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Twenty candles for Inside Indonesia

How ever did we get through 20 years? And what does the future hold? Gerry van Klinken When Inside Indonesia was born in a Fitzroy restaurant in 1983, Suharto was at the height of his powers and East Timor solidarity organisations were beginning to settle in for the long haul. Twenty years later, Suharto is gone and East Timor is free. Looking back, what have we learnt (other than that it's hard yakka keeping a little magazine going)? What's next? It's tempting to flick through past editions and remember the highs and lows. The highs? Robert Domm's 1990 interview with Xanana in the mountains (#25 Dec 1990) has to be one, the whole Papuan edition (#67 Jul-Sep 2001) another. And the lows? Well there are a few that make my ears tingle to think of them. Let us know your candidates for the best and the worst. However, let us do this thematically. The magazine has always aimed to communicate, to report, and to take sides on Indonesian issues for non-Indonesian readers. To communicate you have to be interesting. A rule I once read in a book for magazine editors says every edition should have a little surprise. Terry Hull's 'Penis enhancements' (#69 Jan-Mar 2002) was one example, so was Emma Baulch on Bali's Generation X (#48 Oct-Dec 1996). We spend a fortune every edition on making the cover look good. The occasional offbeat travel story and interview goes down well. I thought Ciaran Harman's walk across Kalimantan was fabulous (#65 Jan-Mar 2001), so was Duncan Graham's profile of Rizza in Surabaya (#72 Oct-Dec 2002). Yes, there's the tourism exotica trap of making Indonesians look weirder than they really are. But it's a hard-bitten traveller who never catches themselves thinking 'what an amazing country this is.' The magazine wants to broaden horizons especially for people only recently interested in Indonesia. Young people today have less faith than previous generations in politics as a way of making the world a better place. Running intelligent travel and human-interest stories for them is part of the magazine's educational emphasis. I hope we can keep doing our best in this area. Far from falling into the tourism exotica trap, I suspect we slip too easily into the activist trap of taking ourselves too seriously. 'Mutual understanding and cooperation between the peoples of Indonesia and Australia and elsewhere' is the declared goal of Inside Indonesia. That calls for communication skills, but also for solid reportage. This is the heart of what Inside Indonesia has always been about. In 1983 credible information about Indonesia was scarce. The Indonesian government routinely issued misleading propaganda, its military often expelled foreign correspondents, and Australian newspapers carried little about the giant neighbour to the north. Academic researchers were denied permits, and activists were blacklisted. When I joined the board as editor in 1996 I learned that accurate, unbiased reporting was the most important thing they expected the magazine to do. Editorials were deliberately kept low-key, so the reportage could speak for itself. Of course we will never be a Far Eastern Economic Review. We couldn't even pay our authors. But several board members had university backgrounds like myself. Our academic networks provided a pool of talent. Lots of knowledgeable postgraduate students were only too pleased to share what they knew with a popular readership. And for nothing! I did often have to wrestle with them to drop jargon and agree to bolder titles. The quarterly format was good for their more thoughtful approach. Production times were too long for 'hot' news, but just right for the short essay. For years this reportage was so good that Indonesian students and activists themselves began to read the magazine. It was not produced primarily for them, but they found stuff there they couldn't get elsewhere. I recall seeing well-thumbed copies slumped on the library shelf at Satya Wacana University in Central Java in the 1980s. That all changed in 1998. The Indonesian press is now much freer. Australian newspapers also began to cover Indonesia in much greater depth - either excited by the mushrooming democratic movement, or driven by fears of the country's 'break-up'. The internet revolution came on strong about the same time as well. Inside Indonesia appeared online with a home-made design in late 1996. Indonesians are our biggest single group of readers. Whenever something big happens, like the war in Aceh, our access statistics take a leap. Less so our subscriptions, unfortunately. These big changes in Indonesia presented the magazine with a dilemma that came to a head early last year. One view within the board was that since Suharto was gone and East Timor was free, maybe the mag had served its purpose and should close. Money and time were also in short supply. Subscription income was really not enough - we have always needed gifts to survive. The young students and activists who started the magazine in 1983 were by now super-busy professors and managers. And we had more competition. The mainstream press was better at Indonesian reportage than before and new alternative magazines like Latitudes were appearing on the market. The other view was the opposite. Reformasi has been largely a failure. Indeed the horrible violence following Reformasi turned many westerners off the country altogether. The military destruction of East Timor, the Muslim-Christian fighting in Ambon, and especially the Bali bombing, caused Australian interest in Indonesia to plummet. Enrolments in language classes are down everywhere. 'I ask myself, do I really still like Indonesia�', a friend of mine who has studied Indonesian history for years told me not long ago. The question haunts many Indonesians too. There's no doubt that Indonesia has a serious self-image problem. And yet, and yet. Once we are there, most of us experience enough hospitality, hope and friendliness to counteract the worst pessimism. Is this really a good time to give up on trying to understand this vast country, where little is as it seems? Even today, the mainstream press gets it wrong all the time. Foreign correspondents almost never travel outside Jakarta, unless it is to a war zone. Some end up reflecting the prejudices of the diplomatic circuit. Fortunately, the second view prevailed. A new board took over from the old, some new money was found (not really enough), a system of rotating guest editors was invented, and the magazine is here for its 20th anniversary edition. If you'll forgive the hype, we still want to 'get behind the soundbite, the propaganda and the stereotypes to keep you informed about the real Indonesia'. We hope you share the vision. Taking sides is the third part of the magazine's aim. It is not the most obvious aim. No publication that claims to provide quality reportage wants to be predictable and easily put into an ideological box. This has made the issue of editorial orientation a little subterranean, but not undiscussed. The new board has spent a lot of time writing it all down for a new constitution. Indonesia still contains so much more potential for change than seems likely in the industrialised West. Believing in the creative potential of change keeps the magazine from falling into the tourism trap. The struggles for justice in Indonesia are multi-dimensional. They include struggles for economic equality in the face of capitalism, for environmental sustainability in the face of industrialism, for human rights and peace in the face of militarism, for gender justice in the face of all forms of sexual discrimination, and for cultural freedoms in the face of the authoritarian state. Though often related, each struggle has its own agendas and network of activists. Indonesia's political parties have so far proved fairly clueless advocates of these emancipatory agendas. They are being carried by young people who often organise through non-government organisations or through less structured forums. Inside Indonesia wants to be there for them, to help get their message out. The aim is to rotate through the various themes regularly. Hence the recent editions on the environment (#65 Jan-Mar 2001), gender (#66 Apr-Jun 2001), the arts (#64 Oct-Dec 2000), and on the poor (#69 Jan-Mar 2002). But things happen unexpectedly. We dumped another edition on the arts after the Bali bombing, for example, and that wasn't the first time. One big question I would like us to look at is 'what have people learned from 1998?'. The establishment in Indonesia and overseas often behaves as if Reformasi was a success and Indonesia is now a democratic country. The groups that worked for change in 1998 feel the opposite - that their work has been a failure. It is not hard to see why. The war in Aceh looks remarkably like the invasion of East Timor in 1975. Religious and ethnic violence in some areas has wrecked an emerging democracy. Many activists have gone back to work almost as if nothing has happened to interrupt the rhythm. A younger generation was too young in 1998 to have even been there! Some older ones have become disillusioned, like East Germans after the fall of the Berlin wall in 1989. What went wrong? How will democracy activists create opportunities in the future? I don�t think any of us believe that Indonesia is 'by nature' violent or authoritarian. But most people who were there in 1998 would probably now say they were naive to expect that change was as easy as getting rid of Suharto. Gerry van Klinken (editor@insideindonesia.org) is coordinating editor ofInside Indonesia.

