Tempo Magazine
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
The families of activists abducted during the New Order era continue to demand that the former rulers be brought to court.
TRY Suharto….hang Suharto…take him to court,” shouted activists and members of the Indonesian Association of Missing Persons (Ikohi), dragging an effigy of former President Suharto in an iron cage. They walked 2 kilometers from the National Monument to the National Human Rights Commission (Komnas HAM) office in Menteng, Central Jakarta.
Even though Suharto was no longer in power for years, the families of the kidnap victims continued to demand that he be held accountable for his actions. They are the parents and families of abducted people whose fates remain unknown. According to Ikohi leader, Mugiyanto, they believe that Suharto was aware of how dissenters were eliminated.
“In an interview with Panjimas magazine, former Kostrad (Army Strategic Reserve Command) Commander Prabowo Subianto claimed he was given a list of the names of 28 activists that he had to monitor. Suharto also gave the list to other military officials. Those people on the list are still missing,” said Mugiyanto.
According to Mugiyanto, there were three distinct periods when activists and dissenters went missing during Suharto’s rule. The first period was when the 1997 General Elections had to be ’secured.’ At that time, the PDI and PPP coalition, calling themselves the “Mega Star”, was getting stronger. During this period, the targets were supporters or people close to the two political parties opposing Golkar, Suharto’s political vehicle. The victims then were Yani Afri and Soni, activists of the PDI, and Dedi Hamdun and Noval Alkatiri of the PPP.
The second period was just before the MPR general session. Pius Lustrilanang, Desmond Junaidi Mahesa, Haryanto Taslam, and activists of the People’s Democratic Party (PRD) such as Nezar Patria, Rahardjo Waluyo Jati, Andi Arif, Feisol Reza, Wiji Tukul and Mugiyanto himself, were victims of “forcible elimination” attempts.
These nine were later set free, but not before they were terrorized and tortured. “I was held for three days, given electric shocks, tortured, then taken to the police station for three months detention,” said Mugiyanto, 32. Mugi was then a student at Gadjah Mada University’s Department of English Literature in Yogyakarta.
Rahardjo Waluyo Jati went through a similar experience. “For the first three days during the kidnapping I was handcuffed, my legs were tied, given electric shocks and beaten. I was even stripped naked and placed on a block of ice,” he said, when testifying to Komnas HAM. Jati was held from March 12 to April 28, 1998. After three days, Jati was moved to a dungeon where he met Pius Lustrilanang, an activist from Bandung. According to Pius, Room 5 was once inhabited by Soni and Yani Afri, supporters of the pro-Megawati PDI, Dedi Hamdun (of the PPP) and Lukas, a university lecturer from East Timor. In the dungeon, Jati was visited by two persons. “Maybe the bosses of the kidnappers. They smelt of expensive perfume. The two were accompanied by five others. All of them wore masks,” he recounted.
In the third period, people went missing following the May 1998 riots. “They were the eyewitnesses who saw a coordinated group of people torching the markets or malls when many looters were still inside,” said Mugi. Not all the victims of kidnappings were political activists. Some were ordinary street singers and office employees, among whom were Ucok Munandar, Yadi and Abdul Nasser. “Their whereabouts remain unknown but some people saw them being forcibly taken away,” he said.
According to Mugi, Ikohi has called for an ad hoc Komnas HAM team to find out what Suharto’s role was during the 1997-1998 period when people went missing. This team can begin by summoning TNI (Indonesian Military) and police elements suspected of being involved in the abductions. “Komnas HAM had made such a promise. We also appeal to all Indonesians who respect justice not to pardon Suharto before there is an honest and fair trial,” said Mugi, before the former President passed away.
Jumat, 08 Februari 2008
Shooters in the Dark
Tempo Magazine
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
Thousands of people were mysteriously shot to death in 1983, their corpses dumped in the streets. Were the ‘executions’ committed by the state?
ON the night of June 26, 1983, in Lubuk Pakam, 40 kilometers from Medan, at a dim distance, Suwito, the owner of two food stalls in the village, saw five people approaching him. They asked Suwito to follow them as they needed his information.
Unsuspecting, Suwito got into the white Land Rover of the men picking him up. In the car, they asked him about Usman Bais, a notorious robber and gang leader from Medan who had once eaten at his stall. Suwito denied any relationship with the burglar, let alone the accusation that Usman Bais had supplied capital for the food stall.
As Suwito recounted, he was taken round the suburbs of Medan for two hours. He was photographed twice. He was dropped off at Hamparan Perak village, followed by one of the men. “The man was of average build, upright, but a bit crippled,” said Suwito.
As soon as this lame man got out, he pulled his pistol. “I heard three shots before I fell. I could still hear the other man telling him to shoot me in the head. But the shooter said that I was already dead, after groping around my belly,” added Suwito. He was actually holding his breath, pretending to be dead. Suwito was then dumped into a roadside ditch.
In 1983, such scenes became common all over Indonesia and were later known as Petrus (for penembak misterius, mysterious shooters) incidents. At that time, people in Jakarta and other major cities in Indonesia were becoming accustomed to the sights of scattered dead bodies. However, they didn’t have the slightest idea of who had perpetrated the shootings.
The government was at first reluctant to clarify the number of so many deaths. Security authorities also denied involvement. Then Armed Forces commander Gen. L.B. Moerdani said that the killings had occurred following gang wars. The slayings, Benny said, were not a government decision. He admitted that, “Some were gunned down by security men, but it was because they resisted arrest.”
However, in his biography Ucapan, Pikiran, dan Tindakan Saya (My Words, Thoughts and Deeds) Suharto “confirms” the shootings. He said that the mysterious killings were purposely done as shock therapy to reduce the high rate of crime.
“The incidents were not mysterious. The real problem was that the incidents were preceded by public fears,” indicated Suharto, in Chapter 69 of his biography. Some evil people, he said, had acted beyond the limits of humanity norms. “So, we had to initiate some treatment, some stern action,” he pointed out.”What kind of action? Well, we had to resort to force. But it was not just execution by shootings. No! Those who resisted had to be shot. They were gunned down because they fought back,” explained Suharto in the biography.
No official figures of the shooting victims were ever reported. Until July 1983, according to Benny Moerdani, 300 corpses were recorded throughout Indonesia. The number must have been larger because many criminal elements vanished without a trace.
Mulyana W. Kusumah, a criminologist who researched the Petrus incident, said that the number of shooting victims could be as high as 2,000. Hans van den Broek, then Foreign Minister of The Netherlands, in 1984 requested the Indonesian government to respect human rights, putting the total of victims even higher at 3,000.
Many years later the government’s involvement in the mysterious killings began to be unveiled. Mulyana’s research showed that Petrus constituted a continuation of the Anti-Crime Operation in several major cities.
At first, the operation was announced by Yogyakarta’s garrison commander, Lt. Col. M. Hasbi, in March 1983.
It was followed by other areas, including Jakarta. Some of the thousands of gali, as thugs were called, were shot, some of them readily surrendered, others fled to hide in the jungle. A few changed their evil ways.
The government regarded the decision to “organize” the Petrus operation as something positive. Criminal activities werereported to decline following the Petrus operation. InYogyakarta, cases of violent crime dropped from 57 to 20 fromJanuary to June 1983. During the same period, the number of crimes in Semarang decreased from 78 to 50.
But this mysterious method of addressing the problem of the high crime rate invited criticism. Mulyana concluded his study by describing the obscure shooting incidents as “extralegal,” which was contrary to the principle of law and justice. The Legal Aid Institute, then headed by Adnan Buyung Nasution, referred to the Petrus operation as “premeditated murder.”
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
Thousands of people were mysteriously shot to death in 1983, their corpses dumped in the streets. Were the ‘executions’ committed by the state?
ON the night of June 26, 1983, in Lubuk Pakam, 40 kilometers from Medan, at a dim distance, Suwito, the owner of two food stalls in the village, saw five people approaching him. They asked Suwito to follow them as they needed his information.
Unsuspecting, Suwito got into the white Land Rover of the men picking him up. In the car, they asked him about Usman Bais, a notorious robber and gang leader from Medan who had once eaten at his stall. Suwito denied any relationship with the burglar, let alone the accusation that Usman Bais had supplied capital for the food stall.
As Suwito recounted, he was taken round the suburbs of Medan for two hours. He was photographed twice. He was dropped off at Hamparan Perak village, followed by one of the men. “The man was of average build, upright, but a bit crippled,” said Suwito.
As soon as this lame man got out, he pulled his pistol. “I heard three shots before I fell. I could still hear the other man telling him to shoot me in the head. But the shooter said that I was already dead, after groping around my belly,” added Suwito. He was actually holding his breath, pretending to be dead. Suwito was then dumped into a roadside ditch.
In 1983, such scenes became common all over Indonesia and were later known as Petrus (for penembak misterius, mysterious shooters) incidents. At that time, people in Jakarta and other major cities in Indonesia were becoming accustomed to the sights of scattered dead bodies. However, they didn’t have the slightest idea of who had perpetrated the shootings.
The government was at first reluctant to clarify the number of so many deaths. Security authorities also denied involvement. Then Armed Forces commander Gen. L.B. Moerdani said that the killings had occurred following gang wars. The slayings, Benny said, were not a government decision. He admitted that, “Some were gunned down by security men, but it was because they resisted arrest.”
However, in his biography Ucapan, Pikiran, dan Tindakan Saya (My Words, Thoughts and Deeds) Suharto “confirms” the shootings. He said that the mysterious killings were purposely done as shock therapy to reduce the high rate of crime.
“The incidents were not mysterious. The real problem was that the incidents were preceded by public fears,” indicated Suharto, in Chapter 69 of his biography. Some evil people, he said, had acted beyond the limits of humanity norms. “So, we had to initiate some treatment, some stern action,” he pointed out.”What kind of action? Well, we had to resort to force. But it was not just execution by shootings. No! Those who resisted had to be shot. They were gunned down because they fought back,” explained Suharto in the biography.
No official figures of the shooting victims were ever reported. Until July 1983, according to Benny Moerdani, 300 corpses were recorded throughout Indonesia. The number must have been larger because many criminal elements vanished without a trace.
Mulyana W. Kusumah, a criminologist who researched the Petrus incident, said that the number of shooting victims could be as high as 2,000. Hans van den Broek, then Foreign Minister of The Netherlands, in 1984 requested the Indonesian government to respect human rights, putting the total of victims even higher at 3,000.
Many years later the government’s involvement in the mysterious killings began to be unveiled. Mulyana’s research showed that Petrus constituted a continuation of the Anti-Crime Operation in several major cities.
At first, the operation was announced by Yogyakarta’s garrison commander, Lt. Col. M. Hasbi, in March 1983.
It was followed by other areas, including Jakarta. Some of the thousands of gali, as thugs were called, were shot, some of them readily surrendered, others fled to hide in the jungle. A few changed their evil ways.
The government regarded the decision to “organize” the Petrus operation as something positive. Criminal activities werereported to decline following the Petrus operation. InYogyakarta, cases of violent crime dropped from 57 to 20 fromJanuary to June 1983. During the same period, the number of crimes in Semarang decreased from 78 to 50.
But this mysterious method of addressing the problem of the high crime rate invited criticism. Mulyana concluded his study by describing the obscure shooting incidents as “extralegal,” which was contrary to the principle of law and justice. The Legal Aid Institute, then headed by Adnan Buyung Nasution, referred to the Petrus operation as “premeditated murder.”
The Unshakeable Legacy
Tempo Magazine
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
Suharto’s leadership was marked by a strong level of personal subjectivity. He created an Indonesia which was ‘prosperous,’ centralistic, and respected, without paying attention to matters of democracy or human rights. Things began to fall apart for him when his children became aggressive in business.
JAKARTA 1966. Sukarno, who had led the country for six years under the confusion known as “Guided Democracy,” had been replaced by a handsome and taciturn military man. He held a powerful mandate known as the Supersemar letter.
Since that point, for decades to come, and even after his body was buried at Astana Giribangun, Solo, on Monday last week, this soft-spoken major-general continues to stir up the nation. Yes, Suharto (1921-2008) is not finished just yet.
There is a nostalgia which makes people yearn for the stability which he brought in the past. Here in the present democracy has led to waves of uncertainty: the emergence of small kings in the provinces, the cackle of freedom of expression, and opportunists who dominate the halls of power. His unwavering doctrine of the Unitary State of the Republic of Indonesia (NKRI) and intolerance of regional aspirations suddenly seemed like a viable alternative when separatism began to appear in Sumatra, Maluku, Papua, and other parts of the country.
How was he able to permeate the very being of this country?
Of course, during his 32 years in power, Suharto had plenty of opportunities to do good and bad-which he did, alternately. However, there was a process which seemed to go on forever under his administration, the length of which could only be outdone by Cuba’s Fidel Castro. This process was centralization, and even personalization, with figurehead Suharto as the nucleus of the entire nation.
It is not unusual that cultural observers have often compared his so-called New Order rule with the Javanese kingdom of Mataram-a political system which places the king as the center, one which draws its power from the cosmos. The king is a supernatural figure. In Javanese tradition, as Benedict Anderson wrote in his classic book The Idea of Power in Javanese Culture, legitimacy does not come from man. With her supernatural powers, a queen can subdue the people around her. Suharto, whether he realized it or not, appeared to be convinced that he was that central point.
This centralization process might have been detected early on, when he reduced the number of political parties-those pockets of power outside the government which were a remnant of the liberal democracy which had been paralyzed by Sukarno’s Guided Democracy. As Herbert Feith wrote in The Decline of Constitutional Democracy in Indonesia, in the 1971 General Election, the scores of political parties were reduced to just 10. All of the election regulations were made to serve one goal: a victory for the Golkar Party. At that time, his democratic supporters, including the university students from the Class of ‘66 who had taken Sukarno out of office, did not suspect a thing. “We knew he was a military man who did not like politics,” said Arief Budiman, an activist.
These lovers of democracy were intrigued, and placed many of their hopes on his shoulders. Suharto released political prisoners and allowed newspapers banned by Sukarno to start publishing again. The New Order quickly “transformed” into a correction of the Old Order; and Suharto himself became a correction of Sukarno. He broke from the government model which was fond of chanting slogans, one which busied itself with shouts of “Crush Malaysia!” while allowing inflation to rise 600 percent. A program of development was spelt out and inflation brought under control, and Indonesia began an impressive period of economic growth. Foreign capital flowed into the country.
However, the elimination of power outside of the nucleus of the New Order did not come to a halt. An incident in the mid-1970s led to the following consolidation: 10 political parties were
reduced to two parties and one group. The Malari incident (1974) was a protest against the government, which was planning to implement the idea of Tien Suharto, namely the Beautiful Indonesia in Miniature Theme Park (TMII), which began to show signs of corruption. This time, opposition from students met with an iron fist. The government, which had been tolerant and open, turned violent and repressive. Several years later, from 1978-1979, frontal opposition from university students was answered with the NKK/BKK-a ban on political activity for students on campus.
