Articles - Inside Indonesia: The peoples and cultures of Indonesia

No longer so 'special'

Keating's 'special' relationship with Jakarta was undemocratic. After East Timor, Howard is right not to rush back. Scott Burchill In the first weeks of September last year, 70% of all public buildings and private residences in East Timor were destroyed. TNI and their militia surrogates displaced at least 75% of the population. Between 500 and 2000 East Timorese were slaughtered. These statistics measure the denouement of 25 years of Indonesian state terror in occupied East Timor. They also indicate the scale of Canberra's greatest foreign policy failure since federation. At the very least, one might think that these grim statistics would prompt Australia's foreign policy elite and its adjunct the Jakarta lobby - to rethink an approach to diplomacy with Indonesia which has been so conspicuously discredited. Incredibly, this hasn't happened. Instead, those wanting a rapid return to business as usual with Jakarta are attempting to blame the Howard government for the collapse of the relationship. Within a month of Interfet's deployment in East Timor, which finally brought the killings to an end, the editor of The Australian believed it was time for Canberra 'to withdraw from the military leadership role' in East Timor, because 'an ongoing military presence by Australia could hinder the peace process by continuing to antagonise militia groups'. Fortunately for the people of East Timor, his request was ignored. The foreign editor of The Australian, Greg Sheridan, was also keen to 'make up' with Jakarta as soon as possible. Reflecting his employer's distaste for foreign policy driven by 'humanitarian and moralistic concerns' (Rupert Murdoch), Sheridan believed that the cause of the problem was Mr Howard's regrettable habit of listening to the views of his constituents: 'The government's worst statement was the prime minister saying in parliament recently that he wanted foreign policy to be in step with public opinion'. Veteran Indonesia analyst Bruce Grant also identified Mr Howard as the problem. According to Grant, the prime minister is seen as 'unsympathetic to cultures and aspirations other than his own', a character trait that apparently puts him sharply at odds with leaders in Beijing, Tokyo and Kuala Lumpur. Howard is 'suspect' in Asia because he is a monarchist, lacks 'an emotional commitment to the fortunes of the region', and loves cricket 'which does not help in Indonesia'. Grant doesn't explain the perils inherent in Indonesia's bilateral relations with other cricket-playing nations such as India, Pakistan and Sri Lanka, nor does he note the damage done to ties with Kuala Lumpur when Malaysia hosted a cricket tournament during the last Commonwealth Games. Cultural deference is clearly Grant's recommended strategy for engaging with Asia. The onus is on Australia, and only Australia, to change its ways. There is no suggestion of reciprocity from the region, even in the light of last year's horror in East Timor. According to ANU Indonesia specialist Harold Crouch, Mr Howard's response to the terror in East Timor last year, rather than the slaughter itself, 'was offensive to many Indonesians'. The prime minister has a limited cultural understanding of Australia's great northern neighbour and 'doesn't quite know how to convey things to Indonesians', he says - true enough as messages such as 'stop the killing' clearly fell on deaf ears in Jakarta last September. 'Provocative' Former diplomat Tony Kevin also worried about Australia's 'provocative' behaviour last year. 'Indonesian military and strategic elites will not quickly forgive or forget how Australian foreign policy cynically exploited their weak interim president in order to manoeuvre Indonesia into a no-win situation', says Kevin. If only John Howard stopped basking in 'jingoistic self-satisfaction over East Timor' and said sorry, bridges with Indonesia could be mended. More recently, professional Asianists have sought to engender a moral panic about the current state of Australia's relationships with the region by claiming that John Howard's intervention in East Timor is indicative of a broader rejection of regional engagement. What they really mean is that Howard is ignoring the specific rules of engagement that they have drafted for successive Australian governments. Even more disturbing, the coalition isn't seeking their wise counsel. According to his critics, Howard has disengaged Australia from the region, repudiating 'the Australia project in Asia' (Stephen Fitzgerald), painstakingly nurtured by every Australian prime minister since Whitlam. Emblematic of this has been the collapse of bilateral ties with Jakarta: 'Forty years of bipartisan effort to build up a relationship with Indonesia have been seriously eroded by recent events', argues Richard Woolcott, without detailing these 'events' or specifying the responsibility Jakarta bears for the downturn. 