Poisoning of an activist a test case for Susilo

Poisoning of an activist a test case for Susilo

Aboeprijadi Santoso, Amsterdam

The arsenic poisoning of the Indonesian human rights champion,
Munir, has aroused so much attention that he is even more
"present" in death than he was in life. Yet, without the reform
of state apparatuses and the will and determination of the
country's leadership, the case will remain a mystery.

Munir's untimely death is a tragedy that illustrates the real
divide between the state and civil society -- the legacy of the
New Order's state dominance, which remains strong in some sectors
and could reemerge despite post-Soeharto democratic reform. Like
other Indonesian human rights fighters, Munir's activism was
bound to come up against resistance, mostly from individuals or
groups within state apparatuses who had been accused of rights
violations.

As he was also greatly interested in the war against
corruption, many elements within the same apparatuses had every
reason to protect themselves. Finally, it's no coincidence that,
when the autopsy report arrived in Indonesia, it was state
interests rather than the citizen's rights that almost
automatically prevailed.

The political assassination of Munir, therefore, has incited
increasing concerns worldwide. It has become a case for civil
societies to defend and strengthen themselves vis a vis the
interests of some state elements.

Munir, 39, has been described as "everything a human-rights
activist should be: Principled, tough, smart, funny and
fearless." In the words of Sidney Jones of the International
Crisis Group, "he stood up to people in power, made them angry,
got threat after threat after threat, and never gave up." (Asia
Times, Nov. 16).

Born in the same year as the New Order, itself born from
massive atrocities (1965), Munir's activism was bound to confront
state power. He rose to prominence when Soeharto was forced to
relinquish his power in 1998. He was allegedly murdered by
poisoning in a year when the state is challenged by demands for
civil supremacy and clean governance.

Most of the issues he was involved with were sensitive ones,
from the disappearances of several antigovernment activists in
1998, to the investigation of East Timor violence in 1999. Unlike
some of his senior colleagues, he was not constrained by an
excessive "patriotic" spirit when dealing with problems such as
those of East Timor and Aceh.

He may have been too close to the truth, worrying some. A few
months before he died, he was preoccupied with investigations for
the campaign to oppose the laws on the Indonesian Military (TNI)
and possible corruption related to the budget for the Aceh war
and military civic mission. It is believed he planned to write a
dissertation on Aceh at the University of Utrecht.

His enemy, therefore, as Munir's friends at Indonesian Human
Rights Watch (Imparsial) hinted, should be sought within the
"powerful institutions" of the state. This distrust illustrates
the growing cleavage between civil society and some state
elements. Unless Munir's case is successfully resolved, such a
condition is not conducive for both the state and society to
consolidate Indonesia's hard-won democracy.

Another issue, which may have a lesser but similar effect, is
the autopsy report. Munir's case and the problem of the autopsy
report exemplifies the extent to which the relationship between
states is prioritized over the human fate and human rights of a
citizen and his family, no matter the crimes and the suffering
involved.

Bureaucratic hurdles and the diplomatic, customs and legal
frameworks of the two countries involved -- Indonesia and the
Netherlands -- have completely denied Munir's family the
legitimate right to first-hand knowledge of the full autopsy
report.

There are two problems here: the six-week delay of the report
and the denial of the victim's rights. The Netherlands Forensic
Institute (NFI), which conducted the autopsy, had apparently been
"too busy" with other things, including moving its office and
laboratory.

Three weeks after Munir's death, in late September, when the
report was expected to be issued, the Dutch authorities said the
case needed to be reexamined. But, it was not until six weeks
later, early this month, that Munir's case was made a
"high priority". Why -- and how -- a six-week delay should occur
when the case at hand is a serious matter, is not clear.

Meanwhile, the case had been transferred to the Ministry of
Foreign Affairs in The Hague, ignoring the agreement at Schiphol
airport on Sept. 9 between Munir's family and the local
prosecutor's office (the Parket Haarlem, whose jurisdiction
includes Schiphol) that the family would be the first to receive
the report via the Dutch mission in Jakarta.

Worse, when the summary of the report finally arrived at the
Indonesian Foreign Affairs Ministry on Nov. 11, the latter
allegedly leaked it to a Dutch correspondent, but failed to
inform Munir's widow, Suciwati. It was not until the latter went
to a lot of trouble to make inquiries at the Foreign Ministry,
the Office of the Coordinating Minister for Political, Legal and
Security Affairs and the National Police that she was shown --
but did not acquire -- the summary.

The decision was apparently made on the legal grounds that it
was a possible crime against a non-Dutch citizen, on a non-Dutch
flight, in non-Dutch territory and "it was not a universal case".

Diplomatic, bureaucratic and legal arguments have thus won
over anything else in the case of this extraordinary political
crime. It's a formal and minimalist argument, without a shred of
empathy, that flatly ignores the victim's right.

From the point of view of the victim, the only positive
element so far is a verbal pledge. Asked by Munir's family
representative, Sri Rusminingtyas, at a press conference in The
Hague on Nov. 19, whether the police would hand a copy of the
full Dutch autopsy report to the family if they got one, the
delegation's chief, Anton Carliyan, answered affirmatively.

As bureaucratic and legal problems sadly denied Munir's family
their legitimate right, it remains to be seen whether it is
possible to have something that has often proven to be impossible
in the past i.e. a thorough and credible investigation to find
and punish the perpetrator(s) and those responsible for the
crime. There lies an opportunity for the new President to make a
difference.

To resolve Munir's case justly is important for the sake of
human rights defenders and for Indonesia's democracy -- hence,
this is a test case for President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono's
administration.

The writer is a journalist with Radio Netherlands. The views
he expresses in this article are his own.