|
Cover
story From chaos to crisis in lush Indonesia
By RAYMOND A. SCHROTH
Jakarta, Indonesia
A perpetual sullen haze hangs over Jakarta (population 17 million)
-- a flat, 661 square kilometer formless spread of corporate headquarters,
luxury hotels, skyscrapers and slums.
The skyscrapers, only a few of which are architecturally
distinctive, are mostly banks, many of which are now defunct, and apartment
houses, many of which are empty.
Zip from the airport by night in an executive limo to the glitzy,
neon-lit circle around the Welcome Statue fountain, and if youre staying
at the Grand Hyatt Jakarta or the Hotel Indonesia you can get a sense of what
only a year or so ago economists described as the big Asian boom. It was the
boom that inspired speculation that Asian values, such as respect
for authority and family, had triggered an economic explosion that would make
this once remote corner of the map -- including Thailand, China, Japan and
Indonesia -- the center of the world.
Not so in the light of day. Your cab stops at a red light, and
boys hawking newspapers and street singers -- boys who cannot sing
and who strum mini-guitars they cannot play -- besiege the vehicle. A woman
carrying what looks like an almost-dead baby draped in her arm, its face
covered, begs at your car window. The numbers of street people -- beggars,
prostitutes, children selling items of junk -- has multiplied in recent months:
a fair measure of a population desperate to do anything to stay alive.
Since the week in May during which riots, burnings and a coalition
of the army, university students and the presidents own cabinet forced
77-year- old President Suharto to resign after 32 years of unquestioned power,
Indonesia has gone from chaos to crisis.
Next months are crucial
Within the next few months it could reform its economy, till now
controlled by the ex-president, his family and friends, and reinvent itself as
a true democracy. Or, consistent with the process by which Suharto took over
from Sukarno in 1965 -- following an aborted coup and a bloody purge of
suspected communists in which an estimated 500,000 people were killed -- it
could replace one military strong man with another. Or it will slip into chaos
again.
It is breakfast time, Tuesday, July 28, and I have been
more-or-less up since 3:45 a.m. -- awakened first by a rooster kept by Canisius
College (a junior and senior high school of over a thousand students); then, at
4:30 by the recorded call to prayer blasting over the rooftops from the mosque
next door and the Jesuit communitys black dog who joined the mullah in a
howling duet.
But now the courtyard is filled with the music of the Jesuit
communitys 21 exotic song birds, each in his or her cage. In one of the
schools two inner quadrangles, a gym master drives a formation of about
230 boys in white shirts and light blue pants through their morning
calisthenics. The boys are mostly Catholic, many of them sons of Jakartas
middle-class and government and business elite.
At the breakfast table, two -- sometimes three -- men huddle over
a stack of documents along with a serious woman who holds a cellular phone and
an intense, dark, slender young man with high cheek bones -- the visor of his
baseball cap shielding his sparkling eyes. They debate the wording on the
papers in front of them, oblivious to the others at table eating their bread
and cheese.
The thin mans beeper beeps. He gets up and huddles with his
phone and returns to the table. They have very little time and work as if the
fate of their nation depends on them.
It may. This slender man is Jesuit Fr. Ignatius Sandyawan Sumardi,
secretary of the Volunteers Team for Humanity, an activist human rights
organization, a hero to the Jakarta poor. In March he and his brother were
arrested and tried for harboring three fugitives wanted for their alleged
involvement in the riots following the July 27, 1996, government-engineered
takeover of the headquarters of the Indonesian Democratic Party. The party is
one of the three authorized Indonesian political parties and the only one that
dared to stand up -- futilely -- to the Suharto government and to speak for the
poor.
During the riots, five people were killed, 149 were injured and 23
are still missing. Though the court of three judges found the brothers guilty,
it exonerated them because Sandyawan, the court said, as a priest, was obliged
to care for these men in trouble.
Now, in the wake of the May riots, ecumenical human rights groups
have produced four investigative reports that purport to demonstrate that a
series of church burnings, the looting and torching of the ethnic Chinese shops
and department stores that killed 1,217 people, and the mass rapes, followed by
the public abuse and humiliation of over 100 Chinese women, were not random
acts of violence but were deliberately orchestrated -- very possibly from
within the military establishment.
The human rights story in Indonesia is a sordid one. According to
a study published by the Indonesian Christian Communications Forum, between
1945, when the Republic of Indonesia achieved independence from the Dutch, and
May 9 of this year, 463 Christian churches have been burned down, with the
largest concentration -- 194 churches destroyed and 20 clergymen killed --
within the past three years.
The pattern of destruction convinces the Communications Forum
authors that the burnings were planned. In the same vein, the Volunteer Team
for Humanity report spells out how during the riots groups of thugs, disguised
as students but wearing army boots, strangers to that part of town, arrived in
vans, attracted crowds by spreading rumors and burning tires, whipped up the
crowds into burning and looting Chinese-owned shops and malls, then broke into
Chinese homes where they raped and mutilated women.