74: In the wake of the bombing

April-June 2003 Islam and the bomb In the wake of the bombingPeacebuilding in the wake of terror - Emma Baulch My pesantren, Darur Ridwan Life in an East Javanese Islamic boarding school - Mayra Walsh Tall tales Conspiracy theories in post-bomb Indonesia - Greg Fealy Preaching fundamentalism The public teachings of Abu Bakar Ba'asyir - Tim Behrend Post-bomb politics A hybrid order No joy for extremists in post-bomb Indonesia - Ed Aspinall Taken by surprise The Bali bombings reveal the failings of Australian-Indonesian intelligence co-operations - David Wright Neville Balinese recoveries Sustainable recovery Balinese people favour green initiatives in recovery effort - Christine Foster Renegotiate the debt! Civil society intervenes in multilateral aid meeting - Ngurah Karyadi Back to the roots After the bomb, community tourism needs a boost - Sherry Kasman Entus Ritual, politics and tourism Ritual purification ceremonies have dominated Balinese recovery efforts - Graeme MacRae Puppeteers on wheels An innovative shadow puppet show combats post-traumatic stress disorder in Bali - Rucina Ballinger Opinion A moderate majority A deep local tradition of tolerance defends against militancy - The Hon. Justice Marcus Einfeld Politics and Human Rights Notes from a 'five star' prison cell Life in an Acehnese jail - Lesley McCulloch How to make peace Civilians demand a part in Aceh's peace process - Kautsar Making peace newsworthy Indonesian journalists attend a peace journalism training workshop in Manado - Jake Lynch Stand your ground A radio series gives voice to East Timorese stories of resistance to Indonesian occupation - Matt Abud Regulars Bookshop Your say Inside Indonesia 74: Apr-Jun 2003

73: A Militarised Society

Jan-Mar 2003 Terrorism A Militarised SocietyIndonesia today is a dangerous place primarily for Indonesians, not foreigners The Bali Bombing Understanding the tragedy beyond al-Qaeda and Bush's 'war on terror' - Thomas Reuter The insecurity forces Security Disorders Sending Troops is not Going to Solve Regional Conflicts - Douglas Kammen What's Wrong With Freeport's Security Policy? A report by a human rights organisation in West Papua - Institute for Human Rights Study and Advocacy (Elsham) Brawling, Bombing, and 'Backing' The Security Forces as a Source of Insecurity - John Roosa Doing Daily Battle Street children face police and security guards - Rikah and Dede Civilian Militias The Model Militia A new security force in Bali is cloaked in tradition - Degung Santikarma Self-reliant militias Homegrown security forces wield great power in Lombok - John M. MacDougall Putting the (Para)Military Back Into Politics The 'taskforces' of the political parties - Phil King Military business Plundering the Sea Regulating trawling companies is difficult when the navy is in business with them - Brian Fegan On the Waterfront The Military Fleeces and Polices Port Workers - Razif The militarys legacy Evading the Truth Will a Truth and Reconciliation Commission ever be formed? - Agung Putri Not Fade Away A General of the Sukarno years criticises today's military - Muhammad Fauzi The Endless Wait Families of the Disappeared are Still Searching for Answers - R. Waluya Jati Review James Bond Jakarta Style Regulars Letters Newsbriefs Bookshop On the web Inside Indonesia 73: Jan-Mar 2003

72: Give press freedom a chance

Oct-Dec 2002 Media Give freedom of the press a chance Indonesia's free press needs time to mature - Lukas Luwarso 'You wan see jiggy-jig?' Getting hot under the collar over Indonesian pornography - Justine Fitzgerald Consuming passions Millions of Indonesians must watch soap operas - Amrih Widodo Radioactive Radio has undergone a revolution since Suharto resigned - Edwin Jurriens Exchanging news, bridging isolation The 68H network brings people closer together - Santoso Getting connected The struggle to get Indonesia online - Onno Purbo Eliana Eliana: independent cinema? A new wave of Indonesian films - Joanne Sharpe A town like Malang A new local press must struggle to survive when the novelty of autonomy wanes - Kirrilee Hughes Power to the people Indonesians are seeking a public voice through radio - Rebecca Henschke Politics and human rights Law, globalisation and military terror Civil cases are combating corporate impunity - Richard Tanter Who is calling for Islamic Law? The struggle to implement Islamic Law in South Sulawesi - Dias Pradadimara and Burhaman Junedding Peace for Poso Highlighting the state's role may help stop the Poso conflict - Syamsul Alam Agus Culture A love of language Unable to pay for formal lessons, many poor Indonesians have mastered English through radio, TV and film. Like Rizza of Surabaya. - Duncan Graham Reformasi killed the poetry superstars Two poets tour Australia - Marshall Clark and Giora Eliraz Two visionaries of Indonesian theatre Two directors resided in an intercultural realm - Ian Brown Regulars Behind the Postcolonial: Architecture, Urban Space, and Political Cultures in IndonesiaReview: Abidin Kusno examines trends in architectural design and urban planning in Jakarta - Julie Shackford-Bradley Newsbriefs Bookshop Inside Indonesia 72: Oct-Dec 2002

