In search of our national identity
In search of our national identity
By Johannes Nugroho
SURABAYA (JP): When asked why did he refuse to "denounce"
former president Soeharto and appear reluctant to delve into the
abdicated ruler's wealth President Habibie said "(because)...we
are Indonesians".
And it was only last month when Gen. Wiranto verbally
castigated the rioters, reminding all of us how "un-Indonesian"
anarchy was.
The list is endless.
Last year, Minister for Foreign Affairs Ali Alatas refuted the
western media labeling us as "undemocratic" by resorting to the
dogma of the "Indonesian democracy". The unliberated press of the
New Order was deemed to be the manifestation of "Indonesian
values". Even Dewi Sukarno's artistic nude pictures provoked
another "un-Indonesian" outrage.
Ironically, Indonesia's first president, Sukarno, after his
downfall, was much maligned in the New Order's version of
history. And in spite of the fervor of Wiranto's "un-Indonesian"
verdict, "anarchy" materialized in forms of rioting, looting,
raping, pillaging, burning and slaughtering by sections of the
Indonesian populace. Was Wiranto somehow trying to insinuate that
"foreign elements" were at work, perhaps a byproduct of
globalization? If so, which "foreign influence" did these
"copycats" imitate?
Wiranto's inability to come to terms with what his compatriots
have perpetrated is yet another inch in the Indonesian string of
public denials and scapegoating. Many of us still find it taxing
to carry out introspection and soul-searching, preferring the
easy solution of blaming others.
We waged a vituperative campaign against George Soros at the
beginning of the monetary crisis, heedless of the self-emanated
nature of the monetary vulnerability we were in. Almost without
warning, the Soros feeding frenzy evaporated, only to be replaced
by reprobation of the conglomerates.
Finally the blame shifted to the "Cendana" connection.
To complete the picture, Ali Alatas' cliched "Indonesian
democracy" is now condemned in the spirit of reformation. No one
came to the rescue the supposedly "Indonesian" virtues of the
manacled press of the last regime. On the contrary, sighs of
relief were ubiquitous in response to the apparently long-awaited
liberation of the press. What a transient being "Indonesian-ness"
is! Or is it simply overused propaganda jargon reacting to
change?
On the social front, Dewi Sukarno's "dare-to-bare" pictures
were considered an immoral misrepresentation of, as well as a
gross insult to, Indonesian women and their scruples. We appear
to have forgotten that religious female Balinese dancers were
originally topless.
Incongruously, numerous Indonesians console themselves by
assuming that "eastern" society is "more pious" in sexual matters
than the allegedly "degenerate" western society. Then how do we
account for the ever blooming industry of prostitution? It is
alleged that Bangkok cannot hold a candle in size to the infamous
Dolly complex in Surabaya.
Indonesia's cultural unease with sex and the naked flesh is
eternalized by the stringent censorship carried out by the
Minister of Information. Apparently 20th century Indonesians are
primitive in sexual matters compared to the 14th century
Majapahit people who incorporated the phallic symbol of lingga
and the symbol of the female genitals yoni in their public
temples. In some temples, reliefs of coitus, the ancient form of
what we now call pornography, have been discovered.
More perplexingly, contemporary Indonesians, who are allegedly
endowed with all the moral eastern virtues, are no less
lascivious than any other race in the world. Both statistics and
production houses can testify that the most saleable local movies
are those with a lame plot but crowded with scenes of copulation,
raunchily entitled, Forbidden Pleasures or Kept Man.
Meanwhile hotels and motels have been silent witnesses to
innumerable sexual sagas and extra-marital affairs, outstripping
the excitement of most soap operas.
If the government had been less hypocritical about stamping
out these moral compulsions, then the libido-bound movies would
never have existed at all, not to mention prostitution.
Presumably, the government has suspended its moral scruples in
favor of the revenues obtained through both censorship fees and
production taxes from artless productions.
In its feverish attempt at "upholding morality", the Ministry
of Information has cut out all offending scenes of kissing on
television. Kissing, an ancient human instinct of expressing
affection, is apparently to be seen as an abomination.
Alarmingly, scenes of extreme violence in action films are viewed
as "airable". The government would rather our children watch some
tough guy spilling out the contents of someone else's guts than
people kissing.