In the 1980s, this centralization of power, which went on during that entire period, had reached a rather frightening stage: the nucleus had widened. The children of President Suharto, who had started to grow up, became an integral part of the central body, going into business armed with “special privileges” from their father. One edition of Forbes magazine reported that, after the monetary crisis in 1997, the wealth of Suharto and his family had reached US$16 billion.
In his lengthy memoir entitled, From Third World to First, former Prime Minister of Singapore Lee Kuan Yew wrote how he did not understand why his children needed to become so wealthy. In the same book, Lee regretted that Suharto had ignored the advice of former Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces, General Benny Moerdani, at the end of the 1980s, namely that he curb the zeal of his children to obtain various business privileges.
According to Kuntowijoyo, as quoted by Eriyanto in the book Kekuasaan Otoriter (Authoritative Power), Suharto was the type of person who based himself on acts of faith and not on acts of reason. Because of this, many of Suharto’s statements and actions were sur rising, yet he never doubted himself in making decisions. He did not need any rational considerations when disbanding the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI). He just relied on his personal convictions. A biography compiled by O. G. Roeder shows how confident Suharto felt when he filled the vacuum in army leadership. “I acted upon my own convictions.”
It seems that it was this self-confidence which led him to launch the “Petrus” operation, the mysterious shootings to exterminate thugs. This staunch attitude may also have been the basis of his decision to take drastic action which claimed many victims in Aceh, Tanjung Priok, Lampung, Papua, and other places. This dark record of human rights violations cannot
easily be effaced.
The height of this centralization rife with nepotism was most transparent in 1997: he was elected for the seventh time, which means that he had spent almost half of his life as Indonesia’s President. In the 7th Development Cabinet, Siti Hardijanti Rukmana, his eldest daughter, was appointed as Minister of Social Affairs. And when it was seen that the scope of the authority given to this minister was quite extensive, people began imagining that the handover of power would be a family event: the eldest daughter taking her father’s role.
Indeed, Suharto’s style was centralistic, prone to nepotism, and often repressive. However, this was also the way in which programs of national prosperity were able to succeed-and in the end this created a populist image. Indonesia in the Soeharto Years: Issues, Incidents and Images, is a book containing a collection of writings discussing this period, citing the success of Family Planning, a program which began in 1970 and was based solely on economic considerations. Suharto believed that each child needed food, clothing, and education; these needs could not be met if the country experienced a population boom.
The implementation of the Family Planning program was top-down and did not originate from public aspirations. With Tien Suharto at the top of the organizational chart, and the support of the wives of the highest leaders in the provinces, the bureaucratic machine mobilized the Family Planning program down to the most remote villages. Some of the program’s repressive measures led
to some bitter experiences, even though the world saw it as a noteworthy achievement.
After such an extended stay in power, Suharto and a small circle of close friends and family grew to become the group primarily responsible for the various social and economic indicators in the country: repression, the success of the model of prosperity, horrifying levels of corruption, and the destruction of the economy due to the monetary crisis of 1997-1998.
On Sunday last week, his long life finally ended, but his exploits-whether those from long ago or those yet to be revealed-constitute a legacy which continues to haunt Indonesia.
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
Suharto’s leadership was marked by a strong level of personal subjectivity. He created an Indonesia which was ‘prosperous,’ centralistic, and respected, without paying attention to matters of democracy or human rights. Things began to fall apart for him when his children became aggressive in business.
JAKARTA 1966. Sukarno, who had led the country for six years under the confusion known as “Guided Democracy,” had been replaced by a handsome and taciturn military man. He held a powerful mandate known as the Supersemar letter.
Since that point, for decades to come, and even after his body was buried at Astana Giribangun, Solo, on Monday last week, this soft-spoken major-general continues to stir up the nation. Yes, Suharto (1921-2008) is not finished just yet.
There is a nostalgia which makes people yearn for the stability which he brought in the past. Here in the present democracy has led to waves of uncertainty: the emergence of small kings in the provinces, the cackle of freedom of expression, and opportunists who dominate the halls of power. His unwavering doctrine of the Unitary State of the Republic of Indonesia (NKRI) and intolerance of regional aspirations suddenly seemed like a viable alternative when separatism began to appear in Sumatra, Maluku, Papua, and other parts of the country.
How was he able to permeate the very being of this country?
Of course, during his 32 years in power, Suharto had plenty of opportunities to do good and bad-which he did, alternately. However, there was a process which seemed to go on forever under his administration, the length of which could only be outdone by Cuba’s Fidel Castro. This process was centralization, and even personalization, with figurehead Suharto as the nucleus of the entire nation.
It is not unusual that cultural observers have often compared his so-called New Order rule with the Javanese kingdom of Mataram-a political system which places the king as the center, one which draws its power from the cosmos. The king is a supernatural figure. In Javanese tradition, as Benedict Anderson wrote in his classic book The Idea of Power in Javanese Culture, legitimacy does not come from man. With her supernatural powers, a queen can subdue the people around her. Suharto, whether he realized it or not, appeared to be convinced that he was that central point.
This centralization process might have been detected early on, when he reduced the number of political parties-those pockets of power outside the government which were a remnant of the liberal democracy which had been paralyzed by Sukarno’s Guided Democracy. As Herbert Feith wrote in The Decline of Constitutional Democracy in Indonesia, in the 1971 General Election, the scores of political parties were reduced to just 10. All of the election regulations were made to serve one goal: a victory for the Golkar Party. At that time, his democratic supporters, including the university students from the Class of ‘66 who had taken Sukarno out of office, did not suspect a thing. “We knew he was a military man who did not like politics,” said Arief Budiman, an activist.
These lovers of democracy were intrigued, and placed many of their hopes on his shoulders. Suharto released political prisoners and allowed newspapers banned by Sukarno to start publishing again. The New Order quickly “transformed” into a correction of the Old Order; and Suharto himself became a correction of Sukarno. He broke from the government model which was fond of chanting slogans, one which busied itself with shouts of “Crush Malaysia!” while allowing inflation to rise 600 percent. A program of development was spelt out and inflation brought under control, and Indonesia began an impressive period of economic growth. Foreign capital flowed into the country.
However, the elimination of power outside of the nucleus of the New Order did not come to a halt. An incident in the mid-1970s led to the following consolidation: 10 political parties were
reduced to two parties and one group. The Malari incident (1974) was a protest against the government, which was planning to implement the idea of Tien Suharto, namely the Beautiful Indonesia in Miniature Theme Park (TMII), which began to show signs of corruption. This time, opposition from students met with an iron fist. The government, which had been tolerant and open, turned violent and repressive. Several years later, from 1978-1979, frontal opposition from university students was answered with the NKK/BKK-a ban on political activity for students on campus.
In the 1980s, this centralization of power, which went on during that entire period, had reached a rather frightening stage: the nucleus had widened. The children of President Suharto, who had started to grow up, became an integral part of the central body, going into business armed with “special privileges” from their father. One edition of Forbes magazine reported that, after the monetary crisis in 1997, the wealth of Suharto and his family had reached US$16 billion.
In his lengthy memoir entitled, From Third World to First, former Prime Minister of Singapore Lee Kuan Yew wrote how he did not understand why his children needed to become so wealthy. In the same book, Lee regretted that Suharto had ignored the advice of former Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces, General Benny Moerdani, at the end of the 1980s, namely that he curb the zeal of his children to obtain various business privileges.
According to Kuntowijoyo, as quoted by Eriyanto in the book Kekuasaan Otoriter (Authoritative Power), Suharto was the type of person who based himself on acts of faith and not on acts of reason. Because of this, many of Suharto’s statements and actions were sur rising, yet he never doubted himself in making decisions. He did not need any rational considerations when disbanding the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI). He just relied on his personal convictions. A biography compiled by O. G. Roeder shows how confident Suharto felt when he filled the vacuum in army leadership. “I acted upon my own convictions.”
It seems that it was this self-confidence which led him to launch the “Petrus” operation, the mysterious shootings to exterminate thugs. This staunch attitude may also have been the basis of his decision to take drastic action which claimed many victims in Aceh, Tanjung Priok, Lampung, Papua, and other places. This dark record of human rights violations cannot
easily be effaced.
The height of this centralization rife with nepotism was most transparent in 1997: he was elected for the seventh time, which means that he had spent almost half of his life as Indonesia’s President. In the 7th Development Cabinet, Siti Hardijanti Rukmana, his eldest daughter, was appointed as Minister of Social Affairs. And when it was seen that the scope of the authority given to this minister was quite extensive, people began imagining that the handover of power would be a family event: the eldest daughter taking her father’s role.
Indeed, Suharto’s style was centralistic, prone to nepotism, and often repressive. However, this was also the way in which programs of national prosperity were able to succeed-and in the end this created a populist image. Indonesia in the Soeharto Years: Issues, Incidents and Images, is a book containing a collection of writings discussing this period, citing the success of Family Planning, a program which began in 1970 and was based solely on economic considerations. Suharto believed that each child needed food, clothing, and education; these needs could not be met if the country experienced a population boom.
The implementation of the Family Planning program was top-down and did not originate from public aspirations. With Tien Suharto at the top of the organizational chart, and the support of the wives of the highest leaders in the provinces, the bureaucratic machine mobilized the Family Planning program down to the most remote villages. Some of the program’s repressive measures led
to some bitter experiences, even though the world saw it as a noteworthy achievement.
After such an extended stay in power, Suharto and a small circle of close friends and family grew to become the group primarily responsible for the various social and economic indicators in the country: repression, the success of the model of prosperity, horrifying levels of corruption, and the destruction of the economy due to the monetary crisis of 1997-1998.
On Sunday last week, his long life finally ended, but his exploits-whether those from long ago or those yet to be revealed-constitute a legacy which continues to haunt Indonesia.
Editorial: Farewell to the King
Tempo Magazine
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
HE was accorded seven days of mourning, flags at half-mast. Whether one approved or disapproved of the government’s action, Suharto died a ‘hero’ last week. From the time he was admitted to Pertamina Hospital until his burial in Solo three weeks later, Suharto proved he was a master manipulator.
A stream of senior officials came to visit him. The attention given to the fluctuating condition of his organs overshadowed other news-like the death of Slamet, a smalltime snack-seller, who lost all hope and killed himself over the soaring price of soybeans. All television stations-some of them owned by Suharto’s children-aimed their cameras at the hospital or repeatedly showed footage of the ailing former President. Of course, out of respect for a seriously ill man, they only showed the good parts.
At the hospital, the family applied a strict protocol: only people they approved of were allowed in. Not all of Suharto’s former inner circle passed the screening process. Harmoko, who never forgot to ask directions from his boss while he was Information Minister, failed to get in. Neither did B.J. Habibie, the former President who always used to refer to Suharto as his mentor. Amid the chorus of politicians calling for Suharto to be pardoned, the man himself was not prepared to forgive his two former associates.
When he finally breathed his last, broadcasters brimming with tears recalled his goodness and his achievements. The endless eulogies got better ratings than the soap operas. This meant increased advertising. It is fair to say that use of television to influence the feelings of the public was largely successful.
In an obvious about-face, television channels showed a man who deserved nothing less than prayers and expressions of sympathy. If there were people who spoke otherwise, or referred to his sins or wrongdoings, they were seen to be misled, ignorant, given to prattling or harboring grudges. Perhaps Asep Purnama Bahtiar is right. The Muhammadiyah Yogyakarta University lecturer claimed that media reports were no longer factual. They were, he argued, a reconstruction of a “world” envisaged by the media and the people involved.
Soon, Astana Giribangun, the Suharto family mausoleum, will cease to be in the news. We will be left with the pending civil case against Suharto’s foundations and the debate over the legal status of his heirs. The government should not waste time worrying about that. The rules are quite clear. Unless Suharto’s six children reject the terms of his will, they stand to inherit all his possessions. It would not make sense for any of them to reject their inheritance. The Attorney General’s Office could then deal with the children on the basis of the civil case.
The case against Suharto himself automatically lapses upon his death, but his cronies who survive him must be examined. All the government has to do is determine which of Suharto’s policies represented an abuse of power, were unlawful or were used to enrich himself and his associates. Anybody who benefited from these policies should immediately become the target of an investigation. No one should be allowed to evade this. They did nothing to refuse the fruits of the privileges they enjoyed so cheerfully.
There are many ways in which the government can do this if it has the will to do so. One is to audit the wealth of the cronies. Assets procured through privilege or are of uncertain origin can be examined in court. In principle, enjoying the benefits of illegal policies is a crime in itself. The evidence is clear. Secret documents from the US State Department and the White House can be used as additional evidence to prove corruption during the New Order years.
The public will wait and see if once in court the cronies deny responsibility by pinning the blame for all wrongdoings on Suharto, a man they now praise because he gave them so many “sweeteners.” Only a true coward would “stab” a boss who is already in the next world.
Above all, the cronies must be investigated if the government really wants to uphold economic justice and carry out its constitutional mandate to guarantee the right of all citizens to equal opportunity. If it does nothing, the special facilities and privileges thought to have been wrongfully obtained will never end. Only a puppet kingdom would allow this sorry state of
affairs to continue.
The government should prioritize these investigations, if only because the move has already been mandated by the People’s Consultative Assembly in 1999. Resolving these cases is more important than spending time thinking about declaring Suharto a national hero-as loudly proposed by Priyo Budi Santoso, a Golkar functionary who was once summoned by the Corruption Eradication
Commission.
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
HE was accorded seven days of mourning, flags at half-mast. Whether one approved or disapproved of the government’s action, Suharto died a ‘hero’ last week. From the time he was admitted to Pertamina Hospital until his burial in Solo three weeks later, Suharto proved he was a master manipulator.
A stream of senior officials came to visit him. The attention given to the fluctuating condition of his organs overshadowed other news-like the death of Slamet, a smalltime snack-seller, who lost all hope and killed himself over the soaring price of soybeans. All television stations-some of them owned by Suharto’s children-aimed their cameras at the hospital or repeatedly showed footage of the ailing former President. Of course, out of respect for a seriously ill man, they only showed the good parts.
At the hospital, the family applied a strict protocol: only people they approved of were allowed in. Not all of Suharto’s former inner circle passed the screening process. Harmoko, who never forgot to ask directions from his boss while he was Information Minister, failed to get in. Neither did B.J. Habibie, the former President who always used to refer to Suharto as his mentor. Amid the chorus of politicians calling for Suharto to be pardoned, the man himself was not prepared to forgive his two former associates.
When he finally breathed his last, broadcasters brimming with tears recalled his goodness and his achievements. The endless eulogies got better ratings than the soap operas. This meant increased advertising. It is fair to say that use of television to influence the feelings of the public was largely successful.
In an obvious about-face, television channels showed a man who deserved nothing less than prayers and expressions of sympathy. If there were people who spoke otherwise, or referred to his sins or wrongdoings, they were seen to be misled, ignorant, given to prattling or harboring grudges. Perhaps Asep Purnama Bahtiar is right. The Muhammadiyah Yogyakarta University lecturer claimed that media reports were no longer factual. They were, he argued, a reconstruction of a “world” envisaged by the media and the people involved.
