The governor's new clothes
What could Rp 105 million -- the equivalent of about US$7,500 -- buy in this time of crisis in Jakarta? Some 35,000 kilograms of rice, perhaps, or more than 17,000 kgs of cooking oil, or 4,200 one-liter cans of milk, or 43,750 kgs of sugar. Even at the current inflated prices, Rp 105 million could do a lot to relieve the hardships of those who are suffering the most in the ongoing economic crisis.
With that kind of money, hospitals would be able to at least partly resupply their dwindling stocks of medicines. Schools would be able to repair or maintain their run-down buildings, or help pupils whose parents have become too poor to pay their school fees. Or, of course, it could be used to buy new clothes fit for a governor of Jakarta, which is after all the capital of Indonesia, Southeast Asia's biggest and most populous country.
Considering the value that such an amount of money represents to the great majority of Indonesians in this time of hardship, credit must be given to Jakarta Governor Sutiyoso who has had the good judgment to order the official Rp 105 million dress allowance which is allotted to him under the current fiscal year's city budget to be scrapped.
The money would have enabled the governor to buy an official governor's uniform, two city administration uniforms, two civil security uniforms and state employee uniforms. In addition, Sutiyoso also ordered his city secretary to trim other expenses allocated under the city budget for his position, including expenses for the governor's household totaling Rp 8.2 billion for the current fiscal year.
As Sutiyoso said, "I've already bought two coats. That should be enough for any official ceremonies. Besides, I can still use the clothes I had before I was appointed governor." The governor even went a step further by asking his subordinates to follow his example and reduce their spending on official clothing.
By making this timely decision, Sutiyoso incidentally, has averted the kind of caustic public criticism that other high- echelon government officials have endured. Early this month, for example, West Java Governor Nuriana was asked to trim his Rp 100 million annual budget for official apparel and his Rp 275 million budget for the maintenance of his official cars.
Such instances of bureaucratic extravagance might remind many of us of a few similar cases that got caught in the public spotlight in the not-so-distant past and might have been forgotten in the din of more recent developments. We still don't know, for example, what happened to the proposed building of a multibillion rupiah mansion for Central Java's provincial governor, or to the planned construction of a Rp 1 billion swimming pool in the backyard of a government administrator in Bekasi, east of Jakarta.
But if such huge sums are allotted for top regional officials in Jakarta and West Java, it would only be reasonable to assume that governors and other top-ranking administrators and bureaucrats elsewhere must be getting similar facilities.
In the kind of feudalistic reasoning that was common among New Order authorities of the Soeharto era, high-ranking officials deserved to have their authority demonstrated by tangible tokens of their lofty status.
In the more democratic and populist climate that prevails at present, however, it should be obvious where the priorities must lie. A provincial governor and all the bureaucrats that serve under him are first and foremost public servants whose duty it is to look after the interests of the people under their jurisdiction. Their first duty is to look after the people's welfare and their general well-being.
Of course, it is reasonable to expect that bureaucrats, like other functionaries in office, public or private, properly look after their personal appearance. But it is the performance of their duties that distinguishes the successful official from the unsuccessful. Clothes, by themselves, do not make the man. Without the ability to perform, an official, however high his official status, might just as well be naked.