HS Dillon, a fearless campaigner

HS Dillon, a fearless campaigner

Joyeeta Dutta Ray, Contributor, Jakarta

In a country rife with corruption it takes a person of immense
courage to fight for justice without once giving in.

Dr. Harbrinderjit Singh Dillon is one such.

As Dr. H. S. Dillon sits at his desk, ready for yet another
interview with relaxed ease, he makes a remark. "This is the year
of the Rooster -- this is my year!"

Like the traits associated with his birth sign, there is an
element of vibrancy about him. His first words of welcome that
erupt forth naturally in Bahasa Indonesia put in perspective who
he really is: Dillon has the face of a debonair Indian Sikh, but
his soul belongs to Indonesia.

Dr. Dillon has been in the forefront of governmental
activities for more than two decades. He is the voice of the
peasants, a champion of human rights. He has also been a figure
of terror, primarily for the corrupt. His words spare no one.

Like a knife slicing through wood, he cuts through the story
of his life, nipping some along the way, carving out hope for
others. Whatever he may say, one thing is for sure: Few people
have his candor.

There is not much new anybody can add about Dr. Dillon. He is
well-known and much respected in political and social circles. On
the personal front, there may be some revelations. To understand
the persona and his ideals, it helps to go back a few centuries.

"My great grandfather was a farmer in Punjab, India, who
migrated to Medan decades back. Plantation runners were much in
demand by the Dutch in Indonesia then. But unlike in Malaysia,
where the bulk of plantation workers were Indians deported by the
British, here they were mostly locals," Dillon says.

One wonders if the Indian Sikh family, with their turbans,
were readily accepted in North Sumatra. Dr. Dillon's turns
wistful."In my entire career, I have been discriminated against
due to my turban just once when I was told that I could never
make a minister, coming from a minority.

"Indonesians are very warm people. There is no reason for them
to discriminate against Indians. Sikhs have been part of the
Indonesian fabric from way back. Even in my great-grandfather's
time they were a fairly large community of two to three thousand
people employed as mostly farmers."

The grand old man joined the workforce and went on to found
the Khalsa School for the people of his community.

By the time Dillon entered the world three generations later,
Sikhism meant less to him than his forefathers. Instead, he
prided himself on being an Indonesian.

Growing up in Medan, Dillon was exposed to the unfortunate
lives of the farmers at first hand. It made him understand the
importance of a strong agricultural economy.

As he puts it today, "Agriculture and agriculture-based
industrialization should be at the center of economic strategy.
When you enhance agricultural productivity, you increase
incomes".

However, the situation in the 1950s was a far cry from his
understanding today. The plight of farmers was characterized by
poverty and negligence.

The gross injustice struck a chord in Dillon. He wished to
empower himself with a voice to speak out against the injustice
but he identified at a very young age that to be heard one first
needed to be armed with the power of knowledge and money.

After his basic education in Medan, Dillon went on to Cornell
University, U.S. where he was offered a fellowship in
agricultural trade and development. He majored in international
trade and development and minored in resources, economy and
developmental sociology.

He flew back to Indonesia to serve as a researcher in the
Ministry of Agriculture, rising to assistant of the minister of
agriculture over the years.

For a man with a degree from Cornell, it was an unusual
decision to head back to Indonesia. Why did he do it? "Because I
am somebody here. There is an impact," he states simply.

So saying, he turned down a lucrative job for a lesser paying
one to realize his burning ambition. But rampant corruption at
every level made him a disillusioned man. Not one to take things
lying down, he spoke out against important officials in no
uncertain terms. The deed cost him his job in the state
bureaucracy.

Dr. Dillon opted for a free hand through consultancy
thereafter. After years of involvement in a variety of reputable
posts -- commissioner, National Commission on Human Rights;
member, Council for the National Economy (DEN) reporting to the
president; member, Joint Investigation Team (Anticorruption)
reporting to the Attorney General etc.

Today, Dillon sits as the Executive Director of the
Partnership for Governance Reform in Indonesia.

Interviewed and selected from over 500 candidates, this
position brings him much peace of mind. "This is the job of my
dreams. I am paid to do what I like doing best", he states.

Talking of donors, Dr. Dillon offers his views about tsunami-
stricken Aceh. "A lot of money has been generated for the tsunami
from here and abroad. I say don't give money, instead give water
purifying plans, pre-paid housing, etc. We are becoming nothing
but a clearing house for Aceh." he says.

Dr. Dillon goes on, "Aceh is full of injustice. If there is no
governance in Aceh, Indonesia is doomed. But I am always
optimistic. One must have asah (hope) -- asah untuk bangsa (hope
for the country). If we have hope, we can build a new Aceh. The
future of a new Indonesia is tied up with the future of a new
Aceh."

In Dillon's dictionary nothing is impossible. His statements
ring with earnest passion. His outspoken, often critical views
have made and broken his career. But he has no regrets. "I am a
proud man. I am grateful that I have been confident of speaking
out".

How is it living with a man of such immense ideals? His
Indonesian Muslim wife of 29 years is a perfect companion to the
man she married. With a sharp mind of her own to match his she
breaks in, "My husband is a Rooster, I am a Rabbit. We are six
signs apart -- a match that is quite a mismatch. We are at
loggerheads everyday. That is why we are together still", she
says with a smile.

Dillon explains, "My wife, Droupti, is a doctor, a
nutritionist. We are poles apart. It is said in Chinese astrology
that in a marriage when two people are this dissimilar, it is
bound to last. Once differences are mended, that is the end of
the relationship," he says, tongue in cheek.

Dillon is a father of three sons. It's a close-knit family
where the relationship thrives less on authority and more on
imbibing from each other. But one wonders whether they gravitate
towards any one religion, as is the case in most mixed marriages.
Dr. Dillon's answer is as forward-thinking as his views.

"I haven't raised my children as either Sikhs or Muslims. If
we are the bow and they the arrows, we should let them go as good
people," he answers.

Dillon is a prolific writer, an ardent speaker, an intent
listener, an optimistic believer. Most of all, he finally has the
power, expertise and the means to see his vision of a dynamic new
Indonesia through. There is only one concern. "The scarcest
commodity is time," he reflects.

He has nothing to fear. After all, the year belongs to him. As
for the future, there is always asah. Asah untuk bangsa!