Legal reform must overcome a history of authoritarian development
Agung Putri
With
the fall of Suharto in 1998, Indonesians began to turn to the nation’s
courts as a means of protecting their rights. Why would people hope
that the legal arm of the old authoritarian regime would offer them
succour?? Under Suharto, most people viewed the courts as a symbol of
the regime and its control over society. Judges exercised their power
systematically to remove basic freedoms and prevent access to justice
for the community.
An important motivation for the demands for
legal reform coming from ordinary Indonesians was the desire to punish
Suharto and his cronies for what they had done. The courts should be
somewhere to turn to. These demands were echoed by the nation’s
political and legal elites, although their aims were for more ambitious
reform of the justice system. But can reform of Indonesia’s justice
system overcome 60 years of distorted development?
Early history
The
struggle for an independent judiciary and an effective justice system
in Indonesia began before independence. Indonesia’s first judges,
trained in colonial times, were early advocates for an independent
judiciary. The desire to create an Indonesian state based on law
(rechstaat) was strong during the constitutional debates of the early
1950s. However, this important struggle was continually undermined by
the executive government – the president, the civil service and the
military.
Under Sukarno, failure was largely due to neglect.
The government’s focus on international politics left little room for
the development of an effective and independent judicial power. So when
Suharto gained power, many had high expectations for improvement.
At
first Suharto’s efforts were greeted positively. People saw signs of
rationality and modernisation of the legal system. The passage of Law
No. 14/1970 on judicial power, for example, was thought to provide a
sound foundation upon which to build legal institutions. Among other
things, it theoretically enshrined the independence of the judiciary
and prohibited government interference in court processes. Later, in
the mid 1980s, the government introduced protections of the rights of
defendants in the new Criminal Code and Criminal Procedures Code.
Control and manipulation
The
laws looked good on paper, and the rhetoric often sounded right. The
problem, however, was that these laws were implemented by a regime that
increasingly sought to control all aspects of society. Modernisation
became an instrument of government control and centralisation.
The
government unified and codified laws such as the Marriage Law in 1974
and the Village Governance Law in 1989. Most controversially, in 1985
parliament passed a package of five regulations concerning the conduct
of national politics. These regulations ensured elections, the
parliament itself, political parties and social organisations all
operated within a framework tightly controlled by the government.
Further,
with modernisation came the expansion of the formal bureaucracy into
more and more areas of life, including local justice and dispute
resolution. Progressively, local and traditional mechanisms of justice,
which people were accustomed to, were lost. The government stripped the
authority of local and tribal leaders and institutions such as the
Batak ‘raja ni hula-hula’ in North Sumatra, the ‘batin’ in Riau, the
‘raja’ in the Kei islands, Maluku, and many others. These were
converted into, at most, cultural institutions (lembaga adat) with
roles limited to giving advice to village government. In 1989, Ministry
of Home Affairs’ regulation took away traditional institutions’ control
over land and their role in mediating conflicts on land issues. This
authority was instead given to village heads, who were expected to make
decisions in line with central government policy.
More serious
was the Suharto government’s repression of political life. It banned
political parties and organisations, and arrested and killed their
leaders. It investigated individuals to ensure their beliefs and
political orientation was ‘suitable’ before they could get jobs as
public servants. It banned books, and broke up political meetings.
Arbitrary killing, kidnappings and rapes were common in conflict areas.
In this way, the regime implemented a kind of state terrorism.
Yet
in the face of this the courts systematically failed to provide
anything near a fair trial. People were often detained without being
given access to lawyers. While in detention, they were commonly treated
badly and even tortured. Lawyers were intimidated. Judges sometimes
awarded stronger sentences than those requested by prosecutors.