This night, Sandyawan and his delegation will fly to Washington to
address the National Press Club on July 30 and the Human Rights Caucus of
Congress the next day, in an attempt to put the moral tragedy of the Indonesian
crisis before the American people.
Muslim political power
Next door to where I am living is the mosque-school-office
building that houses the headquarters of Muhammadiyah, Indonesias
second-largest Muslim organization. Its chairman, Amien Rais, a political
scientist, educated at Notre Dame and the University of Chicago who wants to be
the next president of Indonesia, is planning his next move. Rais was one of the
group, led by then Minister of Research and Technology B.J. Habibie, who
established the Indonesian Association of Muslim Intellectuals in 1990 as a
vehicle to represent modernist Muslim political aspirations. Rais is
repositioning himself in the wake of the recent riots and political upheaval.
Ironically, in a country that is over 80 percent Muslim, the
Muslim majority, particularly the vast underclass at the bottom of the feudal
pyramid, has long felt frozen out of the nations new wealth. Meanwhile,
the ethnic Chinese, many of them Christians, who have been excluded from
political life and government positions, have concentrated on business. Though
only 4 percent of the population, the ethnic Chinese control 70 percent of the
capital (not land) wealth, including the countrys food distribution
system. (The 70 percent figure, though widely repeated, has not been
statistically verified.)
Terrorizing the Chinese
The riots, which focused on terrorizing the Chinese, have had
their desired effect: They have driven thousands of Chinese out of the country.
The undesired effect: Theres no one with the skills to distribute what
food there is to a starving population.
Not everyone trusts Rais. His power base is a movement that seeks
to bring Islamic values into political life. And the possible
emergence of Islam as a political force, rather than a specifically cultural or
religious movement, prompted the widely respected Muslim intellectual,
Abdurrahman Wahid, to write a warning to Suharto, who had been cultivating
Islamic fundamentalists, that Indonesia was in danger of becoming another
Algeria. Wahid, popularly known as Gus Dur, is leader of Nahdlatul Ulama,
the largest Islamic organization. In 1991 Wahid and 44 leaders, including a
Catholic priest, founded the Democracy Forum to loosen the
political system, to prepare for some perhaps more democratic future. But
Suharto listens only to himself.
It may be that Indonesian Islam is more ecumenical, more
influenced by Buddhism and Hinduism than its Iranian and Middle Eastern
counterparts; but Im told that Islamic religious identity here is strong
enough to, under pressure, bubble over into a political movement that could
lead to an Islamic state. To offset this possibility, Wahid has launched a new
party, the National Awakening Party open to all -- including Christians and
Chinese -- to contest the general elections scheduled for next year.
Rais, who earlier in his career blamed the Chinese and Christians
for the nations woes, says he has changed. He says he favors a diverse,
multicultural society, not an Islamic state, and he is resigning as head of
Muhammadiyah to found another new political party, the National Mandate Party,
the latest of the 45 set up in the new open atmosphere that has followed
Suhartos fall. Then he will merge this new group with the old United
Development Party, the third of the original three -- including the Indonesian
Democratic Party and Golkar, the government mouthpiece -- approved by the
constitution.
A few blocks south, Megawati Sukarnoputri, daughter of former
president Sukarno, moral but not legal head of the fractured Indonesian
Democratic Party, nervously checks out the grounds of her estate. Tomorrow is
the second anniversary of the 1996 riots, which followed her expulsion from her
headquarters. Her Sukarno connection in itself would not seem a credential for
national leadership; yet she is enormously popular because the people see her
as someone who, like themselves, has been oppressed. Since the government will
not allow her to hold the anniversary rally in a public space, she will have it
at her home.
Thirty thousand of her followers will swarm over her grounds, and
9,000 police and troops will patrol her streets. Nothing must go wrong. They
will begin with prayers and poetry; then she will blast the armed forces
commander, Gen. Wiranto, the same one who finally forced Suharto to quit, for
not allowing her to stage her rally in a public stadium.
One afternoon, with a student, I visit the scenes of the worst May
rioting: Trisaki University, where four student demonstrators were shot;
Glodok, Jakartas Chinatown; and the huge Jatinegara Plaza, to the
southeast, where over 200 persons burned to death. At the university, most of
the students had already returned to the campus and were in the parking lot
when the fatal shots were fired from the highway overpass overlooking the
lot.
In the tapes I saw, troops fired into the fleeing youths
indiscriminately, without even taking aim. One soldier, passing a dead or dying
boy, deliberately kicked him in the head. In the Glodok we wander past
blackened hulks of stores and countless shattered glass facades, through the
public market, into the labyrinth of back streets to the 348-year-old Dharma
Jaya Temple. A monk shows us a Buddha in a glass case who is the
god who protects the business establishments in the area. I want to
ask whether he thinks the god is doing a good job.
