Wiranto, Susilo should speak out about the past
Wiranto, Susilo should speak out about the past
Aboeprijadi Santoso, Amsterdam
Two former generals both have a strong chance of becoming the
nation's new leader, even if they have blood on their hands.
The rise of these generals-turned-party-leaders, however, rests
on the shaky assumption that military leaders are more capable of
providing stability than civilian leaders.
"A retired general, reflecting on his brilliant past, had
forgotten how many souls he'd sent flying up to heaven -- Now, he
realized that he had also spilt quite a lot of blood... (He) was
still swimming in the rain. The water -- turned red. The general
was swimming in a sea of blood. The blood is red, general, he
said to himself."
This powerful passage from Seno Gumira Ajidarma's anthology
Eyewitness (1995, orig. 1994) reminds us that some generals,
while proud of their dedication to the nation, are acutely aware
of their painful past.
It is particularly poignant in the lead up to the presidential
election, as it refers to a generation of soldiers who were
ideologically raised by Soeharto's New Order, and lived through
two of the country's most bloody episodes i.e. the mass killings
of 1965-1966 and the situation in East Timor.
The story pointedly refers to East Timor -- a territory that
was occupied and almost single-handedly managed by the Army for
almost a quarter of century (1975-1999). For many officers, this
period was a rich source of experience and served as a key
steppingstone. Not all Army members should be burdened by this
legacy, but some are likely to have been involved in abuses.
However, given the lack of transparency of the military as an
organization, few details have emerged on "who did what, and on
whose instructions" in particular cases of atrocity and abuse,
including those possibly related to the two contenders for the
presidency, Gen. (ret.) Wiranto and Gen. (ret.) Susilo Bambang
Yudhoyono.
Sources provide a more complete picture of Wiranto than of
Susilo. Masters of Terror (2002) -- a profile of key suspects of
the 1999 violence in East Timor -- includes both men and
concludes that Wiranto was "ultimately responsible for everything
his soldiers did" as his men in the field "crop up in numerous
reports of abuses."
Early in 1999, the National Commission on Human Rights (Komnas
HAM) named Wiranto a main suspect. "Not just because of sins of
omission," Helmy Fauzi, a former staff member of Komnas HAM
insisted.
In Feb. 2003, the UN-sponsored special panel in Dili indicted
Wiranto on charges of war crimes against humanity. An
international warrant for his arrest "may be issued shortly,"
Dili prosecutor Nicholas Koumjian told Radio Netherlands
recently.
The case of Susilo is less clear. The timing of two of his
three missions in East Timor was crucial. In 1976 to 1977, he led
the Yonif-305 battalion to the district of Lautem to consolidate
the conquest of the territory following the Dec. 1975 invasion.
In the end, the conquest amounted to Indonesia's second biggest
massacre -- locally known as the "annihilation campaign" in
Matebian, Central East Timor -- which claimed about a third of
the local population. This was the result of several months of
military campaigns, confounded by bad harvests and an epidemic.
Another disaster happened in 1979, the year Susilo started his
second mission (1979-1981). As the Fretilin guerrilla collected
its supporters and their families, but were forced to evacuate
them to the mountain, the Army decided to launch a big campaign
to exterminate them.
In one case, up to 800 to 1000 guerrilla fighters and
civilians were killed in Lautem alone. However, according to
researcher Douglas Kammen, it has not been confirmed as yet that
the Susilo-led battalion of Yonif-Linud-330 was directly involved
in the atrocities.
Similarly, it was not clear exactly what Susilo's role was as
chief of staff of the regional command at the time of the
military assault against the Indonesian Democratic Party of
Struggle (PDI-P) headquarters in Jakarta, on July 27, 1996.
Susilo's darkest role, however, may be connected to Wiranto's
controversial involvement in East Timor, and it is particularly
important to explain how the scorched-earth campaign and mass
deportation of 1999 were organized.
By then, as chief of Territorial under Wiranto, Susilo was
formally responsible for the actions of regional and local
commanders. Analysts, however, view that two chains of command --
the formal i.e. territorial one, and special intelligence links
-- seem to have been at work. In any case, Wiranto and Susilo
should clarify the matter.
Susilo's career has generally been viewed in mixed terms as
the architect of both war and peace in Aceh, and of peace in Poso
and Ambon. But critics say, while the 2002 ceasefire in Aceh was
historic but short-lived (the rebels should be blamed too in this
respect), the war and martial law have been too costly in terms
of civilian lives, political and budgetary consequences.
Interestingly, the two former generals have successively been
at the helm of the security apparatus during the most critical
period post-Soeharto. No period since the 1960s killings has been
as continuously tense and bloody as the post-1998 series of
social protests, ethnic, political, religious, secessionist
warfare and independence struggles in various places across the
archipelago.
As chief of security in 1998-1999, Wiranto was not able to
halt the escalation of urban riots and violence in the capital.
Then, his failure to maintain peace in East Timor in Sept.
1999 embarrassed the nation, humiliated the corps and forced him
to allow foreign troop, the Interfet, to intervene in order to
help President B.J. Habibie save his credibility and the economy.
Susilo, in turn, has achieved more in Eastern Indonesia, but
not in Aceh.
In both cases, though, the impact of the war and social
dislocation has been tremendous. Sociologist Thamrin Tomagola has
argued for Maluku, that peace could have been more durable if it
incorporated local civil society instead of a state-imposed
accord. Indeed, peace and non-violence have often been
characteristic when civil elements hold sway.
This has been clearly manifested in the wake of the downfall
of Soeharto in Aceh during the two years of massive pro-
referendum rallies up to late 1999, and in Yogyakarta, when
people led by the sultan demanded changes. Non-violence was also
reported during that period as numerous village heads in Java
were forced to step down.
Violent upheavals in post-independence Indonesia mostly
involved Army elements, or were linked to intra Army rivalries at
national or local levels -- rather than characteristics inherent
to civilian leader. In other words, contrary to the popular myth
today, ex-military leaders do not automatically guarantee
stability. Instead, what matters most is the principle of
civilian supremacy, control and reform of the Army's territorial
structure.
That said, in the lead up to the presidential election, the
two ex-generals must confirm their records and accountability. If
they, unlike Seno's general, have the courage to speak out, that
would be a relief for the nation.
The writer is a Radio Netherlands journalist.