'The relationship has been destroyed?. Indonesians feel betrayed by Australia', laments Rawdon Dalrymple, who already looks back at the Suharto years with a nostalgia unlikely to be shared by the victims of the dictatorship: 'I fear we shall not see the like of him [Suharto] again'. According to leading Sinologist Stephen Fitzgerald, 'in the game of self-identifying regions' Australia must 'commit to and find acceptance in Asia'. Our 'fundamental problem is that while we may have come to mouth the sentiment of belonging to the region, we have done too little to belong in human terms or to make the necessary cultural and intellectual adjustment'. Under the old orthodoxy, Asia was seen as an exclusive club which Canberra must seek to join being left out would be 'a disaster for Australia'. Our need for belonging, however, brings with it obligations of membership which require us to alter our ethical and cultural outlook. The price of admission to the Asia club is never explicitly conceded, but by implication it includes the sublimation of our European political heritage, a less assertive commitment to universal human rights, and a greater sense of cultural deference to Asian sensitivities. But does Asia see itself this way, as a club? If not, should we? An alternative explanation for recent policy changes is that the Howard government is reflecting a popular unease with the rules of Asian engagement previously set by Australia's foreign policy elite though not the need for engagement per se. This discomfort dovetails with the prime minister's personal ambivalence about Asia, which is partly based on ignorance and partly on an exaggerated sense of the importance of cultural differences in international politics. Howard believes that the Keating government's style of Asian engagement was elitist and lacking in domestic popular support, hence it was ultimately driven underground. In 1995 both the intention to negotiate and the content of the Australia-Indonesia security agreement was withheld from the public until after it was signed an unusual departure from the concept of 'due process'. Howard is perhaps understating the need for government leadership in this area of public policy, but he has correctly identified a widening cleavage between elite and popular perceptions of how Australia should present itself to the region. Many Australians believe they can be equal partners in Asia without sacrificing their political or cultural identity: they merely ask to be accepted at face value. Differences between nations and cultures can be respected, they don't need to be resolved or dissolved. Convergence is unnecessary. Economic ties prompted by globalising forces, for example, are rarely dependent on shared values. Australia's most important bilateral trade relationship with Japan was formed at a time when anti-Japanese feelings in Australia were still potent from the Second World War. Many Australians would feel they have little to learn from the legal and political processes in most East Asian societies. New orthodoxy The outlines of a new orthodoxy about events in East Timor last year are becoming clear, at least as far as the Jakarta lobby is concerned. It's a strategic mix of inverted history and national self-flagellation. Despite the absence of any alternative regional responses to the slaughter, Canberra 'took too much ownership of the process' (Greg Sheridan), meaning the East Timorese should have been left to their awful fate. Indonesia has nothing to be sorry about and no reparations to pay. The Howard government, on the other hand, was 'meddling' (Richard Woolcott) in Indonesia's internal affairs, and has been engaged in 'gratuitous displays of jingoism' (Peter Hartcher), as well as 'triumphalism', 'neo-colonialism' and 'latent racism' (Richard Woolcott). According to this re-writing of history, Howard is primarily to blame for the cooling of the bilateral relationship between Canberra and Jakarta because he abandoned his predecessor's 'special relationship' with Indonesia and is personally uncomfortable with regional engagement. An alternative view is that the Howard Government has deliberately distanced itself from what it regards as the supine posture of its predecessor because it believes the public disliked the morally dubious relationship struck between the Keating government and the New Order regime specifically, and what it saw as an 'over-accommodation with Asia' more generally. When Canberra cashed the bilateral cheque last September it bounced, despite claims about the 'ballast' which Gareth Evans and Paul Keating allegedly infused into the relationship. For the Jakarta lobby, the bilateral relationship is refracted through the personalities of Howard and Wahid. Leaders' summits are more important than building democratic institutions. According to former diplomat Duncan Campbell, the lobby is 'making a ritual study of the entrails of Wahid's spasmodic performance divining how Javanese, and how much of an expression of Asian values it all is'. This is simply replacing the Suharto cult with the Wahid cult, a strategy which promises to repeat the mistakes of the past. Howard, however, is unimpressed with Wahid's unpredictable and erratic performance, and is unsure that he yet commands support across the spectrum of Javanese elite opinion. The prime minister sees no need for an urgent restoration of good relations and is prepared to wait to deal with Jakarta on his terms. In the meantime he would be well advised to offer tangible support to those nascent democratic institutions which will embed a more liberal political and civic culture in Indonesia. This is much more important than the atmospherics of leaders' meetings. Scott Burchill (burchill@deakin.edu.au) teaches international relations at Deakin University, Melbourne, Australia. Inside Indonesia 63: Jul - Sep 2000

