Tue, 07 Aug 2001

What will Gus Dur do

By Aboeprijadi Santoso

Baltimore, USA (JP): Abdurrahman Wahid, alias Gus Dur, may be a tragic president, after his rule started with euphoria and ended with drama, but given the numerous crises the country faces and his potential to contribute to the wellbeing of the nation, the deposed president need not end up as a tragic figure. "I shall return," he promised. So what next, Gus?

"Theoretically, I'm still president, but the reality is more important," Abdurrahman said the day after his doctors at Johns Hopkins Hospital declared that his health was "good and stable".

Relaxing in his suite at Harbour Court Hotel in Baltimore, he appeared calm, sometimes obviously suppressing his sadness.

In an interview with Radio Netherlands in Baltimore last week, he accused the politicians who ousted him from office of "a conspiracy". "I had under-estimated the less civilized quality of the politicians who chose to cooperate with the anti-democratic forces. That was my mistake," he said.

Abdurrahman claimed that it was the meeting of party leaders at the house of then vice president Megawati Soekarnoputri that blocked the compromise and led him to issue the decree to freeze the legislature on the night of July 22 -- a blunder, as it turned out.

"I had to give a counterattack anyway," said Abdurrahman. So, as coordinating minister Agum Gumelar and military chief Adm. Widodo came to convey their refusal to back him, "Gus Dur stood up and shouted angrily," one witness revealed.

Abdurrahman was convinced his decree was necessary to prevent "a bloodbath", but his justification was not convincing. He claimed he had made several calls and diffused attempts to proclaim independence by Minahasa and Papua.

It's clear from his story, however, that the Army played an increasingly pivotal role, in addition to the threat of the troops facing the palace. On Aceh, for example, he confirmed that Presidential Order No.4, issued last April and leading to greater conflict and casualties, was issued following pressure from some generals. "That (order) was my only meeting point (with them)," he said.

In reality, Abdurrahman only relied on a few generals and some mid-rank officers from the Army and police force. They had vowed to support him, but in the end they were blocked by their superiors or refuted their support.

His story suggests that the generals had left him in the cold. "They did not come when I called them," he said dryly.

While Abdurrahman refrained from naming names, some of his close aides were more open about the key moments during his eight-month fight with the legislative bodies. As time run out, his hopes of staying in power increasingly depended on the two key ministers he successively placed as powerbrokers, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono and Agum Gumelar.

"These generals were acting like Sangkuni," Abdurrahman's aides said. Sangkuni is a notorious prime minister in wayang shadow puppet stories who selfishly maintains the status quo by being double-faced in his relationship with the king.

Abdurrahman refused to comment, saying only the essence of the process is that "the politicians chose to be untrustworthy by cooperating with the anti-democratic forces".

But, on July 22-23, shortly after the decree, Abdurrahman told some activists in the palace a different story. "Look, I have to deal with you, with the generals and with the kyai (Muslim clerics); I agree with many of you and some of the generals, but I came from the milieu of Muslim clerics, so I choose the latter. Another source significantly added that it was the latter, the Langitan Forum of Batuceper, who advised Abdurrahman to issue the decree.

Indonesia's experience with her leaders has shown that different social origins have shaped different dynamics. Like Sukarno, Abdurrahman could easily move in elite, political circles, while remaining deeply rooted in his society.

Sukarno was a product of the colonial era, molded by the dynamic that moved him and the masses toward independence and nation building. Once the new state was institutionalized, he was politically too romantic for a social revolution, thus failed to "revolutionize" the state and society. As the Army seized greater privileges, its vested interests disrupted Sukarno's mission.

Soeharto was precisely part and parcel of that disruptive state apparatus. The soldier of a colonial army by choice, he moved to join an occupation force as the Japanese army defeated the Dutch. Then he merged it into a peoples army and made it a powerful machine of the New Order. So he felt at home in authoritarian structures, finding his niche in state power.

To borrow the metaphor, Soeharto thus became a Great Sangkuni, ruling the archipelago longer than any Dutch Governor General and successfully building a stable empire by suppressing Indonesia's potential for democracy.

Hence, Abdurrahman was correct when he stated that Indonesia "achieves independence for the second time", after he assumed the presidency in Oct. 1999.

But Abdurrahman was not exactly the type of leader comfortable to the psyche of the elite. "How can Indonesia, our great country, be ruled by wong picek (a blind man)?" one of Habibie's ministers asked this writer, referring to Abdurrahman's presidential candidacy back in Sept. 1999.

Likewise, with such a frail man as its Supreme Commander, the country's proud armed forces, its top brass and many of its officers, would most likely feel humiliated when challenged.

Like Sukarno, Abdurrahman is also the product of an oppressed society, the New Order, but he linked the traditional religious sector and movements outside state politics. As president, he was the first to sack a four-star general and started to reform the military, albeit with great difficulty. But he led the nation in a globalized world demanding more managerial efficacy and efficiency than might be expected from an erratic leader like him.

A recalcitrant intellectual, he was, therefore, not well equipped to build a stable relationship with a strong, ambitious, but mostly unproductive legislature.

As a result, he had confronted too many "Sangkuni's", who were finally united in a legislative coup to defend some interests in the name of reform. But, once ousted and humiliated, Abdurrahman could easily return to his niche.

One surely does not need another "Great Sangkuni" to build a stable state, even when the reform was heavily burdened with the New Order's legacy. The tragedy of Abdurrahman is that he came as the right man at the right moment, but probably not in the right place.

Yet there is nothing tragic about a man of his reputation, a liberal humanist and leader of the masses, returning to civil society and fighting for democracy. With ethnic-nationalism, religious sectarianism and militarism still looming, Abdurrahman remains a national asset.

On his last evening in Baltimore, Abdurrahman invited his American doctors, Indonesian diplomats and friends for a dinner on a boat cruising the beautiful harbor city. As if to demonstrate his health and resolve, returning to the hotel, the half-blind ex-president walked 400 meters at night, crossing one of the busiest avenues of Baltimore.

That's the sign of a strong fighting will.

"Capitalism and communism are materialistic by nature. So it's time to go beyond by (broadening) our moral horizon and discourse," Abdurrahman said, revealing the essence of his next project.

From Ciganjur, his residence in South Jakarta that he calls "the capital of democracy", he plans to embark on a moral movement through Yayasan Manusia Merdeka (Foundation of Free Human Beings), to challenge human rights violations.

That's the route he chooses to take to be the nation's guru.

The writer is a journalist with Radio Netherlands.