The governorship race -- Whose Jakarta is it anyway?
Endy M. Bayuni, Deputy Editor, The Jakarta Post, Jakarta
Although the election of Jakarta's next governor is not due until September, the city's Legislative Council has already shut the door on the public to participate in a process that is crucial to their lives and the future of the city.
Public participation virtually stopped when the registration of the candidates at the Legislative Council ended on June 21. A total of 72 people took up the challenge to register. Another 47 registered for the vice governorship race.
The governor-wannabees who are challenging incumbent Sutiyoso include not only seasoned local politicians, but also scholars, senior bureaucrats, retired generals and activists.
But one who stands out among the pack is Rasdullah, the 38- year-old school dropout becak (pedicab) driver, whose chief claim to the city's top position is that he has a conscience. That is a rare quality among today's politicians in Indonesia, but the way elections here are designed, conscience is an irrelevant issue.
The registration process was a merry affair. Never before in the history of Jakarta has the governorship election been formally contested by so many people of diverse backgrounds.
But that's it as far as public participation in the election process goes. Once the registration was closed, the matter of electing the governor became fully the domain of the city's political elite: the factions in the Legislative Council.
There is hardly any room left, if at all, for the public to influence the course of the election, let alone the outcome.
The next stage in the election process is the formal nomination. Only candidates supported by one of the 11 factions will qualify. That virtually rules out independent candidates like Rasdullah and urban planning expert Marco Kusumawijaya and lawyer and activist Nursyahbani Katjasungkana -- who is contesting the vice governorship -- even if they enjoy some support from members of the public.
Each of the 11 factions has the right to select two groups of nominees, with each containing the names of candidates for governor and vice governor. Theoretically, there could, in consequence, be up to 22 candidates for each of the two posts after nominations are closed on Aug. 5.
Those who pass the nomination process will undergo a rigorous fit-and-proper test conducted by the Jakarta Legislative Council. From this process, the Council is expected to bring the list of candidates down to five pairs, before they are put to a vote, which is scheduled for Sept. 17.
What role is there for the public in any of this process?
None apparently.
During the nomination process, the factions are not even obliged to consult with the public. Going by their attitude these past few weeks, none of the factions seems to give a hoot about public opinion. Witness their cool response to protests opposing Sutiyoso's nomination.
President Megawati Soekarnoputri's PDI Perjuangan faction, the largest, with 30 of the 84 seats in the Council, must count as the worst betrayer of public trust by nominating Sutiyoso when it is clear that he no longer enjoys the support of most Jakartans because he has failed them in the last five years.
Once public participation has ended, the election process quickly turns into horse-trading, which seems to have become the trademark of Indonesian politics. All 11 factions, including, most of all, PDI Perjuangan, will use their clout to get whatever they can from this process. Unfortunately, their political interest rarely coincides with that of the public.
Take as an example PDI Perjuangan's decision to nominate Sutiyoso. Going by party officials' explanation, it was President Megawati who ordered the party's faction in the Legislative Council to nominate the incumbent governor.
The reason given is that she felt more comfortable if the post were held by someone with a military background, apparently out of concern about the security situation in the capital city.
Since Jakarta's problems seemed to have worsened, despite being governed by military generals since the 1960s, Megawati must either have a very low opinion about present-day civilian leaders, or an inflated view of men in uniform.
If military background is indeed the chief criterion, then Sutiyoso fits the bill, and the faction need not bother looking for another candidate. Just make sure that he gets elected, so the order from Megawati goes.
This, however, puts her at odds with many of the party's own rank-and-file who remember Sutiyoso's role in the bloody attack at the party's headquarters in Jakarta in July 1996. The fact that he has still to clear his name in the affair in court mattered little to Megawati, whose overriding concern was security.
But security for whom was never made clear.
Given that her argument for choosing Sutiyoso was not very compelling, the real reason has been the subject of speculation. One theory most often cited is that Sutiyoso has promised to deliver Jakarta to PDI Perjuangan in the 2004 elections if he were reappointed governor.
Whatever the real reason, Megawati has acted not only against the public interest, but also against the interests of her supporters. Even the Jakarta Chapter of PDI Perjuangan had opposed Sutiyoso's nomination before it was forced to comply with her order.
Megawati's intervention in the governorship election process may not stop there. By law, the Legislative Council must "consult" with her about the final candidates before voting.
This is a presidential prerogative accorded to her because, under the unitary state system of government, a provincial governor is a representative of the president in the region. The person is technically an extension of the President's power.
President Megawati, like Soeharto before her, could strike out any candidate she disliked, and could even influence the council to vote for her preferred candidate. The President has the right to refuse to install the elected candidate, if she so wishes.
This explains the reluctance of the central government to fully entrust the people with electing their governors or regency chiefs; And why the public is excluded from the election process, except at the beginning.
The election of the governor of Jakarta -- the seat of the Indonesian administration, the nation's center of trading and business activity -- is simply too precious for Megawati and the powers that be to be left to simple democratic forces.
But for the 9 million or so residents, Jakarta is their home, a place to live and work in, to raise families and to build their communities. They, rather than the politicians, should have the right to determine whom they wish to see as their governor.
Politicians who conspire to deprive Jakartans of their democratic rights must remember that the elected or appointed governor must eventually work with the residents he or she governs. Without their support, the next governor will find it difficult, if not impossible, to work.