Democracy seeds will grow and strengthen

Democracy seeds will grow and strengthen

By M. C. Ricklefs

MELBOURNE (JP): Will the Republic of Indonesia survive the
crisis which it has been suffering for the last two or three
years? The answer is obvious: yes and no.

Whatever the outcome of the crisis and the attempts to
overcome it, the Republic of Indonesia in, say, 2005 will not be
the same as it is now. So present structures, attitudes,
expectations and styles will not all survive in their present
form. But I believe that there will still be a Republic of
Indonesia for many years to come.

The challenges facing the nation are truly immense. They are
in large measure the fruit of the failure of successive
generations of leadership and the political-social-economic
systems which they introduced.

To gain a perspective on the present crisis, we can usefully
turn to the 1950s in Indonesia.

After the Revolution of 1945-1949, Indonesia failed to
establish a viable system of government which was responsive to
the will of the people.

The Indonesian national leadership was at that time largely
Dutch-educated, with very little experience in matters of
government. This was hardly surprising, given the fact that they
had grown up in a colonial environment which had, since the mid-
1920s, turned more conservative and opposed to the Indonesian
independence movement.

The foremost civilian leaders, people like Sukarno, Hatta and
Sjahrir, had been imprisoned by the Dutch. The Japanese had been
prepared to employ some of these leaders to their own ends during
World War II.

Towards the end of the war, as it became obvious to the
Japanese that they were going to be defeated, they encouraged
Indonesians to move towards independence as a way of frustrating
any attempt by the European colonizers to reestablish themselves
in Southeast Asia.

But nowhere in all of this experience did that first
generation of civilian Indonesian leaders have an opportunity to
develop practical measures for governing this vast archipelago.
Nor were the military leaders who emerged during the Revolution
any better equipped to create a modern state.

They were mostly at least ten years younger than the civilians
and most of them had limited education, which had been severely
disrupted by the Japanese occupation and the Revolution which
followed.

Their training had been as military men: accustomed to giving
and accepting orders, not to listening to and responding to the
will of the people. To be sure, their experience as guerrilla
fighters gave them valuable links to the masses, but the military
mind is rarely gifted with the view of leadership which sees it
as something which involves responsibility to the people. Among
these military men, but not the most prominent among them, was
Soeharto.

Nor were the Indonesian masses, in most areas, in a position
to demand responsive government from their new leaders.
Everywhere the only government people had experienced was an
authoritarian one: colonial occupation or Japanese military
government, with local employees and allies to enforce them.

There was no tradition of what we would recognize as a modern
democratic style of government. Given low levels of literacy,
limited communications and very uneven social, political and
economic development, it is not surprising that there did not
emerge any widespread popular movement for democratic and
responsive government.

The governing elite of the new nation, both the national-level
leaders and those at provincial, kabupaten and lower levels, were
prone to regarding ordinary Indonesians with a degree of
condescension and even contempt. The rakyat (people) were bodoh
(stupid) in the eyes of many elite Indonesians.

So in the 1950s Jakarta politics became a game of elites and
their clients. Winning government was only partly about policies:
it was also, in fact perhaps more, about money and patronage.

Compared to what was to follow, corruption was still at a low
level. Kami masih belajar (we were still learning) a good friend
once said to me about corruption in that period. So there was
less money around, and less going into the pockets of politicians
and their mates. But it was enough to contribute to a failure by
political leaders to recognize their responsibility to listen and
respond to the wishes of the rakyat.

The ostensibly democratic system of the 1950s foundered on its
failure to create democratic, responsive, responsible networks
which reached from the capital city to the towns, villages and
hamlets across the nation.

In most democratic systems, it is political parties which
perform this role of two-way bridge between the leadership and
the masses. But of all the Indonesian political parties of the
period 1950-1957, only the PKI (Indonesian Communist Party)
successfully built such bridges.

That was one of the reasons why it did unexpectedly well in
the national election of 1955 and the regional elections of 1957.
But this was not taken as a lesson by other political parties to
try to outdo the Communists in this respect.

Rather, it contributed to the view of other political leaders
that, if electoral politics was likely to deliver power to the
Communists, then it would probably be better to abandon electoral
politics.

Regional dissatisfaction with Jakarta meanwhile grew. There
were lots of reasons for this: the overvalued Rupiah which
discriminated against outer island exporters, religiously
inspired dislike of the more cosmopolitan lifestyles of Jakarta
politicos, inadequate attention to infrastructure in the islands
outside of Java and others.