71: Outside Indonesia - East Timor

July-Sept 2002 East Timor Outside Indonesia - East TimorThis edition goes out with our best wishes to the East Timorese people - Gerry van Klinken Born in the wrong era Amidst globalisation, can East Timor still be a people's alternative? - Mansour Fakih Timor's women After the brutal occupation, gender violence remains a reality - Dawn Delaney A sustainable future How will East Timor manage its economy? - Helder da Costa What about the workers? Now is the time to create a fairer system - Selma Hayati Australian treachery, again This time it's over oil and gas royalti - Rob Wesley Smith Meet Titi Irawati An Indonesian human rights worker in East Timor - Kerry Brogan The Indonesian who joined Falintil Why did Nasir join the guerrillas? - M Nasir, interviewed by Nug Katjasungkana One less place to hide US courts bring down judgments against two Indonesian generals - John M Miller Claiming justice amid the ruins A remarkable grass-roots reconciliation meeting in Ainaro - Hilmar Farid The Oecussi-Ambeno enclave What does the future hold for this neglected territory? - Arsenio Bano and Edward Rees The forgotten of West Timor Poverty, refugees, militias, and too many soldiers - Elcid Li By the book, please East Timorese students in Yogyakarta suffer intimidation - Faustino Gomes,/p> Politics and human rights Is Indonesia a terrorist base? The gulf between rhetoric and evidence is wide - Greg Fealy Combat zone Aceh is the military?s stepping stone back to power - David Bourchier Witness denied Australian media responses to the Indonesian killings of 1965-66 - Richard Tanter Culture Theatre blossoms A sampling of performances in Java - Julie Janson Resources East Timor on the Net The latest on this new nation at your fingertips - John M Miller Regulars Your Say Newsbriefs Bookshop Inside Indonesia 71: July - Sept 2002

70: Peace: The legacy of Herb Feith

April-June 2002 Politics and Human Rights The legacy of Herb Feith The theme of this edition is 'peace and international collaboration', the two leading ideas of Herb's later years - Gerry van Klinken Indonesia - US military ties September 11th and after - Kurt Biddle The life and death of Theys Eluay The murdered Papuan leader was an ambiguous figure - At Ipenburg BP and the Tangguh test A multi-billion dollar gas project in a remote Papuan bay needs scrutiny - Down to Earth Culture Revolution of hope Independent films are young, free and radical - Katinka van Heeren Do-it-yourself freedomHow to escape the mainstream, big money, newspaper thought police - Alexandra Crosby Peace and cooperation Celebrate for peace Reclaiming public ritual can help resolve conflict - Taufik Rahzen We are all one How custom overcame religious rivalry in Southeast Maluku - P M Laksono Between war and peace An insider speaks about peace negotiations on Aceh - Otto Syamsuddin Ishak Aceh negotiation ups and downs Waiting for peace in Poso Why has this Muslim-Christian conflict continued for three years? - Lorraine V Aragon Is reconciliation sleeping with the devil? The dilemmas of negotiating an end to conflict - Vanessa Johanson Australians volunteer The history of Australian Volunteers International begins in Indonesia - Peter Britton Antidote to parochialism - Herb Feith The first volunteer Herb Feith, who began it all 50 years ago, inspires a new volunteer - Rachael Diprose Herb Feith Bush, Osama and the planet - Bill Liddle and Herb Feith Ideas man Herb Feith's search for better mental road maps to a complex Indonesia - Jamie Mackie A syncretistic Jew Learning from Indonesian religious experience - Herb Feith Resources Peace on the net Regulars Your say Bookshop Inside Indonesia 70: Apr-Jun 2002

69: The poor first

Jan-Mar 2002 The Poor The poor firstWe dedicate this edition to the poor, and to those enquiring minds who want to learn about them - Gerry van Klinken Dirty debtRich countries share responsibility for Indonesia's impossible debt burden - Ann Pettifor Crisis and poverty Four years later, how has the economic crisis affected the poor? - Anne Booth The story of Mimin Surviving thirty years in Central Jakarta - Lea Jellinek and Ed Kiefer Jakarta's poorest Lea Jellinek Whose city? The street traders who feed and transport Jakarta are also its most unwelcome citizens - Vanessa Johanson Whatever it takes Workers, often women, take risks to earn an honest living - Michele Ford Singapore girl? Indonesian maids in Singapore want to be heard - Noorashikin Abdul Rahman Land for the people Farmers in East Java are still working land they took three years ago - Sukardi The Twin Towers Effect The democracy movement must now challenge international capital - Revrisond Baswir Take the money or die A flood of 'democratisation' dollars has corrupted the NGO movement - Anu Lounela Culture Penis enhancements Popular with sailors and miners, but not necessarily with their women - Terence H Hull Scunge City. And yet.... What the guide books don't tell you about Surabaya - Duncan Graham Politics and Human Rights Osama bin Cool What do Indonesian students think about Osama bin Laden? - Katie Brayne The aftermath of civil war Fighting has stopped in North Maluku, but mistrust lingers - Christopher R Duncan With Aceh's guerrillas A rare visit with the Free Aceh Movement shows them confident and well organised - Damien Kingsbury One world still After the tragedy of 11 September, the world needs dialogue - Ulil Abshar-Abdalla Regulars Newsbriefs Your say Bookshop Inside Indonesia 69: Jan-Mar 2002

68: Rewriting history

Oct-Dec 2001 Politics and Human Rights Ethnic fascism in Borneo Old elites in Central Kalimantan discover new and dangerous strategies - Gerry van Klinken Laskar Jihad A spiritual home for the lost, this militant sect is used by dangerous elites for their own ends - IRIP News Service Mother of the nation For now, reformasi is dead. But Mega didn't kill it - Edward Aspinall Radical or reformist? How Islamic will the new movements make Indonesia? - Bernhard Platzdasch The return of 'Shock therapy' Overseas friends stand by persecuted Acehnese human rights workers - Signe Poulsen Rewriting history Whitlam knew Indonesian military intelligence kept Australia fully informed (and complicit) in its 1975 East Timor invasion plans - Paul Monk Out of the black hole After the New Order, the lid on Indonesia's past is beginning to lift - Hilmar Farid The first Asian boat people Strange things began to happen when Indonesian refugees came to Australia during World War II - Jan Lingard Romo Mangun Tribute to a multi-talented, national figure - Catherine Mills For kicks The history of football is a history of Indonesia itself - Freek Colombijn A soldier's historian New Order generals needed new history books. Nugroho Notosusanto was their man. - Kate McGregor The Suharto Museum What gifts did Aussie prime ministers bestow on President Suharto? - Pam Allen Merdeka! Indonesian poems selected by Harry Aveling Rebel rises from the dead Sulawesians believe that Qahhar, their rebel hero, has risen again - Andi Faisal Bakti Untold stories On the other side of 1965 lay a vibrant Indonesia worth remembering - Ann Laura Stoler Regulars Water, land, and SuhartoReview: Both books illustrate how the Suharto family exploited Indonesia - Ron Witton Historical Atlas of IndonesiaReview: Robert Cribb's Historical Atlas is breathtaking in its scope and presentation - Ron Witton Your say Bookshop Newsbriefs Inside Indonesia 68: Oct-Dec 2001

