The long, winding and stinking road to true democracy
JAKARTA (JP): Since most Indonesians are still "young", the majority of the population in this fourth-largest nation on earth might not have any recollection whatsoever about the first, violent-free and truly democratic elections that Indonesia had in 1955. Older people, who supposedly were eager voters then, are suddenly suffering severe amnesia now -- ostensibly due to systematic brainwashing over the past 44 years.
According to the great teaching of the past, democracy was a filthy western import. They said we Asians did not believe in it. So for all practical purposes in this current reform era, the newborn democracy can be anything but democracy, particularly to contemporary and sophisticated Indonesians like Jakartans.
First of all, democracy means violence. Lots and lots of it has been happening lately in the city: shootings, kidnappings, butchering, raping, burning, torturing, carjacking -- you name it, we've now got it.
Democracy may also mean adopting a new ideology and constitution. To many minorities in Jakarta -- and some of those who belong to the single majority group -- democracy could translate as the transformation of Indonesia into a theocratic nation. And that, of course, would be the surest and fastest way to civil war.
Democracy builds tall and sharp fences. Barbwire is everywhere from the Glodok and Mangga Dua areas in North Jakarta to the Blok M tunnels in South Jakarta. Even the beautiful lawn surrounding the Jakarta Stock Exchange building is now littered with ugly net-like metals.
Democracy is akin to living like a lab rat in an artificial maze. Barrier gates (or portal as the local tongue fondly calls them) have been erected at an exponential rate since the reform era begun. Try driving around in residential areas in Jakarta after 9 p.m. After stopping and reversing 10 times for three minutes at those roadblocks, you can't help feeling as if you're actually an experimental object in a research lab somewhere in one of the Milky Way's corners.
Democracy has created total confusion, and -- most importantly -- hysterical laughter, which stems from a plethora of newly established political parties with lively acronyms. Take PAN for instance. Many people in the capital call it Partai Amien Nakal (Naughty Amien Party). PKB they call Partai Kiai Buta (Blind Islamic Teacher Party). PDI they call Partai Dagelan Indonesia (Indonesia Comedy Party). And Golkar is Golongan Orang Lihai Karena Ahli Rekayasa (Group of Shrewd People Due to "Engineering" Expertise). The latter, of course, claims to be a born-again political party.
Democracy has brought a very colorful person to that white palace down by the National Monument. We now have a passionate, highly intelligent president who makes funny faces like Ace Ventura -- the pet detective -- right in front of state guests, sings ballads like a karaoke champ and swears with a straight face that his predecessor never lied. (Al Gore did a similar thing during the presidential race in 1992. He swore that Clinton never "inhaled".)
Democracy is a great family outing, too. I was driving in Menteng a short while ago. Supporters of PPP were in front of me, moving slowly on a gray scooter. Dad, mom and two small boys in green attire and no helmets. Suddenly, a small battalion of nationalist PDI Perjuangan approached from the opposite direction. Same stuff -- dad, mom and two small boys. Only these folks wore red and rode on a spanking red motorcycle. No helmets at all, either.
The PPP dad saw his counterpart and immediately beeped his horn. The PDI Perjuangan dad turned his head toward the PPP dad and beeped his horn. Suddenly, the two families raised their arms and started waving wildly at each other. Wide and pearly white smiles were exchanged with much enthusiasm. Aaahh!
My own family, though, thinks that democracy has a strong smell to it. In a formal letter dated April 6, our neighborhood chief announced that "registration for the general election can commence today ... behind the garbage dump on Patal Senayan Street."
The road to "true" democracy in Jakarta, or Indonesia for that matter, is frighteningly long and winding. It's thickly coated with blood, tears, fears, disorder, chortles, grins, plus tons and tons of dung.
But you can bet that I'll be walking down that road to the voting booth on June 7, 1999.
-- Binsar Lumbantobing