Who will break Soeharto's code of silence?

By Donna K. Woodward

MEDAN, North Sumatra (JP): It has finally begun. No doubt disgusted by the hypocrisy of Attorney General Andi Ghalib, someone privately sent documentation of his corruption to the Indonesian Corruption Watch.

But more than anonymous reports will be needed for the prosecution of the Soehartos for their corruption and human rights violations. Unlike the bumbling Ghalib, the Soehartos were cunning in their modus operandi. They concealed their assets while they still were in control. They wove webs that entrapped hundreds of complicitous officials and businesspeople.

Soeharto was clever enough not simply to steal: he colluded, making ministers, generals and company commissioners his partners in crime. Who, then, will want to come forward to give evidence against Soeharto, if by doing so they implicate themselves?

Recently, the United States media reported the vicious assault of a young Hispanic New Yorker by a white policeman. The only witnesses to the police officer's racist sadism were other officers. Who would testify honestly?

Like other military-like bureaucracies, the New York City Police Department (NYPD) has a strong culture of solidarity among its members. Officers entrust their lives to each other every day. They face life-threatening situations together, and sometimes die in each other's arms. In return, they expect the ultimate loyalty from one another.

The NYPD culture is one of solidarity and silence. If an officer is accused of a violation, other officers keep their unwritten pledge of loyalty and silence. Down the decades, this "blue wall of silence" permitted a subculture of abuse of authority, racism and corruption to pervade the police department.

But in the late 1960s, Officer Frank Serpico broke the wall of silence when he reported criminal complicity between police officers and drug dealers. His story made headlines and it made Hollywood. The sacrosanct code of silence, though not permanently destroyed, was irrevocably cracked. And when, earlier this year, the accused New York City police officer was brought to trial for his crimes against the Hispanic youth, fellow officers did testify truthfully, including some who as accessories to his crimes implicated themselves by doing so.

Who will break the Soeharto regime's code of silence?

Where is the minister or governor who will come forward and say forthrightly: "This is how it worked. This is how money was channeled to me from those who needed my signature, and this is how I was expected to channel money to Soeharto."

Who is the general who will speak courageously about what he witnessed or participated in, and who gave the orders? Which yayasan director will honestly admit how his foundation's funds were misused or misdirected to nonfoundation enterprises, and where the pressure came from for this misuse? What bank president will describe how Soeharto forced the approval of loans to his children and their companies? And what about that most despicable offense of all, the haj tax? Are there no parents or grandparents who will join their children as heroes of reform by speaking the truth?

To do so would be to put oneself metaphorically in the line of fire, as the students literally did. By testifying about their own roles in corruption, people could become liable to prosecution themselves, unless a form of immunity or amnesty were introduced. At the very least, shameful personal conduct would become public.

But let's be candid; those government and military officials who have sent their children to school overseas and purchased luxury cars and homes and furnishings and Rolex watches, ostensibly on government salaries, are not fooling anyone.

Neither are those who mysteriously accumulated enough capital to purchase businesses and properties which later gave them and their children a veneer of respectable wealth.

Whether we are considering an Andi Ghalib who was blinded enough by greed to receive a huge sum of money in a short time, or some director general who was discrete enough to pace the growth of his bank account more carefully, all thinking persons can deduce from where the wealth has come. From a career of corruption.

A person's brave public admission of past corruption would not really come as a surprise; have we not all been corrupt? What would be seen as remarkable would be the individual's courage. Courage emboldens. One person's act of courage will trigger others.

To reach Soeharto's crimes and his wealth, this is what is needed -- a growing chorus of truthful disclosures by former loyalists who know in their souls that the conspiracy of silence should end. The young leaders of the reform movement need the earlier generations' government, military and business leaders to join the movement. They need admissions: "I became a part of that system because it rewarded me and my family. I closed my eyes to all the dirty business I had to do. This is how it worked. Now I ask your forgiveness."

Your children will forgive you and venerate your final truthfulness. Sooner or later this will happen. Whose voice will be first? Who will enter Indonesian reform-era history as the man or woman who broke Soeharto's mafia-like code of silence?

The writer is president director of PT Far Horizons, Medan.