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.