Water, land, and Suharto

Review: Both books illustrate the way the Suharto family exploited Indonesia Ron Witton In 1625 Sultan Agung of the East Javanese kingdom of Mataram conquered Surabaya by besieging the city and poisoning its water supply by throwing rotting animal carcasses in the Brantas River that flows into the city. The first book under review is a tale of what happened 350 years later, when the people of Surabaya again faced a poisoned water supply. This time, it was caused by New Order 'development' industries on the river banks, dumping their toxic effluent into the Brantas. The way the book describes local authorities and NGOs fighting valiantly throughout the New Order period to oppose the rich and powerfully connected is quite gripping. After the Suharto era, environmental politics flourished as they never could before. The title refers to a traditional community attitude that always saw the river as an easy way of getting rid of rubbish. Disaster results when chemical firms and other highly polluting industries adopt the same attitude. A wonderful collection of cartoons from Surabaya's surprisingly outspoken newspapers illustrates the struggle over the city's water supply. The second book documents two case studies where the land of ordinary people was alienated by the New Order's elite. In one, it became golf links for the rich. In the other, a cattle ranch for Suharto. The story highlights the bravery of those ordinary people who dared to speak out. Doomed to failure under the New Order, they can now at last hope for justice. This book, perhaps, marks the beginning of that process. Both books illustrate the way the Suharto family exploited Indonesia. In one, we read of Suharto's ranch. In the other, Tommy Suharto's water pipeline company defaulted its contractual obligations with impunity, and thus managed to extract vast sums of money from the Surabaya provincial government. Anton Lucas with Arief Djati, The dog is dead, so throw it in the river: Environmental politics and water pollution in Indonesia, Clayton: Monash Asia Institute, 2000, 152pp, ISBN 0732611814. Dianto Bachriadi and Anton Lucas, Merampas tanah rakyat: Kasus Tapos dan Cimacan [Plundering the people's land: The Tapos and Cimacan cases], Jakarta: Gramedia, 2001, 360pp, ISBN 9799023440. Dr Ron Witton (rwitton@uow.edu.au) has taught social science in Australia, Indonesia, Fiji and Malaysia. Inside Indonesia 68: Oct - Dec 2001

Water, land, and Suharto

Review: Both books illustrate the way the Suharto family exploited Indonesia

67: West Papua: towards a new Papua

July - Sept 2001 Politics and Human Rights West Papua: towards a new PapuaThis edition wants to be a forum for ideas on Papuan independence - Gerry van Klinken From the ashes of empire Papua needs a clear political vision and be ready for the long haul - John Rumbiak Where nationalisms collide History is central to the politics of West Papua - Richard Chauvel Towards a New Papua When they hear the sacred texts of the church, Papuans see a better future - Benny Giay Self-determination or territorial integrity? There is growing international concern over West Papua - Nic Maclellan The backlash Jakarta's secret strategy to deal with Papuan nationalism - Richard Chauvel Freeport's troubled future Without Suharto, who will protect Freeport from itself? - Denise Leith Action in Europe What are Europeans doing about Papua? - Siegfried Zöllner and Feije Duim Bravo the cat Life among Papuan and Timorese political prisoners in Jakarta - Jacob Rumbiak, with Louise Byrne Box - Mama Yosefa wins a GoldmanA Papuan activist wins a prestigious prize for her work on the environment - Agung Rulianto Papua - The Indonesian debate What does the public in Jakarta think? - Peter King Box - Special Autonomy Main points of the 76-clause draft special autonomy law for Papua To end impunity How Indonesia responds to human rights abuse in Papua is the measure of reform elsewhere - Lucia Withers The bronze Asmat warrior Contemporary art in Papua is about new and contested identities - Robyn Roper Remembering Sam Kapissa He was a wood carver, musician, and mover and shaker for the arts on Biak - Danilyn Rutherford Inside the Special Autonomy Bill Chronology of a remarkable process - Agus Sumule But is it democratic? Indonesian democrats have mixed feelings about Papua's independence drive - Stanley Mama Papua Beatrix Koibur explains why Christianity is important to Papuan women - Annie Feith The ethnic factor Christianity, curly hair, and human dignity - Nico Schulte Nordholt Regulars Papua on the Net Letters Newsbriefs Inside Indonesia 67: Jul-Sep 2001

66: The politics of gender

April-June 2001 Politics and Human Rights The politics of genderThis edition highlights Indonesia's women and men - and its gays, lesbians, bissu and other genders - Gerry van Klinken The new conservatives Golkar and PDIP parliamentarians join forces to pull down Gus Dur - Gerry van Klinken Box - The new conservatives Gus Dur's troubles - timeline Groundhog Day Defence planners wake up and find Asia is (still) a threat - Simon Philpott Peace journalism in Poso When reporting ethnic conflict, journalists can make a difference - Jake Lynch and Annabel McGoldrick Aceh will not lie down A new generation of victims speaks out. Will Indonesia now negotiate? - Lesley McCulloch Don't let them drown Australia must be a good global citizen towards refugees who transit Indonesia - Anita Roberts Culture Wisanggeni, Ned Kelly, and Tommy A new novel explores the ambiguous role of the outlaw in today's Indonesia - Marshall Clark Women and Men Out in front This energetic cabinet minister wants more power for women, fast - Vanessa Johanson talks with Khofifah Indar Parawansa Women and the nation Throughout its history, outsiders wanted the women's movement to be nationalist first of all. Now women are finding their own voice - Susan Blackburn Box - Women and the nationRifka Annisa - Wineng Endah Jakarta women's barefoot bank Poor kampung women double their income through their own micro-credit scheme - Lea Jellinek Gay men in the reformasi era Homophobic violence could be a by-product of the new openness - Dédé Oetomo Quo vadis, lesbians? Lesbians want to be themselves - Bunga Jeumpa and Ulil Sex in the city Between girl power and the mother image, young urban women struggle for identity - Yatun Sastramidjaja Sulawesi's fifth gender What if there were not just two genders, but five? In Indonesia, there are - Sharyn Graham Left-over from death Timorese women raped by Indonesian militias need justice. So do all the other women who survived New Order abuse - Galuh Wandita Regulars Bookshop Your Say Marrying up in Bali Review: Tarian bumi is the story of four generations of Balinese women - Pamela Allen Newsbriefs Inside Indonesia 66: April-June 2001

