Syahnakri, a professional soldier<\/p>\n
Lela E. Madjiah, The Jakarta Post, Jakarta<\/p>\n
During a closed-door seminar on East Timor at Chatam House in
\nLondon in 1999, a senior editor of a leading Indonesian daily
\nasked what the hell was a two-one-star (??) Army general doing in
\nthat meeting?<\/p>\n
He was referring to Kiki Syahnakri, then deputy operations to
\nthe Army chief. Little did he, and for that matter, the public,
\nknow that Kiki was there not only because he served several tours
\nin East Timor and is fluent in Tetun, but is also
\nwell-known among pro-independence fighters, including Jose Ramos
\nHorta, who was a speaker at the seminar. The two chatted in Tetun
\nduring breakfast one morning, to the astonishment of the other
\nguests who thought, \"Weren't they enemies?\"<\/p>\n
Kiki was born in Karawang, West Java, on April 22, 1947. His
\nname made it to the front page in 1999, not only in local
\nnewspapers but also in the foreign print media, when he was
\nappointed commander of the commander of Pengusasa Darurat Militer
\n(the military emergency government) in East Timor.<\/p>\n
A 1971 graduate of the military academy in Magelang, Central
\nJava, Kiki served briefly (eight months) as military commander of
\nDili and was moved to the Army's headquarters following the
\nLiquisa incident in 1995.<\/p>\n
In November 1999 he was appointed commander of the Udayana
\nMilitary Command, overseeing East and West Nusa Tenggara and
\nBali. The following year he was appointed Army deputy chief until
\nhe retired on May 1 and handed over his post to the Army chief on
\nMay 3.<\/p>\n
He is married to Ratnaningsih and is blessed with two sons and
\na daughter.<\/p>\n
Question: Tell me, why did you join the military?<\/p>\n
Answer: I was brought up in the small town of Teluk Jambe in Karawang
\n(West Java). My village was a stronghold of the DI\/TII (Darul
\nIslam\/Tentara Islam Indonesia) rebellion and was therefore a
\ncenter of military operations.<\/p>\n
Troops from the Siliwangi Division were stationed there. I saw
\nthem every day and became interested in what they did; how, for
\nexample, they braved the rain to hunt down DI\/TII rebels. To be a
\nsoldier was my heart's desire and I joined the military to
\nfulfill a childhood dream, not just to find a job.<\/p>\n
Also, my father was close to TNI officers who came to my
\nvillage to lead the operations against DI\/TII, among them (G.H.)
\nMantik and Kharis Suhud. My father was already in his 50s then
\nand while he could no longer carry a weapon, he took part in
\nplanning operations. Our house became a headquarters for such
\nofficers as Kharis Suhud and Pak Mantik.<\/p>\n
Q: You were so close to Pak Mantik that you became like his
\nadopted son...<\/p>\n
A: My father died when I still in high school. When I graduated,
\nI took the test (for entrance to the military academy) in
\nMagelang but failed. They never told me why I failed. The
\nfollowing year I tried again, but only after I told my mother. I
\nthought may be I failed the first time because I didn't tell her
\nand she didn't give me her blessing. It turned out that she gave
\nme her full support, and the second time I passed.<\/p>\n
However, when I was in the first semester my mother died. It
\nwas Pak Mantik who took charge, maybe because he had emotional
\nties to my parents. I was an only child, you know. I was thrown
\nout of balance by my mother's death because if I went home to see
\nher for the last time, I would have missed school for more than
\nthree days and risked expulsion. Pak Mantik told me not to go
\nhome because I would have missed the funeral anyway, so I stayed
\nin Magelang.<\/p>\n
After this I became closer to Pak Mantik and his family. He
\nvisited me in Magelang three times to give me all the support
\nthat I needed, and to tell you the truth, I needed it badly. He
\ntold me, \"You are now a son to me, don't fail.\"<\/p>\n
Q: People consider you a soldier's soldier, a general who is
\nclose to the troops...<\/p>\n
A: Maybe it was because I spent most of my time in military
\noperations, and in a military operation soldiers are assets. We
\ncannot keep them at a distance. If we want to succeed, we must
\nmanage them well, and there is a difference between managing
\ngoods and managing people. Soldiers are not goods, they are
\npeople, and when they feel comfortable with us, they will do
\nanything we ask of them. I treated my troops as equals; we spent
\ntime together to have a smoke and discuss things. There was never
\nany fear of their overstepping the line because, despite our
\ncloseness, the troops understood the hierarchy.<\/p>\n
Q: You made the front pages when you were appointed commander of
\nthe military emergency government in East Timor in 1999. What
\nlessons did you learn during that impossible assignment?<\/p>\n
A: My experience as Panglima Darurat Militer commander convinced
\nme even more of the need to improve our troops' professionalism.
\nAny officer who spent most of his time in the field would know
\nthat compared with the Interfet (International Force for East
\nTimor), TNI troops were not professional. We don't even have to
\ncompare them with the Australian or New Zealand troops; even
\ncompared with fellow ASEAN troops, our troops are not
\nprofessional.<\/p>\n
During patrols, for example, Interfet troops were serious and
\nalways followed procedures in performing their tasks, at the same
\ntime maintaining alertness. TNI troops, on the other hand, looked
\nrelaxed, rifles slung over their shoulders. You can't patrol with
\na rifle slung over your shoulder. That speaks of recklessness.<\/p>\n
Q: What factor do you think was mainly responsible for East
\nTimor's separation from Indonesia?<\/p>\n
A: It was that lack of professionalism, particularly with regard
\nto character. Winning the hearts and minds of the people is key
\nin a guerrilla war, and we strayed from this guerrilla
\nphilosophy. That was why we lost East Timor.<\/p>\n
Q: What is your plan now that you are retired?<\/p>\n
A: If I am still needed in the government, I will feel honored to
\nserve. If not, I will continue my farming business (he has a
\nstrawberry plantation in Lembang, West Java -- Ed). I have also
\nreceived quite a few offers to join business groups, but I am
\nstill considering them.<\/p>\n
Q: Why farming?<\/p>\n
A: I spent most of my time as an officer sleeping in tall grass
\nrather than in a bed. Farming bring back that feeling; the peace,
\nthe tranquility. Besides, it's not bad money either. A greenhouse
\nmeasuring a thousand square meters can hold 7,800 strawberry
\nplants. Each plant can yield one kilogram of strawberries in
\nthree months. If a kilo is priced at Rp 25,000, or let's say Rp
\n20,000, that's more than Rp 150 million.<\/p>\n
But to tell you the truth, I am also interested in entering
\nbusiness. I learned a lot about business when as deputy chief I
\nwas tasked with revamping the Army's foundation. When I started,
\nI was completely ignorant, didn't even know such terms as audit,
\ndue diligence or RoI. Now, although I wouldn't say I'm an expert,
\nI am familiar with business matters and how to handle them.<\/p>",
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