'United, victims are invincible'

Tony Hotland, The Jakarta Post, Jakarta

The events of Nov. 18, 1998 were sobering for Maria Catarina Sumarsih, as they were for the nation, yet they also sparked in her the drive to fight for human rights.

When she received last Friday the Yap Thiam Hien Award, the fifty-two-year-old joined a list of lauded activists that includes the late Munir and Wiji Thukul. Although, she confessed, early on she had known little about rights issues.

"I was just a regular -- a common housewife -- who had worked and raised her kids as normal. I didn't even know what an activist was. There was nothing extraordinary about me, and there's still nothing," she said after receiving the prestigious award.

Her days as an "ordinary" housewife, however, were numbered. During a massive demonstration at the Semanggi cloverleaf in Jakarta on Nov. 18, 1988 her son, Bernardinus Realino Norma Irawan, was killed along with 16 others in a shooting spree.

"It broke my heart," she said, though the words were barely audible.

"My life virtually stopped, particularly knowing that my son was just on a voluntary mission to help the victims in the incident," she said.

Although she had vowed to seek justice for her son, Sumarsih did not pursue an inquiry into his death straightaway. Like most people -- and perhaps most families of the victims -- she sat back with her husband and daughter, waiting for the government to resolve the case and take the guilty ones to court for prosecution.

But justice never arrived. Not even when nine people, including students, were shot to death during a demonstration in the same spot a year later.

Feeling betrayed, Sumarsih began to take action, joining with families of the victims of both tragedies and non-governmental organizations.

"We all came to government agencies that we thought had the authority to handle the cases, like the defense ministry and even the State Palace, demanding a resolution. Not once, not twice -- all the time," she said.

The victims are also seeking assistance from political parties (though not the Golkar Party), the House of Representatives, the National Commission on Human Rights (Komnas HAM) and United Nations representatives.

Yet their attempts seemed to have come to no avail when a House plenary session declared that no human rights violations had occurred in the killing tragedies.

"Even the Attorney General's Office (AGO), which was our last hope, said the same thing. It felt like the world had turned upside down. It even crossed my mind that what we were doing was in vain. I almost gave up," she said.

But the thought of her son, and the humanitarian work he had been doing, became her strength. "It motivated me," the woman said as she wiped tears from her eyes.

Once, in 2001, Sumarsih, who works at the House secretariat, hurled rotten eggs from the balcony of the House building at legislators passing by while shouting, "The House does not represent us at all!"

"I felt good about that. I really did," she said, although she quickly added that she also felt fortunate she did not lose her job.

Despite the statements issued by the House and the AGO, Sumarsih never succumbed. Her focus, which was mainly on the Semanggi tragedies, shifted to include other human rights abuse cases.

Staging rallies, standing in front of crowds and criticizing the government's apathy become a regular activity.

It's tiring sometimes. But whenever I visit my son's grave, the spirit returns. I feel like there's no stopping us, and this fight must continue, at least to honor my son and other sons who died in the name of truth," said Sumarsih, who visits her son's grave every day.

They are used to coming up against resistance as they are often forced to work against the system.

"It's the police. It's the military. It's they who are armed. They just keep getting in our way. Either they block us when we're demonstrating, or torment us. They're the ones who make this more difficult -- maybe because our struggle regards them and their friends," she suggested.

Aside from human rights cases, Sumarsih has also staged rallies to protest laws, including the one that would fortify the military's grip on the legislature, and the truth and reconciliation law, which would "erase" past rights abuses.

Six years have gone by and four new presidents have been inaugurated since the fall of Soeharto, but the truth remains hidden, while political and economic issues take priority.

"But I won't give up. The truth must be heard. I understand that someone's death is in God's hands, but how they die must be in a reasonable way. If they died because of the government's greed for power -- and violence -- someone must be responsible," said Sumarsih.

She said she would dedicate the Yap Thiam Hien Award to her son's memory, though personally she does not crave recognition. Regardless, it cannot be denied that she has inspired new activists, who the country badly needs, and continues to do so.

"She may have been self-centered in her reasoning at the start -- in trying to find out who killed her son. But as time goes by, she has evolved into being an undaunted fighter, who embraces many victims whose rights have been abused and, most importantly, she speaks out for them," noted lawyer Todung Mulya Lubis commented.

"My knowledge may not be great, but I do know that, united, victims are invincible," Sumarsih said.