Even before the Dutch conceded independence to Indonesia in
1949, the Darul Islam rebellion had broken out in West Java. The
Republik Maluku Selatan (South Moluccan Republic) rebellion
followed shortly after the end of the revolution.

The most serious challenge came from the resistance to Jakarta
in both Sulawesi and Sumatra which culminated in the Permesta and
PRRI rebellions of the late 1950s.

These were about how the whole nation should be governed. They
represented opposition to the authoritarian military-Sukarno
alliance which was by then emerging as the new shape of Jakarta
government, replacing the failed structures of liberal democracy.
These rebellions had covert outside support from several sources,
including some of Indonesia's close neighbors and the United
States of America.

It is worth recalling, thus, that in the 1950s Indonesia was
facing circumstances which were similar to those of today: an
attempt to create electoral democracy, economic difficulties,
regional dissent, failing political leadership, and outside
interference.

The differences, however, are also very important. Remember
that in the late 1950s communications were still limited,
newspapers and radio reached only a minority of Indonesians,
literacy was still low and there was no popular expectation that
government would act in the popular interest or knowledge of how
it might be required to do so.

And the idea of 'Indonesia' as a nation-state was still quite
a new one: the first generation to be born in the independent
state of Indonesia was just reaching voting age as electoral
democracy was collapsing in the late 1950s.

In fact, Indonesia was in greater danger of falling apart
territorially in the 1950s than it is today. And there were those
both within the country and outside it who would have welcomed
such a disintegration, for it would have undermined the
increasingly radical thrust of the Sukarno government.

In contemporary terminology, the structures of 'civil society'
were still very weak in the 1950s. And the international
environment was relatively hostile to a radicalizing Indonesia
under the leadership of Sukarno and the army.

But Indonesia did not fall apart. Instead, under Sukarno's
Guided Democracy (1959-1965) and then under Soeharto's New Order
(1966-1988) the nation entered a period when its infant democracy
was overthrown for totalitarian government -- moderated
principally by administrative incompetence and inefficiency which
preserved space for individual freedom to a greater degree than
might otherwise have been expected.

So where does Indonesia stand today? Regional dissatisfaction
is rampant. Accepting that East Timor was a special case doesn't
really help all that much to reassure many observers. After all,
Papua and Aceh are special, too, but in different ways. Papua was
not a part of Indonesia at the point of independence and only
came under Indonesian rule in the early 1960s. Historical and
cultural experiences there differ from those of the mainstream in
Indonesia.

And what of Aceh? There we see a bulwark of the Republic
during the Revolution. For forty years after the 1870s, Acehnese
had resisted colonial conquest -- the longest war of resistance
in colonial history anywhere in the world. Before the Japanese
could get there at the start of World War II, the Acehnese had
thrown the Dutch out themselves. Aceh was so committed to the
struggle for independence and had a history of resistance so
fierce that, once the Dutch had evacuated surrendered Japanese
troops from there at the end of the war, they did not even try to
reenter Aceh for the rest of the Revolution.

So is Acehnese secession from Indonesia really conceivable?
It is well to remember that when the Acehnese resisted outside
rulers (i.e. the colonial state) a hundred years ago, the
soldiers whom they fought were mostly other Indonesians:
Javanese, Ambonese, Bugis and so on.

Only a minority of the colonial forces were actually
Europeans. When the Acehnese resisted Jakarta in the 1950s, they
showed that their commitment was not unconditional; it was to a
particular vision of Indonesia, one which did not include the
style of government they perceived in Jakarta at that time. And
clearly the DOM (military operations area) policy of the New
Order for a decade from the late 1980s has deeply embittered
Acehnese.

By unleashing such military repression, Soeharto probably
succeeded in persuading many Acehnese that a deal with Jakarta,
such as that encapsulated in the Daerah Istimewa (Special
District) settlement of 1959, cannot be relied upon if there is a
change of government policy in Jakarta.

So the answer is: yes, Acehnese secession is conceivable, and
because of the history of Aceh it would have incalculable impacts
across the country. Unlike East Timor, and perhaps unlike Papua,
the loss of Aceh would call into question the very concept of
Indonesia. For that reason alone, it is unlikely that Jakarta
would accept such an outcome.