Judicial failure
In
practice, the Suharto government’s strategies for modernising and
rationalising the justice system did not promote independence of the
judiciary. While asserting judicial independence, Law No. 14/1970 had
also made judges government officials, administratively part of the
Department of Justice. This provision was exploited by the government
to secure judges’ loyalty and subservience. The courts distorted fair
process to suit government policy. Thus, even when local court
decisions went against government policy, the Supreme Court inevitably
turned the decision around in the government’s favour. Take, for
example, Henok Hebee Ohe, the Papuan who won his case against the
government in his indigenous land claim. Or the people of Kedung Ombo
in Central Java, who won their case to stop the government from
appropriating their land to build a dam. In both cases, the Supreme
Court found in the government’s favour on appeal.
Not
surprisingly, with courts and judges acting as part of the government,
they were given no power to review legislation or to examine human
rights violations by state officials. Power to conduct judicial review
of laws in relation to the Constitution is an essential constraint on
government power in most democracies. But such a power was never
granted under Suharto.
There were also many trials of political
activists and human rights defenders. From the start, with trials of
communist leaders in the 1960s, the courts invariably endorsed the
government’s self-serving interpretations of subversion and public
disturbance laws. Soon the same was happening in trials of Muslim
activists, Acehnese, Papuans, workers and student activists. For
example, Papuan leader Dr Thomas Wanggai was sentenced to 28 years
imprisonment in 1990; 25 Acehnese activists were sentenced in 1991 to
between eight and 17 years imprisonment; and between 1988 and 1990 a
number of student activists were sentenced to eight years imprisonment
for distributing novels banned by the Suharto government.
The
government also promoted non-judicial mechanisms to keep matters
outside judicial processes. Examples included the ‘Pancasila’
industrial relations mechanism to mediate disputes between workers and
employers, and national land institutions to solve land disputes. And
to further ensure control and repression of opposition, a ministerial
decree allowed military intervention in industrial disputes,
particularly in the event of worker demonstrations. This particular
‘non-judicial mechanism’ of injustice resulted in the infamous death
under torture of Marsinah, a female worker leader, at a local military
post in 1993.
Suharto’s legacy, then, was a system of law and
justice that had been designed to prop up the most authoritarian system
of government in the country’s history.
After Suharto
Since
Suharto’s resignation the parliament has made significant attempts to
reform the legal system. It repealed the anti-subversion law. It sought
to restore the power of the Supreme Court, established a Judicial
Commission to oversee the courts, and made judges subject to the
Supreme Court and not to government departments. It incorporated key
human rights provisions in the Constitution, authorised the National
Human Rights Commission (Komnas HAM) to conduct judicial
investigations, and established Human Rights Courts.
So have
the reforms made a difference? Have the people been encouraged to place
their trust in the courts and the justice system?
The truth is
that the community is again losing confidence in the justice system.
The people want Suharto and his cronies held to account. However, the
justice system still lacks the capacity to bring key state officials,
including Suharto and military officers, to justice for gross human
rights abuses. In the three major cases heard to date by the Human
Rights Court, those most responsible for the violence in East Timor
during the referendum, for the massacre at Tanjung Priok and in the
abuse and torture in Abepura, have all been acquitted and have even
been able to retain their senior positions in government and the
military.
Day to day realities haven’t changed either. Police
still arbitrarily shoot, beat and detain student activists, peasants
and workers. The courts still support the state apparatus as they did
previously, accepting without question its allegations against those
opposing the government or other powerful interests. In conflict areas
such as Aceh and Papua, military violence has continued.
Law
reform is a difficult and complicated process. There is confusion about
overlapping jurisdictions between courts, and many reform initiatives
lack coherence. Military and bureaucratic reforms lag even further
behind. These factors seriously impede the justice system’s ability to
protect people’s rights.
Yet despite the difficulties and
disappointed hopes, the Indonesian people know they have no
alternative. All recognise the courts are important. But there is much
still to be done before the average citizen can access justice.
Agung Putri (putri@elsam.or.id ) is the director of the Institute for Policy Research and Advocacy (ELSAM), Jakarta. ELSAM (www.elsam.or.id) is the premier human rights research organization in Indonesia.
Inside Indonesia 87: Jul-Sep 2006
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