Opening that dark page

Victims of the 1965-66 anti-communist mass murders are working to expose the truth. They face some determined opposition. Stanley The simple office sits in a cheap housing estate in Tangerang, 20 km west of Jakarta. On a tiny 250 square metre corner block, the house is not much to look at. Sulami is 74 years old and often sick. She and her younger sister rented this office in March 2000 to run the Research Institute for Victims of the '65-'66 Killings (Yayasan Penelitian Korban Pembunuhan 65-66, YPKP). They set up the institute on 7 April 1999 to collect information on the mass murders that claimed about two and a half million lives. Last March they visited the National Commission on Human Rights (Komnas HAM). They explained they wanted to work towards prosecuting those responsible for gross human rights violations against Indonesian Communist Party (PKI) members or alleged members in 1965-66. They were considering prosecuting the Suharto government. However, Komnas HAM said they could only offer limited support because rules restricting the movement of people once labeled 'communist' were still in effect. Supported by several non-government organisations, the YPKP committee became the first group to demand that a 1966 government decree banning the teaching and spreading of communism-Marxism/ Leninism (known as Tap no. XXV/MPRS/1966) be abolished. They first tried to meet with the speaker of parliament, but failed. Opposition A number of groups do not want the historical truth of the events around the 1 October 1965 Incident (when General Suharto took control of Jakarta and later of the country) exposed. An Islamic jihad group armed with swords recently visited President Gus Dur in his palace and expressed their anger because he wanted to abolish the 1966 decree on human rights grounds. Even some leaders of Nahdlatul Ulama, Gus Dur's own religious organisation, vented their anger at him when at a Friday prayer meeting he suddenly declared he wanted to say sorry to the 1965 victims and their families. Gus Dur confessed that many members of NU's own youth organisation Banser had become militia members who took part in the massacres. Muslim political parties within the loose Central Axis coalition had already begun to dislike Gus Dur's leadership when he showed a readiness to accommodate minority groups and open diplomatic relations with Israel. They seized on the proposal to abolish the 1966 anti-communist decree as a reason for building opposition to Gus Dur. Law and Legislation Minister Yusril Ihza Mahendra, who comes from the Crescent Star Party PBB, even felt called to express his disapproval of his president's idea openly at the party's congress in early April. He had to do this to avoid being beaten in the race for party president by hardliners such as Fadli Zon, Eggi Sudjana and Ahmad Sumargono. When Yusril vowed to resign from cabinet if Gus Dur pushed ahead with his proposal to abolish the decree, he was greeted with loud applause. The birth of YPKP and the unwonted appearance in public of several prominent leftists who had once been political prisoners, combined with the president's idea about the 1966 decree, made a lot of people fear the rebirth of the communist party PKI. Some parliamentarians even said the very survival of the state was at stake. Young people held some well-organised demonstrations opposing Gus Dur's idea in big cities in Sumatra, Java and Sulawesi. Some observers suspected that military officers with a grudge against Gus Dur were behind the actions. The most amazing thing is that the strongest opposition to Gus Dur's reconciliatory idea came from old nationalists like Ruslan Abdulgani, who said it would provide an opportunity for the PKI to regroup. In Sukarno's days, Ruslan was the spokesman for a political manifesto that put forward the idea of combining nationalist, religious and communist parties into a single front called Nasakom. Sulami, who was once secretary-general of the Indonesian Women's Movement (Gerwani), doesn't feel too anxious about these political developments. 'I believe President Gus Dur will push ahead with reformasi. Democratisation will go on. This will give millions of victims of the 1965 Incident a chance to discover the truth', she said. To this end Sulami and her colleagues, among them committee members outside Jakarta and a French researcher, are busy building a database of all the cruelties inflicted around the military-backed 1965 Incident. Despite a shortage of funds, YPKP is growing. Branches now exist in several cities in Java, Bali, West Sumatra, and North, Central and South Sulawesi. 'Of course many of our supporters are our own compatriots. Most of them were on Buru Island', Sulami said. Together with the human rights group Solidaritas Nusa Bangsa (NSB) and ably assisted by some young members of the People's Democratic Party PRD, YPKP on 5-15 April held a training session on the techniques necessary to investigate the 1965-66 killings. About a hundred people attended it. Initially the exercise was to be held in a Catholic retreat centre, but that failed when the proprietors found themselves being terrorised by military intelligence and several people who said they belonged to an Islamic group. These people threatened to burn down the place just as had been done to the (Protestant) Doulos Complex in Cipayung, East Jakarta, when they insisted on going ahead with hosting training for former PKI members. Hasan Raid, former member of the High Command to Retool Revolutionary Elements (Kotrar) and now an advisor to YPKP, said the appearance of YPKP had stimulated anxiety among some people that their crimes against humanity in the past would be exposed. 'People who talk about a PKI revival are actually telling us more about their own fears that the sins they committed against their fellow citizens under the protection of the 1966 decree will be revealed', said this old man, who spent thirteen years detained without trial in Nusakembangan jail and who is now a grandfather. Truth YPKP says its only interest in opening an investigation into the 1965 mass killings is to discover the truth. 'If the PKI is proven wrong, let it be wrong. I am only challenging the way punishment was meted out. It's just the killings that we are making an issue of', Sulami explained. YPKP intends to conduct an evaluation of its discoveries in December 2000. 'At that time we will decide if we have enough data to proceed to prosecution or not. If not, we will go on collecting more information that has been kept secret by the New Order powers all this time', Sulami went on. The idea of setting up YPKP arose from a simple humanitarian impulse. Between the Incident of 1 October 1965 and when the military arrested her in early 1967, Sulami had moved around freely for a year and a half. She heard a lot of stories about the military murdering civilians they suspected of communism, and even saw some herself. After her release she worked in the catering section of a detention centre. Bit by bit she saved the money she earned for the purpose of conducting an investigation into the murders. Her data gathering efforts became more intensive when she was asked to accompany several foreign researchers to some remote locations. She used these trips to add to her own data set. In June 1998 a television crew came from Australia to make a documentary on efforts to open a mass grave in Blora, East Java. Sulami became the main source for the film. It was later broadcast simultaneously in several countries on 30 September 1998. Among those who contacted her with messages of support were the novelist Pramoedya Ananta Toer, Hasan Raid, Kusalah Subagio Toer (Pramoedya's brother and formerly with Lekra), Sumini Martono (widow, formerly with Gerwani), Dr Ribka Tjiptaning and Haryo Sungkono. This eventually led to the establishment of YPKP Stanley is a journalist in Jakarta. Inside Indonesia 63: Jul - Sep 2000

