3. Lineamientos 1 Cobertura
3.4. Características de los apoyos (tipo y monto)
European visitors to Soroako at the turn of the century, commented on its larger size, relative to neighbouring villages in the area (Grubauer 1913, p.69). This was due to its favourable location on the shores of Lake Matano, which gave it an advantage both in food production and in inland trade. The indigenous Soroakans were well-known as blacksmiths, smelting iron ore and fashioning it into knives and agricultural implements. This small c o m m o d i t y production probably also contributed to the larger size of the village (see Chapter 5).
Until the latter part of the nineteenth century, the central region of Sulawesi had attracted little attention from Dutch colonialism, although the trade in jungle products such as d a m m a r resin and rattan (Allen and Donithorne 1954, pp.302-3) stimulated by Dutch mercantile activities, had drawn Bugis traders from the southwest peninsula to the region. The internal trade of central Sulawesi, especially the trade in iron, had apparently long attracted the rulers of the Bugis domain of Luwu (centred in Palopo) to the region around Lake Matano.
The Bugis form the numerically largest linguistic category in the southwestern peninsula of Sulawesi. They have long been known as seafarers and traders, and for their strenuous identification with Islam. They are what H. Geertz has called a 'centripetal society' constantly throwing off members who go in search of new economic opportunities (1963, p.69). They have had, since at least the 14th century, more elaborate, centralised forms of political organisation than the swidden cultivators of central Sulawesi. These political forms aided in their
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annexation o f / c e n t r a l Sulawesi. The expansion of Bugis influence in that region went hand in hand with the development of trade in jungle produce,
in the late nineteenth century.
The people of Soroako have little sense of the ways in which their own past relates to the wider history of either the region they inhabit, or the Indonesian nation. Nor has this remote locale figured prominently in the historical records of either the domain of Luwu, or of the Dutch. I have consulted the few available written sources which throw light on events in the region around Lake Matano, and fleshed them out with the oral history of the people themselves. This procedure has enabled me to describe the
d r a m a t i c events of the last 100 years. So the depth of the history is given by the extent of the oral and written sources. It should not be assumed t h a t this represents a baseline beyond which we can assume life in Soroako was static, unchanging or 'traditional'.^^^
With respect to their own history, the Soroakans have a truncated oral tradition. Many people had little or no memory of many of the events discussed below. However, in a profound way, their identity has been shaped by a sense of themselves as formed by past events. Soroakan identity in the 1970s was crucially concerned with ties to place, validated by a widely known story of the founding of the village. This was related to the strong ideology of indigenous Soroakans as people sharing common descent. Islam was another crucial element of contemporary sociocultural identity, as were the popular beliefs about the nature of the conversion. Finally, the Soroakan view of historical processes revealed their parochial mentality, their lack of understanding of the world beyond Lake Matano, This aspect of their relation to historical events is crucial in understanding their response to the mining project.
This chapter records the ways in which the Soroakans have become incor- porated into the domains of larger more powerful indigenous political entities, the expansion of mercantile trading networks into the region, the incorporation and establishment of direct colonial control in the early twentieth century, and events of the Indonesian struggle for independence. These processes have effected important changes in forms of production and production relations within Soroako. It becomes clear that these changes have been part of a generalised process of the incorporation of the village, the region, (indeed the whole archipelago), into a world economy in which capitalism is ultimately dominant. In this process, the villagers have lost control over certain productive processes which sustained their independence from extra-community economic relations. The development of the mining project can be seen as the culmination of this process of incorporation, rather than as a sudden and cataclysmic transformation of an isolated pre-capitalist society.
The story of the founding of the village
The story of the founding of Soroako on its contemporary site was an important s t a t e m e n t of the view the indigenous Soroakans had of them- selves and the way in which the Soroakan identity was formed from historical processes. Most people, including the young, could tell at least a truncated version of this story. Indeed it was often the only history they knew. It stressed the identification of the Soroakans with the current site of their village, and established this tie to place as a central feature of Soroakan identity, as expressed in the modern world. Also, although the Soroakan version of the story related only to the village itself, it contained elements which enable us to locate the village in supra-local historical processes.
The story begins when an enemy force conquers the ancestors of the contemporary Soroakans. Their village, then located at Hela'i (the area known as Old C a m p in the mining town), was burned to the ground. This unfortunate occurrence caused the people to abandon the old village site (see Map 3.1). A warleader (tadulako S.) named Tosalili set off in a boat, in order to seek a new site. He was accompanied by the Opu Bintao Wita (the Lord who left his land), the title (Opu B.) identifying him as an aristocrat from Luwu. The two men followed the lake shore until they reached the River Lawewu (in the centre of what is now Old Village). Their dog began barking at some bushes. The Opu pointed to a tree growing there and asked Tosalili, "Do you know the name of that tree?" Tosalili replied that he did not. "I know," said the Opu, " i t is called 'Serewako' (sic)." The dog then caught a deer in the bushes. "This is a good sign," said the Opu. "You should build your houses here." Tosalili agreed, but said that the Opu should build his house on that particular spot, and the rest of the population would build on the other bank of the river. The Opu planted a pole (in some versions ordered Tosalili to plant a pole) which is sometimes said to be the branch of the Serewako tree. In the 1970s people could indicate where the Serewako tree was growing, even describe it, but the tree no longer existed, nor could they identify a similar s p e c i m e n . N e v e r t h e l e s s all
Soroakans insisted that it was this tree which gave the village its name. According to the story, the survivors of the battle of Hela'i regrouped with people from the enemy force, to establish the new village. The current day residents of Soroako and Nuha are their descendants. Since then, four generations of their descendants have lived in Soroako and Nuha. The descendants of both Tosalili and the Opu Bintao Wita have had a special role in the history of the village, which will be discussed below.