Soon, Astana Giribangun, the Suharto family mausoleum, will cease to be in the news. We will be left with the pending civil case against Suharto’s foundations and the debate over the legal status of his heirs. The government should not waste time worrying about that. The rules are quite clear. Unless Suharto’s six children reject the terms of his will, they stand to inherit all his possessions. It would not make sense for any of them to reject their inheritance. The Attorney General’s Office could then deal with the children on the basis of the civil case.
The case against Suharto himself automatically lapses upon his death, but his cronies who survive him must be examined. All the government has to do is determine which of Suharto’s policies represented an abuse of power, were unlawful or were used to enrich himself and his associates. Anybody who benefited from these policies should immediately become the target of an investigation. No one should be allowed to evade this. They did nothing to refuse the fruits of the privileges they enjoyed so cheerfully.
There are many ways in which the government can do this if it has the will to do so. One is to audit the wealth of the cronies. Assets procured through privilege or are of uncertain origin can be examined in court. In principle, enjoying the benefits of illegal policies is a crime in itself. The evidence is clear. Secret documents from the US State Department and the White House can be used as additional evidence to prove corruption during the New Order years.
The public will wait and see if once in court the cronies deny responsibility by pinning the blame for all wrongdoings on Suharto, a man they now praise because he gave them so many “sweeteners.” Only a true coward would “stab” a boss who is already in the next world.
Above all, the cronies must be investigated if the government really wants to uphold economic justice and carry out its constitutional mandate to guarantee the right of all citizens to equal opportunity. If it does nothing, the special facilities and privileges thought to have been wrongfully obtained will never end. Only a puppet kingdom would allow this sorry state of
affairs to continue.
The government should prioritize these investigations, if only because the move has already been mandated by the People’s Consultative Assembly in 1999. Resolving these cases is more important than spending time thinking about declaring Suharto a national hero-as loudly proposed by Priyo Budi Santoso, a Golkar functionary who was once summoned by the Corruption Eradication
Commission.
The Military’s Tracks in Aceh and Papua
Tempo Magazine
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
Suharto used the military approach to deal with the Aceh and Papua conflicts, resulting in thousands of victims.
THERE was a time when Zarkani (not his real name) would ask everyone he met endless questions about his missing father. “Where is my father? Has my father died? If he did, where was he buried?” He kept on asking until about two years ago. Then the questions stopped.
Born in 1969, Zarkani has been traumatized since the age of 20, when his father was summoned to appear at the Krueng ABRI (Armed Forces) HQ in Pase, North Aceh. The Suharto government had designated Aceh as a Military Operations Zone (DOM). That was the last time anyone saw Zarkani’s father. He never returned home. It clearly affected Zarkani’s mental state. Once, Zarkani was found in a local mosque courtyard, playing in a pool of sacrificial goat’s blood, shouting, “This is my father’s blood.” At other times, he would build a mound of earth in his house’s yard, saying, “This is my father’s grave.”
Thousands of children in the land of Seulawah (Aceh) have gone through the same trauma as Zarkani. They wait for their fathers to come home. Days, weeks, months and years pass, but there has never been any news of their fates.
The military operations that lasted until 1998 began in early 1989 when about 300 Libya-trained armed members of the Free Aceh Movement (GAM) returned to Aceh. Equipped with a specific ideology and weaponry, the GAM army attacked military and police posts in the area. The GAM’s guerrilla war against the government had begun.
The attacks began in Syantalura. A policeman guarding the Arun oil and gas refinery located in North Aceh was enjoying the morning air when suddenly a group of armed men stormed the premises, firing at the police post. “A bullet hit a corporal,” said Ramli Ridwan, a former North Aceh Regent.
Fighting between the Indonesian Armed Forces and GAM rebels had been going on since Acehnese leader Tengku Hasan Tiro declared the formation of GAM on December 4, 1976. Indonesian security forces counterattacked. Seven years later, Tiro and other GAM leaders fled to Sweden. The movement was taken over by a younger generation of Acehnese, trained in Libya.
The critical situation led Aceh Governor Ibrahim Hasan to assemble regents and public figures as well as local military chiefs under the Korem 011/Lilawangsa, in Lhok Seumawe. They decided to take the matter to Jakarta. President Suharto immediately deployed 6,000 members of the Army’s Special Forces (Kopassus) to Aceh. Some 12,000 troops were to remain there until May, 1990. The operation was codenamed Operation Red Snafrie. Officers who led operations there were Sjafrie Sjamsoedin, Prabowo Subianto and Syarwan Hamid.
The military approach operation was typically Suharto’s way of dealing with regional conflicts. This method was applied to suppress rebellion in Papua. Since the December 1, 1969 referendum (Pepera) which validated the transfer of West Papua from The Netherlands to Indonesia, many Papuans were unhappy. They claim that the Dutch East Indies government had promised to give the Papuans independence.
On July 28, 1965, long before the referendum, a number of Papuan leaders, such as Ferry Awom, had proclaimed Papuan independence in Manokwari. They recruited Biak youths to wage guerrilla warfare. One of the strong guerrilla groups of the Free Papua Organization (OPM) was the Mandacan group.
Suharto ‘dealt with’ the security problem in Indonesia’s easternmost province by continuing to reinforce military troops. Former Cenderawasih Military Region commander, Maj. Gen. (ret) Samsuddin, who was assigned to his post in 1975, reported: “Toward the 1977 general elections, the situation in Papua was very tense. The troops had to secure certain areas during the elections.”
History notes that guns, mortars and blood did not succeed in restoring peace in Papua and Aceh. In Aceh, thousands of women and children were traumatized by the effects of the war. The National Human Rights Commission fact-finding team reports that during the DOM (in Aceh) period, some 3,000 women became widows and 20,000 children were orphaned-some of whom like Zarkani, have lost their sanity. Some women were raped.
It is the same story in Papua. Sociologist and anti-Pepera activist, Arnold Clemens A.P., was shot dead. As many as 10,000 Papuans took refuge in neighboring Papua New Guinea.
Papua continues to smolder. History has noted the bloody tracksof military boots in the two regions
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
Suharto used the military approach to deal with the Aceh and Papua conflicts, resulting in thousands of victims.
THERE was a time when Zarkani (not his real name) would ask everyone he met endless questions about his missing father. “Where is my father? Has my father died? If he did, where was he buried?” He kept on asking until about two years ago. Then the questions stopped.
Born in 1969, Zarkani has been traumatized since the age of 20, when his father was summoned to appear at the Krueng ABRI (Armed Forces) HQ in Pase, North Aceh. The Suharto government had designated Aceh as a Military Operations Zone (DOM). That was the last time anyone saw Zarkani’s father. He never returned home. It clearly affected Zarkani’s mental state. Once, Zarkani was found in a local mosque courtyard, playing in a pool of sacrificial goat’s blood, shouting, “This is my father’s blood.” At other times, he would build a mound of earth in his house’s yard, saying, “This is my father’s grave.”
Thousands of children in the land of Seulawah (Aceh) have gone through the same trauma as Zarkani. They wait for their fathers to come home. Days, weeks, months and years pass, but there has never been any news of their fates.
The military operations that lasted until 1998 began in early 1989 when about 300 Libya-trained armed members of the Free Aceh Movement (GAM) returned to Aceh. Equipped with a specific ideology and weaponry, the GAM army attacked military and police posts in the area. The GAM’s guerrilla war against the government had begun.
The attacks began in Syantalura. A policeman guarding the Arun oil and gas refinery located in North Aceh was enjoying the morning air when suddenly a group of armed men stormed the premises, firing at the police post. “A bullet hit a corporal,” said Ramli Ridwan, a former North Aceh Regent.
Fighting between the Indonesian Armed Forces and GAM rebels had been going on since Acehnese leader Tengku Hasan Tiro declared the formation of GAM on December 4, 1976. Indonesian security forces counterattacked. Seven years later, Tiro and other GAM leaders fled to Sweden. The movement was taken over by a younger generation of Acehnese, trained in Libya.
The critical situation led Aceh Governor Ibrahim Hasan to assemble regents and public figures as well as local military chiefs under the Korem 011/Lilawangsa, in Lhok Seumawe. They decided to take the matter to Jakarta. President Suharto immediately deployed 6,000 members of the Army’s Special Forces (Kopassus) to Aceh. Some 12,000 troops were to remain there until May, 1990. The operation was codenamed Operation Red Snafrie. Officers who led operations there were Sjafrie Sjamsoedin, Prabowo Subianto and Syarwan Hamid.
The military approach operation was typically Suharto’s way of dealing with regional conflicts. This method was applied to suppress rebellion in Papua. Since the December 1, 1969 referendum (Pepera) which validated the transfer of West Papua from The Netherlands to Indonesia, many Papuans were unhappy. They claim that the Dutch East Indies government had promised to give the Papuans independence.
On July 28, 1965, long before the referendum, a number of Papuan leaders, such as Ferry Awom, had proclaimed Papuan independence in Manokwari. They recruited Biak youths to wage guerrilla warfare. One of the strong guerrilla groups of the Free Papua Organization (OPM) was the Mandacan group.
Suharto ‘dealt with’ the security problem in Indonesia’s easternmost province by continuing to reinforce military troops. Former Cenderawasih Military Region commander, Maj. Gen. (ret) Samsuddin, who was assigned to his post in 1975, reported: “Toward the 1977 general elections, the situation in Papua was very tense. The troops had to secure certain areas during the elections.”
History notes that guns, mortars and blood did not succeed in restoring peace in Papua and Aceh. In Aceh, thousands of women and children were traumatized by the effects of the war. The National Human Rights Commission fact-finding team reports that during the DOM (in Aceh) period, some 3,000 women became widows and 20,000 children were orphaned-some of whom like Zarkani, have lost their sanity. Some women were raped.
It is the same story in Papua. Sociologist and anti-Pepera activist, Arnold Clemens A.P., was shot dead. As many as 10,000 Papuans took refuge in neighboring Papua New Guinea.
Papua continues to smolder. History has noted the bloody tracksof military boots in the two regions
Unanswered Questions: the 1965 Tragedy
Tempo Magazine
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
Attempts to bring to trial cases of human rights violations during the 1965 tragedy still have a long way to go. Suharto somehow managed to remain out of the justice system’s reach.
SVETLANA, the eldest child of Nyoto, said she wanted to see Suharto prosecuted for the 1965 tragedy. The daughter of then-Deputy Chairman II of the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI) Central Committee, has never joined groups of G30S (September 30 Movement) victims’ families who are fighting the government. “I know these charges are important, but I’m pessimistic about the outcome,” she said.
According to Svetlana, her mother, Sutarni, also expects the same. But Ibu Nyoto, now 79, harbors no grudge against Suharto. In fact, she added: “Some of mother’s friends are so angered that they get sick when they hear Suharto’s exemption from prosecution.” The Nyoto family is an example of a G30S victimliving without any of the traumatic scars. Sutarni recalls how she was forced to carry her children, moving from one detention house to another, trying not to lose her sense of humor. They have no idea when and where Nyoto was killed, let alone his burial place.
Not all the G30S injured parties share the attitude of the Nyotos. Perhaps it is because the tragedy which took place 43 years ago involved a great number of people. Around 3 million people died, over 10,000 were exiled to Buru Island and millions more received discriminating treatment. The New Order, led by Suharto, created instruments that legitimized atrocities against suspected communists at that time.
Exiling over 10,000 people to Buru, for instance, was meant to safeguard the newly established regime in order to win the 1971 general elections, the first of the New Order era. The provisional government replacing President Sukarno should have organized the elections in 1968. But since Suharto, who was then responsible for security, was unprepared, the elections were postponed.
Banishing those classified as Group “B” prisoners to Buru Island was validated by a letter from the Security & Order Restoration Operation Commander, No. KEP 009/KOPKAM/2/1969, signed by Maraden Panggabean on behalf of Suharto. The Attorney General complemented it by issuing another rule to “legalize” the detention on Buru from 1969 to 1979.
Meanwhile, the Group “C” prisoners, or those seen to have been influenced by leftist ideology, received additional ‘punishment’ after they were released into society. For instance, they were banned from becoming civil servants, legislators, and even from taking part in elections. The government made standard rules to justify the discrimination, such as the Home Affairs Minister’s Instruction No. 32/1981, prohibiting people directly or indirectly involved in the G30S from serving as civil servants, soldiers, the clergy, and teachers.
The question that remains unanswered: was Suharto guilty of the 1965 tragedy? After the reforms began, victims of this political tragedy actually made legal attempts to prosecute the government, rather than Suharto directly, to seek redress, rehabilitation and compensation. But all these attempts went nowhere.
The National Human Rights Commission (Komnas HAM) also formed a team to investigate the forced exile of thousands to Buru as a serious violation of human rights. M.M. Billah, a member of Komnas HAM, set up a team and submitted a proposal. But it turned out that the methodology of inquiry Billah offered was not approved by the House of Representatives (DPR) in mid-2004.
According to Billah, the charges against Suharto in the rights infringement case on Buru Island can be revived if seven out of Komnas HAM’s 20 members agreed.
“But it doesn’t guarantee that the investigation will proceed because the approval of the DPR again has to be sought,” said Billah. He acknowledged that it was very difficult to bring cases of serious rights abuse on Buru Island to court. “All relevant parties have their own self-interest,” he added, trying to explain. It is, in fact, such a portrayal that leads people
like Svetlana to be pessimistic.
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
Attempts to bring to trial cases of human rights violations during the 1965 tragedy still have a long way to go. Suharto somehow managed to remain out of the justice system’s reach.
SVETLANA, the eldest child of Nyoto, said she wanted to see Suharto prosecuted for the 1965 tragedy. The daughter of then-Deputy Chairman II of the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI) Central Committee, has never joined groups of G30S (September 30 Movement) victims’ families who are fighting the government. “I know these charges are important, but I’m pessimistic about the outcome,” she said.
According to Svetlana, her mother, Sutarni, also expects the same. But Ibu Nyoto, now 79, harbors no grudge against Suharto. In fact, she added: “Some of mother’s friends are so angered that they get sick when they hear Suharto’s exemption from prosecution.” The Nyoto family is an example of a G30S victimliving without any of the traumatic scars. Sutarni recalls how she was forced to carry her children, moving from one detention house to another, trying not to lose her sense of humor. They have no idea when and where Nyoto was killed, let alone his burial place.
Not all the G30S injured parties share the attitude of the Nyotos. Perhaps it is because the tragedy which took place 43 years ago involved a great number of people. Around 3 million people died, over 10,000 were exiled to Buru Island and millions more received discriminating treatment. The New Order, led by Suharto, created instruments that legitimized atrocities against suspected communists at that time.
Exiling over 10,000 people to Buru, for instance, was meant to safeguard the newly established regime in order to win the 1971 general elections, the first of the New Order era. The provisional government replacing President Sukarno should have organized the elections in 1968. But since Suharto, who was then responsible for security, was unprepared, the elections were postponed.
Banishing those classified as Group “B” prisoners to Buru Island was validated by a letter from the Security & Order Restoration Operation Commander, No. KEP 009/KOPKAM/2/1969, signed by Maraden Panggabean on behalf of Suharto. The Attorney General complemented it by issuing another rule to “legalize” the detention on Buru from 1969 to 1979.
