Never too late to hear the cry of the people

Never too late to hear the cry of the people

By Soedjati Djiwandono

JAKARTA (JP): On my way to the Juanda airport in Surabaya
recently it was dawn and I asked the taxi driver if he had stayed
up all night.

"Yes, sir. I only earned Rp 6,000 the whole day yesterday
because of traffic jams everywhere caused by demonstrations. I am
a member of the United Development Party, sir. But I don't mind
at all, so that justice may prevail," he said, referring to the
forums held by supporters of Megawati Soekarnoputri, the
dethroned leader of the Indonesian Democratic Party (PDI).

On previous occasion, during a taxi drive in Yogyakarta, the
taxi driver started a conversation by asking what I thought of
the current situation. I said I was quite concerned and worried.

He then volunteered his own opinion, "Never mind, sir, it's
just like flying a kite. We keep the line loose and it will fly
as high as possible into the sky. But against strong winds, the
line will snap and it will plunge back to earth. We just have to
be patient."

During still another taxi drive, this time in Jakarta, the
taxi driver slowed down as we approach a wealthy residential
area.

He said, "Do you see the big house over there on the left,
sir? I have noticed that it has been renovated a number of times
over the past year. I don't understand why. But what a
difference. Here I am, having to work hard everyday for long
hours on end, just to get enough food for my family. And out
there, a rich guy seems to have so much money he does not know
what to do with it!"

I do not remember exactly how I responded to the seemingly
casual and jovial remarks of those people. Were they joking? Were
they serious? Was I afraid to comment? Did I feel guilty? And in
all sincerity, did I understand what those people were really
talking about, and were they talking about the same thing? Or did
I refuse to hear and understand?

Thinking back, they were simple words expressed from the
simple logic of the man in the street: neither very
sophisticated, nor highly educated, and obviously not rich. But
they spoke of something the common people understand: of justice,
of a change toward greater justice.

By contrast, my comfortable life, at least most probably in
comparison to theirs, has made me deaf and blind. Perhaps my
intellectual arrogance has made me dumb, turning a blind eye to
the plight of such men and women. Am I, or are they, among the
alienated?

Some fleeting thoughts crossed my devious mind: "Are they
perhaps 'communists' or those exploited by communists planning an
"insurrection" to overthrow the government?"

Then my arrogance got the better of me. I argued with myself:
"Of course not, don't be ridiculous. Not these people. I spent a
decade in prestigious universities in capitalist countries
studying communism and international communism, its strategy and
tact, graduating with first, second and third degrees. I have
been engaged in debates and discussions with dozens of communist
scholars and intellectuals from different communist countries.
Yet I can't claim to know everything about it. Don't kid
yourself!"

How on earth, at the very least, would they overthrow a
government without the support of the military? The "people
power" in the Philippines, that overthrew the Marcos regime, was
successful because at the right time the armed forces, under the
leadership of Gen. Fidel Ramos (now president), changed sides
with the people, as did the then secretary for defense Juan
Enrille.

This was one of the primary forces behind people power in that
country. And the so-called "student power" against the Old Order
regime in Indonesia in the mid-1960s would have been meaningless
without the backing of the military, just as the case in some
other countries. I don't know. I am not sure of anything anymore.
I am confused. Well, who isn't these days?

The writer is a member of the Board of Directors of the Centre
for Strategic and International Studies, Jakarta.