Jakarta should learn from Manila's experiences

Jakarta should learn from Manila's experiences

W. Scott Thompson, Gianyar, Bali

There is often almost a sense of despair in the analyses of
Indonesian writers in these pages. Their country's corruption,
collusion and nepotism (KKN), traffic, pollution, terrorism,
sectarian violence -- you name it, it's been here in the past few
years -- at least in newspaper reports.

The country most like Indonesia, the Philippines, has had all
of the same problems, but it is surprising how little the two
countries try to learn from each other's experience. Both
sprawling multi-ethnic archipelagos of mostly Malay blood, they
both had long experience with rapacious leaderships who left a
terrible heritage of mismanagement and inequality.

Amazingly, both countries now are led by daughters of former
presidents -- both of whom lost power in the same year, almost
four decades ago.

But one thing the Philippines has had that Indonesia has not,
is a professional, competent managerial and incorruptible
president -- one who to boot was (and is) a self-taught
economist. Gen. Fidel V. Ramos was president 1992-1998, and was
limited -- and self-limited -- from further terms by a
constitution that was itself a reaction to the
unconstitutionality of Ferdinand Marcos.

But with or without a leader of Ramos's world-class leadership
capability, there are lessons from the Ramos presidency. One of
the first that comes to mind was his creation of "islands of
excellence." The point was that the problems overall seemed so
monumental as to be unsolvable -- and so dispiriting as to
discourage reform.

So why not take the very worst areas within the system of
governance and clean them up totally -- making them beacons, from
which "spill-over benefits" could come, as the economists would
say. The first one chosen was -- this should not surprise an
Indonesian -- the bureau of Customs, almost always the most
irredeemably corrupt arena for presidential cronies and political
hacks.

Ramos stunned even his own circle by appointing to the bureau
his very closest associate, the renowned and formidable Gen. Jose
Almonte, one of Asia's foremost political strategists -- but
also, as one of the key organizers of the People Power revolution
of 1986, a man of street smarts.

He then send Almonte a formal presidential letter, giving him
the full names of his wife and five daughters, with the
instructions that, were any of these to go to him for special
intercession at the bureau, he was not to come to him, the
president, but to "go to the police." At that point everyone in
Manila knew Ramos was what the French call homme serieux -- or
man of awesome seriousness.

Of course Almonte soon moved on to run Ramos's national
security establishment, but not until he had set in motion a
transparent system in which the steps required for customs
processing had been reduced nine-fold. A subsequent World Bank
report gave the customs bureau one of the highest marks in the
world.

It was all undone -- like so much else -- by the pitiful
presidency of the now-jailed successor, "Erap" Estrada. The
bureau became once again a place where the cronies imported their
slick merchandise duty-free and where the computer-driven system
was replaced by the old hands-on (and pocket-replenishing) system
of old.

But Filipinos came to see, and to believe, that reform was
possible, necessary, and inevitable. It became almost fashionable
for cabinet ministers to compare notes on how they had turned
down implicit or explicit bribes.

Ramos had taught them, in any case, that they had far more to
gain from an economically vibrant Philippines, and took most of
them on his several-dozen foreign trips: And these were not
pleasure junkets but highly-organized investment-search ventures,
in which the president held nightly reviews with his entourage to
see how much new money had been promised that day. The way to the
presidential heart was finding new investment -- which soared
during his presidency.

So reform occurred in virtually every area of Philippines
governance. Tax collection soared, land reform was essentially
completed, and infrastructural projects spread across the
archipelago. Exports in computer parts and other high-end
manufactures were growing sometimes by 45 percent a year. Small
wonder that it was the only large Southeast Asian economy that
didn't even briefly go under during the 1997 catastrophe. The
Philippines economy actually grew slightly in 1997 -- thanks to
shrewd and cautious management by the palace and department of
finance.

Of course the differences between these two countries are
substantial and no serious analyst would try to market identical
processes. For one thing, the economic crisis hit when Soeharto
was still in power -- but all but moribund. It has made recovery
so very much more difficult. And there never was the positive
effect of a "clean sweep" -- the picture of Ferdinand Marcos
climbing aboard a Huey helicopter into permanent exile, a
revolution from the streets removing all fear of lingering Marcos
influence.

But still, does anyone seriously believe Indonesia lacks
talented and competent reformers, capable -- if given the chance
-- of instituting the kind of reforms Ramos achieved in six years
in the Philippines? Does anyone believe that Filipinos are more
capable than Indonesians? Surely not. The question is not
competence or even experience. It is political will, and belief
that it is possible.

One huge difference between the two archipelagos is that
Indonesians as a whole are far more self-confident in their
nationalism and national identity than Filipinos. This alone
should make it easier to achieve here what the Philippines
managed to do so magnificently in six short years.

Dr. W. Scott Thompson, D. Phil. is Adjunct Professor of
International Politics, Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy,
Tufts University, Medford, MA. He is also former Assistant
Secretary of State in Washington and he is the author of a
forthcoming biography of Gen. Fidel V. Ramos.