Digest 88

Perils of a priestly president

25 November, 1999

 

They came before dawn, their faces blackened for combat. By noon they had lined up the men of the small village, unarmed farmers all, and mowed them down in a hail of bullets. For their religious teacher they reserved the grenade launcher at short range, thinking he might be mystically invulnerable. When his son threw himself upon his shattered father's body, they shot him as well.

Apart from the grenade launcher, the massacre could have happened in 1873, when Dutch-led troops first invaded Aceh and annexed it to what was to become Indonesia. The bloodbath at Blang Meurandeh on 23 July 1999 underscores the imperial nature of the Indonesian state.

With a few experiments along the way, that state has been centralised and non-democratic for over a hundred years. Each time democracy has been given a chance - in the 1950s, and now today - the regions have raised their hand for a say. Aceh is the most militant of regions. It is demanding wholesale change in the way Indonesia works for them.

For a moment, it looked as if a Jakarta under new management might do something creative about Aceh. The most striking new portfolio in President Wahid's cabinet is one for human rights. He filled it with an Acehnese activist.

Two weeks ago, after a huge pro-referendum rally in Aceh, Wahid said he would allow a referendum in Aceh by July 2000. He instructed several ministers to go there and prepare for a presidential visit. Combat troops were withdrawn, as riot police had been earlier on. He said he had talked with exiled Free Aceh leader Hasan di Tiro by phone, and the latter had cried and said he wanted to meet the Indonesian president.

Gus Dur is a priest. He believes deeply in goodwill and brotherhood. He has made an endearing habit of first spreading good vibes, and then not following through with action. It might work in a religious organisation, but it won't for a president handling a serious revolt in the regions. Just a month into his presidency, he has already promised more than he can deliver.

It turns out he did not speak with Hasan di Tiro in Sweden, but with a breakaway faction of the armed Free Aceh movement based in Malaysia. This more accommodating faction does not have as much influence in Aceh. Its rivals accuse it of making shady deals with Indonesian military intelligence.

The presidential visit, meanwhile, is off - he has gone to the Middle East, where commentators say he wants to hear assurances they will not back a free Aceh. The Acehnese will not be impressed.

Equally unimpressed, but for different reasons, are the military. For TNI, the bottom line is not brotherhood but territorial integrity. Their reluctance to let East Timor go will pale beside what they might do to prevent Aceh from going too.

Last week the top military spokesman, General Sudrajat, said Wahid's referendum offer was merely a 'private opinion'. They insist there will only be a vote on greater Islamic law, not on independence. They have made it clear they do not want human rights trials that are beyond their control. And, despite loud protests in parliament and the media, they do want martial law in at least parts of Aceh. The last time Aceh was under martial law, between 1990 and 1998, thousands died.

Perhaps to underscore the message, defence minister Juwono Sudarsono on Monday invoked the Pakistani coup. 'If civilian leaders aren't able to develop a healthy and independent political life, we will, sooner or later, return to a military-dominated role, just like in Pakistan and some African states,' he said.

Aceh is Indonesia's Chechnya. The metropolis has lost control over civil government in the province. Weapons are flowing freely. Like the once defeated Russians, the Indonesian army has now drawn a line in the sand against concessions.

President Wahid is not short of advice. Numerous opinion columns and parliamentary committees tell him the Acehnese want justice for past human rights abuses. But he is stuck in the same cleft stick as the rest of the Jakarta establishment. They don't like bloodshed, but they also won't yield to the regions. Even as disaster stares them in the face, they have no stomach for overhauling a centralised state that they feel has served them well.

If Gus Dur is not able to restrain the men of violence in Jakarta, then he cannot expect those Acehnese who want a peaceful resolution to retain their goodwill. If martial law is declared, the ensuing bloodbath will rob Gus Dur of his only political asset - his popularity - and could marginalise his presidency even before it finds its feet.

[This article appears in The Sydney Morning Herald, 26 November 1999]

Gerry van Klinken, editor, 'Inside Indonesia' magazine.