A tragic year under Abdurrahman Wahid's rule

Political analyst J. Soedjati Djiwandono was one of those who rejoiced at the new presidential leadership last October, but who now feels compelled to give a brutally honest review of the presidency.

JAKARTA (JP): President Sukarno began to lose his credibility and authority in the eyes of his people after 20 years of his presidency, primarily because of his stubborn defense of the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI).

President Soeharto had to resign for basically failing to understand the mood and aspirations of his people after more than three decades of his rule.

Those were tragic moments for the nation, when a change of leadership was accompanied by a sudden burst of violence, before or after, at the cost of unaccountable loss of human lives. One might have thought then that the experience of the nation could never be worse.

I have begun to wonder, however, if this is not the most tragic phase of the life of this nation called Indonesia, if even the identity of the nation itself, the name "Indonesia", is questionable. A young man once asked me a question I have never been able, or had the courage, to answer: "Is it possible, that 'Indonesia' could soon be just a great name in history, just as we remember -- or so we have been told -- the great empires of Majapahit and Sriwijaya in centuries past?"

I shudder at the thought that the question may get a proper answer in the not too distant future. The thought that the name "Indonesia " is in real danger of just fading away has daunted and haunted the first year of Abdurrahman Wahid's presidency.

Indeed, as a nation, Indonesia has been through dark days for longer than I can remember. This time around, however, there does not seem to be even a dim light at the end of the tunnel. What could be worse than a moment, when a great nation cannot even think of having a leader?

That's the tragedy of this nation, ironically, just over a year of the reign of allegedly the most democratically elected president and vice president -- that is, at least by Indonesian standards set by a fundamentally defective and undemocratic constitution. And that is also the tragedy of President Abdurrahman "Gus Dur" Wahid.

I remember hailing the election of Gus Dur and Megawati Soekarnoputri as the best the nation could ever be blessed with in moral terms; the best for national unity; the best to avert further violence and to avoid what then looked like the imminent threat of a civil war.

What tragic contradictions we are witnessing now, however, just over the short span of a year: violence has not subsided, if not escalated; the nation is in greater danger of disintegrating, and thus national unity is ever more remote; bickering among politicians has continued unabated, and so has the tug-of-war between the presidency and the legislatures, consisting of supposedly representatives of the people; corruption and money politics have seemingly taken on an unashamedly crude and less sophisticated form, no longer in the more subtle deals under the table but in the style of cash and carry. And for the common people? Life is harder, more painful, ever more uncertain, and more scary.

The President's loss of sight did not seem to matter much at the beginning. "He may be blind, but he sees more than many," one writer said about President Gus Dur. Now it seems to be his main handicap. How does he judge people, their characters and their performance? After all, he cannot always rely on those he knows or used to know well.

Indeed, his presence, remarks and statements among minority groups -- be it in racial, ethnic or religious terms -- still create a cool, refreshing and assuring atmosphere. But his remarks and statements on some other no less important aspects are often shockingly contradictory, confusing, inconsistent and frighteningly enigmatic.

The most tragic of all, what used to be the main strength of the President, his moral integrity, and thus the basis of his credibility and authority, seems to have deteriorated. His strength has turned into his vulnerability.

He also seems to be increasingly obstinate, self-opinionated and over-confident. One can only wonder, who has the ears of the blind President?

This is the tragedy the nation is now facing: We have no alternative. But can we continue to support him, not only because of his deterioration -- the President is perhaps seriously sick, quite apart from his blindness with all its implications -- particularly in the light of the continued and single-minded attacks by his political opponents with the single aim: to unseat him.

If the President is genuinely concerned with the interests of the nation as a whole rather than over his possible reelection for a second term, and if he should honestly feel unable or incapable of completing his term, he should resign at his own free will. He would be a proven grand statesman.

Otherwise, he is likely to be increasingly vulnerable to efforts to ease him out of office, while it seems doubtful if his staunch and blind supporters would be ready to accept such a defeat. What would ensue would be a foregone conclusion: further social conflicts, or even a civil war.

Indeed, given Gus Dur's resignation, we would still be faced with a no less complex question. I would not dare to attempt to answer the question right now, whether or not Vice President Megawati would be ready and well equipped to take over. That would require a separate and probably lengthy analysis or speculation. It would be no less complicated.

This review may sound brutal. But truth is often bitter. As such, it hurts, and it hurts mercilessly. Whatever the case may be, the cost would be the continued suffering of the majority of the people. Would the President and the rest of the politicians ever think of that?