Our education: Schooling in ruined buildings

Our education: Schooling in ruined buildings

B. Herry-Priyono, Jakarta

As the 2004/2005 academic year draws to a close and the new
school year approaches, an old cycle of urgency is returning. It
is the angst of enrolling children in school, the problem of
paying for their education and the questions surrounding the
lamentable quality of education in Indonesia. These problems were
here last year and the year before, and they are likely to haunt
us again next year. Like some kind of amnesia, they return only
to fade away once the school year is underway.

These months, amid the angst of parents preparing their
children's schooling, the cycle of urgency takes the form of a
promise by the government to rebuild school buildings that are
either ruined or in a state of irreversible decay. There is
nothing new in this, as it has been a grave problem for the past
10 years or so. It only has the appearance of urgency due to the
law of history: the longer it is left unattended, the harder its
urgent nature bites.

How large is the scale of decay? According to data at the
Ministry of National Education from 2003-2004, of 816,834 state
elementary school buildings (SD), 471,050 (57.67 percent) were in
a state of decay. As for the condition of state junior high
schools (SMP), 22,621 (16.30 percent) of a total of 138,742 were
in a state of decay, while 2,589 of a total a 47,913 state high
school buildings (SMA) were in ruin. As many other data about the
dark side of Indonesia, these numbers are likely conservative.

History may not cry over spilled milk, but since the future is
a history made by our children, history certainly cries over
ruined school buildings. It is laudable that a sense of urgency
over ruined school buildings has again descended upon this
country's mandarins. It is a promise that deserves wide support.
But political promises are often a triumph of hope over
experience. And the story of political promises in Indonesia
contains enough tragedy to discourage even the most resilient
romantic. This is also true with the promise to rebuild ruined
school buildings. No one knows for sure whether the promise is
simply a game of public relations or a statement of political
intent.

For courtesy's sake, let us assume that it is a statement of
political intent that will be pursued to its consequences. First,
the problem of ruined school buildings is only one among many in
the universe of problems besetting education in Indonesia. The
others include the quality of teachers, technology for learning,
curriculum, school management and financing, plus intangible
issues like the civic content of education as opposed to
sectarian content, which has reached an alarming level.

Repairing ruined school buildings is far from addressing the
problems of education in Indonesia. Nonetheless, it is a virtue
to start at the lowest level of expectation. If, due to a lack of
creative imagination, the government can promise only to address
the most physical side of the problem -- i.e., repairing ruined
school buildings -- and is yet to address the less visible sides,
then it is a virtue to pursue it as an entry point.

Second, it is convenient to start with law. The story of
reform in Indonesia, however, contains enough lessons to conclude
that many bills may have been passed, but ruined school buildings
remain unrepaired. It is a constitutional mandate that "the state
shall prioritize the budget for education to a minimum of 20
percent of the state budget and of regional budgets"
(Constitution, Article 31.4). Every constitution is an ideal; the
loftier the better. Yet it is clear that this ideal is based on a
premise that the government has the autonomous capacity to
determine budget allocations. This premise is farcical, not only
because a large amount of the budget is siphoned off to
corruptors' pockets, but also because of budget cuts in areas
deemed "social", like education and public health.

So, the statement of political intent faces a mounting problem
of financing. On this issue, it is instructive to affirm a
criticism posed by Indonesian Human Development Report (IHDR)
2004: "At a time of financial stringency, there is a temptation
to postpone the necessary social investment: the government may
instead focus excessively on repairing the state budget at the
expense of human and social development, in the hope that this
will create enough investor confidence to regenerate [economic]
growth." This is a type of predicament that is likely to recur.

To say that this tendency is a policy error is simply stating
the obvious. IHDR 2004 suggests other sources of financing. One
is "by taking a certain percentage of proceeds from the
exploitation of natural resources, since these resources are
ultimately owned by all Indonesians".

The other is a form of levy "applied to wealthy individuals".
But there is another source suggested by IHDR 2004, i.e. "a
social sector levy on corporation". This is likely to spark
controversy, as it runs counter to the mainstream economic idea
that business should not be hampered by any costs other than
those directly related to the process of capital accumulation.

IHDR 2004 argues that such a social levy "would not
necessarily add to business costs" insofar as it is compensated
by "moderate wage claims". In my view, the issue runs much
deeper. It has something to do with the ongoing tidal wave of
deregulation. Deregulation stands on a premise that is less to do
with economic issues than with a new art of statecraft. In a
nutshell, it is the idea that the survival of a society must no
longer depend on the working of its government. This, of course,
is one side of a coin whose other side is the idea that the
survival of a society can no longer simply be the burden of its
government. In short, deregulation is an act of stakeholding by
other sectors in society in tandem with the government.

Now, consider this question. Which sector is the main
beneficiary of school products in the form of workers and other
professional groups? It is neither the government nor any other
sector but the business sector. Indeed, by eschewing this act of
stakeholding -- here the case involves the reconstruction of
ruined school buildings -- the business sector may simply be a
free rider in Indonesian society.

The writer is a postgraduate lecturer at the Driyarkara School
of Philosophy, Jakarta.