Meanwhile, the Group “C” prisoners, or those seen to have been influenced by leftist ideology, received additional ‘punishment’ after they were released into society. For instance, they were banned from becoming civil servants, legislators, and even from taking part in elections. The government made standard rules to justify the discrimination, such as the Home Affairs Minister’s Instruction No. 32/1981, prohibiting people directly or indirectly involved in the G30S from serving as civil servants, soldiers, the clergy, and teachers.
The question that remains unanswered: was Suharto guilty of the 1965 tragedy? After the reforms began, victims of this political tragedy actually made legal attempts to prosecute the government, rather than Suharto directly, to seek redress, rehabilitation and compensation. But all these attempts went nowhere.
The National Human Rights Commission (Komnas HAM) also formed a team to investigate the forced exile of thousands to Buru as a serious violation of human rights. M.M. Billah, a member of Komnas HAM, set up a team and submitted a proposal. But it turned out that the methodology of inquiry Billah offered was not approved by the House of Representatives (DPR) in mid-2004.
According to Billah, the charges against Suharto in the rights infringement case on Buru Island can be revived if seven out of Komnas HAM’s 20 members agreed.
“But it doesn’t guarantee that the investigation will proceed because the approval of the DPR again has to be sought,” said Billah. He acknowledged that it was very difficult to bring cases of serious rights abuse on Buru Island to court. “All relevant parties have their own self-interest,” he added, trying to explain. It is, in fact, such a portrayal that leads people
like Svetlana to be pessimistic.
The Malari Mystery
Tempo Magazine
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
The cause of the Malari riots is still a mystery. Court trials failed to prove that university students were behind the violence.
JANUARY 15, 1974. University students hit the streets. They demonstrated against the arrival of Prime Minister Kakuei Tanaka of Japan. Tanaka was seen as the symbol of foreign capital which must be done away with. Taking the form of a long march from Salemba to Trisakti University in Grogol, West Jakarta, the action carried three demands: eradication of corruption, a change in the economic policy on foreign capital, and abolishment of the institution of Personal Assistant to the President. Hundreds of thousands of people hit the streets. The action, however, ended in turbulence.
According to Hariman, the students’ action ended at 2:30pm, “whereas the riot,” he says, “broke out an hour later.” A mob that claimed to have come from among laborers ransacked Senen Market, Blok M, and the Glodok (Chinatown) area. They went on arampage, burning Japanese-made cars and shops.
Head of the Operations Command for the Restoration of Security & Order (Kopkamtib), Gen. Sumitro, tried to block the mob around the Sarinah area of Central Jakarta. He tried to divert the mob, which was headed toward the Presidential Palace. “Come on, let’swalk together to Kebayoran,” he yelled to the crowd. “My intention was to deflect the direction of their march, away from the National Monument (Monas)…”
The mob was undeterred, however. To Tempo several years ago, Sumitro claimed to have offered a dialog between the Students Council of the University of Indonesia (UI) and Tanaka. Tanaka agreed, but the students responded with the message that “the dialog is substituted with a street dialog…”
Jakarta had in the meantime become a sea of fire. That day more than 10 people died, while hundreds were injured. Nearly 1,000 cars and motorcycles were destroyed and burned, hundreds of buildings damaged. In addition, 160 kilos of gold vanished from jewelry shops. The situation was so critical that Suharto had to escort Tanaka by helicopter to Halim airport for his return trip to his country.
Hariman Siregar, Chairman of the UI Students Council, was dragged to court on charges of subversion. After a four-month trial, he was sentenced to six years in prison.
“I was deemed guilty of subverting the authority of the state,” said Hariman when Tempo visited him in March 2006. The price he had to pay was high. While he was serving his jail term, his father died, his beloved wife fell ill, and his twin children died.
It was that storm over Jakarta on January 15, 1974 (better known as Malari, for Malapetaka Lima Belas Januari, January 15 Catastrophe) that changed the course of Indonesia, because, as Asvi Warman Adam related in an article he wrote, since then Suharto has resorted to repression in a systematic way. Syahrir, who was also detained after the incident, sees Malari as a form of consolidation of Suharto’s power.
In all, the security apparatus arrested 750 people, 50 of them student activists and intellectuals such as Hariman Siregar, Sjahrir, Yap Thiam Hien, Mochtar Lubis, Rahman Tolleng and Aini Chailid. “Imagine, on January 11, I was embraced by Suharto, on the 17th I was arrested,” recalled Hariman. Indeed, on January 11, Suharto received Hariman along with other student leaders at Bina Graha, the presidential office. Suharto had intended all the time to curb the students’ actions.
The prominent persons were detained on the basis of the Anti-subversion Law. Some released after having languished for a year in prison, because they were not proven guilty. The Anti-subversion Law-based trials drew criticism.
Until today, the mystery of the riots has not been unraveled. Sjahrir contended that the court had been unable to prove that the students were behind the burning of the cars and the looting. It should not come as a surprise if speculation arose that the Malari calamity was the fire that sparked resulting from rivalry between generals Sumitro and Ali Murtopo (respectively Chief of Special Operations and Presidential Personal Assistant at that time). Sumitro allegedly harbored
ambition, as cited in the so-called Ramadi Documents. According to Asvi Warman, Ramadi was known to be close to Ali Murtopo.
The late Sumitro confided that he had once asked Ali Murtopo about the rivalry, long before Malari occurred. “Ali, outside voices say that you are my rival. That cannot be. I’m still a military man, I have no political goals. You are a two-star, I’m a four-star. You are Intelligence Coordination Agency (Bakin) Deputy, I’m Operations Commander for the Restoration of Security & Order (Pangkopkamtib) and Armed Forces Deputy Commander (Wapangab). We are too distant from each other to be rivals. Yet, if you want to be President, that is your right.” At that time, Ali Murtopo promptly denied it. “Oh, no. nothing of that sort in my mind,” Sumitro quoted Ali as responding.
The Malari affair eventually caused both generals to lose their jobs. Suharto relieved Sumitro from his posts as Pangkopkamtib and Wapangab and at the same time abolished the institution of Presidential Special Assistant. Even so, several years later Suharto still employed Ali Murtopo to fill various positions in the bureaucracy.
More than three decades have passed, yet today mystery still shrouds the affair. In his biography, Suharto does not mention that dark period. Hariman must continue believing that the government would soon unravel the mystery.
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
The cause of the Malari riots is still a mystery. Court trials failed to prove that university students were behind the violence.
JANUARY 15, 1974. University students hit the streets. They demonstrated against the arrival of Prime Minister Kakuei Tanaka of Japan. Tanaka was seen as the symbol of foreign capital which must be done away with. Taking the form of a long march from Salemba to Trisakti University in Grogol, West Jakarta, the action carried three demands: eradication of corruption, a change in the economic policy on foreign capital, and abolishment of the institution of Personal Assistant to the President. Hundreds of thousands of people hit the streets. The action, however, ended in turbulence.
According to Hariman, the students’ action ended at 2:30pm, “whereas the riot,” he says, “broke out an hour later.” A mob that claimed to have come from among laborers ransacked Senen Market, Blok M, and the Glodok (Chinatown) area. They went on arampage, burning Japanese-made cars and shops.
Head of the Operations Command for the Restoration of Security & Order (Kopkamtib), Gen. Sumitro, tried to block the mob around the Sarinah area of Central Jakarta. He tried to divert the mob, which was headed toward the Presidential Palace. “Come on, let’swalk together to Kebayoran,” he yelled to the crowd. “My intention was to deflect the direction of their march, away from the National Monument (Monas)…”
The mob was undeterred, however. To Tempo several years ago, Sumitro claimed to have offered a dialog between the Students Council of the University of Indonesia (UI) and Tanaka. Tanaka agreed, but the students responded with the message that “the dialog is substituted with a street dialog…”
Jakarta had in the meantime become a sea of fire. That day more than 10 people died, while hundreds were injured. Nearly 1,000 cars and motorcycles were destroyed and burned, hundreds of buildings damaged. In addition, 160 kilos of gold vanished from jewelry shops. The situation was so critical that Suharto had to escort Tanaka by helicopter to Halim airport for his return trip to his country.
Hariman Siregar, Chairman of the UI Students Council, was dragged to court on charges of subversion. After a four-month trial, he was sentenced to six years in prison.
“I was deemed guilty of subverting the authority of the state,” said Hariman when Tempo visited him in March 2006. The price he had to pay was high. While he was serving his jail term, his father died, his beloved wife fell ill, and his twin children died.
It was that storm over Jakarta on January 15, 1974 (better known as Malari, for Malapetaka Lima Belas Januari, January 15 Catastrophe) that changed the course of Indonesia, because, as Asvi Warman Adam related in an article he wrote, since then Suharto has resorted to repression in a systematic way. Syahrir, who was also detained after the incident, sees Malari as a form of consolidation of Suharto’s power.
In all, the security apparatus arrested 750 people, 50 of them student activists and intellectuals such as Hariman Siregar, Sjahrir, Yap Thiam Hien, Mochtar Lubis, Rahman Tolleng and Aini Chailid. “Imagine, on January 11, I was embraced by Suharto, on the 17th I was arrested,” recalled Hariman. Indeed, on January 11, Suharto received Hariman along with other student leaders at Bina Graha, the presidential office. Suharto had intended all the time to curb the students’ actions.
The prominent persons were detained on the basis of the Anti-subversion Law. Some released after having languished for a year in prison, because they were not proven guilty. The Anti-subversion Law-based trials drew criticism.
Until today, the mystery of the riots has not been unraveled. Sjahrir contended that the court had been unable to prove that the students were behind the burning of the cars and the looting. It should not come as a surprise if speculation arose that the Malari calamity was the fire that sparked resulting from rivalry between generals Sumitro and Ali Murtopo (respectively Chief of Special Operations and Presidential Personal Assistant at that time). Sumitro allegedly harbored
ambition, as cited in the so-called Ramadi Documents. According to Asvi Warman, Ramadi was known to be close to Ali Murtopo.
The late Sumitro confided that he had once asked Ali Murtopo about the rivalry, long before Malari occurred. “Ali, outside voices say that you are my rival. That cannot be. I’m still a military man, I have no political goals. You are a two-star, I’m a four-star. You are Intelligence Coordination Agency (Bakin) Deputy, I’m Operations Commander for the Restoration of Security & Order (Pangkopkamtib) and Armed Forces Deputy Commander (Wapangab). We are too distant from each other to be rivals. Yet, if you want to be President, that is your right.” At that time, Ali Murtopo promptly denied it. “Oh, no. nothing of that sort in my mind,” Sumitro quoted Ali as responding.
The Malari affair eventually caused both generals to lose their jobs. Suharto relieved Sumitro from his posts as Pangkopkamtib and Wapangab and at the same time abolished the institution of Presidential Special Assistant. Even so, several years later Suharto still employed Ali Murtopo to fill various positions in the bureaucracy.
More than three decades have passed, yet today mystery still shrouds the affair. In his biography, Suharto does not mention that dark period. Hariman must continue believing that the government would soon unravel the mystery.
Bloody Dawn at Talangsari
Tempo Magazine
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
Members of a Qu’ran reading group were shot. They were accused of planning to create an Islamic state.
IT was dawn and drizzling at Talangsari, 19 years ago on Monday, February 7. Muslims were preparing for their prayers. The sounds of gunshots were suddenly heard. The noise made by bullets whizzing by could be heard by Warsidi’s followers in a hamlet within the district of Way Jepara, Central Lampung. The cries of people broke the silence.
Four Mobile Brigade platoons of the Black Garuda Military Area Command of Central Lampung were charging as if seeking revenge. They were under Col, A.M. Hendropriyono. The followers of Warsidi were known as a religious learning group. But the military accused them of conspiring to form an Islamic state.
Members of Warsidi’s group had quarreled with the local police force several times. Way Jepara Military Precinct Commander, Captain Sutiman once summoned Anwar, one of the group’s leaders. Anwar refused to comply, asking instead, that Sutiman come to his home. Way Jepara district chief, Zulkifli, later sent anorder for him to appear at the police station.
Anwar still failed to comply.
Accompanied by a few security men, Sutiman and Zulkifli then drove to Anwar’s house. According to the military’s version, this team was attacked with bows and arrows and slingshots. Sutiman died. The bloody fighting continued at dawn the following day.
The total number of victims is confusing. The military version listed 27 people dead. But several non-governmental organizations recorded 246 people killed. The government hunted down the group’s leaders in Jakarta and Central Java. Some of its supporters were arrested and jailed.
Like other human tragedies, the voice of Talangsari victims could be heard when Suharto fell on May 21, 1998. The victims and human rights activists demanded that the government bring those who took part in the shooting to trial.
In June 2001, the National Human Rights Commission (Komnas HAM)set up an ad hoc team to investigate the case. The outcome was unclear. Later Komnas HAM formed a team of inquiry. It visited the scene and interviewed the victims, their families and others involved. The investigation ended in the middle of May 2006.
The settlement of this case will likely be full of ups and downs. The team’s findings are yet to be subjected to legalanalysis. It will be further examined, depending on the’serious’ classification of the human rights violation in the Talangsari tragedy. The results will again be discussed at a Komnas HAM plenary meeting.
If the plenary session finds no serious rights were infringed, the case needs only to be settled through the general court. Butif any serious rights violation is discovered, there would be two options; one is through Law No. 26/2000 on the human rightstribunal, but others say that the proper agency to settle suchcases should be the Truth & Reconciliation Commission.
The path faced by the rights activists and victims of the Talangsari incident is long and winding. Ahmad Fauzi Isnan,sentenced to 20 years in prison, hoped that Komnas HAM could resolve the case. The soldiers involved, he said, had now become high-ranking officials, even striving for power. “They are trying hard with all possible means, not to be called war criminals,” he remarked.
Other victims expect the government to come up with a comprehensive solution. “We urge that the government promptly bring the case to court. Avoid unnecessary delay,” said Azwir Kaili, head of families of Talangsari victims.
Hendropriyono himself preferred the peaceful path. In February 2000, as head of the State Intelligence Agency (BIN), he invited 80 victims and their families to his residence in Jakarta to discuss an islah (peaceful settlement). This choice was opposed by some of the victims.
Later, many who joined the islah, chose to withdraw. Now the case is being analyzed at Komnas HAM.
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
Members of a Qu’ran reading group were shot. They were accused of planning to create an Islamic state.
IT was dawn and drizzling at Talangsari, 19 years ago on Monday, February 7. Muslims were preparing for their prayers. The sounds of gunshots were suddenly heard. The noise made by bullets whizzing by could be heard by Warsidi’s followers in a hamlet within the district of Way Jepara, Central Lampung. The cries of people broke the silence.
Four Mobile Brigade platoons of the Black Garuda Military Area Command of Central Lampung were charging as if seeking revenge. They were under Col, A.M. Hendropriyono. The followers of Warsidi were known as a religious learning group. But the military accused them of conspiring to form an Islamic state.
