Return to sender

The Japanese people's disquiet about Indonesia's handling of its rice aid is a classic example of the low opinion foreigners have of the Indonesian government's integrity. They have good reason to be apprehensive. After all, Indonesia is ranked among the world's most corrupt nations by the Berlin-based corruption watchdog Transparency International, and tops the list in Asia. Even the Indonesian government itself places scant trust in its own bureaucracy, exemplified by painfully slow disbursement of billions of dollars of foreign aid intended for various social safety net programs to help the poor.

The recent disclosure that a huge proportion of World Bank funds in Indonesia was siphoned off by government officials is only one more reason for anyone who has any dealings with Indonesia to be suspicious. When that dealing is prompted by a humanitarian calling, as in the case of the Japanese rice aid, then donors have the right to demand transparency.

Japan's concern was prompted by news reports, subsequently confirmed by the Indonesian government, that only a fraction of the 550,000 metric tons of rice shipped from Japan has actually been distributed. Most of it is languishing in government warehouses. The news, played up by the Japanese media, raised alarm about what will ultimately become of the donation and prompted speculation about possible irregularities. It was therefore natural for the Japanese government, which at the end of the day must be accountable to its taxpayers, to demand Indonesia set the record straight.

Tokyo's inquiries have been met, unfortunately, by responses which are not only unsatisfactory, but at times have come across as arrogant. They have done nothing to clear the mist of confusion already blurred by Indonesia's shoddy image abroad.

Minister of Trade and Industry Rahardi Ramelan, who is also chief of the State Logistics Agency (Bulog), contends the Japanese rice is of a high grade the poor cannot afford. Or, put in other words, the rice is too good for Indonesia's needy. Witness that the government has been giving out grade three rice -- the lowest quality -- in its aid package to the poor. The Japanese rice is earmarked instead as part of Bulog's open market operations to stabilize prices, to be sold at whatever price it fetches.

Rahardi argued that releasing the Japanese rice in the market at lower than market prices would undermine the market itself, hurting local farmers who produce high quality rice and who would suddenly be thrust into competition.

The minister no doubt irked the Japanese when he dismissively stated Indonesia's use of the rice was its own business because the rice was a loan that would have to be repaid (The rice aid is an interest-free loan repayable in kind in 30 years). He vouched for Bulog's long experience in the management of rice distribution, sidestepping the ugly fact that it ranks prominently among the many government agencies most notorious for corruption, collusion and nepotism.

Rahardi's comments make plain economic sense and go some way to explaining why the rice is still taking up space in government warehouses. But it falls flat in countering the reasoning that holding onto the rice contravenes the original intent of the shipment, to help the needy in Indonesia. On this count, the Japanese have every right to be upset as well as suspicious.

If we follow Rahardi's line of argument that the rice is too good for his poor countrymen and women, and its distribution in the market would pose serious competition for local farmers, then there is only one way out of this dilemma which addresses the problems of all concerned: Send the rice back to Japan, with a fitting thank-you note. Keeping the rice in warehouses does nobody any good; it could even get wet in the rainy season and ferment into sake. Rahardi would really have his work cut out for him in explaining that one.