Box- The new conservatives

Gus Dur's troubles 10-13 November, 1998 - The first superparliament (MPR) session after Suharto resigns fails to address fundamental reform issues. 20 October, 1999 - Abdurrahman Wahid, backed by only a small party of his own, is appointed the compromise president by an unstable coalition of mostly New Order parties. 30 January, 2000 - Gus Dur visits Geneva and paves the way for an internationally mediated 'humanitarian pause' in Aceh, signed 12 May. 13 February, 2000 - Gus Dur sacks Gen Wiranto, his coordinating minister for politics and security and responsible for the East Timor mayhem. This removes the army from top government. 28 February, 2000 - At Gus Dur's insistence, Lt-Gen Agus Wirahadikusumah is appointed Kostrad elite force commander. Agus was seen as a liberal - too liberal for his military superiors, who managed to have him removed again on 31 July. 21 March, 2000 - Gus Dur hits headlines till the end of April with his proposal to allow communist ideas again, banned since 1966. No parliamentarian agrees with him. 24 April, 2000 - Gus Dur sacks Laksamana Sukardi, a competent minister, from an economic portfolio, apparently because of pressure from 'black conglomerate' Texmaco that Laksamana was pursuing. 29 May-4 June, 2000 - Papuan Congress, partly paid for by Gus Dur's government. 7 August, 2000 - Gus Dur's accountability speech to super-parliament (MPR) is severely criticised by all party fractions but one. 28 August, 2000 - The main defendant in the US$57 million Bank Bali corruption scandal (allegedly involving a 1999 Golkar election slush fund) is acquitted, leading to cries of continued judicial corruption. All other defendants are acquitted later. 14 September, 2000 - A military-style car bomb explodes at the Jakarta Stock Exchange, killing 15, the day before Suharto's trial resumes. More bombs explode at other times, including dozens all over Indonesia on Christmas Eve. 26 September, 2000 - Tommy Suharto is sentenced to 18 months jail for corruption, but he goes into hiding before police eyes. 28 September, 2000 - A court declares Suharto medically unfit to stand trial for corruption. No other Suharto family members face charges. Early October, 2000 - State Audit Agency (BPK) says 96% of Rp 144.5 trillion (US$14 billion) of public recapitalisation funds to 42 sick post-crisis banks was improperly used. 1 February, 2001 - Parliament (DPR) passes a censure motion against Gus Dur over two alleged cases of corruption ('Buloggate' and 'Bruneigate') totalling US$6 million. Inside Indonesia 66: April-June 2001

Box- The new conservatives

Gus Dur's troubles

65: The environment

Jan - Mar 2001 Environment The environment Now that the New Order is gone, how is the environment faring?- Gerry van Klinken Mine thy neighbour The Australian government needs to control Australian miners - Jeff Atkinson Suharto's fires Suharto cronies control an ASEAN-wide oil palm industry - George J Aditjondro Saving Bunaken Locals are saving one of the world's most beautiful marine parks - Mark V Erdmann Indorayon's last gasp? Popular protest closes a huge paper and pulp mill in Sumatra - Frances Carr Get your act together, Aussie! Without Suharto, an Australian gold mining company is having trouble - Jeff Atkinson Kalimantan's peatland disaster Greed and stupidity destroy the last peatland wilderness - Jack Rieley Reformasi and Riau's forests Government struggles with 'people power', poverty and pulp - Lesley Potter and Simon Badcock In the forests of the night Living with tigers in South Aceh - John McCarthy Politics and Human Rights Looking back to move forward A Truth Commission could bring healing for a tragic past - Mary S Zurbuchen Inside the Laskar Jihad An interview with the leader of a new, radical and militant sect - Greg Fealy Tribute to a proud Acehnese Jafar Siddiq Hamzah died defending dialogue and human rights - Sidney Jones Constitutional Tinkering The search for consensus is taking time - Blair A King Society and Economy Future Indonesia 2010 What will Indonesia look like in 2010? - Dedy A Prasetyo Travel Pak Rabun and the wilderness Across Kalimantan by boat and on foot - Ciaran Harman Regulars Your say Newsbriefs Nathaniel's NutmegReview: How one man's courage changed the course of history - Ron Witton Bookshop Inside Indonesia 65: Jan-Mar 2001

64: Artists and activists

Oct - Dec 2000 Culture Artists and activistsThe late novelist YB Mangunwijaya coined the phrase 'post-Indonesian generation'. - Gerry van Klinken Naked truth Young artists rebel against the political crisis - M Dwi Marianto Letter from Makassar Artists rebuild community identity - Halim HD Confused? Directions in post-New Order theatre - Lauren Bain Punks for peace Underground music - the voice of young people - Jo Pickles Of pigs, puppets and protest Radical Yogyakarta artists get among the people - Heidi Arbuckle Skin signatures Tattoos are the fad of today's teenagers - Megan Baker Meet Semsar An interview with an artist and activist - Yvonne Owens with Semsar Siahaan The Theft of Sita A joint Australian-Indonesian performance bursts boundaries - Robin Laurie Politics and Human Rights View from the top Exclusive interview with the president - Greg Barton with Abdurrahman Wahid Making Indonesia work for the people Chusnul Mar'iyah thrives on controversy - Peter King Busy girl Chusnul Mar'iyah and the NGO scene - Peter King Women and the war in Aceh Women want to silence all the guns - Suraiya Kamaruzzaman A different freedom Islamic rebellion in Aceh and Mindanao is not so irrational - Jacqueline Aquino Siapno Blood on the map A conference on recent violence in Indonesia - Jemma Purdey Society and Economy Land for the landless Why 'democrats' in Jakarta aren't interested in land reform - Dianto Bachriadi 'Run my child' Mukti-Mukti sings protest songs about land - Anton Lucas Travel One Crater Sulphur miners risk their lives on an active volcano - Ciaran Harman Regulars Your Say Newsbriefs Bookshop Inside Indonesia 64: Oct-Dec 2000