Scenes from an occupation

Review: A lone Australian filmmaker records East Timor's history-making year of 1999 Carmela Baranowska In September 1999 I was among the last group of journalists to be evacuated from the UN compound in Dili. In the middle of East Timor's crisis we never knew what would happen next. As the Hercules aircraft took off from Dili airport we expected the worst - further genocide and international indifference. We were wrong - but East Timor's history in the last 24 years would hardly have led us to believe otherwise. By this stage I had spent four months in East Timor, filming day to day for my 67-minute documentary Scenes from an occupation, which was broadcast as two parts on SBS TV 'Dateline' in 1999. There were 600 journalists in East Timor during the referendum, but I was the only filmmaker to document the last six months of Indonesia's occupation. From the beginning in March 1999 I was adamant that interviewing Timorese 'after the fact' would be of little use. I planned to be in East Timor over a long period. I believed I could document reality 'as it happened'. I wanted to see and hear the Timorese speaking to one another, without the mediating influence of a Western expert whom the audience could recognise. If I missed an event there would be no re-enactment. After the massacre at Liquica in April 1999 my filming concentrated on reactions at the headquarters of the Council for National Timorese Resistance (CNRT) in Dili, specifically from the survivors who went there to give their eyewitness accounts of what took place. At that time there was no UN presence, nor any international observers in East Timor. Amazingly, the Australian government was still arguing publicly that the militias were not supported by the Indonesian military. Kosovo dominated world headlines. East Timor was largely forgotten. The massacres at Liquica and Dili in April 1999 have been overshadowed by what is usually referred to as 'the post-ballot violence'. As a filmmaker who documented both periods I would argue that the killings in April were a well-orchestrated dress rehearsal by the Indonesian military and their latest offspring - the militias. By late August there had been a predictable transformation in Dili's militia. They now wore personalised 'Aitarak' sweatshirts, provided by the TNI. They had also been joined by Kopassus soldiers - locals and journalists who knew them sighted them repeatedly in Dili's suburb of Becora, also wearing the 'Aitarak' logo. For the East Timorese the role of the Kopassus special forces in destabilising East Timor was hardly a new phenomenon. In taped addresses, sent out from house arrest in Jakarta and circulated throughout East Timor before the ballot, Xanana Gusmao reiterated their prominent historical role in orchestrating violence for their own advancement. Initially Australians showed only muted indifference to such allegations. However as 1999 progressed this gradually turned into a ready acceptance by the mainstream media and eventually even by the government. By the end of the year Australia's commercial Channel 9 network was referring to Indonesia's 'brutal occupation' of East Timor. Back in January, the ABC had still been politely referring to the territory's 'integration' into Indonesia. Any account of 1999 - whether documentary or written - can only ever be partial. But the mere presence of a video camera in 1999 helped render individuals and organisations as documented history, whereas the massacres at Mt Matebian in the late 1970s and Kraras in 1983 live on only as memory, song and oral history. As East Timor moves towards independence the Timorese have already begun to document their own histories for their own purposes. During this period of accounting it will be the East Timorese person who will sit opposite the Indonesian military general and ask 'Why?' Carmela Baranowska is a documentary filmmaker. 'Scenes from an occupation' is available for sale to individuals, schools, universities and community groups. Email for Australia/NZ admin@roninfilms.com.au, elsewhere viagemfilms@hotmail.com, web site www.roninfilms.com.au. Inside Indonesia 63: Jul - Sep 2000

Sulami explains why

An extract from Sulami's speech at YPKP's first anniversary "Indonesia at this moment, all Indonesians, feel that this country is moving towards something new. Something free from the darkness of oppression and exploitation, from the corruption, collusion and nepotism that was born out of absolute power, from the economic and political crisis that grew out of the greed of its leaders. No nation can move into the future with its feet chained to a historical burden, to those dark, traumatic moments that will forever haunt the national character in the future. That burden must be released. This nation must bravely face up to its fears, to the truth that lies behind the trauma. Only then can its character once more grow healthy and strong. This is no different to other nations who have had to leave behind a black page in their histories. They first of all needed to know what happened. So that their grandchildren will know, and not repeat the same mistakes committed by their forebears, not experience the same disaster over and over again. The South African nation, black and white, worked together to investigate, to dig out, to expose all the wrongs that they experienced together. The Cambodian nation have opened up all their records from their dark past, they have let their eyewitnesses speak so that those crimes against humanity should never be repeated. The Argentineans have done the same. West Germans have welcomed their East German brethren: communists at that! Many other nations have had the courage to face up to their dark past, to open up that bitter reality and then move ahead as nations that have become more democratic." Inside Indonesia 63: Jul - Sep 2000

The kampung bookshelf

An innovative idea to stimulate reading in the urban village Bambang Rustanto and Lea Jellinek A mobile library stands alone, forlorn beside kampungs without any people coming to it. The librarian leans against the door, tired waiting for people to come. The dust collects on the books. It is not that people do not know the library is full of books. It is because they do not want to read. Children grow up with stories based on the history of the place where they live, their ancestors, their religion and funny and dangerous characters. The stories their grandparents and parents tell describe an exciting journey through life - the ups and downs, the difficulties, the traumas they will have to face, and how to behave in polite society. It is a rural tradition based on most Indonesians' recent peasant origins. The wayang is part of this tradition. This should be the basis on which a reading culture is built. Indonesian children learn reading in a back-to-front way. First they are taught to read and only later to listen, see and experience. They do not get beyond phase one because the reading does not ring true. At school, creativity is not allowed. Children must follow the teacher. Answers are brief and by the book. Composition is not part of any Indonesian child's curriculum. The problem starts at home. With TV and radio, parents are losing their oral tradition. Those quiet moments in the morning and evenings or during the mid-afternoon siesta when people laze about and talk have been lost. Children are being told fewer stories. Schooling exhausts them. They grow up disliking learning. If the books a ten-year old carries are piled on top of each other, they are taller than the child. Yet hardly anything in those books remains in the child's mind because they are so full of shallow pieces of information. Even teachers find it hard to remember what is in them. Warung baca Our non-government organisation Kesuma has a kampung bookshelf system (Warung Baca) in Jakarta. Each community of 150 people (RT - rukun tetangga) will borrow about sixty books per month. One person can read three to five books or magazines a month. The sixty books/ magazines consist of approximately twenty children's books and stories, ten educational books, ten magazines, newspapers and children's magazines, and twenty books for teenagers and adults. A simple list records the name of each borrower, the date of borrowing and the return date when the book is due. Children and adults serve themselves from the community bookshelf without being surrounded by too many rules. They take the books home and read in their own time, their own way and the more relaxed environment of home. Bookshelf minders are all women. The community decides how these organiser(s) should be reimbursed and where the money will come from. Other payments may be used to buy new books, repair the bookshelf, help pay for the collection and distribution of books, or repair damaged books. Based on the Kesuma experience in Kemanggisan, Jakarta, the community is able to raise just Rp 3000 - 5000 per month. A contribution from the community creates responsibility and a sense of ownership. Since starting the program in October 1999, not one book has been damaged or lost in the seven bookshelves. Food and drink sales have expanded around the Kesuma kampung bookshelves as people drink and eat while they read. Children talk with one another about their learning difficulties. Once a month, the bookshelf organiser places all the books and magazines in a cardboard box and carts them to a neighbouring bookshelf, so the books are rotated between the seven bookshelves. A mobile library in a truck is unnecessary! The bookshelves are within five minutes walking distance of people's homes. The kampung bookshelf is for everybody - the young, the old, the middle-aged and teenagers. It satisfies people's varied needs. As the old and the young read together they encourage each other. The influence runs both ways. Lea Jellinek (leajell@ozemail.com.au) and Bambang Rustanto are freelance development consultants in Jakarta. Kesuma needs money to buy books and magazines. Anybody interested in supporting its work should contact Lea. Inside Indonesia 63: Jul - Sep 2000