So the future for Aceh seems to be either (1) a political
settlement which allows Aceh the degree of autonomy which
Acehnese feel is necessary to allow them to preserve the values
they are prepared to fight and die for, or (2) chronic, draining,
long-term, bloody conflict.

Much depends upon leadership, but where is that to come from
in today's Indonesia?

Since the late 1950s Indonesians have been accustomed to a
presidency which determines the shape, style and even details of
national policy. No one can reasonably expect that today.

Although Abdurrahman's presidency has achieved some things, in
the light of Indonesia's vast problems, it has to be regarded on
balance as unsuccessful. Abdurrahman has, however, preserved one
particularly precious gift of reformasi: he has preserved
openness.

Under Sukarno or Soeharto one could be denounced, arrested or
worse for insulting the head of state. Now, Gus Dur makes it
clear that anyone can say what they like, even if he doesn't like
what they say. This is a precious right, not to be undervalued or
abused.

It is clear that Indonesia now lacks most of the structures of
authority which the nation has been accustomed to. It has a
failing presidency at its center. Its military and police are
unable to defend law and order; it is as well that an outside
attack on the nation is inconceivable, for it is equally
inconceivable that the military could even defend the nation.

Wiping out corruption from the judiciary has a very long way
to go. The bureaucracy functions only in part. And the nation is
about to enter the age of regional autonomy, with authority
devolving to levels of government which are only partly equipped
to manage it.

This means that what is called 'civil society' needs to
respond to the challenges facing the nation. This is both
promising and threatening. Civil society -- resting on
institutions and networks which mediate between government and
the people -- consists of dedicated people committed to the NGOs
and other voluntary groupings which are addressing many of the
nation's social issues. Here we see some wonderfully devoted,
principled people.

The development of literacy since the 1950s and the spread of
modern means of communication support the functioning of
voluntary networks and organizations. Horizontal communication is
greatly facilitated by the internet and handphone. It is now
virtually impossible for any government to control fully the
information received by its citizens, or their ability to
communicate with others.

Indonesia has been particularly fortunate to have an inspired,
educated student movement to lead the way at crucial junctures by
making effective use of these horizontal means of communication.
So what if they foul up the traffic on Jakarta's streets now and
then?

But there are other kinds of institutions and networks which
also mediate between government and the people, and which are
encouraged by present circumstances in Indonesia. These include
politically organized thugs, thieves, terrorists, extremists,
murderers, corruptors, frauds, drug-dealers, people-smugglers and
all the odious characters associated with organized crime.

We may be confident that, just as has proved true in the
former Soviet Union, so in Indonesia criminals, terrorists and
extremists will make good use of the opportunities offered by the
breakdown of law and order and the greater ease of horizontal
communications.

Soeharto's New Order kept criminals under control basically by
two policies. One was to employ, franchise and license them,
using them to the benefit of the regime. The other was to use
extrajudicial violence to eliminate them when they got out of
hand. Political or other extremists were jailed or murdered. With
the fall of the New Order fell also the centralized control of
violence which underlay such approaches.

Today's international environment is much more supportive of
Indonesia than it was in the 1950s. Despite suspicions of the
United States, Australia and the United Nations, in fact no
nation stands to benefit from a territorial break-up of
Indonesia.

And no nation would benefit from a failure of democracy in
Indonesia. The only conceivable source of support for
disintegration would be criminal networks, who will always profit
from loosening structures of authority.

The nation's greatest strength remains its nationalism. At
least three generations have grown up believing that Indonesia is
a nation which has the right to exist, and which has a rightful
claim upon their loyalty.

Soeharto's manipulation of nationalism to serve his, his
family's and his cronies' interests undoubtedly created cynicism
about Indonesian nationalism in many minds. Yet the concept still
claims the loyalty of many and inspires them to act in the
interest of the nation and its people.

When the nation comes through this time of troubles -- which
will be neither easy nor soon -- I believe it will be because of
the resilience of its society and the strength of its
nationalism.

In my view, there is a very strong prospect that the seeds of
democracy which have been planted so recently in Indonesia will
grow and strengthen. Widespread popular disappointment and
despair at the Abdurrahman presidency is not without its
benefits.

In a democratic country it is possible for dedicated citizens
to get on with the task of creating a better future without
presidential leadership. That is a valuable lesson, one which it
seems the President has been anxious for Indonesians to learn.

Professor M. C. Ricklefs is director of the Melbourne
Institute of Asian Languages and Societies, at the University of
Melbourne.