The Indonesian obsession with "keeping up appearances"
transcends far into every social pore imaginable. In today's
Indonesia, a male with long hair is seen as a rebel and he
potentially faces discrimination both at the workplace and in
society for his "not very eastern and non-conventional"
appearance. Even Sukarno himself once personally ordered the
police in the 1960's to arrest young long-haired Indonesian fans
of the Beatles.
Even in the 1990's the German-educated second son of then
Minister of Science and Technology Habibie had to nervously hide
his ponytail under a kopiah when participating in one of IPTN's
functions attended by the then president Soeharto. The message
was that a ponytailed citizen, even a competent one, could still
face discrimination from the highest office in the land, which
actually represents all Indonesians, a portion of whom are males
with long hair.
What most of us fail to see is that many of our past male
national heroes are portrayed as having long, even scruffy hair,
one of them being Sultan Hassanudin. The legendary Majapahit's
Gadjah Mada is often portrayed as a man who wears his hair in a
bun, while being topless and bejeweled, which perhaps makes
contemporary western-style-clad male Indonesians look extremely
boring in their prim and proper shirt and trousers.
Most Indonesians would presumably frown at a male turning up
for a function wearing the Irianese koteka (penis sheath),
perhaps even going as far as turning him out, and yet koteka is
part of our national costume.
It is baffling that the public and private faces of Indonesian
society should be so irreconcilable. What does it mean to be an
Indonesian? How do we define the Indonesian identity? Do we opt
for the late sewek-wrapped traditional Mrs. Tien Soeharto or the
PVC (plastic)-clad Krisdayanti?
In addition, why has the government been insistent on
manipulating the public image of our society? Thus far it has
been an ardent rule for the government to hyperbolically
highlight our achievements while playing down or even disowning
our failures. The oversensitive paranoia exhibited by the
government over contentions issues is symptomatic of the
underlying insecurity about the nation's identity.
It was only in 1928 that the youth of Indonesia declared the
one nation, one language pledge, subsequently consummated by the
Independence proclamation in 1945 before obtaining real
independence in 1949, following the signing of the Circular Table
Conference (KMB). Historically, Indonesia is a young nation,
comparatively younger than, say, Australia of which federation
came into being in 1901.
Burdened with the multicultural-lingual demographic
composition and the geographically sporadic isles, Indonesia is
faced with the constant struggle to define itself in the effort
to maintain its fragile national unity. It is therefore of
intrinsic importance that a uniform national image be generated.
The government, through its propaganda machines, has been
rigorous in campaigning for one singular, over-simplified and
strong representation of Indonesia, often disregarding minority
cultures inhabiting the archipelago.
Another essential factor in keeping separatism at bay is
national pride. The government has indeed been hammering on the
nationalism front tirelessly, exposing all the exploitable "good
news" about the nation while keeping the skeletons in the closet.
The state ideology Pancasila education is part of the
nationalism-building strategy.
Our press was expressly forbidden to inform the public how the
international community depicted Soeharto's New Order as a
military-dominated, despotic regime, or about the horrors of what
the western media refers to as the Santa Cruz Dili massacre and
the supposedly rampant and insatiable devouring of the people's
wealth by the former presidential family.
The older generation's Javanese principle of mikul dhuwur,
mendhem jero, a favorite quote of the last president, has lost
its weight as far as the younger Indonesians are concerned. The
fervent demand for an investigation into Soeharto's wealth is a
crystal-clear manifestation of the changing social attitudes.
The current Reformation Era will hopefully mark the beginning
of an Indonesian Renaissance as we march into the 21st century.
Indonesia, blessed with immense natural resources, has
undoubtedly awesome potential. We may be the world's fourth
largest nation and we may think of ourselves as a respectable and
civilized nation.
Irrefutably, a nation requires symbols of unity, identity and
pride with which the citizens can identify themselves. A nation
has the right to be proud of its achievements. Yet what makes a
nation great is partly its ability to come to terms with its
problems and prejudices, as well as mistakes. It is of no
consequence if we continue to be cradled by our complacency and
denials.
Our national identity no longer bears relevance to the archaic
stereotypical notions of what is "Indonesian" and what is "un-
Indonesian".
It is time that the government and society granted the
inhabitants of this archipelago the right to determine their own
individual identity. An identity uncorrupted by outdated social
mores and hypocrisy. An identity unadulterated with fabrications
and sociopolitical pretenses. A society free from discrimination,
stigmatization and intolerance.
The writer works at the International Language Program,
Surabaya.