The slow birth of democracy

Two years after Suharto, authoritarian values remain strong. But new groups are emerging to challenge them. Munir Suharto already looked vulnerable before the last New Order election in 1997, when riots broke out in various places. Then economic crisis followed, and the state fell into disarray. Kidnapping activists in early 1998 was merely the pinnacle of reaction by a disorganised state under increasing pressure. I was myself a target. We didn't have much choice but to try to stop the state from doing worse. I could not help feeling we were toppling a political order. The kidnapped activists were close to me - some disappeared after chatting with me in my office or at home. Many people volunteered to work for Kontras in early 1998 because it offered leadership for their desire to resist state violence. Not just students but nurses and doctors wanted to volunteer. We knew then change could no longer be delayed. But after Suharto fell, it was his corruption rather than his human rights crimes that became the centre of debate. Human rights cases became a kind of political commodity for the various civilian elites. They were used to gain concessions from the military. Corruption was different. There was no resistance from the military there. As a result anyone who wanted to be a democrat talked about corruption, even if they were Suharto's cronies. When President Abdurrahman Wahid wanted to abolish the decree banning communism (TAP MPRS 25/ 1966) he was greeted with a strong negative reaction from society itself. Yet it was that decree that turned the New Order into something authoritarian right at its beginning by aiming to control ideology. Many of these social elements now threaten to topple the president. That, to me, shows how strong the New Order still is, albeit with a civilian face. Gus Dur is such a contrast with the previous president. He's a religious teacher, a human rights activist, and a symbol of reconciliation. Indonesia today needs Gus Dur. As a democratic ideas person, he far exceeds any other political force in Indonesia. He is ready for democracy, but he is not as effective as he might be because he is surrounded by conservatives. Formally speaking, the New Order is finished. But it survives in many prominent individuals and in values. Everywhere we see people talking about reformasi but protecting the New Order. I don't think there is a single political party without New Order figures in it. The New Order vision remains strong within them through their views on ideology and on society. Many political elites remain fearful of worker and peasant movements, which they describe as anarchism. They deliberately avoided mentioning labour and land issues during the last election. The law, too, remains essentially New Order. Corruption is being dealt with using legal instruments that were never able to bring corruption to book during the New Order. Almost the entire civil bureaucracy remains under the control of old New Order forces. They treat all questions about the abuses of the past as an attack on themselves. A mutualism has emerged between the bureaucracy and Suharto to resist calls for accountability. The forces for renewal too are in confusion. Many of them have joined the new government. They are lost to the ongoing need to control the system. Many members of non-government organisations (NGOs) have joined the People's Consultative Assembly (MPR). Others have become party members. Intellectuals too have gone inside. This represents the loss of an enormous non-partisan resource that used to be available to push for change. What we have seen the past year does not make them look like a strong force for change from within either. Outside forces are still more effective. I think this is still a moment of crisis. New groups After the fall of Suharto many NGOs seemed to lose their sense of direction. They only had in mind toppling Suharto, so that when he was gone they were confused. But now we are seeing a new potential emerge. Throughout Indonesia, previously uninvolved teachers, workers, and journalists are creating a whole range of new institutions. These aim to fight corruption, resist violence, work for human rights. They call them Corruption Watch, Parliament Watch, Military Watch, and their numbers are extraordinary. We in Kontras have been overwhelmed by requests from the regions to help set them up. In these places people are completely new to political activism. Not just the New Order has died these last two years (even though it survives in some forms), but the pro-democracy forces experienced the same problem. They have become a part of the new political system, while intensive opposition promoting democratisation outside the system is exercised by these newer groups. The new groups have a much better perspective on democracy than those who just focused on Suharto. They are questioning an authoritarian bureaucracy. No one has ever thought of that before. They believe parliament needs to be supervised. That's new too. Parliament was always just an appendage to power. Then there is the military. Once it was the biggest taboo to criticise them. Now people even in the remote interior are openly setting up Military Watch organisations. There's one in Kalimantan, in Sulawesi, even in Madura. They're not good at media work yet. But they are quite well organised, and effective. They want to control the village military official (Babinsa) who tries to charge 'security' fees. They reject military interference in land conflicts or in the village head election. They may not make the papers but they are a real force. Unfortunately the human rights struggle is sometimes claimed by certain groups - religious or ethnic - rather than by the whole society. This is very worrying. Instead of seeing the crimes of the state as abuses of human rights, people see them merely as a struggle between certain political forces. They see the 1984 Tanjung Priok massacre, for example, as a religious struggle, and this view lets Suharto off the hook. The May 1998 violence is seen the same way. Worse, it becomes a bargaining chip. During the Indonesian East Timor inquiry of which I was a member, some portrayed the generals as belonging to one religious group and being 'scapegoated' by another. Military generals could no longer use their old political basis to protect themselves, so they began using religion and ethnicity. This is an enormous setback to the struggle for human rights. However, I have a child, a year and a half old. I hope he will live in a better Indonesia - more democratic, better able to feed its enormous population, and having civilised values. In twenty years time, I'm optimistic it can be achieved. This article was composed from an interview conducted with Munir by Gerry van Klinken on 16 May 2000. Contact Kontras by email: kontras@cbn.net.id. Inside Indonesia 63: Jul - Sep 2000

