The road to recovery

For all the goodwill at the outset, contentious land purchases, graveyard and mosque relocations, bad weather and the sheer complexity of finding a new track for a quarter of the road all conspired to make it more of a challenge than anyone had imagined.

Indonesian government critics say the Americans also paid little attention to the post-conflict conditions in Aceh and as a result were not prepared for the Free Aceh Movement’s role in representing land-owners, including many who had died in the tragedy.

Then there was diplomatic complication. When the contract was signed in 2005, it was understood USAid would rebuild the entire highway between Banda Aceh and Meulaboh, where Singapore had been given the task of repairing the port. But the Japanese wanted to make their mark too, so with the careful intervention of Nias and Aceh Reconstruction Agency (BRR) head Kuntoro Mangkusubroto, they were assigned the final 80-kilometre section linking Meulaboh and Calang.

Much of the delay was due to the late start on the project and to the fact that the imperatives of getting something done in the months after the disaster led to planners setting unrealistic timetables and objectives.

When the US Army Corps of Engineers performed the initial assessment, there was talk of moving large parts of the road up to 3 kilometres from the sea, but that idea changed as the coastline slowly recovered some of its shape.

Even then, with a US engineering firm completing the final design in 2006, USAid still felt compelled to make at least four significant modifications to the plan, spending an extra US$100,000 a month to keep open parts of the old road as the only lifeline for isolated survivors.

The $280 million spent on the 150-kilometre stretch was part of a $430 million development package the US provided in the wake of Indonesia’s worst disaster, which claimed 170,000 lives and left total devastation in its wake.

Early on, buying land did not seem to be a problem. But owners soon forgot the horrors of the tsunami and began demanding more money. The governor was forced to intervene and set a standardised price as a reference point.

The Public Works Department may have signed the contract for what was classified as a national road, but with many of the National Land Office’s records washed away in the disaster it was happy to leave land disputes to the provincial authorities and the BRR to sort out. It turned into a Catch-22 situation. USAid, which is more used to providing technical assistance than overseeing major infrastructure projects like this, was unhappy with the lack of preparatory work.

Officials point out they could not proceed with acquiring what turned out to be four million sq m of land until they knew where the highway was going. When the momentum picked up, Kuntoro believes it actually went a lot quicker than it would have in other parts of Indonesia, where property is a politically-charged issue.

As it was, the original South Korean construction company was replaced by a more flexible Indonesian contractor, willing to leapfrog contested land and get on with other sections until the disputes had been resolved.

Thirteen bridges had to be rebuilt and by far the biggest was across the river at Lamno, a shattered enclave halfway down the coast. It took four years to complete and required the contractors to move equipment and supplies by ferry.

The Americans had to go the extra mile to ensure they did not put anyone offside. As one senior US official said: “We didn’t want to get into a situation where we were doing something that wasn’t entirely consultative. We wanted to do make an enduring contribution.” 

The road opening on may have been low-key, but as he puts it now: “It made me proud to be an American. This is what we should have had done because it was important to reopen the road and stimulate a whole part of Aceh," he says. "More than just providing relief assistance, it was the enormous cost-benefit involved."