A tragic irony is currently unfolding in the heart of Papua’s tropical rainforest, the second-largest island in the world and one of the last bastions of our planet’s biodiversity. The documentary film “Pesta Babi: Salib Merah dan Perlawanan Rimba Papua“ (Pig Feast: Red Crosses and Resistance of Indigenous Papuans)[1] unveils the dark reality of what the Indonesian government claims as a National Strategic Project. Under the guise of food and energy security, approximately 2.5 million hectares of primary forest and customary lands are being unilaterally seized for conversion into oil palm plantations (for biodiesel), sugarcane plantations (for bioethanol), rice fields, and cattle ranches.
This colossal project, controlled by a handful of corporate conglomerates, triggers massive deforestation and marginalizes indigenous communities. Ironically, this extraction is heavily guarded by military operations, boasting an oppressive ratio of one soldier for every one hundred indigenous Papuans. The deployment of armed forces ensures the smooth operation of corporate extraction and suppresses grassroots resistance. In the face of this brutal technocratic ambition, the living spaces of indigenous communities, such as the Marind, Yei, Awyu, and Muyu, stand on the brink of extinction.
Cultural and Spiritual Resistance
Confronting this systematic threat that could erase their civilization, the indigenous peoples of Papua do not remain silent. They have launched a resistance deeply imbued with spiritual and ecological symbolism.
The Awyu community pioneered a resistance movement by planting 1,800 red crosses in their forests, sago groves, and sacred sites. These crosses are not merely devotional ornaments; they serve as a definitive customary boundary, synthesizing cultural and religious elements into a form of cultural “warfare” to reject the intrusion of oil palm corporations into their territories. For the Awyu, the cross becomes a medium to invoke the aid of God and their ancestors when state and corporate powers begin to usurp their right to life.
Elsewhere, the Muyu tribe prepares their defense through the tradition of Awon Atatbon, or the Pig Feast. At a glance, this may appear to be a standard cultural celebration, but the Pig Feast serves as a highly sophisticated instrument of ecosystem defense. This tradition requires a ten-year preparation period, during which the pigs used cannot be purchased; instead, they are given names and released to roam freely in the jungle. This prerequisite mandates that each clan strictly preserves their forest ecosystem, such as the Kimko clan, which safeguards 479 hectares of its forest, to ensure the pigs can survive and forage. This conserved forest subsequently protects the community’s primary food sources, such as sago, and fosters inter-clan solidarity to resist displacement caused by the expansion of bioethanol and biodiesel land projects.
Moral Theological Analysis: The Lens of Laudato Si’
For the Catholic moral theology community, the crisis in Papua transcends a localized agrarian conflict; it is a fundamental moral issue that echoes the profound warnings articulated by Pope Francis in the encyclical Laudato Si’. The reality in Papua exposes at least three primary structural and theological sins.
First, the dominance of a technocratic paradigm (LS 106 & 109). The food and energy projects in Papua manifest an extractive economic system that views nature merely as an energy-providing commodity intended for profit maximization. The global thirst for vehicular biofuels has blinded policymakers. They perceive the Papuan forest as “empty land” that can be mapped out from desks in Jakarta, ignoring the profound reality that this land constitutes a living space and a civilizational heritage.
Second, the destruction of integral ecology (LS 137). Pope Francis asserts that environmental and social crises are inextricably linked. In Papua, destroying nature equates to annihilating the civilization of indigenous communities. For the Awyu and Marind tribes, sago is not merely a source of carbohydrates; it is an ancestral symbol that sacrifices itself for the survival of its descendants. The eradication of sago swamps and forests in favor of oil palm and sugarcane constitutes a form of cultural genocide. As ecosystems collapse, indigenous peoples are deprived of their nutrition, cultural identity, and cosmological soul.
Third, the ignored prophetic cry of indigenous peoples (LS 146). The planting of the red crosses by the Awyu represents a radical applied eco-theology, a theological realization that land is granted by the Creator to be stewarded, not decimated. Concurrently, the Muyu tribe’s Pig Feast tradition offers a piercing critique of the avarice embedded in capitalist systems. This celebratory praxis exemplifies a sustainable model of living, wherein the ecosystem is meticulously cared for over decades to preserve the integrity of creation and the continuity of civilization.
A Call to Solidarity
The struggle of the Awyu, Muyu, and other indigenous communities in Papua is the cry of the earth groaning alongside the cry of the poor (LS 49). As moral theologians and members of the universal Church, we must not remain passive observers. We are called to dismantle these structures of socio-ecological sin and to actively stand in solidarity with the indigenous peoples of Papua, who are currently on the front lines, risking their lives to defend the lungs of the world. The Earth is our common home, and in Papua, that home is being brutally plundered.
—