Talking the talk in the DPR: An insider's view

Mochtar Buchori, Legislator, Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle, Jakarta

Measured by any standard, I am a poor legislator, and I'm not a blunt person. So how can a person who outside the legislature is considered reputable, becomes dumb and obfuscates whenever he assumes his role as a legislator?

Here's why.

While most members of our House of Representatives (DPR) are good public speakers, I'm very clumsy when it comes to making speeches within the House. And while most of them love debates, I don't. And I hate being interrupted, and I also hate making interruptions.

Interruptions, as they have been made within the legislature, are often callow, and sometimes even crude.

As a teacher for many, many years, I had received good training and, in the process, gained considerable experience in the art of speechmaking.

But after listening to the talks of other members, I often wonder whether it's even necessary for me to speak. What should I say not to add more confusion and pollution in the air?

"How shall I organize my thoughts to make the structure of the problem become more perceptible -- and to avoid repeating what has already been said?"

I have an aversion towards people who are pathologically excessive talkers. I am for discussions that clarify problems, and eventually lead to solutions.

Debates in the House, on the other hand, seem conducted primarily for the benefit of people seeking to outwit one another. Or, for filibustering while awaiting the formulation of a political solution.

Discussions are held to clarify problems, and to find solutions acceptable to all concerned parties. In political debates, however, it is emotion that dominates the process, while in non-political discussions, it is reason.

In most cases, interruptions do not seem necessary.

If an agenda for a meeting has been agreed upon, why can't we just proceed discussing the problems covered by the agenda? Why don't we try to spend the allotted time to secure a discussion on the essence of the matter, and not wasting it by dwelling upon other, unrelated problems?

Making interruptions is impolite. If you have to make an interruption at all, you must try to do it in a civilized manner. There are such manners.

So I feel like the odd man out in the House -- or like "a strange duck in the pond," as the Dutch put it.

"So why don't you just quit?" a friend once asked.

I've tried to, several times. Many friends have talked me out of this so far, however; and one offered particularly hard- hitting advice.

"How are you going to live?" He cited my retirement allowance, monthly teaching wages and article honorariums, plus medical fees. "And how much for your wife?"

One cannot live properly in Jakarta without income from the legislature, he said.

"Hide your pride and suppress your aristocratic feelings! Don't feel guilty about not doing much talking in the legislature," he said, as long as I continued to write and remind people of the nation's challenges.

And consider the monthly "honorary fee" from the legislature a contribution from the state, he said, and from the people, "to enable you to do what you have to do, and can do, best."

This piece of advice was quite a painful wake-up call to reality.

Another friend reminded me of the consequences of becoming a "public figure."

What is important, instead of personal feelings about life in the House, is "how your political party and the public feel about your behavior as a member of our legislature" -- as long as one was considered an honest legislator.

"Your silence within the noisy legislature can at times be an asset to you and your political party," he said.

Suddenly quitting would hurt the party, he said, as people would think there might be something wrong with the party's relationship with its member.

Quoting a poet, he said, "stick to the fight when you are hardest hit. It's when things seem worst that you must not quit."

Well-meaning advises apart, I still do not know how to measure the quality of the legislature, including myself.

A good legislator should meet standards of morality, legality, and "politicity," or political wisdom.

But in a country where there is never convergence between these three standards, how do you approximate such quality of politicians and legislators?

There is, indeed, no parliament in the world where every one of its members is always morally scrupulous, legally correct and politically wise. These are the characteristics of political angels, which there are far too few -- and not of political devils, of which there are far too many.