One Crater

Sulphur miners risk their lives on an active volcano. How do they do it? Ciaran Harman Agus Alam turned from watching me struggle up towards him, and looked down the mountainside beside the steep path to the squares of rice fields far below. Beyond him, the stubby grey-treed slope, folding and unfolding like a fan, was cut with a path like a fault-line. The first miners were beginning the first descent of the day down it from the smoky crater high above. Slung across their backs were woven baskets filled to the brim with brilliant yellow ore. Sulphur. In Kawah Ijen (One Crater), far eastern East Java, sulphur ore is mined by hand from an active volcanic crater. On a break from my studies in Yogyakarta in April, I took the night bus heading out that way with vague intentions of photojournalism and trying to understand what a life of hard physical labour would be like. I came back knowing only that I would probably never be able to understand the lives the people I saw, and that to write about them here as though I did would be a flat-out lie. Java's buckled spine of volcanoes, from Krakatau off the west coast to Gunung Merapi and Kawah Ijen in the far east, form part of the 'ring of fire' that surrounds the Pacific Ocean. Earlier, as my motorcycle taxi buzzed towards the volcano and up its slopes, I had seen the nearby peaks by the vast triangles of stars they blotted out in the pre-dawn sky. Now the sun was feeling its way across the slopes, slowly unfolding them to me, yet leaving so much hidden. I had caught up with Agus as I began up the path that led from the end of the road and the weigh station where the transport truck was parked. It was 3km up to the crater rim. Short and simple hair, a dirty tee shirt, shorts and thongs; he was in his twenties, about my age or younger, and walked slowly, unwillingly. It was his first day as a sulphur miner. Agus Alam quietly answered my questions as we ascended. He said he had come to work as a miner for the same reasons his father had many years before. They were poor and owned no land. Agus told me how every day his father left their home well before dawn to walk almost 20km from their village to the crater. Sometimes he stayed away for a couple of weeks and lived on the mountain in a shack shared with other miners. Agus would only ever see his father in daylight on the days he was too sick or tired to work. Ailments His father, I imagined, suffered from many of the ailments I was told are common to those who work in the sulphur clouds. Bad eyes, sore lungs, teeth corroded from the acid fumes. Agus must have known that he too would develop the calluses on his shoulders where up to 100kg of sulphur was balanced for three descents from the crater every day. He said he hoped not to work there long. You could earn a fair bit of money, especially if you were strong. The miners were paid for the weight they carried: about Rp200 (less than 5 cents) a kilo. He would save enough, perhaps, to buy a motorbike and cart around the throngs of tourists that come to see the crater and snap pictures of themselves and a miner in the dry season. But Agus carried his fear as a burden up the mountain, just as later he would carry those yellow rocks down, the load measured with every step. We came to a station on the path where the sulphur is weighed and the miners' shacks stand that Agus had told me about. In one shack, before my eyes became used to the gloom, it seemed as though stars surrounded me. I remembered for a moment the stars that had been blotted out from the night sky by the mountains. These pinpoints of light, however, turned out to be a thousand holes in the walls and roof. I wondered what the miners did when it rained. They would never be able to avoid a drip from the ceiling or a draught from the walls. The black soot coating everything and the pile of wood in the corner bore testament to the way they staved off the cold and clogged their lungs with smoke at the same time. Up the path the vegetation began to thin out. There was less lush green. The trees were getting greyer and the undergrowth withered to a scrubby, stunted tangle. And then, as I turned a corner in the path, just by where an old miner had stopped to adjust his load of brilliant yellow rocks, I was there. It was as though the peak of the mountain had been struck and shattered. The grey, gaping wound was filled with a grey, steaming lake. The crater rim, jagged like torn paper, encircled it. I could smell the sulphur; I could see it too. Yellow steam roared out of vents in the rock below me. It twisted upward and was carried east by the morning breeze. To the west, up an invisible path through the exploded landscape, the miners ascended, visible only by the way their burdens flared against the dead landscape. It was like Jacob's Ladder in reverse. But these were men, not angels or devils. Gas would drift over me and I would be reduced to a hacking, coughing mess between the grey rocks. My descent into this pit was graceless. The miners, balancing the baskets of ore on their shoulders, knew where to place their sandaled feet. They heaved their way up the occasionally vertical route to the rim. I clambered over boulders and slid across sections of gravelly stones, thankful I had my steel-capped work-boots on. The path seemed to go on forever. The rim thrust up above me like a wall. I crossed a stream of hot water where a miner washed the yellow from his hands and then I was at the mine face. The sulphur vents were far above me. Spilling down from them was a wall of congealed sulphur ore, that brilliant, noxious yellow. Pipes had been built to capture some of the gas and carry it down the slope and let it sweep back up, aiding the process of congealment. The miners would climb up by the pipes and break off the ore, their eyes and lungs stinging from the fumes. By the time I got there though, most of the miners had gone. Just a few old men were left, making artificial sulphur stalactites for tourists by getting the sulphur to congeal on twigs and leaves. I would have to go soon, they said. The wind was about to change and blow the gas westward, over the path to the rim. I watched the rushing steam and the dead lake for a while and then climbed back up the crater wall. Occasionally the gas would drift over me and I would be reduced to a hacking, coughing mess between the grey rocks. I can never place my feet in their sandals and walk that ruptured path to the rim. I can't tell you what it is like to wonder if one more rock will feed your family or break your back. All I can do is tell you of the shadows of desperate men I saw up there. Some old, trapped in a job that will destroy their health and perhaps ultimately kill them, but that provides for their families, as long as they keep carrying ore. Some young, with their eyes constantly turned down the slopes, working at the mine only so that, one day, they will not have to any more. Ciaran Harman (ciaran69@hotmail.com) is a student at the University of Western Australia in Perth. He was participating in the Acicis Study Indonesia Program in Yogyakarta. Inside Indonesia 64: Oct - Dec 2000