What will happen to this country? If the arts give us a clue, the
future is bleak. At the Jakarta Playhouse, Teater Komas new play,
Constipation Opera, which opened last week, begins with a naked man
sitting on the toilet. To his alarm he discovers that his stool resembles that
of a goats rather than a human beings. Then, when he and the other
citizens of his village become constipated, they turn to an authoritarian
doctor to cure them. But, rather than help them, the doctor uses their sickness
to gain power over their lives. As the play ends, the people, bloated and
unable to excrete, begin to die. Thus, Indonesia today -- helpless, poisoned
from within.
Wednesday, July 29, on the seven-hour train ride from Jakarta
through Central Java to Javas cultural heart, the university city of
Yogyakarta, where I will participate in the Jesuit ordinations on St. Ignatius
Day, July 31, I cannot take my eyes off the spectacular countryside. Miles and
miles of rice paddies stretching to the horizon in flat, flooded fields or
terraced on hill and mountainside; little farm villages close to the railroad
tracks, some squalid and garbage strewn, others clean, landscaped, with
clusters of uniformed school girls laughing their way home; brick factories;
peanut fields and lush forests of palm trees with homes buried in the brush;
occasionally a solitary man or woman bathing naked in a mountain stream.
The vast majority are poor -- very, very poor; and I am
overwhelmed by the realization of how differently God -- fate, history, chance
-- treats us all. If I had been born the son of an Indonesian rice farmer
rather than a Trenton, N.J., journalist, rather than know the joys of
Beethovens Fidelio, of French bread and cheese and Bourdeau
wine, of the Brooklyn Bridge and Tolstoy, rather than teaching generations of
students and writing an article like this, Id be standing in a rice field
in mud up to my knees, not even looking up to see this train go by.
On the other hand, as a student told me, a few rice farmers manage
to send a son or daughter to college. Nevertheless, long-range economic reform
will have to include better land distribution, plus the return of the Chinese,
whom the new President Habibie has foolishly scorned, to distribute the food
available. A more radical restructuring of the economy that, free of bribery
and corruption, gives equal opportunity to all citizens, especially the non-
Chinese Indonesians, will have to follow the general elections, which will
choose the Peoples Consultative Assembly, which elects the president.
Who will be president?
Who the president is will depend on several factors. No one I
spoke to thought Habibie had either the skill or the trust to continue. If
history repeats itself, the general who removed the president, Wiranto, backed
by the military and perhaps Golkar, could assume power. If the democratic
process, for a change, gets a chance to work, Megawati Sukarnoputri may form a
coalition with either Rais or Wahid.
It is late afternoon, Aug. 2. The haze, which this morning made it
impossible to see much of the city from the top of the National Monument tower,
has lifted, and I look up from the balcony at a broad pattern of pre- sunset
blue. Though thousands of cars, cabs and motorcycles are roaring by outside the
gate, the only sounds back here are the chirble-chirble of the caged birds and
the irregular bam bam from the basketball court below where the boys play.
Thursday night in Yogyakarta, before the next mornings
ordination of five Indonesian Jesuits, I talked with Gabriel Possenti
Sindhunata, editor of the Jesuit intellectual bimonthly, Basis, and a
writer for Kompas, Indonesias most respected newspaper. More than
anything, he pointed to the terrible moral wound inflicted on the nation by the
burnings and the rapes. Gesturing at his guts, he said these crimes revealed an
awful evil in the nations innards that had to be confronted and
expelled.
Who was the Mister Big responsible for the
burnings and rapes? I asked. Most of the speculation centers on Lt. Gen.
Prabowo Subianto, at the time commander of the Army Strategic Reserves,
Suhartos son-in-law, who, the theory goes, used a mini-army of
paramilitary gangsters to foment a crisis that would thrust him into power.
Perhaps, said Sindhunata, if everyone is saying this, it might be true.
Wiranto, he said, was, among the military, the best of a bad lot -- but still
not good enough to become president. Megawati, because she has suffered, might
be the person to lead Indonesia through the next period of suffering it must
undergo.
But, again, he returned to the suffering inflicted on the Chinese.
We are to be democratic, he said. But we seem to need a
victim, a scapegoat, onto whom we can project our ills. Respect for justice is
the foundation of democracy; but we have this deep, deep problem -- this
aggression -- in our culture which must be overcome. The church, he said,
with its schools and influence, is in a strong position to help work for a
cure.
When he returns from the United States, Fr. Sandyawan, along with
the leaders of several human rights and nongovernmental organizations, will
join the commission established to investigate the May riots. If they can name
the persons responsible and if those persons are punished, at least part of
Indonesias poison will be purged, and there may be hope for a new
future.
Jesuit Fr. Raymond A. Schroth is assistant dean of Fordham
College.
National Catholic Reporter, August 28,
1998
|
|