Aceh's grief

ASIA
Indonesia

Jan 6th 2005 BANDA ACEH
From The Economist print edition

As more and more refugees arrive, the provincial capital tries to recover

ON THE streets of Banda Aceh, men and women are still wandering in shock. Many barely know where they are. Others just sit and sob, rocking gently from side to side.

Almost two weeks after the earthquake and the tsunami it triggered, the stench of death is slowly fading from the city at the centre of the devastation. Days of toil by thousands of Indonesian soldiers have removed the mountains of bloated corpses from the streets. What they cannot remove is the trauma of those who have survived. Indonesia has only a tiny number of people trained to give the sort of psychological counselling that might help. Tens of thousands of people, therefore, may suffer permanent mental harm.

Around 500,000 Acehnese are now wholly dependent on aid. Their homes have gone, and many have lost everything except the clothes they were wearing when the tsunami struck. Their province has been devastated. More than 1,150 schools, 5,800km (3,600 miles) of road and 490 bridges have been destroyed, and more than one-third of the 4,312 villages have no functioning government. Tens of thousands of refugees are now streaming along the western coast towards Banda Aceh like an army of ants. Many have walked for over a week, driven by their desperation to get to a place that is safe.

Unable to cope with the influx, the authorities have started to build semi-permanent camps, each able to accommodate 20,000 people. Water and food are gradually becoming more available in the city, though many traders have died and many shops have been destroyed. But in isolated districts, where the grim stench has not faded, help is only just arriving. The only lifeline has been a fleet of helicopters carrying essential supplies, including some from an American aircraft-carrier, the USS Abraham Lincoln.

Even when outside aid can get to Banda Aceh, it cannot always get much further. A shortage of vehicles is one problem, but a lack of inter-agency co-operation is a much greater obstacle. After decades of international vilification, Indonesia's army dislikes outsiders, particularly in Aceh, where it has been fighting the separatist Free Aceh Movement since 1976. This has translated into acts of seemingly deliberate procrastination and obstructionism, which are only just being ironed out by Indonesia's relief co-ordinator, Alwi Shihab, the senior welfare minister.

As a result of Mr Shihab's efforts, UN representatives are now allowed into co-ordination meetings. Tales of favouritism and military corruption, however, continue to come in from the field. The slew of visits to Indonesia by foreign dignitaries attending the aid summit on January 6th has caused yet more logistical overload.

Medical resources are woefully inadequate. People who survived lengthy buffeting in the fierce waters often need urgent care; but Banda Aceh's main hospital was flooded, and the other two surviving facilities are overwhelmed. For the moment, patients being brought in from the west coast have nowhere to get treatment.

There is no shortage of volunteers willing to help Aceh recover. Many, though, have no particular skills for the work that has to be done, and the challenge is enormous. “The task has become so big, it's a black hole,” says Dennis Heffernan, Mr Shihab's American adviser. “It will take all the energy everyone has, times ten.”

Copyright © 2005 The Economist Newspaper and The Economist Group. All rights reserved.