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.