Members of Warsidi’s group had quarreled with the local police force several times. Way Jepara Military Precinct Commander, Captain Sutiman once summoned Anwar, one of the group’s leaders. Anwar refused to comply, asking instead, that Sutiman come to his home. Way Jepara district chief, Zulkifli, later sent anorder for him to appear at the police station.
Anwar still failed to comply.
Accompanied by a few security men, Sutiman and Zulkifli then drove to Anwar’s house. According to the military’s version, this team was attacked with bows and arrows and slingshots. Sutiman died. The bloody fighting continued at dawn the following day.
The total number of victims is confusing. The military version listed 27 people dead. But several non-governmental organizations recorded 246 people killed. The government hunted down the group’s leaders in Jakarta and Central Java. Some of its supporters were arrested and jailed.
Like other human tragedies, the voice of Talangsari victims could be heard when Suharto fell on May 21, 1998. The victims and human rights activists demanded that the government bring those who took part in the shooting to trial.
In June 2001, the National Human Rights Commission (Komnas HAM)set up an ad hoc team to investigate the case. The outcome was unclear. Later Komnas HAM formed a team of inquiry. It visited the scene and interviewed the victims, their families and others involved. The investigation ended in the middle of May 2006.
The settlement of this case will likely be full of ups and downs. The team’s findings are yet to be subjected to legalanalysis. It will be further examined, depending on the’serious’ classification of the human rights violation in the Talangsari tragedy. The results will again be discussed at a Komnas HAM plenary meeting.
If the plenary session finds no serious rights were infringed, the case needs only to be settled through the general court. Butif any serious rights violation is discovered, there would be two options; one is through Law No. 26/2000 on the human rightstribunal, but others say that the proper agency to settle suchcases should be the Truth & Reconciliation Commission.
The path faced by the rights activists and victims of the Talangsari incident is long and winding. Ahmad Fauzi Isnan,sentenced to 20 years in prison, hoped that Komnas HAM could resolve the case. The soldiers involved, he said, had now become high-ranking officials, even striving for power. “They are trying hard with all possible means, not to be called war criminals,” he remarked.
Other victims expect the government to come up with a comprehensive solution. “We urge that the government promptly bring the case to court. Avoid unnecessary delay,” said Azwir Kaili, head of families of Talangsari victims.
Hendropriyono himself preferred the peaceful path. In February 2000, as head of the State Intelligence Agency (BIN), he invited 80 victims and their families to his residence in Jakarta to discuss an islah (peaceful settlement). This choice was opposed by some of the victims.
Later, many who joined the islah, chose to withdraw. Now the case is being analyzed at Komnas HAM.
Tragedy at Night
Tempo Magazine
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
Hundreds died in the Tanjung Priok tragedy, but the perpetrators were released by the court.
THE uproar started with a poster, which read “Women Should Wear Jilbab (Muslim Headscarf)”. It was hung on the wall of Mussola (house of worship) As-Sa’adah at Tanjung Priok, North Jakarta. It was not an unusual appeal, but in September 1984 it caused a tragedy.
The political temperature at that time had neared boiling point. The Suharto government was busy campaigning for the nation to adopt Pancasila (five philosophies) as its sole national ideology, which was sharply resisted by the Muslim community.
Then, one morning on September 7, 1984, First Sergeant Hermanu, a member of the Village Voluntary Security Group (Babinsa) of South Koja in North Jakarta asked local residents to pull down the posters in the mushola. They refused. The next morning Hermanu came back to clean up the posters himself, using newspapers dampened by sewer water.
Rumors spread that Hermanu entered the mushola without taking off his boots. The mushola became dirty. The angered residentswanted to teach the Babinsa member a lesson, but a community leader rescued him from harm. Instead, the residents set Hermanu’s motorcycle on fire.
The military from the Tanjung Priok District Military Command (Kodim) appeared in no time. Four youths who allegedly set fire to the motorcycle were taken to Kodim HQ. Residents asked Amir Biki, a community leader in Tanjung Priok, to help free the four youths. In vain.
The protesting residents then congregated at Sindang Raya, a street in Tanjung Priok. There, a number of prominent community leaders aired their views, including Amir Biki. Not only did they criticize the government’s campaign to adopt a single national ideology, they also demanded the release of the four youths, declaring a deadline of 11pm that day. Otherwise, the mass action would continue. The Kodim rejected the demand.
The protestors then moved to the Kodim HQ. On the way, in front of the North Jakarta Police Office, the protestors were blocked by the police. There were gunshots. Chaos broke out and spread. A number of shops owned by ethnic Chinese were looted.
According to the government official version, there were only 28 deaths, but according to family members of the victims, around 700 residents died in the tragedy. Amir Biki himself died, hit by a bullet. A number of prominent figures like Qodir Djaelani, Tony Ardi and Mawardi, were arrested.
Under Suharto’s rule, this incident was never investigated. Only after his resignation did authorities finally address the tragedy. The victims and their families called for the government to bring Suharto and members of the military involved in the tragedy to court.
The case was tried in an ad hoc human rights court. The perpetrators were made to account for their actions before the law. Among them was Maj. Gen. Sriyanto Muntasram, who at the trial was Commander of the Army Special Forces (Kopassus). Sriyanto, who at the time of the incident was Section Head of Kodim 0502 Operation II in North Jakarta, was accused of being involved in the incident. In August 2004, the court acquitted Sriyanto. The Supreme Court revalidated the ruling on September 2005.
Maj. Gen. (ret) Pranowo, who at the time of the incident was Military Police Chief of the Greater Jakarta Military Command, was also tried. He was accused of allowing his subordinates to torture the arrested demonstrators. The judge failed to find Pranowo guilty and he was acquitted.
A few other officers were found guilty in the lower court, but acquitted by a higher one. Maj. Gen. (ret) Rudolf Butar-Butar, who at the time of the incident was Kodim 0502 North Jakarta Commander, was sentenced to 10 years in jail at the first trial in June 2005. But the Jakarta High Court later acquitted him.Lower-ranked military personnel involved in the incident received differing sentences, ranging from two to three years.
The verdicts were criticized by the victims and their families. “There was no consideration for the feelings of the victims and their families. No sense of justice at all,” said Benny Biki, Amir Biki’s younger brother.
The victims’ families urged the government to take legal action against senior officials like Gen. (ret) Try Sutrisno, a former Vice President who was at the time commander of the Jakarta Garrison, Benny Moerdani (former Kopkamtib chief, now deceased), and Suharto as the President.
When the Attorney General’s Office stopped the legal process against Suharto because of his illness, victims of the Tanjung Priok tragedy and their families lodged a strong protest. “We feel devastated that the legal process was discontinued,” said Ratono, Chairman of the Tanjung Priok Victims Association. It was Suharto’s policies that caused them to lose their families and possessions. By their rationale, possessions can bereplaced. But what of the loss of loved ones?
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
Hundreds died in the Tanjung Priok tragedy, but the perpetrators were released by the court.
THE uproar started with a poster, which read “Women Should Wear Jilbab (Muslim Headscarf)”. It was hung on the wall of Mussola (house of worship) As-Sa’adah at Tanjung Priok, North Jakarta. It was not an unusual appeal, but in September 1984 it caused a tragedy.
The political temperature at that time had neared boiling point. The Suharto government was busy campaigning for the nation to adopt Pancasila (five philosophies) as its sole national ideology, which was sharply resisted by the Muslim community.
Then, one morning on September 7, 1984, First Sergeant Hermanu, a member of the Village Voluntary Security Group (Babinsa) of South Koja in North Jakarta asked local residents to pull down the posters in the mushola. They refused. The next morning Hermanu came back to clean up the posters himself, using newspapers dampened by sewer water.
Rumors spread that Hermanu entered the mushola without taking off his boots. The mushola became dirty. The angered residentswanted to teach the Babinsa member a lesson, but a community leader rescued him from harm. Instead, the residents set Hermanu’s motorcycle on fire.
The military from the Tanjung Priok District Military Command (Kodim) appeared in no time. Four youths who allegedly set fire to the motorcycle were taken to Kodim HQ. Residents asked Amir Biki, a community leader in Tanjung Priok, to help free the four youths. In vain.
The protesting residents then congregated at Sindang Raya, a street in Tanjung Priok. There, a number of prominent community leaders aired their views, including Amir Biki. Not only did they criticize the government’s campaign to adopt a single national ideology, they also demanded the release of the four youths, declaring a deadline of 11pm that day. Otherwise, the mass action would continue. The Kodim rejected the demand.
The protestors then moved to the Kodim HQ. On the way, in front of the North Jakarta Police Office, the protestors were blocked by the police. There were gunshots. Chaos broke out and spread. A number of shops owned by ethnic Chinese were looted.
According to the government official version, there were only 28 deaths, but according to family members of the victims, around 700 residents died in the tragedy. Amir Biki himself died, hit by a bullet. A number of prominent figures like Qodir Djaelani, Tony Ardi and Mawardi, were arrested.
Under Suharto’s rule, this incident was never investigated. Only after his resignation did authorities finally address the tragedy. The victims and their families called for the government to bring Suharto and members of the military involved in the tragedy to court.
The case was tried in an ad hoc human rights court. The perpetrators were made to account for their actions before the law. Among them was Maj. Gen. Sriyanto Muntasram, who at the trial was Commander of the Army Special Forces (Kopassus). Sriyanto, who at the time of the incident was Section Head of Kodim 0502 Operation II in North Jakarta, was accused of being involved in the incident. In August 2004, the court acquitted Sriyanto. The Supreme Court revalidated the ruling on September 2005.
Maj. Gen. (ret) Pranowo, who at the time of the incident was Military Police Chief of the Greater Jakarta Military Command, was also tried. He was accused of allowing his subordinates to torture the arrested demonstrators. The judge failed to find Pranowo guilty and he was acquitted.
A few other officers were found guilty in the lower court, but acquitted by a higher one. Maj. Gen. (ret) Rudolf Butar-Butar, who at the time of the incident was Kodim 0502 North Jakarta Commander, was sentenced to 10 years in jail at the first trial in June 2005. But the Jakarta High Court later acquitted him.Lower-ranked military personnel involved in the incident received differing sentences, ranging from two to three years.
The verdicts were criticized by the victims and their families. “There was no consideration for the feelings of the victims and their families. No sense of justice at all,” said Benny Biki, Amir Biki’s younger brother.
The victims’ families urged the government to take legal action against senior officials like Gen. (ret) Try Sutrisno, a former Vice President who was at the time commander of the Jakarta Garrison, Benny Moerdani (former Kopkamtib chief, now deceased), and Suharto as the President.
When the Attorney General’s Office stopped the legal process against Suharto because of his illness, victims of the Tanjung Priok tragedy and their families lodged a strong protest. “We feel devastated that the legal process was discontinued,” said Ratono, Chairman of the Tanjung Priok Victims Association. It was Suharto’s policies that caused them to lose their families and possessions. By their rationale, possessions can bereplaced. But what of the loss of loved ones?
Trisakti’s Testimony
Tempo Magazine
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
The death of four Trisakti University students triggered the reform movement. But the legal action against the killers seems never-ending.
May 12, 1998
THE parking lot at Trisakti University was filled with people at 11am. Professors, lecturers, students, employees and alumni had gathered to hear a speech by ex-Army Chief, General Abdul Haris Nasution.
By noon, more people had come. It was getting quite hot when about 5,000 students shouted in unison, “Lower the prices of basic necessities! Political Reform! Suharto, step down!”
The senior general, Abdul Haris, failed to make an appearance but the students refused to cancel their big rally to the parliament (DPR) building at Senayan, Central Jakarta, over 10 kilometers from the university.
Around 12pm, about 100 meters out of the campus, a cordon of security forces comprising the West Jakarta Military Command, the Police Mobile Brigade and ‘riot-control’ police stood blocking the roads, ready to intercept the Trisakti students.
Student representative, Trisakti Law School Dean Adi Andojo, and West Jakarta Military Command chief Lt. Col. Amril Amin began negotiations. The result: the peaceful protest march was to reach in front of the old office building of the West Jakarta Mayor’s Office, which was some 300 meters away from the campus.
Adi met the students after the negotiation. “I ask all of you to promise there will be no violence at this place,” he said, whereupon the students applauded. The rally was orderly. Occasionally the students exchanged friendly remarks with the security apparatus, giving them drinks, candies and roses.
At about 4:30pm the security troops asked that the rally be disbanded and the students retreat to the campus. A tense argument ensued. According to witnesses, while they were moving toward the campus, some of the security men made insulting remarks. “It looked as if the police deliberately provoked the students to anger,” said a witness.
Suddenly rifle shots shattered the afternoon air. The students scurried about for shelter since many had not yet entered the campus, even though it was later discovered that even the campus was no longer a “sanctuary,” safe from the violence.
For almost an hour shots were fired at the campus. Hundreds of people were injured. Four students died-Elang Mulia Lesmana, Hafidin Royan, Heri Hartanto and Hendriawan Sie.
Much later, the military prosecutor would accuse the commander of Police Mobile Brigade Unit II, Chief Inspector Erick Kadir Sully of firing the shots. He and 10 of his men were assigned to West Jakarta that day. At about 1:30pm-as stated in the military prosecutor’s indictment-an order came from the West Jakarta Deputy Police Chief, Major Herman Hamid, deploying them to the mayor’s office, to intercept the students who were heading towards the DPR complex.
At that moment, Erick-again according to the military prosecutor’s charges-ordered his men, who were armed with 5.56-caliber Steyr guns, to shoot into the crowd.
This type of bullet was later found inside the bodies of thedead students, following a ballistic test done in Montreal, Canada, and Belfast, Northern Ireland.
The commission investigating human rights violations at Trisakti University, Semanggi I and Semanggi II, has its version of the tragic events that unfolded that day. According to the commission, the combined security forces had attacked, beaten, kicked and shot live bullets and thrown tear gas canisters at students taking cover at the old office building of the West Jakarta Mayor, as well as at those who had returned to the campus.
This incident at Trisakti triggered riots in various places in Jakarta. Student demonstrations were rampant everywhere, and culminated with students occupying the DPR/MPR building for four days until Suharto stepped down on May 21.
We know that the legal process on this case only went so far as to involve a few perpetrators who were on the ground. Details: May 12, 1998
Four Trisakti students are shot dead.
August 12, 1998
Two police Brimob members are sentenced to 34 months in prison March 31 1999
Four other Brimob members receive a similar punishment.
So, where is the accountability of the generals who gave the order for the troops-who were convicted-to shoot? They remain at large, untouched by the law.
There are plans to try them at a human rights court later on. But the fact is that they are only “remembered” during the May 12 annual commemoration, when students call for justice for four
youths who died an early death.
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story
The death of four Trisakti University students triggered the reform movement. But the legal action against the killers seems never-ending.
May 12, 1998
THE parking lot at Trisakti University was filled with people at 11am. Professors, lecturers, students, employees and alumni had gathered to hear a speech by ex-Army Chief, General Abdul Haris Nasution.
By noon, more people had come. It was getting quite hot when about 5,000 students shouted in unison, “Lower the prices of basic necessities! Political Reform! Suharto, step down!”
