JP/20/AZAS

JP/20/AZAS

Azas Tigor fights for just cause

Emmy Fitri The Jakarta Post Jakarta

Don't expect Azas Tigor Nainggolan to apologize because he won't.

As an ordinary human being, does he ever make a mistake in his personal judgment? "My mistakes are I am easily infuriated and foolhardy enough to speak out."

Activist-cum-lawyer Tigor, as he is affectionately known, has become widely known among the Jakarta public and the city administration's bigwigs for his strident opinions on rampant corruption, injustice and poverty in the capital.

Don't miscast him, though, as a fierce and stern activist leader because his voice is loud, but not in a hostile way. Tigor is easily moved to raucous laughter.

He has sent letters requesting constructive dialog to Jakarta Governor Sutiyoso many times because Tigor "can't stand to see how he manages this city." None have been responded to, though.

"I also can't stand to see other people suffering. Or street kids trying to earn a pittance in heavy downpours or scorching heat. Such scenes just tear my heart apart," he said, shaking his head.

His tender heart, however, functions as a powerful motivational force inside him that ignited his deep involvement in the fight against outrageous measures perpetrated by the state and even fellow activists on the people.

Tigor and his group FAKTA (Jakarta Residents Forum), which was founded in 1996, stand up for residents whose homes are bulldozed and set ablaze by Jakarta administration civilian security personnel, and for banned becak (pedicab) drivers, evicted street traders and many others.

"I started with street kids in the late 1980s. I was asked to help the Jakarta Social Institute (ISJ, a research and non- governmental group working on social issues, particularly street kids)," he recalls.

However, long before that he also took part in a series of campaigns and street rallies to publicize the fate of Cipanas farmers whose land was arbitrarily claimed by the family of former president Soeharto.

"I was jailed and underwent the usual criminal questioning at the Jakarta Police Headquarters for staging a rally. Worse still, the final test on my thesis was disrupted because they apparently went to my lecturers and the university rector to ask them to 'educate' me."

"Yet I haven't stopped, even though I've had different options open to me. I don't know what runs in my blood. It's true that if I stop for a while and think, this job of mine seems really frustrating," says Tigor, who graduated from the University of Indonesia, majoring international affairs and once dreamed of being a diplomat.

"The evicted, banned and unlucky people give us strength. They know we help them and fight for them. That boosts their spirit and therefore it would be a shame if we, who have many privileges and luxuries, did nothing for them," Tigor said.

What makes him tick, though?

Tigor, father of two sons -- Ignatius Stephanus Manogi and Yoseph Madeliano, was born in Medan, North Sumatra, 39 years ago. He was blessed with an egalitarian upbringing. His parents are both moderate, open-minded teachers.

"As the eldest in the family, I was treated the same as my other siblings. We traded arguments -- not of the quarrelsome type -- if needed, and that was done to gain a better understanding of what we thought," he says.

Another privilege is that he was "lucky" to have lived in a kampong neighborhood in his younger days in Matraman, East Jakarta.

"I learned a lot from kampong people. They have a great sense of solidarity and respect for social values and there are strong humanitarian links between them," says Tigor who is married to Tiarlin Apridawati.

Recently Tigor and his group FAKTA (the Jakarta Residents Forum) kicked off a morality movement, known as a social contract, to be signed up to by councillors. The contract is a form of pledge signed by the councillors for not accepting any amplop (envelopes), a term for bribe money.

Inspired by Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Tigor said although only a few councillors were willing to sign up to it, he believed strongly that one day more people would press for a contract agreed to by councillors.

Smirks, smirks: He knows that some do that for lack of an understanding of what he is doing.

"It's an attempt worth trying. I dream that Jakarta, this big kampong, will be more like an ancient Greek city where people could participate and watch and were involved directly in the way government ran their administration," he says one sunny afternoon at his rented office -- snug in the middle of Pisangan Baru neighborhood, Rawamangun.

Every Wednesday, the small office is always packed with the city's disadvantaged -- drivers, evicted residents, pedicab drivers and street traders.

"We meet and discuss a variety of issues -- what to do and how to do it," he said.

The regular meeting and the discussions were Tigor's tool to educate the people, opening their eyes to comprehend the need to have their rights served and their obligations fulfilled.

"I told them not to remain silent while their rights are sidestepped and bulldozed."

"We're stronger now, as the people have formed groups and fight in groups. There must be reasons as to why they are victimized by power-holders who are supposed to serve them," he continued.

There was nothing new, though, to his approach because a Brazilian educator, Paolo Freire, wrote in his famous book Pedagogy of the Oppressed, how to teach the oppressed, not only to empower them to rise up, but also to develop within themselves a higher level of integrity.

"I admire Freire. I've read much of the works of Ivan Illich, Machiavelli and Rousseau. Some of their thoughts are deeply instilled in me," he said.

He said that in Jakarta there was nobody to be scared of, not even Sutiyoso nor military figures, as long as he believed he was doing the right thing.

In one of his essays, he used a famous quote from Martin Luther King as an introduction: "... when evil men burn and bomb, good men must build and bind. Where evil men would seek to perpetuate an unjust status quo, good men must seek to bring into being a real order of justice."

"If people who were victimized were willing to struggle for a better system, why can't we?" he added.

"For some people I may not be a good man but I know to others I'm one of the few good men," he said.