Letting go of past fictions, democracy without justice

Letting go of past fictions, democracy without justice

Ray Zulfirman Parsioan Pulungan, Jakarta

Four years ago I stepped into a house in Ciputat, Southern
Jakarta, which from the outside resembled all other houses in its
row, but on the inside appeared as a protest to sensible interior
decorating.

I asked the owner of the house, the late Boy Bagus
Yoganandita, whose novel idea it was to paint the walls pastel
green. "It was Elang; he was always creative", he replied,
beaming with pride.

Elang Mulya Lesmana was a student at Trisakti University who,
along with three other hapless students, was gunned down on May
12, 1998 during military suppression of a campus-wide
demonstration held that afternoon against Soeharto, initiating a
train of events that would culminate in the former president's
resignation.

Elang was also Boy's eldest son, his pride and joy, and a
spitting image of his father.

To date, I am still not sure whether Boy actually liked the
choice of color for his walls. After all, they were, I reiterate,
pastel green. Surely the women of the house -- his mother and
sister, who had demonstrably good taste -- must have raised
aesthetic concerns. But memory works erratically in the wake of
trauma. Boy might have first disapproved, then hesitantly
acquiesced, only to trumpet Elang's creative genius after his
untimely death.

Any truth to this conjecture is now irrelevant. Two years ago
Boy passed away, reportedly from severe psychological stress
incurred from five years of disappointment, frustration and
heartbreak in trying to bring some measure of closure to his
son's murder. His determination for justice was exhausted and
with it went his will to live. What seems more tragic, however,
is how the memory of the nation has turned.

Shockingly, increasingly more Indonesians believe that
Soeharto provided a better life for them compared to the lives
they have led since the reformation era began seven years ago.
True, if it can be said that Sukarno created an Indonesian
nation, then Soeharto built it a state. To his credit, Soeharto
aborted costly military adventures abroad, rescued a collapsed
economy, developed infrastructure, and improved standards in
education and health, for which he gave himself the designation,
Bapak Pembangunan, or "Father of Development".

Indonesians nostalgic for this New Order stability and
security seem to have grown weary -- and perhaps rightfully so --
of student demonstrations, media sensationalism and rising prices
of consumer goods and gasoline. So they look past the trampling
of civil liberties, state-sponsored murders and rampant rent-
seeking corruption that also characterized Soeharto's
stewardship. Certainly the comfort and conveniences to which a
large number of Indonesians gained access under Soeharto's
modernization policies made life easier, but no life ever grows
to its fullest potential in the shadow of tyranny.

Some Indonesians seem to want to forget the decades of gross
violations of human rights that occurred in the past for the
greater good of national reconciliation. A few weeks ago I read
with interest a transcript of an interview in which a well-known
economist said that Indonesians should bury the mistakes of the
past so that the nation as a whole could continue to progress.

This is as flimsy an argument as I've ever seen. I believe
only a nation with the courage to answer for its mistakes in the
past can look forward to a future that is far less likely to
commit them again. I suppose it's easy for someone to propose
willful collective amnesia to mend national trauma when that
person hasn't lost a dear loved-one to anonymous and gratuitous
gunfire.

In an ideal world the shooters would be brought to justice.
The reality, however, is that we live in Indonesia, where
concerns for rule of law take a backseat to "democratic
consolidation." But what good does our democracy serve without
the execution of justice? Throughout the developing world there
have been numerous examples of fragile states in the wake of
crisis that soon after re-experience destabilizing conditions
because political liberalization was lorded over by crucial
institution-building -- for instance, strengthening the legal
system.

In Indonesia, it has become evident that the central
impediment to rule of law is not a lack of political will but
rather the multiplicity of implicated actors. The culprits most
directly accountable for the death and destruction seven years
ago have now retreated into private life, enjoying curiously
princely pensions. To varying degrees, several of our current so-
called public servants have -- out of patrimonial allegiance to
the New Order -- perverted the law by refusing to allow
investigations to proceed, making them culpable for at best
obstruction of justice, and at worst as accomplices to murder.

As rule of law lags behind democratization, Indonesians who
see this miscarriage of justice should always remind the public
of the truth: The state murdered the children of its nation with
impunity. There have been encouraging signs. Earlier this month,
for the seventh straight year, university students in Jakarta
took to the streets with much fanfare, causing long delays in
traffic as they observed the May 98 tragedy, as that dark chapter
in history has now been labeled. Thousands of red-and-white flags
hung at half-mast to show a breathtaking display of solidarity.

This article, printed for posterity, serves as another attempt
on my part towards that end. Four years ago, Boy, fighting back
tears, asked me to inform an international audience through film
about the May tragedy so that his son would not have died in
vain. This time I write for a national readership with the
intention of reminding citizens of the unresolved murders of
Elang, his three fellow Trisakti students and the thousands of
Indonesians, students and non-students alike, who died at the
hands of New Order state terror, both before and after that
infamous afternoon in May 1998. Loved-ones were killed, families
broken and homes ravaged, but even so our memory remains free of
revisionism and our desire for justice still burns feverishly.

The writer wrote, produced and directed Political Uncertainty:
Indonesian Students on the Move. He can be reached at
rparsioan@yahoo.com.