The senior general, Abdul Haris, failed to make an appearance but the students refused to cancel their big rally to the parliament (DPR) building at Senayan, Central Jakarta, over 10 kilometers from the university.
Around 12pm, about 100 meters out of the campus, a cordon of security forces comprising the West Jakarta Military Command, the Police Mobile Brigade and ‘riot-control’ police stood blocking the roads, ready to intercept the Trisakti students.
Student representative, Trisakti Law School Dean Adi Andojo, and West Jakarta Military Command chief Lt. Col. Amril Amin began negotiations. The result: the peaceful protest march was to reach in front of the old office building of the West Jakarta Mayor’s Office, which was some 300 meters away from the campus.
Adi met the students after the negotiation. “I ask all of you to promise there will be no violence at this place,” he said, whereupon the students applauded. The rally was orderly. Occasionally the students exchanged friendly remarks with the security apparatus, giving them drinks, candies and roses.
At about 4:30pm the security troops asked that the rally be disbanded and the students retreat to the campus. A tense argument ensued. According to witnesses, while they were moving toward the campus, some of the security men made insulting remarks. “It looked as if the police deliberately provoked the students to anger,” said a witness.
Suddenly rifle shots shattered the afternoon air. The students scurried about for shelter since many had not yet entered the campus, even though it was later discovered that even the campus was no longer a “sanctuary,” safe from the violence.
For almost an hour shots were fired at the campus. Hundreds of people were injured. Four students died-Elang Mulia Lesmana, Hafidin Royan, Heri Hartanto and Hendriawan Sie.
Much later, the military prosecutor would accuse the commander of Police Mobile Brigade Unit II, Chief Inspector Erick Kadir Sully of firing the shots. He and 10 of his men were assigned to West Jakarta that day. At about 1:30pm-as stated in the military prosecutor’s indictment-an order came from the West Jakarta Deputy Police Chief, Major Herman Hamid, deploying them to the mayor’s office, to intercept the students who were heading towards the DPR complex.
At that moment, Erick-again according to the military prosecutor’s charges-ordered his men, who were armed with 5.56-caliber Steyr guns, to shoot into the crowd.
This type of bullet was later found inside the bodies of thedead students, following a ballistic test done in Montreal, Canada, and Belfast, Northern Ireland.
The commission investigating human rights violations at Trisakti University, Semanggi I and Semanggi II, has its version of the tragic events that unfolded that day. According to the commission, the combined security forces had attacked, beaten, kicked and shot live bullets and thrown tear gas canisters at students taking cover at the old office building of the West Jakarta Mayor, as well as at those who had returned to the campus.
This incident at Trisakti triggered riots in various places in Jakarta. Student demonstrations were rampant everywhere, and culminated with students occupying the DPR/MPR building for four days until Suharto stepped down on May 21.
We know that the legal process on this case only went so far as to involve a few perpetrators who were on the ground. Details: May 12, 1998
Four Trisakti students are shot dead.
August 12, 1998
Two police Brimob members are sentenced to 34 months in prison March 31 1999
Four other Brimob members receive a similar punishment.
So, where is the accountability of the generals who gave the order for the troops-who were convicted-to shoot? They remain at large, untouched by the law.
There are plans to try them at a human rights court later on. But the fact is that they are only “remembered” during the May 12 annual commemoration, when students call for justice for four
youths who died an early death.
Suharto’s political opponents were of varying ages, ideological views and social backgrounds, but they all spoke out.
Tempo Magazine
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story: Voicing Opposition
Pramoedya Ananta Toer (1925-2006)
IN 1973, President Suharto sent a letter to Pramoedya Ananta Toer, who was in exile on Buru Island. Suharto said that to err was human, and this should be followed by other human tendencies, namely honesty, bravery and the ability to find the right path.
Pramoedya had to suffer exile after the New Order emerged as the winner in the political tempest of 1965. As a member of the People’s Cultural Body (Lekra), which was affiliated with the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI)-the side which lost-he was sent to prison for 14 years. His guilt was never proven in court.
When he left prison in 1979, he was not free to conduct activities. For some time he was under house arrest. His home was watched by intelligence officials. Worst of all, he was muzzled, prevented from speaking out in the media.
Pramoedya passed away on April 30, 2006. Up until the end of his life, he stuck to his principles. This was apparent in the reply he sent to Suharto in November 1973. He said: “My parents taught me to love truth, justice, beauty, knowledge, and the homeland…”
Amien Rais
OF the many factors which came together and led to the downfall of Suharto in 1998, one was the efforts of Amien Rais. The socioeconomic condition, which had worsened over the year until May 1998, drove Amien to take a firm stance. “I am ready to takecharge of ‘people power’ if needed, on the condition that therebe no bloodshed,” he said in May 1998.
Amien was not a newcomer to the political stage. After being chosen as Chairman of the Muhammadiyah Executive Board (1995),he made many pointed criticisms. Amien was the first to speak for the concept of (presidential) succession-a sensitive issue at that time (1993). “My conscience led me,” he said, commentingon his bravery.
After that, he made many public criticisms, including the Busang gold mine. In 1996, Amien joined others in developing the publicdiscourse on the need for reformasi in Indonesia. His exploits led to his expulsion from the Indonesian Association of Muslim Intellectuals (ICMI) in 1997.
When Indonesia was hit by economic crisis in 1997, Amien and other prominent Indonesians continued to promote the reformasi concept. Together with 50 public figures, Amien formed the People’s Mandate Council (MAR). At a press conference on May 14, 1998, MAR called on President Suharto to immediately resign.
Events unfolded quickly. The Indonesian Republic was overdue for a change. On May 21, Suharto fell due to strong public pressure. Amien was then given the title of Leader of Reforms.
Budiman Sudjatmiko
BUDIMAN Sudjatmiko’s greatest opposition to Suharto and his New Order regime was to establish the Democratic People’s Party (PRD). Launched in July 1996, the party was based on a socialist-democratic foundation. Budiman became the party chairman. A week after the birth of the PRD, a bloody clash took place at the office of the Indonesian Democratic Party (PDI) on Jalan Diponegoro. This clash triggered riots in several parts ofthe Indonesian capital. As a result, as noted by the NationalHuman Rights Commission, five died and 23 went missing.
The government accused the PRD of being behind the rioting. PRD activists were hunted down, and Budiman and his friends were arrested. Budiman was sentenced to 13 years in prison for subversive activity. Budiman continued his opposition from behind bars. He staged a hunger strike and turned down an offerof presidential clemency. He also directed his party from prison.
Since Suharto’s downfall and the emergence of new national leaders, Budiman has never seen a serious effort from thegovernment to put the New Order leader on trial for his crimes. He was angered when the Attorney General issued an Order to StopProsecution (SKPP) on the Suharto case. “It is immoral to take Suharto’s health or humanitarian reasons into consideration,” said Budiman, who is currently Secretary-General of theVolunteers for the Struggle of Democracy-an organizational wing of the Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle (PDI-P).
Sjahrir
ONE day in 1970 a group of university students met with President Suharto to demand the eradication of corruption.Sjahrir and Akbar Tandjung, students at the University of Indonesia, were among them. During a break in the dialog, Akbar was thirsty and reached for a beverage which had been prepared for them. Sjahrir quickly stopped Akbar from taking it. Suharto saw what happened and got angry. “Don’t drink it if you don’t want to,” he snapped.
Sjahrir felt that this was the source of Suharto’s dislike ofhim. Something else that Suharto definitely did not like waswhen Sjahrir and others formed an anticorruption committee. When the Malari riots erupted in 1974, Sjahrir was one of the many students and academics who were sent to jail.
In prison, Sjahrir continued to be critical. He wrote articles which were published in famous publications such as Prisma. Of course, he did not use his own name. “My writings were published under the name of Daniel Dakhidae or Aini Chalid,” he said.
After getting out of prison, Sjahrir pursued his doctoral degree at Harvard. After completing his studies, Sjahrir continued his exploits. He pioneered the founding of the School of Social Science (SIS), which ran for three years before being banned by the government. He then founded the Padi Kapas Foundation and wrote critical reports for the media. His main theme was clear, namely opposition towards government monopolies and oligopoly during the 1980s. “Government policies should not be used to enrich the President’s family,” he emphasized.
Benny Biki
BENNY Biki, 46, said a prayer for an ailing former President Suharto at Pertamina Central Hospital, in May 2006. “HopefullyPak Harto will get well soon, so that the legal process [against him] can go forward and he can soon stand trial,” he told Tempo.
Benny has his reasons for making such a prayer. His older brother, Amir Biki, was killed during a clash with security forces in Tanjung Priok, 22 years ago.
The Tanjung Priok tragedy was the climax of the Biki brothers’ opposition to the New Order regime. A few days earlier, the two had been mobilizing a crowd to protest against the law on public organizations, which had named Pancasila as the sole source of national doctrine. They felt that this law was at odds with Article 28 of the Indonesian Constitution.
Since this tragedy, which took the lives of scores of people, Benny Biki has led families of the victims in campaigns to demand justice.
No. 23/VIII
February 05-11, 2008
Cover Story: Voicing Opposition
Pramoedya Ananta Toer (1925-2006)
IN 1973, President Suharto sent a letter to Pramoedya Ananta Toer, who was in exile on Buru Island. Suharto said that to err was human, and this should be followed by other human tendencies, namely honesty, bravery and the ability to find the right path.
Pramoedya had to suffer exile after the New Order emerged as the winner in the political tempest of 1965. As a member of the People’s Cultural Body (Lekra), which was affiliated with the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI)-the side which lost-he was sent to prison for 14 years. His guilt was never proven in court.
When he left prison in 1979, he was not free to conduct activities. For some time he was under house arrest. His home was watched by intelligence officials. Worst of all, he was muzzled, prevented from speaking out in the media.
Pramoedya passed away on April 30, 2006. Up until the end of his life, he stuck to his principles. This was apparent in the reply he sent to Suharto in November 1973. He said: “My parents taught me to love truth, justice, beauty, knowledge, and the homeland…”
Amien Rais
OF the many factors which came together and led to the downfall of Suharto in 1998, one was the efforts of Amien Rais. The socioeconomic condition, which had worsened over the year until May 1998, drove Amien to take a firm stance. “I am ready to takecharge of ‘people power’ if needed, on the condition that therebe no bloodshed,” he said in May 1998.
Amien was not a newcomer to the political stage. After being chosen as Chairman of the Muhammadiyah Executive Board (1995),he made many pointed criticisms. Amien was the first to speak for the concept of (presidential) succession-a sensitive issue at that time (1993). “My conscience led me,” he said, commentingon his bravery.
After that, he made many public criticisms, including the Busang gold mine. In 1996, Amien joined others in developing the publicdiscourse on the need for reformasi in Indonesia. His exploits led to his expulsion from the Indonesian Association of Muslim Intellectuals (ICMI) in 1997.
When Indonesia was hit by economic crisis in 1997, Amien and other prominent Indonesians continued to promote the reformasi concept. Together with 50 public figures, Amien formed the People’s Mandate Council (MAR). At a press conference on May 14, 1998, MAR called on President Suharto to immediately resign.
Events unfolded quickly. The Indonesian Republic was overdue for a change. On May 21, Suharto fell due to strong public pressure. Amien was then given the title of Leader of Reforms.
Budiman Sudjatmiko
BUDIMAN Sudjatmiko’s greatest opposition to Suharto and his New Order regime was to establish the Democratic People’s Party (PRD). Launched in July 1996, the party was based on a socialist-democratic foundation. Budiman became the party chairman. A week after the birth of the PRD, a bloody clash took place at the office of the Indonesian Democratic Party (PDI) on Jalan Diponegoro. This clash triggered riots in several parts ofthe Indonesian capital. As a result, as noted by the NationalHuman Rights Commission, five died and 23 went missing.
The government accused the PRD of being behind the rioting. PRD activists were hunted down, and Budiman and his friends were arrested. Budiman was sentenced to 13 years in prison for subversive activity. Budiman continued his opposition from behind bars. He staged a hunger strike and turned down an offerof presidential clemency. He also directed his party from prison.
Since Suharto’s downfall and the emergence of new national leaders, Budiman has never seen a serious effort from thegovernment to put the New Order leader on trial for his crimes. He was angered when the Attorney General issued an Order to StopProsecution (SKPP) on the Suharto case. “It is immoral to take Suharto’s health or humanitarian reasons into consideration,” said Budiman, who is currently Secretary-General of theVolunteers for the Struggle of Democracy-an organizational wing of the Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle (PDI-P).
Sjahrir
ONE day in 1970 a group of university students met with President Suharto to demand the eradication of corruption.Sjahrir and Akbar Tandjung, students at the University of Indonesia, were among them. During a break in the dialog, Akbar was thirsty and reached for a beverage which had been prepared for them. Sjahrir quickly stopped Akbar from taking it. Suharto saw what happened and got angry. “Don’t drink it if you don’t want to,” he snapped.
Sjahrir felt that this was the source of Suharto’s dislike ofhim. Something else that Suharto definitely did not like waswhen Sjahrir and others formed an anticorruption committee. When the Malari riots erupted in 1974, Sjahrir was one of the many students and academics who were sent to jail.
In prison, Sjahrir continued to be critical. He wrote articles which were published in famous publications such as Prisma. Of course, he did not use his own name. “My writings were published under the name of Daniel Dakhidae or Aini Chalid,” he said.
After getting out of prison, Sjahrir pursued his doctoral degree at Harvard. After completing his studies, Sjahrir continued his exploits. He pioneered the founding of the School of Social Science (SIS), which ran for three years before being banned by the government. He then founded the Padi Kapas Foundation and wrote critical reports for the media. His main theme was clear, namely opposition towards government monopolies and oligopoly during the 1980s. “Government policies should not be used to enrich the President’s family,” he emphasized.
Benny Biki
BENNY Biki, 46, said a prayer for an ailing former President Suharto at Pertamina Central Hospital, in May 2006. “HopefullyPak Harto will get well soon, so that the legal process [against him] can go forward and he can soon stand trial,” he told Tempo.
Benny has his reasons for making such a prayer. His older brother, Amir Biki, was killed during a clash with security forces in Tanjung Priok, 22 years ago.
The Tanjung Priok tragedy was the climax of the Biki brothers’ opposition to the New Order regime. A few days earlier, the two had been mobilizing a crowd to protest against the law on public organizations, which had named Pancasila as the sole source of national doctrine. They felt that this law was at odds with Article 28 of the Indonesian Constitution.
Since this tragedy, which took the lives of scores of people, Benny Biki has led families of the victims in campaigns to demand justice.
Kamis, 07 Februari 2008
The National (PNG): Western nations ‘had vested interest in Suharto regime’
By JOHN PASSANT
WAR criminal Suharto is dead. Look for the tears from his Western supporters
.
In their hypocrisy they may recognise he was a dictator, but, they will rationalise, he was “our” dictator.
The man was a mass murderer.
In the years 1965 and 1966, he and his army supporters seized power and killed up to one million Indonesias.
