Dewi settles in Japan as social critic

Dewi settles in Japan as social critic

Eric Talmadge, Associated Press, Tokyo

After securing a quiet nook in the lounge of a plush Tokyo hotel-
cum-meeting-place, Madame Dewi spreads out a portfolio of
personal photographs on the coffee table before her.

There she is with the Gorbachevs. With the actor Omar Sharif.
Yachting with the Kennedys. In one photo, she smiles brilliantly
between her late husband, Indonesian President Sukarno, and the
legendary Chinese communist Zhou Enlai. In another, she poses at
a royal palace with Cambodia's King Sihanouk.

Like Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis or perhaps Imelda Marcos,
Ratna Sari Dewi Sukarno is one of those rare people whose lives
are, well, larger than life. She knows everyone. She's been
everywhere.

And - to the chagrin of many - she loves to talk about it.

"I speak too directly," she says, her modest tone balanced
against pearls the size of gumballs that adorn her ears and ring
finger and a glittering golden butterfly that is pinned to the
lapel of her red Hanae Mori suit. "I can't speak diplomatically.
I think people are afraid of what I am going to say."

Even so, back in her native Japan after 40 years abroad, Dewi
has settled down into what may be her highest profile role yet -
as an outspoken, and often feared, social critic and television
personality.

In March, she will be hosting a concert for promising young
musicians at New York's Carnegie Hall, and in May she will be
publishing her seventh book, Invitation to the Society.

In a country where directly criticizing others in public is
frowned upon, Dewi is an unusually frank figure.

She dedicated whole chapters of her book, Allow Me to Say a
Few Things, published in 2000, to celebrities she deemed
deserving of scathing critiques. The tabloids and TV gossip shows
loved it. She soon had a sequel out and, always ready to slam-
dunk a well-known entertainer, she became a darling of the talk
show circuit.

"I left Japan when I was 19, so my mentality was still a very
classic Japanese mentality. When I came back to Japan I was so
angry," she said."The Japanese morality, education, the way
children think - it all made me so angry."

"I think millions of Japanese shared my views, but they were
too afraid to speak out."

But Dewi's appeal is more than just her sharp tongue - it is
equally the mystique of her life itself.

Dewi - which is short for "Essence of the Jewel," her maiden
name is Naoko Nemoto - wasn't born into high society.

Though she was raised in the poverty of post-World War II
Japan, she was living the lavish lifestyle of Indonesia's First
Lady by the time she was 20. She won the heart of the 57-year-old
Sukarno when he was passing through Japan in 1959 - she says they
met at a tea party - and she became his third wife just months
later.

Before long, however, her husband was fighting off a revolt.

"From 1966 to 1969, over one million people were killed, all
Sukarno followers," she said. "In those days I was sleeping in my
trousers every night and I counted how long it would take me to
jump out of the window in the palace and run across the garden
and climb the fence to escape."

Sukarno was overthrown in 1967, and died three years later.

Dewi, meanwhile, became an exile in Paris, where she soon
emerged as the toast of the international jet set.

"Parisian society loves exotic figures," she said. "I was
young, beautiful, I had a name, a certain wealth. People were so
eager to invite me here and there."

One highlight, she happily recalls, was a ball thrown by a
Bolivian tin magnate at his chateau in Portugal in which guests
were greeted by two elaborately decorated elephants. A red carpet
to the entrance was lined by black men wearing turbans and
dressed like Persian genies.

"Back then, people would spend a million dollars a night on
parties," she said. "But the whole world has changed. You cannot
show off your wealth like that anymore."

So, with the balls and high life becoming tiresome, Dewi
switched her attentions to raising her daughter, and then on
becoming a successful entrepreneur and philanthropist.

She went back to Jakarta only to find her old palace had been
confiscated - it's now a museum. So she found another place, put
her daughter in an Indonesian school and worked as an agent
representing major international corporations.

"It was very difficult to work there because I had to deal
with many of the government officials who used to work for us,"
she said. "The first lesson of business was to swallow my pride."

After 10 years, confident that her daughter had acquired an
identity as an Indonesian, she moved to New York, where, among
other things, she worked with the United Nations Environmental
Program and became the chairwoman of the Ibla Foundation, which
helps promote young classical musicians and vocalists.

Increasingly, she was sought out by the Japanese media for
interviews.

"There were so many that I was going back and forth between
the two countries, and I finally decided to move back to Japan,"
she said.

She admits there have been some odd moments in the three years
since.

Last year, she was embroiled in a highly publicized skirmish
with tax authorities over 130 million yen (US$1.1 million) in
income they claimed she failed to report. In July, she flew to
Jakarta to testify at the trial of local magazine editor charged
with assaulting her. The trial was part of an ongoing battle
between the two - he had been convicted of publishing racy photos
of her in 1998.

Meanwhile, her career as a celebrity continues to whiz ever
onward.

She's been filmed wrapped in towel to critique hot springs
resorts, and featured on a panel of celebrity "referees" who
watched troubled couples trade verbal attacks in a mock boxing
ring on one particularly bizarre - and short-lived - TV program.
She's even done commercials for cockroach spray.

"If you want to buy that kind of exposure on television, it
would cost you 150,000 dollars for a few seconds," she said,
admitting that she is a bit worried about her public image.

"But in a global way, I think it's a good idea to get the
exposure. Fame makes it easier to raise money for charity. Plus,
I have seven staff to support."