Wahid, IMF and the people

A young activist jailed under Suharto is stirring more opposition to Wahid too Nick Everett talks with Budiman Sujatmiko Budiman Sujatmiko chairs the Indonesian People's Democratic Party, PRD. He first became active in the movement for democracy in 1988, when he was a student at Yogyakarta's Gadjah Mada University. The New Order regime jailed him for more than three years. He was not released till December 1999, six weeks after Abdurrahman Wahid was elected president. Together with Avelino da Silva, secretary-general of the Timorese Socialist Party PST, Sujatmiko recently visited Australia on a speaking tour organised by Action in Solidarity with Indonesia and East Timor (Asiet). I caught up with Sujatmiko during his visit to Sydney on April 12. Wahid was elected in October 1999 amid mass protests against continued Golkar rule. His appointment continued a process of reform begun under B J Habibie. Acting under the growing pressure of a mass anti-dictatorship movement demanding 'reformasi total', the Habibie government had passed legislation for multi-party elections, reduced the armed forces representation in parliament, withdrew some of the most repressive labour laws, and instituted a UN-supervised referendum in East Timor. The Wahid government subsequently forced Golkar-appointed military commander General Wiranto out of cabinet, finished releasing political prisoners, and launched its own investigation into human rights abuses by the armed forces in East Timor last September. Australian and other Western governments have touted these reforms as proof of the new government's commitment to democracy. Sujatmiko and the PRD do not share this view. 'These are just the minimum criteria for democracy,' Sujatmiko explained. 'Freedom of speech, freedom of assembly these offer the chance for the majority to rule. But if those liberties do not actually result in majority rule, then we do not have democracy in the true sense.' Sujatmiko concedes that, unlike his predecessors Suharto and Habibie, 'Wahid is not a bureaucrat.' However, 'he has no policy to deliver better living standards or to end the threat of unemployment - his policies cannot deliver "people friendly" outcomes,' he said. Sujatmiko argues that this is most clearly demonstrated by Wahid's pursuit of an economic restructuring program imposed by the International Monetary Fund. 'If the policies dictated by the IMF are fully implemented in the next three years, the majority of the people will have to bear the burden of an increased cost of living, driving them under the poverty line,' he said. 'The 1997 economic crisis has already resulted in 37 million unemployed this figure will continue to rise if the IMF policies are implemented further.' IMF demands to restructure the economy have robbed Indonesia of its economic independence. Sujatmiko likens it to the experience of Latin American countries since the 1980s. 'Privatisation, financial liberalisation, deregulation of trade and investment, reduced state subsidies this is the same as the neo-liberal policies that have been pursued in Latin America.' 'Wahid has given a commitment to the IMF that he will cut state subsidies, resulting in higher petrol, electricity and transport prices and increased education fees,' says Sujatmiko. 'He has said that he has to do this to reduce dependency on foreign debt and the IMF.' However, opposition to price hikes refreshed the memory of mass demonstrations against similar hikes that brought down the Suharto dictatorship in 1998. It forced Wahid to delay the fuel price increase and the increase in civil service salaries. 'Wahid is playing between two poles,' notes Sujatmiko: 'the IMF and the people.' 'He wants to win sympathy from the people, but his concessions are still not enough. He has created anger by proposing to increase salaries for the first echelon bureaucracy by 2000%. What he has done is not based on a clear-cut vision,' states Sujatmiko. 'Objectively, the Wahid government remains loyal to the dictates of the IMF and of Western governments. Wahid is seeking to use his popular following to position himself to implement this austerity program.' No serious opposition is emerging to this economic program from the parties represented in Indonesia's newly elected parliament. 'The PRD is the only political party criticising this program,' Sujatmiko says, 'in unity with other democratic forces: the student movement and trade unions.' 'Workers and students have come to parliament to protest the cutting of subsidies, and teachers have mobilised in many centres in Indonesia demanding a 300% increase in their salaries. There has been unrest and social discontent. Bus drivers, taxi drivers and others have taken action against the increase in transport costs. This has given the people confidence: they can now act as political groups to put pressure on the government so that the government must listen to the people.' Growing opposition to the IMF's demands has strengthened the PRD's advocacy of an alternative economic program. 'We have already come to parliament and met with its members and presented our proposals,' Sujatmiko tells me. The PRD advocates: cancellation of the foreign debt, a progressive tax on high incomes, taxes on the sale of luxury goods, a reduced military budget, and expropriation of Suharto's assets (estimated to be worth US$16 billion) and those of corrupt bureaucrats and military businesses. 'One of these proposals has been accepted already taxes on luxury goods,' explained Sujatmiko. 'These measures are needed to create a fund that can maintain state subsidies for essential services.' On the prospects of a trial for Suharto, Sujatmiko says: 'There are protests by the student movement now almost every day in Indonesia. These actions have included attempts to occupy Suharto's house and demand that he face a "people's tribunal", because they have no confidence in the Indonesian justice system. A fair trial of Suharto and corrupt bureaucrats, as well as of generals responsible for human rights abuses, cannot possibly take place under the current justice system. Cleaning up the justice system is potentially a very radical thing. It cannot be achieved simply by replacing judges. The system itself needs to change.' On the possibility of an international tribunal to try the generals responsible for the violence in East Timor, Sujatmiko observes: 'The UN itself is not demanding an international tribunal, but is there any alternative? We support a campaign for an international tribunal because it has the potential not only to address past injustices but will draw attention to the political role of the armed forces in Indonesia. While the factions in parliament have agreed not to give seats to the armed forces in the next parliamentary term, the structural issue of the role of the military through the territorial command system is yet to be addressed.' Communism In recent weeks, a Wahid proposal to lift the 1966 ban on communism has stirred much public debate. Wahid now indicates he wants to un-ban communism while retaining a ban on the Indonesian Communist Party PKI. More than a million PKI members and sympathisers were killed following the Suharto regime's seizure of power in a military coup in October 1965. 'Wahid has issued a statement of apology to the PKI,' explained Sujatmiko. 'He has no phobia about any ideology, he gives permission for people to live with any faith or ideology in Indonesia he is liberal-minded. But both conservative Islamic forces and the military are opposed to this, including forces inside the cabinet such as the religious Crescent and Star Party PBB, and Amien Rais who chairs PAN, while Vice-President Megawati is silent on the issue. Opposition within Wahid's own cabinet has pressed him to concede to maintaining the ban on the PKI.' Sujatmiko notes that 'while the unbanning of communism would enable the distribution of Marxist literature - the Communist Manifesto, for example - the question of whether we would openly campaign for socialism is a tactical one. We need to give a socialist perspective, not as something that is attainable in the near future or programmatic in the short term, but as our longer-term objective. More immediately we must continue to campaign for "people's democracy", because this lays the basis for raising consciousness. We are defending ourselves as a leftist party with one goal: promoting popular-oriented democracy and socialism in the context of capitalism as it exists in Indonesia now.' Under the New Order, the PRD experienced severe repression. Its members were hunted down, jailed, kidnapped and killed. I asked Sujatmiko: 'What is it for you that commits you to remain a PRD activist, in what you describe as a "leftist party"?' 'Commitment,' he responded. 'It is not something that can be explained in a few words. It has to be explained in deeds. You have to look for the answer in practical experience.' 'Since the very beginning the PRD has been built on a solid theoretical, ideological base that is absent in Indonesia's non-government organisations or other political parties. Most other parties are built for running their chairperson for the presidency. We have been building the PRD in the context of the ongoing struggle of the mass movement, the people's movement. So for us the existence of the PRD does not depend on the objective political situation,' he explains. 'Democracy or not, we are still there.' 'We draw on the lessons of the past in Indonesia in revolutionary struggles against Dutch colonialism. We draw on the lessons of people's movements around the world: if you want something worthwhile you have to pay for it. You may have to go without, to live in prison, in order to win the bigger freedom for the people you want to defend. If you live in a society where exploitation is blatant, naked and very repressive, then your decision to fight for the greater liberty of all by reducing your own personal liberty is something logical and can be accepted not just by rational logic but by our own consciousness.' Nick Everett is a member of the Sydney committee of Asiet (email asiet@asiet.org.au, or visit www.asiet.org.au). Inside Indonesia 63: Jul - Sep 2000