In the name of anti-communism, they killed Chinese people because they were Chinese. This is genocide.
The West was up to its armpits in the blood. The US supplied the names of Communist Party members to Suharto and his cronies. They knew these people would be murdered.
American embassy officials ticked off their names as the army killed them. What did it matter if a few commies were assassinated? Then Australian prime minister then Harold Holt said that “with 500,000 to a million communist sympathisers knocked off, I think it’s safe to assume a reorientation has taken place”.
And how did Australia described this genocide? A “cleansing process” said the Australian embassy in Jakarta.
Ethnic cleansing is a better description.
But the West wanted Suharto in power for its own interests so the mere mass murder of one million people was of no importance to the US or Australia. And then there is East Timor. During the 23 years of brutal occupation, East Timor’s population fell by a third - about 200,000 dead.
Australia (in particular Gough Whitlam) supported this takeover and Malcolm Fraser’s government gave de jure recognition to the Indonesian regime in East Timor. Australia even trained Indonesian army troops, which were used in East Timor (and West Papua) to suppress the indigenous population.
In West Papua from 1969 when the UN supported Act of Free Choice (what Orwellian words!) saw Indonesia installed as the new colonial ruler, the Indonesian army has killed over 100,000 people.
Yet despite all thes murders - murders well known to the West - Suharto has received massive support from the US, Britain and Australia in particular.
Indeed, as Iraq and Afghanistan show (once again), when the West thinks it is in their interests to do so they will don the gloves of blood themselves, rather than rely on proxies like Suharto.
Then there is the looting of the Indonesian coffers. Suharto, his family and cronies were corrupt. Transparency International claimed that Suharto and his family filched as much as K104 billion from the country’s coffers.
The criminal case against him for this corruption ended because of his ill health. The civil case will be settled out of court. I wonder who presently in power in Indonesia benefits from these decisions.
International courts have been useless in the fight against this mass murderer, a man clearly guilty of war crimes and genocide.
That’s because the West did not want him tried. He was their ally.
And further, any action could implicate those who aided and abetted Suharto, like the Australian leaders Whitlam, Fraser, Hawke, Keating and Howard.
Apparently only those criminals who lose the West’s support (like Saddam Hussein) suffer some sort of retribution.
Certainly those from the West who support dictators are never charged.
And those Western leaders (like Bush, Blair and Howard) who invade other countries and kill hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians are never brought to justice. Individual terrorism is abhorrent. State terrorism, whether by Suharto or his Western backers, is just as abhorrent.
Near the site of the Bali bombing - a bombing in which 88 Australians were murdered - there are mass graves from 1965 and 1966. There are about 88,000dead there. Australia’s outrage over Bali should extend to those Suharto murdered. It does not. Only when the working people of Indonesia are in power, instead of Suharto’s cronies, will Indonesia be free of its murderous past. - onlineopinion
* John Passant is a Canberra writer
http://www.thenatio
nal.com.pg/020508/Talking_point.htm
WAR criminal Suharto is dead. Look for the tears from his Western supporters
.
In their hypocrisy they may recognise he was a dictator, but, they will rationalise, he was “our” dictator.
The man was a mass murderer.
In the years 1965 and 1966, he and his army supporters seized power and killed up to one million Indonesias.
In the name of anti-communism, they killed Chinese people because they were Chinese. This is genocide.
The West was up to its armpits in the blood. The US supplied the names of Communist Party members to Suharto and his cronies. They knew these people would be murdered.
American embassy officials ticked off their names as the army killed them. What did it matter if a few commies were assassinated? Then Australian prime minister then Harold Holt said that “with 500,000 to a million communist sympathisers knocked off, I think it’s safe to assume a reorientation has taken place”.
And how did Australia described this genocide? A “cleansing process” said the Australian embassy in Jakarta.
Ethnic cleansing is a better description.
But the West wanted Suharto in power for its own interests so the mere mass murder of one million people was of no importance to the US or Australia. And then there is East Timor. During the 23 years of brutal occupation, East Timor’s population fell by a third - about 200,000 dead.
Australia (in particular Gough Whitlam) supported this takeover and Malcolm Fraser’s government gave de jure recognition to the Indonesian regime in East Timor. Australia even trained Indonesian army troops, which were used in East Timor (and West Papua) to suppress the indigenous population.
In West Papua from 1969 when the UN supported Act of Free Choice (what Orwellian words!) saw Indonesia installed as the new colonial ruler, the Indonesian army has killed over 100,000 people.
Yet despite all thes murders - murders well known to the West - Suharto has received massive support from the US, Britain and Australia in particular.
Indeed, as Iraq and Afghanistan show (once again), when the West thinks it is in their interests to do so they will don the gloves of blood themselves, rather than rely on proxies like Suharto.
Then there is the looting of the Indonesian coffers. Suharto, his family and cronies were corrupt. Transparency International claimed that Suharto and his family filched as much as K104 billion from the country’s coffers.
The criminal case against him for this corruption ended because of his ill health. The civil case will be settled out of court. I wonder who presently in power in Indonesia benefits from these decisions.
International courts have been useless in the fight against this mass murderer, a man clearly guilty of war crimes and genocide.
That’s because the West did not want him tried. He was their ally.
And further, any action could implicate those who aided and abetted Suharto, like the Australian leaders Whitlam, Fraser, Hawke, Keating and Howard.
Apparently only those criminals who lose the West’s support (like Saddam Hussein) suffer some sort of retribution.
Certainly those from the West who support dictators are never charged.
And those Western leaders (like Bush, Blair and Howard) who invade other countries and kill hundreds of thousands of innocent civilians are never brought to justice. Individual terrorism is abhorrent. State terrorism, whether by Suharto or his Western backers, is just as abhorrent.
Near the site of the Bali bombing - a bombing in which 88 Australians were murdered - there are mass graves from 1965 and 1966. There are about 88,000dead there. Australia’s outrage over Bali should extend to those Suharto murdered. It does not. Only when the working people of Indonesia are in power, instead of Suharto’s cronies, will Indonesia be free of its murderous past. - onlineopinion
* John Passant is a Canberra writer
http://www.thenatio
nal.com.pg/020508/Talking_point.htm
Selasa, 05 Februari 2008
Opinion: PRO-CON: Can Indonesia move beyond Suharto’s legacy? NO
KANSAS CITY STAR (USA)
http://www.kansascity.com/273/story/464900.html
Posted on Mon, Jan. 28, 2008 10:15 PM
The bloody trail that Suharto blazed after he seized power in 1965 shocks the conscience. Perhaps 100,000 people died in West Papua under Indonesian rule following its fraudulent 1969 annexation of the territory, according to Yale’s Genocide Documentation Project. Between 100,000 and 180,000 died in East Timor as a direct result of Indonesia’s 1975 invasion.
Suharto was no mere thug. Transparency International estimates that Suharto stole perhaps $35 billion, a figure equivalent to the sum of international development assistance to the regime during his 32-year reign. Far from being the “father of Indonesian development,” Suharto’s theft squandered Indonesia’s best chance at balanced development, while political repression enervated civil society and retarded the flowering of democratic institutions in ways that continue to distort economic and political life.
Brad Simpson, history professor, University of Maryland-Baltimore County Comments General Suharto spent his life creating an American version of the evil Dutch East Indies Corporation (VoC) - a Corporate State. In 1961 Suharto organised a pathetic attempt at a military invasion of West Papua, while his Freeport friends in Washington tricked U.S. Pres. Kennedy into writing the “New York Agreement” selling the people of West Papua like cattle to Indonesia.
In 1961 the US Dept. of State said “annexation by Indonesia would simply trade white for brown colonialism”.
After Suharto came to power he gave the colonial minerals to Freeport (1967) & related American corporations; and he put the population of Java to work in factories making the cheap American clothes of the 1970s.
By time America moved its cheap factories to Mexico the people of Java had developed a taste for Colonial Profits of West Papua & other colonies, and too many people liked it.
Posted by: AndrewJ
1/29/2008 5:06 AM
http://www.kansascity.com/273/story/464900.html
Posted on Mon, Jan. 28, 2008 10:15 PM
The bloody trail that Suharto blazed after he seized power in 1965 shocks the conscience. Perhaps 100,000 people died in West Papua under Indonesian rule following its fraudulent 1969 annexation of the territory, according to Yale’s Genocide Documentation Project. Between 100,000 and 180,000 died in East Timor as a direct result of Indonesia’s 1975 invasion.
Suharto was no mere thug. Transparency International estimates that Suharto stole perhaps $35 billion, a figure equivalent to the sum of international development assistance to the regime during his 32-year reign. Far from being the “father of Indonesian development,” Suharto’s theft squandered Indonesia’s best chance at balanced development, while political repression enervated civil society and retarded the flowering of democratic institutions in ways that continue to distort economic and political life.
Brad Simpson, history professor, University of Maryland-Baltimore County Comments General Suharto spent his life creating an American version of the evil Dutch East Indies Corporation (VoC) - a Corporate State. In 1961 Suharto organised a pathetic attempt at a military invasion of West Papua, while his Freeport friends in Washington tricked U.S. Pres. Kennedy into writing the “New York Agreement” selling the people of West Papua like cattle to Indonesia.
In 1961 the US Dept. of State said “annexation by Indonesia would simply trade white for brown colonialism”.
After Suharto came to power he gave the colonial minerals to Freeport (1967) & related American corporations; and he put the population of Java to work in factories making the cheap American clothes of the 1970s.
By time America moved its cheap factories to Mexico the people of Java had developed a taste for Colonial Profits of West Papua & other colonies, and too many people liked it.
Posted by: AndrewJ
1/29/2008 5:06 AM
Stop supporting those Javanese rulers now
Dear All,
Let us not forget that President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyno is also a Javanese and those
people from Java always support each other in spite of the trouble they have caused in the past or will cause in the future.
Funny enough they have some good support from the world but not from other regions in Indonesia.
It is high time that the Indonesian archipelago should fall apart and that all the regions can look after themselves.
Papua will then have the best future and Java will fade away because they have nothing.
The world should support Papua.
Stop supporting those Javanese rulers now.
Kind regards
JS
Let us not forget that President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyno is also a Javanese and those
people from Java always support each other in spite of the trouble they have caused in the past or will cause in the future.
Funny enough they have some good support from the world but not from other regions in Indonesia.
It is high time that the Indonesian archipelago should fall apart and that all the regions can look after themselves.
Papua will then have the best future and Java will fade away because they have nothing.
The world should support Papua.
Stop supporting those Javanese rulers now.
Kind regards
JS
Senin, 04 Februari 2008
Suharto — the Australian elite’s favourite mass murderer
Justin Randell
1 February 2008
Genocidal mass murderer and former Indonesian dictator Suharto died in hospital in Jakarta on January 27, aged 86, never having faced justice for the millions of people he killed or the billions of dollars he stole during his three decades in power. While Suharto may be gone, the hypocrisy of his rich-country supporters — especially Australia — lives on.
Through a spokesperson, US President George Bush expressed “his condolences to the people of Indonesia on the loss of their former president”, according to the January 28 Washington Post. In the same article, Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd described Suharto as an “influential leader” who “oversaw a period of significant economic
growth and modernization”.
Read Further here http://www.greenleft.org.au/2008/738/38188
1 February 2008
Genocidal mass murderer and former Indonesian dictator Suharto died in hospital in Jakarta on January 27, aged 86, never having faced justice for the millions of people he killed or the billions of dollars he stole during his three decades in power. While Suharto may be gone, the hypocrisy of his rich-country supporters — especially Australia — lives on.
Through a spokesperson, US President George Bush expressed “his condolences to the people of Indonesia on the loss of their former president”, according to the January 28 Washington Post. In the same article, Australian Prime Minister Kevin Rudd described Suharto as an “influential leader” who “oversaw a period of significant economic
growth and modernization”.
Read Further here http://www.greenleft.org.au/2008/738/38188
Keating is ignorant, says widow of slain journalist
James Madden | February 04, 2008
THE widow of one of the five journalists killed by the Indonesian military at Balibo in 1975 has labelled Paul Keating “ignorant” for attributing the blame for the murders to “irresponsible” Australian news organisations.
The former prime minister claimed on the weekend the five journalists “were encouraged to report from a war zone by their irresponsible proprietors”, and that in the wake of the incident large sections of the Australian media had wilfully misrepresented Indonesia as part of a “get square” agenda prompted by the Balibo killings.
His inflammatory views emerged just days after he provoked widespread outrage by describing journalist Paddy McGuinness in the days after his death as “a liar and a fraud who in journalistic terms … had the morals of an alleycat”.
Yesterday, Shirley Shackleton, widow of journalist Greg Shackleton, one of the five slain newsmen, said Mr Keating’s comments were “ignorant” and “gutless”.
“He has displayed his total ignorance of what journalists do when they go to report on these
situations,” Ms Shackleton said.
News organisations had not been irresponsible in sending their crews to the war zone, she said. “The Balibo Five were simply doing their job, like any good journalists. But someone like Paul Keating wouldn’t have a clue about it - he does his job from the safety of behind a desk.”
John Milkins, son of Balibo victim Gary Cunningham, said Mr Keating’s comments were “very disappointing”.
“I think it shows that he is very much in the camp of old Labor and Gough Whitlam, in terms of being an apologist (for Indonesia), and for trying to discredit news agencies and their role of keeping politicians honest,” he said.
Kevin Rudd also distanced himself yesterday from Mr Keating’s comments, although he admitted he had not read the article in question.
“The events of ‘75 are an absolute disgrace. News organisations are not to blame at all. If Paul said that, I disagree with him, but I haven’t seen what he said,” Mr Rudd said.
Writing for Fairfax newspapers in defence of the reign of former Indonesian president Suharto, Mr Keating said that certain Australian media outlets - most notably the ABC and the Fairfax press - had skewed their coverage of Indonesian affairs as part of a “get square” agenda over Balibo.
“This event (the Balibo murders) was sheeted back to Suharto by journalists of the (Australian) broadsheet press,” he wrote.
“From that moment, in their eyes, Suharto became a cruel and intolerant repressor whose life’s work in saving Indonesia from destruction was to be viewed only through the prism of East Timor.” Mr Keating said media “misrepresentation of the true state of Indonesian social and economic life” had led most Australians to regard Indonesia suspiciously over the past 25 years, despite the fact that “it is evident that Indonesia has been at the fulcrum of our strategic stability”.
THE widow of one of the five journalists killed by the Indonesian military at Balibo in 1975 has labelled Paul Keating “ignorant” for attributing the blame for the murders to “irresponsible” Australian news organisations.
The former prime minister claimed on the weekend the five journalists “were encouraged to report from a war zone by their irresponsible proprietors”, and that in the wake of the incident large sections of the Australian media had wilfully misrepresented Indonesia as part of a “get square” agenda prompted by the Balibo killings.
His inflammatory views emerged just days after he provoked widespread outrage by describing journalist Paddy McGuinness in the days after his death as “a liar and a fraud who in journalistic terms … had the morals of an alleycat”.
