Tremblers can still be felt daily beneath the town of Banda Aceh, located on the northern tip of the tsunami-devastated Indonesian island of Sumatra. The aftershocks, which tend to last about 15 to 20 seconds and can happen at any time of the day, usually prompt local residents to glance fearfully and suspiciously toward the ocean. The destructive tsunami from Dec. 26 still has its grip on the survivors of the disaster; the once so familiar ocean has become a stranger for them. Yet now, over three weeks after the disastrous wave, new dangers from an old war seem to be cropping up. Local papers in the Sumatran towns of Medan and Lhokseumawe are reporting on the first shots fired since the tsunami disaster.

A police officer was reportedly murdered by members of the Free Aceh Movement, or GAM, in Sabang on the island of Weh, off the coast near Banda Aceh. In addition, distant artillery fire was heard two weeks ago south of Banda Aceh, prompting local residents to run from the shore in panic, believing that what they were hearing was the sound of incoming tsunami waves. Other cases have also been reported. Separatists, in some cases armed, are reportedly infiltrating refugee camps to divert portions of emergency assistance materials. Two members of GAM were reportedly shot in the northeastern Aceh district of Kecamatan Seuneddon when they opened fire on an Indonesian army unit from a rice field.

But how reliable are the reports of such incidents? Is it really possible that war is returning to Aceh while aid workers from all over the world battle to save the lives of thousands of flood victims?

One thing is clear: The Indonesian military is indicating that it is taking the reports seriously. Four-star general Endriartono Sutarto, the head of Indonesia's military, even felt the need to appear in person last Tuesday at a press briefing held to discuss the region's security situation.

Sutarto, a short, beefy man with a tinny voice, conducted the briefing in a low building at the Banda Aceh military airfield and reported on a series of what he referred to as insignificant incidents. Nevertheless, he instructed all aid workers not to stray beyond the immediate vicinity of Banda Aceh and, in particular, to avoid the more remote parts of Aceh, especially the mountains.

The warnings come as the relief effort in the Aceh region -- the province most heavily affected by the tsunami -- is in high gear. American Seahawk helicopters are almost constantly landing and taking off on rescue missions, while cargo planes from many different countries land at the airport every half hour to deliver their goods.

Disaster numerology

According to crisis management officials, 65,594 dead had been buried throughout the entire province of Aceh by last Tuesday, while an additional 4,000 corpses had been found but not yet buried. The rest of the numbers spewed at the confusing press conferences called by Indonesian officials aren't nearly as clear. One source mentions a figure of 391,887 refugees in Aceh. Another says there are only 34,000 homeless in the capital, Banda Aceh -- a number that is easily refuted merely by looking around the devastated city. The official figure of those missing, 53,000, also seems illusory. Perhaps it is true that some of the missing are survivors who have taken refuge with relatives in the countryside. However, a tour of the devastated portion of Banda Aceh provides ample evidence of where the bodies of most of the missing could be found; piles of rubble and destroyed houses stretch out in all directions.

It is the survivors in Aceh, however, who are most urgently in need of the foreign assistance being provided. But Sutarto doesn't like the foreign troops. He finds them threatening and, for him, they merely create confusion. For the most part, Sutarto attempts to ignore them, and doesn't even mention them once during his press conference. He does, however, announce a highly official-sounding offer to GAM rebels: If they agree to surrender their arms and discontinue all hostilities, they will be guaranteed exemption from punishment. They are welcome, Sutarto says, to participate in Aceh's reconstruction.

It won't be that easy. The effects of the tsunami may be immeasurable, but it certainly has not erased the memories of both the Indonesian military and the rebels. The emotional wounds left behind by the decades-long civil war, a conflict characterized by extremely dirty tactics on both sides, are still too deep for reconciliation. The Acehnese have also been too close to the independence they have been seeking for their military leaders to simply abandon this objective.

Even the offer to exempt the militants from punishment seems disingenuous. For years, the Indonesian media has been portraying the Acehnese rebels as terrorists who have jeopardized national unity. Despite the gravity of his voice, the general's offer announced last Tuesday, it seems, is not meant to be taken seriously. It's just another chess move in an old game, although no one is quite sure what the current status of that game is.

In a later interview, Sutarto says that the Indonesian army already has 40,000 troops stationed in Aceh, and that two-thirds are providing humanitarian aid while the remainder are "operating militarily." Sutarto perspires and raises his voice unnecessarily while speaking, and he insists that the army has now put an end to "all offensive conflict." He claims that the armed forces have only been assigned to protect international aid workers and "to maintain public security in the catastrophe region."

Sutarto's figures differ significantly from those cited in Jakarta last week by the head of the Indonesian military, Ryamizard Ryacudu. General Ryacudu, a celebrity in Indonesia, said that he had 30,000 troops stationed in Aceh, not 40,000, and that only one-third, not two-thirds, of these 30,000 troops are providing humanitarian assistance. According to Ryacudu, the army is not interested in hunting down separatists, but rather in building a peaceful Aceh.

