Sun, 01 Nov 1998

Reform means never having to say you are sorry

JAKARTA (JP): First thing in the morning of every Lebaran (Moslem Holiday), after praying, I have to accept apologies from my wife, my sons, my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter.

I say "I have to" because it is very unlikely that those loving creatures have made any mistakes to apologize for. It is just our tradition on the special day to forgive each other whole-heatedly, by saying "Maaf lahir batin".

Although the expression is some kind of cliche, it has never lost its sincerity. I always have a lump in my throat every time I have an apologizing hug. And it has been going on that way since God knows when.

"Even Kokom and Fatime forgive each other," purred Stephanie.

Kokom and Fatime are two neighboring widows who have been deadly enemies since they knew each other. On Lebaran, however, they hug each other and say "Maaf lahir batin" albeit, the next day, they will start their traditional rivalry and bout of bickering.

"Unfortunately that apologizing tradition exists only within common people," complained Hendro. He is a computer expert who happens to be among my eating group called The Bullshitters.

At that particular time, we were having lunch at Casablakang (an economy-class Padang-food restaurant behind tall buildings around the area of Casablanca, South Jakarta). As always, the occasion was filled with hot argumentation. "Those who are supposed to give good examples, do not believe in apologizing."

"Are we talking about the chairman of the ruling party who refused to apologize for what his group of politicians have done to this country?" rattled Winayoko.

"Yes, that's the topic. And also about a minister who made an insulting statement causing a wave of protest."

"As far as I understand," interjected Syahwan, scooping a spoon of chili sauce, "that minister in question has apologized."

"Yes, reluctantly, dutifully and arrogantly, without admitting his mistake."

"Well, arrogance is the pure characteristic of power. You've got to live with it."

"How about that party leader? Don't you think he has to do the same?"

"And what, in the name of anything holy, makes you think he has to apologize?" I demanded hotly. "He hasn't made any mistakes."

"Well ... of course not. But, it is a general truth," Hendro insisted. "Everybody knows about it."

"Where have you been?" retorted Roostamhadi. "Whatever you say nowadays should come with evidence. Otherwise, you'll be accused of humiliation, defamation, harassment, or anything the authorities may come up with. Take it from Aditjondro, Amien and Christianto. Those guys are facing knee-deep problems for what they say."

"This is a country of justice and everything must be done in accordance to the prevailing rules and regulations. Everything must be done constitutionally. That's what our leaders say every time they take a breath," gasped Erwin, trying to get used to the hot but delicious rendang. "And, there is no single paragraph in our laws and regulations that says anything about obligations to apologize."

"All right. But what about morality? Don't you think anybody who makes mistakes has some kind of moral obligation to apologize?"

"That's right. The trouble is, they don't feel like having made any mistakes. Why should they apologize? And if you demand an apology, you must do it constitutionally," I replied, borrowing the battle cry of those political celebrities.

Hendro was silent for a considerably long time, unable to go for further argument. Feeling like a winner, I nudged him. "Now go home and take care of your family sembako needs (basic needs). Let Mr. Akbar take care of the government things."

"Wait a minute! Somebody has to be held responsible for what this nation has gone through. Isn't that relevant to my demand for an apology?"

"It's the responsibility of the government, not a certain party leader," I offered. "And the so-called government was assigned by the House of Representatives through the General Assembly. And you, people, are the ones who elected the members of the House through the general election. And you are responsible for what you have to endure. Now, could you pass me the sambal (chili), please?"

"You are beginning to sound like a politician," chimed Aspita, who had been silent during the discussion.

"He sure does. And talking about politicians, don't you think they need to have a sense of sensitivity? I mean, people are now demanding an apology. And there's nothing magic about it. Even the head of the Armed Forces apologized. Why can't the party do the same?"

"Maybe they are just insensitive or, better yet, indifferent. They just don't listen to the voices of people and don't give a damn how people feel."

"Yeah. For sensitivity, they might have to take it from Dr Dolittle!"

Dr Dolittle is a caring character in a movie currently showing, played by Eddie Murphy. Busy as he is, the medical doctor "listens" to the voices of sick animals ignored by veterinarians. He repeatedly says he is sorry, even to a couple of dirty rats. He puts his million-dollar deal at stake just to cure a sick tiger.

"That kind of sensitivity, ladies and gentlemen, is what our leaders should adopt," said Roostamhadi. "At least they can say sorry whenever it is due." With that, the argument was concluded as nobody disagreed.

And I would like to apologize to the participants for publishing this "minutes of meeting" for my readers.

-- Carl Chairul