Where is Wiji Thukul?

The dreadful silence of an outspoken poet Richard Curtis Wiji Thukul wrestled with the daily realities of poverty and violence. During the late New Order he was acknowledged as one of Indonesia's best poets, and he remains a standard bearer for radical grass roots democratic change. His celebrated catch cry, Hanya satu kata: Lawan!Peringatan (Warning, 1986). Striking workers and protesting students still use it. It seems incongruous that till recently little was done to investigate the mysterious disappearance two years ago of this important contributor to Indonesia's democratic movement. (There's only one word: Resist!) is taken from his poem. Living in Solo, Central Java, Wiji Thukul always identified first as a poor urban kampung resident who faced the same struggles as his neighbours: factory workers, street hawkers and scavengers. The son of a pedicab driver and with limited formal education, he worked as a day labourer before assisting his wife, Sipon, a tailor, working from home. They have a daughter, Wani, and a small son, Fajar Merah. When I first met them in 1993 they were subsisting on about AU$2 per day. Through the irony of bewilderment, Wiji Thukul's poem, An odd puzzle (1993, see box), articulates the frustration of working class families who struggle to obtain the most basic necessities. They work long hours, producing a myriad of products, most of which they can never afford. The poem evolved from an evening conversation at a roadside stall. Wiji Thukul's searing commitment to real change was not only uncomfortable for Suharto's New Order. The pro-democratic pretensions of many 'progressive' intelligentsia did not escape his sting. His larrikinism at an all-Java poets' convention held in Solo in 1993 shattered the sombre atmosphere of their aloof readings on human rights. He engaged his enthusiastic audience with 'Displacing the clever people' (1993 - see language insert elsewhere in this edition). Thukul was wary of many 'cultural activists', students or NGOs who, despite much rhetoric, were unwilling to engage with the marginalised. I remember a hilarious skit performed under Thukul's guidance by a group of local children to celebrate Independence Day in 1993. The children pretended to wash themselves in the public bath. They could never quite finish before someone pressed a buzzer informing them their time was up. Through play, music and theatre these children became critical observers of the social reality shaping their lives. Their parents were jailed for drinking, gambling or fighting, they were exploited as child labourers, a nearby dye factory dirtied their water, their homes were always flooding, they queued daily for the public amenities. Thukul, and a few who dared to associate with him, were under continual surveillance. In December 1995 he almost lost an eye after he was bashed while security forces broke up a large protest he helped organise with local textile workers. Around 1993-4 Thukul became affiliated with the PRD, a radical left-wing political party outlawed by the Suharto regime. Thukul headed the PRD's Peoples Art Network (Jakker). After the 27 July 1996 riot following the military-backed invasion of the PDI headquarters in Jakarta, the PRD were made scapegoats. Thukul went into hiding, as did other PRD leaders. Sipon and children met secretly with Thukul in December 1997, then lost contact with him. He was in contact with some of his friends up until April 1998. When I met Sipon again in February this year, she recounted that for about two years after Thukul vanished she lived a sleepless nightmare of not knowing his fate. Her family was constantly harassed. She secretly burnt many reference materials critical of the New Order, and buried some of Thukul's more important writings, before security personnel entered the house and stole what was left. The family was isolated and the children's workshop disbanded as neighbours stayed away. Sipon lived in constant fear that her children might be kidnapped to draw Thukul out. Though still deeply traumatised, Sipon has worked on courageously. She recently paid off a loan for a second, better sewing machine. Slowly winning back her neighbours, she has also recommenced the children's workshop. There have been several unconfirmed sightings of Thukul over the last two years in Jakarta, Kalimantan and East Java. It is doubtful he ever left Indonesia. But it is difficult to understand why he should remain in hiding. PRD leader Budiman Sudjatmiko has said he fears Thukul became the victim of a government purge. Sipon recently registered Thukul with Kontras, the Commission for Missing People and Victims of Violent Acts. Her determination attracted media attention. Two Yogyakarta groups, Taring Padi and FKRY, organised readings of his poetry and started a petition. They want Thukul's case raised as part of a full investigation into the 27 July incident. Richard Curtis (curtisr@spectrum.curtin.edu.au) teaches at Curtin University in Perth, Australia. More information on Thukul is in his PhD thesis 'People, poets, puppets' (Curtin University, 1997). Readers who know of Wiji Thukul's whereabouts should contact Richard. Inside Indonesia 63: Jul - Sep 2000

