on the 21^st of May on the SCTV news program…At midnight I got a phone call from Jakarta that a TNI general had not liked the program. I then got a forwarded SMS [text message]⁶² from a friend of mine, from one of the TNI Generals, which said “why did SCTV air the victim from DOM?” I also got a phone call from an anchor saying that SCTV was very stressed because the military had protested.

After the initial airing of the program, Dandhy continued to work at SCTV, despite the military protests. He says that he was subjected to unusual and unprecedented restrictions on all of his subsequent work.

On the 22^nd I returned to Jakarta. My direct boss, Nur Jamen, senior manager of news processing, cancelled my promotion to producer of special programs…Secondly, they then supervised my job. Normally the producer is the last man to make a decision. I was supervised by another producer. I had to get approval and re-editing by another producer, just on the Aceh programs. Before, this had never happened, I was an authorized producer. Thirdly, when I was in Aceh I had made some features about seniman jalanan ⁶³ who were writing about peace and how to avoid civilian casualties. I had not finished it but was in the middle of doing it. Nur Jamen told me to stop working on it. This was extremely unusual. He said it was not proper and that it would upset the military. He said to me “the bullet is still firing,”…So, every day they collected all my scripts about the TNI on all issues, not just on Aceh, every single script, they collected everything from before and concluded that I am an anti-TNI journalist. On June 13 they [SCTV] fired me. They said I was “spinning” the news about the TNI. I asked them why just my news on the military and not my news on corruption and other issues. I had a right to reply. [Eventually], they said that my arguments were good, I proved that I was not “spinning” the news. But I was still fired. My contract at SCTV finished on May 25, so they used that argument to fire me.⁶⁴

Dandhy’s case has been extensively publicized in Indonesia. Many in Indonesia believe that he was fired over his reporting on Aceh. SCTV denies the charges. Nur Jamen, told the press that “it was not a dismissal, Dandhy was never promoted to permanent employee. His six-month contract was not extended after we appraised him. It's nothing to do with his Aceh story.”⁶⁵