One Crater

Sulphur miners risk their lives on an active volcano. How do they do it? Ciaran Harman Agus Alam turned from watching me struggle up towards him, and looked down the mountainside beside the steep path to the squares of rice fields far below. Beyond him, the stubby grey-treed slope, folding and unfolding like a fan, was cut with a path like a fault-line. The first miners were beginning the first descent of the day down it from the smoky crater high above. Slung across their backs were woven baskets filled to the brim with brilliant yellow ore. Sulphur. In Kawah Ijen (One Crater), far eastern East Java, sulphur ore is mined by hand from an active volcanic crater. On a break from my studies in Yogyakarta in April, I took the night bus heading out that way with vague intentions of photojournalism and trying to understand what a life of hard physical labour would be like. I came back knowing only that I would probably never be able to understand the lives the people I saw, and that to write about them here as though I did would be a flat-out lie. Java's buckled spine of volcanoes, from Krakatau off the west coast to Gunung Merapi and Kawah Ijen in the far east, form part of the 'ring of fire' that surrounds the Pacific Ocean. Earlier, as my motorcycle taxi buzzed towards the volcano and up its slopes, I had seen the nearby peaks by the vast triangles of stars they blotted out in the pre-dawn sky. Now the sun was feeling its way across the slopes, slowly unfolding them to me, yet leaving so much hidden. I had caught up with Agus as I began up the path that led from the end of the road and the weigh station where the transport truck was parked. It was 3km up to the crater rim. Short and simple hair, a dirty tee shirt, shorts and thongs; he was in his twenties, about my age or younger, and walked slowly, unwillingly. It was his first day as a sulphur miner. Agus Alam quietly answered my questions as we ascended. He said he had come to work as a miner for the same reasons his father had many years before. They were poor and owned no land. Agus told me how every day his father left their home well before dawn to walk almost 20km from their village to the crater. Sometimes he stayed away for a couple of weeks and lived on the mountain in a shack shared with other miners. Agus would only ever see his father in daylight on the days he was too sick or tired to work. Ailments His father, I imagined, suffered from many of the ailments I was told are common to those who work in the sulphur clouds. Bad eyes, sore lungs, teeth corroded from the acid fumes. Agus must have known that he too would develop the calluses on his shoulders where up to 100kg of sulphur was balanced for three descents from the crater every day. He said he hoped not to work there long. You could earn a fair bit of money, especially if you were strong. The miners were paid for the weight they carried: about Rp200 (less than 5 cents) a kilo. He would save enough, perhaps, to buy a motorbike and cart around the throngs of tourists that come to see the crater and snap pictures of themselves and a miner in the dry season. But Agus carried his fear as a burden up the mountain, just as later he would carry those yellow rocks down, the load measured with every step. We came to a station on the path where the sulphur is weighed and the miners' shacks stand that Agus had told me about. In one shack, before my eyes became used to the gloom, it seemed as though stars surrounded me. I remembered for a moment the stars that had been blotted out from the night sky by the mountains. These pinpoints of light, however, turned out to be a thousand holes in the walls and roof. I wondered what the miners did when it rained. They would never be able to avoid a drip from the ceiling or a draught from the walls. The black soot coating everything and the pile of wood in the corner bore testament to the way they staved off the cold and clogged their lungs with smoke at the same time. Up the path the vegetation began to thin out. There was less lush green. The trees were getting greyer and the undergrowth withered to a scrubby, stunted tangle. And then, as I turned a corner in the path, just by where an old miner had stopped to adjust his load of brilliant yellow rocks, I was there. It was as though the peak of the mountain had been struck and shattered. The grey, gaping wound was filled with a grey, steaming lake. The crater rim, jagged like torn paper, encircled it. I could smell the sulphur; I could see it too. Yellow steam roared out of vents in the rock below me. It twisted upward and was carried east by the morning breeze. To the west, up an invisible path through the exploded landscape, the miners ascended, visible only by the way their burdens flared against the dead landscape. It was like Jacob's Ladder in reverse. But these were men, not angels or devils. Gas would drift over me and I would be reduced to a hacking, coughing mess between the grey rocks. My descent into this pit was graceless. The miners, balancing the baskets of ore on their shoulders, knew where to place their sandaled feet. They heaved their way up the occasionally vertical route to the rim. I clambered over boulders and slid across sections of gravelly stones, thankful I had my steel-capped work-boots on. The path seemed to go on forever. The rim thrust up above me like a wall. I crossed a stream of hot water where a miner washed the yellow from his hands and then I was at the mine face. The sulphur vents were far above me. Spilling down from them was a wall of congealed sulphur ore, that brilliant, noxious yellow. Pipes had been built to capture some of the gas and carry it down the slope and let it sweep back up, aiding the process of congealment. The miners would climb up by the pipes and break off the ore, their eyes and lungs stinging from the fumes. By the time I got there though, most of the miners had gone. Just a few old men were left, making artificial sulphur stalactites for tourists by getting the sulphur to congeal on twigs and leaves. I would have to go soon, they said. The wind was about to change and blow the gas westward, over the path to the rim. I watched the rushing steam and the dead lake for a while and then climbed back up the crater wall. Occasionally the gas would drift over me and I would be reduced to a hacking, coughing mess between the grey rocks. I can never place my feet in their sandals and walk that ruptured path to the rim. I can't tell you what it is like to wonder if one more rock will feed your family or break your back. All I can do is tell you of the shadows of desperate men I saw up there. Some old, trapped in a job that will destroy their health and perhaps ultimately kill them, but that provides for their families, as long as they keep carrying ore. Some young, with their eyes constantly turned down the slopes, working at the mine only so that, one day, they will not have to any more. Ciaran Harman (ciaran69@hotmail.com) is a student at the University of Western Australia in Perth. He was participating in the Acicis Study Indonesia Program in Yogyakarta. Inside Indonesia 64: Oct - Dec 2000

In this issue

Democracy - How's it going? Gerry van Klinken In May it was two years since pro-democracy protesters brought to an end 32 years of Suharto's military-dominated rule. Since then, the country's first democratic elections in 44 years placed two leaders of the democracy movement in the presidential and vice-presidential offices. The military face constant humiliation over past abuses. So how far has Indonesia come on the road to democracy? No one in this edition would dare say that what the protesters fought for has been achieved. With no Suharto on whom to focus dissent, the many dimensions of Indonesia's problems appear if anything more daunting. So much remains unchanged. The military who backed the anti-communist purges after 1 October 1965 have not yet confronted those evils. The economic elites who repressed labour and raped the environment are still piling up debt. Many problems are deep-seated. The government of this vast country has been trying to decentralise for nearly a century, and the military have for decades been earning more outside their official budget than inside it. Elites in Medan (and in North Maluku where they started a war) have worked hand-in-glove with mafias for just as long. And yet our authors would probably agree that change has been faster these last two years than in the previous thirty. Muchtar Pakpahan, Bu Sulami and Budiman Sujatmiko (who appear in this edition) were all Suharto's political prisoners. They now get a hearing even in the mainstream press. Indonesia has a Muslim president who apologised to the victims of the anti-communist purges of '65. But it just isn't enough yet. Inside Indonesia is a small magazine produced on a shoestring. All our authors know this, and yet they continue to write because Indonesia moves them. Next time we hope to do something on the arts. With the help of the Australia Indonesia Institute, we also hope to bring you an extra four pages! Especially to help students, we want to include an educational supplement with background on a different topic in each of the coming year's editions. Inside Indonesia 63: Jul - Sep 2000

