Who will break Soeharto's code of silence?

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.