Muchtar Pakpahan interview

Terry Symonds interviews Muchtar Pakpahan How important are international links to you? Solidarity among the union movement is very important, whatever their own ideology. There are also a few Australian businesses in Indonesia, particularly in mining, so it is important that our unions fight together for solidarity. What was SBSI's stand on East Timor? My union and I myself were the first to fight for a referendum for East Timor - it was one reason Suharto put me in jail, as a 'subversive'. Before, I wanted East Timor to become one nation with us, but the people of East Timor decided to be free, and I honour their decision. For the future, I suppose the trade union role in Indonesia and Australia is to support our friends in East Timorese trade unions to build democracy, rule of law, justice and human rights in East Timor. What role did the SBSI play in Indonesia's democratisation? The SBSI was involved in bringing reformasi to Indonesia, and in electing the current president, Gus Dur. The role of the SBSI for the future is to support the government, as long as it still supports reformasi. How much change has there been for workers? It's not easy yet for us to organise. In Riau, two leaders of my union were sent to jail after striking to demand a wage increase. The police and FSPSI, the former government union, joined with the military to intimidate my members and send them to jail. Such cases are going on in a number of provinces. What do you think of the current Minister of Manpower? Bomer Pasaribu was involved in labour rights violations, particularly since 1985 when he became secretary-general of the FSPSI. Then as president of that union he twice was involved organising demonstrations to insist that the government punish me. When he became commissioner of Jamsostek, the company which administers social insurance for workers, the company was full of scandals. He 'marked up' the budget. He was corrupt, and the new attorney general is still investigating him. We would like international unions to insist that President Gus Dur replace Bomer Pasaribu, for the international good appearance of Indonesian workers. His is still the 'New Order' appearance. What is the future for the SBSI? First, we want to reform the labour laws produced by 32 years of New Order government. Now, there are no laws to protect workers - all the laws protect companies and the military. Second, we want many officials replaced, particularly in the military, police and the Department of Manpower. Third, we want to strengthen my union through education and training. By the end of 2001, we aim to have at least a million due-paying members. Finally, discrimination about race (Chinese and non-Chinese) and religion (Muslim and non-Muslim) is rising here. I believe that only the trade union movement can build real democracy, rule of law, human rights and anti discrimination. Inside Indonesia 63: Jul-Sep 2000

62: Aceh's pain-a future of war or peace?

Apr - Jun 2000 Politics and human rights Aceh's pain-a future of war or peace?A human tragedy is occuring in Aceh that can't be ignored - Gerry van Klinken From heroes to rebels Aceh: Jakarta's other colony? - Sylvia Tiwon Whither Aceh? Updating events in the troubled province - Ed Aspinall A widow's notes Yet another violent death in a small Acehnese village - Syarifah Mariati The structure of military abuses Lying or semantics? A need to understand military definitions - Doug Kammen More than meets the eye A close look at the new president - Greg Barton The Banyuwangi murders Examining the deaths of 100 black magic practitioners - Jason Brown George McT Kahin (1918-2000) Goodbye to America's foremost Indonesian scholar - Daniel S Lev Society and economy The new Timor Gap What will Australia do now? - Geoff McKee Women workers still exploited The publicity hasn't dramatically changed Nike's policies - Peter Hancock Environment The world is not (green) enough Trying to slow climate change - Agus P Sari Box - What is climate change? Agus P Sari Sinking carbon in Kalimantan CDM could help Indonesia's forests - Merrilyn Wasson Culture Semsar Siahaan - Hero into exile Where to now for the anti-Suharto artist? - Astri Wright Regulars Newsbriefs The net Bookshop Inside Indonesia 62: Apr-Jun 2000

No longer so 'special'

Opening that dark page

Scenes from an occupation

Sulami explains why

The kampung bookshelf

The slow birth of democracy

Wahid, IMF and the people

Where is Wiji Thukul?

Muchtar Pakpahan interview

62: Aceh's pain-a future of war or peace?

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