Business as usual

Until Gus Dur can bring military business activities under control, they won't go 'back to barracks' Lesley McCulloch In 1998 a study by the Indonesian Institute of Sciences (LIPI) exposed, not for the first time, the fact that the military had their fingers in the country's economic pie. What was different this time was the coverage it received in the media, exposing the size and variety of the pies in which the generals had their 'sticky fingers'. Amid the protests that led to Suharto's fall, military business activities were yet another 'open secret' to join the fray. Business down the barrel of a gun, a practice as old as Indonesia itself, has been lucrative indeed. Military business assets were estimated to be greater than US$8 billion in 1998. These activities are pervasive, corrupt and exist in the formal, informal, and even criminal economic sectors. There can be no mistaking Gus Dur's desire to return the military to barracks and democratise both politics and the economy. But it is proving to be a delicate balancing act. The president has warned that the country still needs the armed forces as an institution, and should therefore not engage in 'anti TNI sentiment'. Defence Minister Juwono Sudarsono remarked recently that Indonesia couldn't yet afford democracy. For most it is a daily battle for survival, he observed, and only 10% of Indonesians can afford the luxury of participating in democracy. Like most ordinary Indonesians, the military rank and file does not reap rich rewards from their institution's business activities. The military initially became involved in commercial activities because the government could not afford to provide for their welfare and running costs. So what has changed since Gus Dur became president? The government is still unable to provide for the needs of the military. Regular salaries do not adequately provide for the basic needs of personnel. Recent salary increases to public servants and the military averaging 30 percent are a start, but have made little difference with prices spiraling. While it is generally agreed that higher salaries do not necessarily guarantee less corruption and 'extra-military' activities, it would at least be a starting point. Late last year Juwono Sudarsono demanded a 62.9 percent increase in the 2000-2001 defence budget, arguing that if this was not forthcoming the professionalism of the military as a defence force would continue to be compromised by corruption and commercial activities. Theodore Friend of the Foreign Policy Research Institute in Washington says such commercial activities only produce 'clumsy entrepreneurs and flabby soldiers'. However, the 2000 defence budget did not include any raise. At Rp 10.1 trillion (about US$ 1.4 billion) it involved no change - it was merely a percentage of the 1999 budget to reflect its nine-month duration. Nevertheless the military's hierarchy of needs is no secret. Armed forces chief Admiral Widodo Adisucipto has announced a 'wish list' of naval vessels and aircraft upgrades. He specifically mentioned the planned purchase of two Parcham-class corvettes and upgrades of seven F-16A/B jet fighters, at a combined cost of over Rp60 billion. He also wants large fast patrol craft. Navy chief Admiral Sucipto recently revealed plans to increase personnel numbers by 20,000 over five years to facilitate the expanding role of the navy. The result? More sticky fingers will be dipping into the economic pie. The government has recently announced it intends to turn to China for weapons in its attempt to side step what it regards as politically motivated procurement barriers raised by the US and other Western defence manufacturers. Preference for these equipment upgrades was borne out by a confidential Indonesian military source who recently conceded to me that the priority is to channel additional government defence allocation to 'modernisation and maintenance of equipment', rather than to use it as a lever to extract the military from business by raising salaries even more. In addition to weapons a considerable portion of the budget is to be allocated to recruitment and training. Here we have an institution that openly declares its inability to adequately compensate existing personnel, but still intends to increase its numbers. Until the effects of the crisis were felt in 1998, military budgets increased throughout the 1990s. But the number of active personnel also rose, from 270,000 active regulars in 1990 to 298,000 by the late 1990s (excluding paramilitary forces of around 177,000). These personnel increases made it impossible for budget increases to deliver enhanced welfare benefits. Off-budget Indonesian defence spending is much higher than that declared in the official budget. Revrisond Baswir, a prominent Indonesian economist, has suggested that the declared defence budget accounts for only 25 percent of true defence spending. The rest comes from military cooperatives, foundations and stock purchases, and from corrupt practices at the institutional, group and individual level. Profits from these 'ventures' are divided three ways. Some is siphoned off to well-placed individuals, some is reinvested in the companies, and some becomes extra-budgetary income for the military. The true amounts can only be guessed at. The government has stated it must continue to accept these commercial activities as an inevitable necessity until it can afford to increase the defence budget. This means it is also implicitly saying it has no alternative but - to use an increasingly popular Indonesian euphemism - to expect a certain 'leakage' of any profits from these unsupervised businesses to individuals and groups within the military. Gus Dur has recognised the wisdom of not trying to put the cart before the horse. Only when the problem of the official defence budget has been addressed can the government claim the moral authority to insist that the military relinquish its hold on the economy. Indeed in a country where the military remains the most efficiently functioning institution, this may be a wise move. Meanwhile a network of military influence continues, together with an institutional mindset that accepts off-budget financing as normal - a potentially unsettling combination. Gus Dur wants to turn Indonesia into a fully functioning democracy, but removing the military from business is not top of the list on his hierarchy of priorities. In the months since taking office he has certainly declared his intention to stamp out endemic corruption, improve corporate governance (a pledge to the IMF), and oversee the retreat of the military from civil society. But his real priorities have become quite apparent. They have been, firstly, to adopt an individual rather than an institutional focus by filling key positions with reformists both in the military and in government. His second priority seems to have been to meet the requirements of the January 2000 IMF Letter of Intent (LoI) in order to secure the economic bailout on offer. Failure to deliver all reforms stipulated in the LoI has already led to a delay in the next US$ 400 million of the three-year US$5 billion support package. Following this action by the IMF, Gus Dur's somewhat confusing policy orations quickly sharpened to focus on these reforms, 90 percent of which the government says have now been met. Article 31 of the LoI addresses off-budget funds. The government intends to increase transparency and has instructed the State Audit Board (BPKP) that future audits of government agencies' financial operations should 'take full account of all extra-budgetary sources of support'. This 'best practice' begins in 2000 and 'will include the military'. Unfortunately this is the limited extent of the government's attempts to extract the military from business - military businesses will now be accountable to an independent audit. Gus Dur is no doubt treading carefully. Powerful interests are at stake, perhaps none more so than the very existence of his government. As Indonesia continues to languish in the aftermath of the economic crisis there will be no significant increase in the defence budget for the foreseeable future. The military will become more rather than less reliant on a diminishing number of extra-budgetary sources - which themselves have suffered in the economic crisis. In the past, the 'clumsy entrepreneurs' had access to such perks and privileges that many businesses were kept afloat which were not commercially viable. Those military businesses and business connections that have survived can no longer rely on the levels of patronage they previously received. If the government pushes this, the only truly functioning government institution, offside, in other words, if it pushes reform quicker than the military can accept it, the results may bring even more chaos. Perhaps Gus Dur is wise to concentrate on consolidating his power rather on reform. But so long as this is the case, it is 'business as usual' for the military. Ms Lesley McCulloch (lesley@bicc.de) is writing a study of Indonesian military spending for the Bonn International Center for Conversion (BICC) in Germany. BICC (www.bicc.de) is dedicated to promoting processes that shift resources away from the defence sector towards alternative civilian uses. Inside Indonesia 63: Jul - Sep 2000

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