But even his claims are likely not to be taken at face value. He is likely only interested in an Aceh minus the rebellious GAM. In other words, the Indonesian army's offers of peace could, in fact, be declarations of war.

The remote backcountry of Aceh

Those venturing beyond the boundaries of Banda Aceh quickly encounter wild backcountry. The mountains of northern Sumatra, where GAM has its base, form a horizon that stretches up into the Pusat Gayo range. Near the summit of 2,800-meter Mt. Bateekenbeue, the mountains are interspersed with bands of clouds, forming thunderstorms that eventually unload soft, warm rain showers into the valleys below.

The road into the mountains is lined with jungle villages of houses on stilts, places where life has barely changed as a result of the tsunami. Villagers say they been visited repeatedly by GAM rebels, who have now officially announced their desire for peace. In the past, the same rebels went to the villages to stock up on milk, eggs, meat and cash, with or without violence, and with or without threats. No one here openly supports GAM, nor does anyone openly oppose it. Being either an open supporter or opponent of GAM has been a highly risky proposition in Aceh for some time. Most ordinary people cannot remember a time when their lives were not a balancing act between the two fronts.

But gossip in these villages provides an indication of GAM's current state. It appears that the once heroic independence movement has finally been transformed into a splintered group that uses the methods of organized crime to support its struggling mountain camps. GAM rebels kidnap and kill, and they demand payment for "protection." Meanwhile, the rebels' raison d'etre -- freedom for Aceh -- seems to have been forgotten.

The tsunami has presented one more serious threat to the existence of GAM. The villages that once submitted to GAM's tactics of extortion and terror were horribly decimated by the tidal wave and, although the wave did not reach the separatists directly, it did wash away large sections of their material base. Indonesian generals, not surprisingly, immediately recognized that the rules of the game had changed and are now attempting to capitalize on this situation. Consider: Following Sutarto's appearance before the world press, civilian aid workers are now only permitted to travel in Aceh with an escort and after having registered in advance. The army has announced plans to transfer 12 battalions from throughout Indonesia to Aceh. And, the Indonesian government announced that foreign troops would only be allowed to remain in the country for three months. Does the army want to get rid of foreigners as quickly as possible so that it can once again act with impunity in the "operations region?" Are Sutarto and his cohorts planning a final offensive against GAM?

In this third week following the earthquake, Indonesian military trucks, each carrying 40 armed soldiers wearing combat gear, have been repeatedly appearing on all roads leading out of Banda Aceh. Although this is certainly no evidence of major troop movement, it's also inconsistent with the generals' rhetoric about making peace with the rebels. The trucks are driving toward the mountains. If these troops were here to provide assistance and bring about peace, they would be traveling in the opposite direction, downward toward the ocean and not upward into the hills.

The continuing tsunami misery

It would be a mistake to believe that Banda Aceh is gradually emerging from the worst of its troubles. After first having dealt with bodies lying in the open, volunteers and soldiers in the Indonesian military have only now begun recovering corpses hidden beneath wreckage. After several days of hot, humid, rainy weather, the cloud of decay hanging over the city is now more oppressive than ever. The navigable streets are lined with body bags waiting to be loaded onto dump trucks and then taken to mass graves southwest of the city.

Contrary to expectations, the catastrophe is not gradually coming to a close. In fact, it still has much of Aceh firmly in its grip and, despite the untiring efforts of relief workers from all over the world, it can only, it seems get worse. Injured victims of the tsunami with hopelessly infected wounds are still being found on roads and jungle paths all the way down the coast to Meulaboh. Urgent, last-minute amputations have become almost commonplace for surgeons working in field hospitals.

Jeffrey Davis, an American doctor specializing in emergency medicine, has already reported the first two cholera deaths in Pusclesmas Sibreh Hospital on the outskirts of Banda Aceh. He says that he is aware of four to five other cases of the disease. But epidemics, as likely as they are in light of Aceh's poor hygienic conditions, are just one among many potential dangers.

In the Kasdam Military Hospital in Banda Aceh, the only large hospital that remained intact, the victims lie in densely packed rows. Some are dying, while others have been saved, and they keep asking about their relatives, about members of their large, extended families.

Amin Kaneh is looking for his wife and three of his children. Mohammed Ali, his body emaciated and his lungs filled with mud, lies on an olive-green cot. His brothers say they are missing 38 relatives -- mothers, uncles, nephews, grandchildren. Basmi Lahami, a fisherman who was out to sea when the earthquake hit, later returned to land to find his father missing, his mother, his three children, his wife, his brothers. Almi Salmawate grabbed two of his sons when the massive wave came, only to lose them again in the swirling brew filled with bathtubs, mopeds, animal parts, trees and other human beings.

These are the stories of Aceh. Many survivors say they would rather be dead. Entire generations have been wiped out, as have entire professions, such as fishermen, sail makers and boat carpenters. 1,538 teachers died in Banda Aceh alone, representing almost the entire population of teachers in the city. Extended families disappeared, villages were swept away and entire wedding parties were drowned by the waves.