A dubious accomplishment
Finally, after weeks of deliberation, Indonesia's legislature, the House of Representatives (DPR), approved on Thursday the controversial state security bill, despite the objections of thousands of critics and protesters across the country. It now only requires the signature of the President to turn the bill into a law -- a final procedure that many expect will be completed within days.
Looking back on the tumultuous events of the past few weeks that preceded approval of the law, one could ask what all the agitation was about. After all, every country, even the most democratic, has legal provisions to enable it to cope with threats that might endanger its security, or indeed its very existence. In such times of emergency, it is a matter of course that civil liberties must be curtailed for a period of time and inconveniences imposed on the public.
It is also true to say that the security bill is an improved version of the first draft, deviating in several significant ways from the original submission considered by the government. For one thing, although both versions empower the president to declare a state of emergency, in the final version it is mandatory for the chief executive to consult the legislature before this step is taken. This is an important step in the right direction, because it can prevent the president (or the military) from arbitrarily using the extra powers provided in such an emergency situation.
So why, then, the continuing opposition to the bill? One important reason is that there is a widely held perception that the new legislation was approved under pressure from the government, and the military in particular. For what purpose? Obviously in order for the authorities to deal with emergencies should the necessity arise. But under the current conditions, where the government's credibility is practically nil, and the track record of the Indonesian Military over the past 35 years or so is tarnished by incidents of harsh repression and human rights abuses, the public's suspicions are easily -- and perhaps justifiably -- aroused.
The question that befuddles most of the public is: Why were the authorities unable to wait a few more weeks until the new legislature was in place -- unless, of course, some ulterior motives were present? Given the far-reaching implications of the new law, and the serious civil rights issued that are involved, the question is a pertinent one. After all, who does the present House of Representatives actually represent? As the June 7 General Election has irrefutably shown, the Indonesian Democratic Party (PDI) faction in the current House represents only a few million people scattered in a few areas of Java. Even the majority Golkar faction was elected in polls that observers and former officials now openly admit were heavily rigged in Golkar's favor.
At this stage though, there is little point in dwelling on the proprieties that have been ignored. With the current legislature poised to go into its final recess, for now, there seems little need to fear that the momentum will be used by the Habibie government to reinforce its position, or by the military to re- entrench itself in Indonesian politics. The best thing that can be hoped for under the circumstances is that the new legislature, which will convene at the beginning of next month, will revise this controversial law, if not rescind it, and polish any points that need polishing to ensure that the process of democratic reform is not obstructed or derailed.