Yesterday, Shirley Shackleton, widow of journalist Greg Shackleton, one of the five slain newsmen, said Mr Keating’s comments were “ignorant” and “gutless”.
“He has displayed his total ignorance of what journalists do when they go to report on these
situations,” Ms Shackleton said.
News organisations had not been irresponsible in sending their crews to the war zone, she said. “The Balibo Five were simply doing their job, like any good journalists. But someone like Paul Keating wouldn’t have a clue about it - he does his job from the safety of behind a desk.”
John Milkins, son of Balibo victim Gary Cunningham, said Mr Keating’s comments were “very disappointing”.
“I think it shows that he is very much in the camp of old Labor and Gough Whitlam, in terms of being an apologist (for Indonesia), and for trying to discredit news agencies and their role of keeping politicians honest,” he said.
Kevin Rudd also distanced himself yesterday from Mr Keating’s comments, although he admitted he had not read the article in question.
“The events of ‘75 are an absolute disgrace. News organisations are not to blame at all. If Paul said that, I disagree with him, but I haven’t seen what he said,” Mr Rudd said.
Writing for Fairfax newspapers in defence of the reign of former Indonesian president Suharto, Mr Keating said that certain Australian media outlets - most notably the ABC and the Fairfax press - had skewed their coverage of Indonesian affairs as part of a “get square” agenda over Balibo.
“This event (the Balibo murders) was sheeted back to Suharto by journalists of the (Australian) broadsheet press,” he wrote.
“From that moment, in their eyes, Suharto became a cruel and intolerant repressor whose life’s work in saving Indonesia from destruction was to be viewed only through the prism of East Timor.” Mr Keating said media “misrepresentation of the true state of Indonesian social and economic life” had led most Australians to regard Indonesia suspiciously over the past 25 years, despite the fact that “it is evident that Indonesia has been at the fulcrum of our strategic stability”.
Jumat, 01 Februari 2008
A career soldier who commanded a country: Suharto (8 June 1921- 27 January 2008)
Inside Indonesia
No. 91: Jan-Mar 2008
By John Roosa
Image Taciturn, reserved, reclusive, emotionless, Suharto ruled Indonesia for 32 years as a mystery man, a dictator who presented himself as a faceless, replaceable figure in an apolitical administration. His speeches were dull, forgettable affairs filled with mind-numbing bureaucratese, worn clichés, and pious homilies. There is not a single statement by which he is remembered today. If asked, Indonesians struggle in vain to recall some memorable phrase from him, while even the youth can quote Sukarno, the president he overthrew in 1965. Suharto has left a wordless memory. Rarely interviewed but frequently photographed, he is remembered by a gesture: a smile. It was how he wished to be known: his 1969 authorised biography was titled The Smiling General. It was a Cheshire cat smile, fixed in place, concealing, not expressing his emotional life, prompting puzzlement about the intrigues and violence that were being conjured up in the mind behind it.
Suharto’s parentage is a matter of mystery. In his ‘autobiography’ written by the man most responsible for crafting his public image, G Dwipayana, Suharto claims he was born to a poor peasant family in the village of Kemusuk near Yogyakarta. A magazine owned by his trusted military intelligence czar claimed in 1974 that his father had been an aristocrat. In what was perhaps a pre-planned response, Suharto invited journalists to his office in the presidential palace to explain his lineage and produce witnesses who could vouch that he was the true salt of the earth. Despite his protestations, his genealogy remains suspect. Among Indonesians it is widely rumored that he was the illegitimate child of a Chinese businessman.
A pleasant career
Whatever his origins and childhood experiences, his adulthood was clearly that of a career soldier. He enlisted in the Dutch military in 1940, an event he mentions in his ‘autobiography’ as ‘the key to opening a door to a pleasant walk of life’. The pleasant life of marching and drilling continued under the Japanese occupation when he became a member of that colonial state’s militia. Like all other militiamen, he joined the newly-created Indonesian national army once the Japanese military surrendered in August 1945. There was no question of going back to serve with the Dutch they had already been stripped of all their power and wealth by the Japanese and had suffered the war years in squalid concentration camps.
Because of his military training, Suharto was given a high rank (lieutenant colonel) in the new Indonesian army that organised itself to fight a guerrilla war against the returning Dutch troops. By 1948, he had become the commander of a brigade of troops stationed in and around Yogyakarta, the capital of the Republic. The army’s guerrilla attacks did little to slow the advance of the Dutch troops. Despite having the homefield advantage, Suharto was caught by surprise on 19 December 1948 when Dutch troops invaded Yogyakarta and captured it the same day without facing any resistance. Inexplicably, all four of Suharto’s battalions were outside the city. It was one of theworst setbacks for the Republic: its two highest leaders, Sukarno and Hatta, were captured.
Suharto had a chance to redeem himself when he led an attack on Yogyakarta in March 1949. The attack inflicted only minor damage to the Dutch troops occupying the city and was repulsed within six hours. Suharto and other army commanders, however, claimed that they had temporarily held the city and proven the might of the Republic’s forces to the world. After Suharto took power in 1965 the event was turned into the decisive victory of the war for independence, with a film made about it, Janur Kuning (1979), and a grand monument built in the city (1985).
As a man who served in three different armies within the span of a decade, Suharto wore his political commitments lightly. One of his army colleagues later told a journalist that Suharto said in 1948, ‘My politics are at the end of the bayonet.’ No wonder that Sukarno and his left-leaning defence minister introduced political commissars into the army. Like many soldiers trained under Dutch and Japanese officers, Suharto had no experience in the popular nationalist movement that had struggled against imperialism.
Moving up the ranks
After independence was won in 1949, Suharto rose his way up the ranks: colonel, brigadier general, major general.His one setback came in 1959 when he was removed from the command of the Central Java troops for corruption. But the affair was hushed up and he was quickly rehabilitated. He was given command over the operation to seize West Papua from the Dutch in 1962 an operation that was aborted after a last-minute diplomatic agreement. He was then shifted to Jakarta and given command over the army reserves, Kostrad, in 1963. With an undistinguished record, rudimentary education, and no ability in a foreignlanguage, he was by 1965 a prime candidate for the highest position in the army, serving as the replacement for the army commander, Yani, whenever he traveled abroad.
Suharto had risen to the top of an army that was becoming a kind of parallel government, using its territorial commands, originally designed for defence against foreign invasion, for ruling over civil society. Most of his fellow generals, including the senior-most, A.H. Nasution, were strongly anti-communist and determined to check the rising power of the communist party (PKI) in the early 1960s. To rival the party, they sponsored trade unions, artists’ associations, and newspapers. They met with religious organisations and political parties and assured them that the army would use force if need be against the PKI.
Suharto did not clearly associate himself with either side. A former PKI member of the parliament told me that DN Aidit, the head of the party, believed in early 1965 that Suharto was a ‘democratic’ officer because he had supported the ending of the army’s martial law powers in 1963. But Suharto was also collaborating with the anti-communists in his covert effort to put the brakes on Sukarno’s anti-Malaysia campaign, begun in 1963.
His lucky day
Suharto’s fence-sitting ultimately proved to be what him put into power. When the pro-PKI and pro-Sukarno army officers decided to strike against their rival officers, they assumed Suharto would support them. A group of junior officers organised the kidnapping raids of seven army generals on 1 October 1965. Two of the conspirators were good friends of Suharto’s and one of them told Suharto beforehand about the plot. The abductors, calling themselves the September 30th Movement, wound up killing six generals, among them the army commander Yani. It was Suharto’s lucky day. In Yani’s absence he became army commander. The September 30th Movement had not been masterminded by Suharto but it played into his hands perfectly.
As army commander, Suharto immediately began defying presidential orders and implementing the long-standing agenda of the anti-communist officers, which was to reduce Sukarno to a figurehead president, destroy the PKI, and establish a military dictatorship. Suharto’s anti-communism did not stem from any deep-seated ideological commitment. If the September 30th Movement had succeeded and the communists had gained more power, one can easily imagine the ever-opportunistic Suharto accommodating himself to the new regime. He was such a nondescript, unremarkable officer that many observers believedin the first weeks of October that he was merely following General Nasution’s lead.
The creeping coup d’état
Sidelining President Sukarno turned out not to be too difficult. The grand old man of Indonesian nationalism, the ‘extension of the people’s tongue’, kept voicing protests but did nothing concrete to stop Suharto’s guns. He confirmed Suharto as armycommander, raised his rank, and gave him emergency powers. The coup de grâce of the gradual coup d’état came in March 1966 when Suharto used a vaguely worded order from Sukarno about ‘guaranteeing security’ as a justification for arresting 15 ministers and dismissing Sukarno’s cabinet as if the president ordered his own overthrow.
The destruction of the PKI the precondition for imposing a new military-dominated polity turned out not to be too difficult either. The PKI leadership, in disarray after 1 October, urged its followers not to resist so that President Sukarno could arrange a political resolution to the crisis. But the presidenthad no power over Suharto’s army. Working with civilian
militias, the army organised one of the worst bloodbaths of the twentieth century, rounding up over one million people and then secretly executing many of them. Detainees disappeared at night. Mass graves holding uncounted corpses lie unmarked all over Sumatra, Java and Bali.
No document exists proving that Suharto ordered any killing. On the rare occasion when he mentioned the killings in later yearshe blamed them on civilians running amok. Serious investigations into the who, where, when and how questions about the killings reveal that the army was primarily responsible and that Suharto must have at least approved of them if he did not give an explicit oral or written order for them.
Carrots and sticks
In taking power Suharto and his fellow army officers realised that the long-term stability of their rule would depend on their ability to improve living standards.They looked to foreign aid, investment and markets to provide the main stimuli for economic growth. Western capital which had been boycotting Indonesiabecause of Sukarno’s policies found the welcome mat laid out. Suharto personally intervened in late 1965 to stop Sukarno’s minister of industries from nationalising the oil sector. With the army’s terror campaign against unionists at oil wells, rubber plantations, and factories, Western capital was also given a more docile labor force.
One reason for Suharto’s remarkable ability to stay in power for so long lies in his expansion of public sector employment. By the end of his reign, 4.6 million people were on the state payroll, about triple the number in the early 1970s. Millions more were dependents on these salary earners. The security of the monthly paycheck was attractive even if the income was low. Also, some government jobs came with chances to earn more money through corruption. These civil servants and their relatives were the regime’s key base of support, voting and campaigning for the government party Golkar in every election. Those not voting for Golkar were denounced for biting the hand that fed them and stood little chance of earning a promotion.
Suharto’s habitual response to dissent was, to use today’s lexicon, shock and awe. In Papua, he maintained an army of occupation that treated the indigenous population as sub-humans whose loyalty had to be won through violence. For years, the only side of Indonesia that Papuans saw was the army. He was responsible for the tens of thousands of Papuans killed in the counterinsurgency campaign from the late 1960s to 1998. He was also responsible for the war of aggression against East Timor in 1975 and the over 100,000 people there who died because of the warfare in that half-island. He was also responsible for the counterinsurgency campaign (1990-98) designed to terrorise civilians into not supporting the guerrillas, instead of offering the civilians a more positive alternative.
Suharto stubbornly pursued the same strategy even when it was proving to be counterproductive, when the terror inflicted in Papua, East Timor and Aceh was generating more widespread resistance. Only after Suharto’s downfall have Indonesian politicians had the chance to pursue wiser, more humane diplomatic and political resolutions to these wars: President Habibie allowed a UN-administered referendum in East Timor in 1999 and President Yudhoyono concluded a peace treaty with the Acehnese nationalists in 2005. The grand Ponzi scheme collapses
In evaluating Suharto’s rule, the so-called ‘balanced’ approach of many Western scholars has been to criticise Suharto for human rights violations but to praise his economic performance. Those impressed by the annual growth rates of six percent are like gullible investors in a Ponzi scheme convinced that the high returns are irrefutable evidence of success. The economic growth of the Suharto years was largely accomplished by wildly selling off the country’s natural resources. It was a predatory, unsustainable type of growth. The leading sectors were oil and timber. Both were terribly mismanaged because of the corruption. Today Indonesia is an net oil importer and its forests are rapidly disappearing, cut down by loggers or burned up by palm oil plantation owners. The revenues from all those exports were not reinvested in other sectors; they disappeared into the personal bank accounts of the Suharto family, their cronies (such as Bob Hasan), and state officials.
After three decades of economic growth à la Suharto, the Indonesian government was left heavily in debt and the economy left without a domestically-financed industrial base. It is fitting that Suharto, whose minions lauded him as ‘the father of development,’ passed away in the hospital owned by the state oil company (Pertamina) that his family and cronies (such as Ibnu Sutowo) milked with abandon.
Suharto’s regime lived by foreign capital and it died by foreign capital. The liberalisation of the financial sector that the US pushed Indonesia to adopt in the early 1990s resulted in much greater vulnerability to sudden international shifts in the capital flows. Money flooded in to Suharto’s caste of kleptocrats and their phony banks and then suddenly flooded out. The grand Ponzi scheme collapsed with the Asian economic crisis of 1997. The only legitimacy that Suharto had enjoyed was his apparent ability to engineer economic growth. Once that ended the usually compliant middle-class turned on him, unwilling to tolerate his corruption, his greedy children and his obscenely wealthy cronies. The spontaneously formed movement for ‘reformasi’ declared its main enemy to be KKN: Korupsi, Kolusi, and Nepotisme. The Suharto family’s own ‘I Love the Rupiah’ campaign, coming from those who held the most dollars, did not quite have the same cachet.
The family’s extensive stable of paranormals could not save them, neither could their obsequious army generals, not even Lieutenant General Prabowo, Suharto’s son-in-law who commanded elite troops in Jakarta and was always flush with money from his brother who owned the country’s one steel mill. Suharto resigned on 21 May as Jakarta was still smouldering from the mysterious riots in which stores owned by Indonesian-Chinese were torched.
Mr Minus
Perhaps the best that can be said of Suharto’s 32 year reign is that it could have been worse. He did not opt for the strategy of the Burmese generals and close off the country. Dependent upon foreign capital, he was vulnerable to international pressure. The release of tens of thousands of political prisoners in the late 1970s was largely due to pressure from outside the country. He did not opt to legitimate himself through religion and impose Islamic law. The Indonesian state remained largely secular. He did not promote a cult of personality around himself. When faced with mass protests in 1998, he did not opt to stay in power at all costs.
The late great Indonesian writer, Pramoedya Ananta Toer, a political prisoner of Suharto’s for 14 years, once wrote that he could not bring himself to write about the Suharto regime. While he wrote many historical novels about pre-colonial Java and the Indonesian nationalist movement, he thought nothing interesting could be said about the man responsible for imprisoning him and banning his books. For him, Suharto was a negativity, what he called a ‘minus x’, a reversion back to Java’s colonial-era aristocrats who bullied their subjects for the benefit of European business interests, yet prided themselves of theirgreat cosmic powers, and remained narrow-minded and indifferent to the science and arts of the Europe that had conquered them. No doubt some will remember Suharto for something positive but as Indonesia struggles to overcome his terrible legacies one wonders whether anyone will be able to consider his title ‘father of development’ as anything other than a cruel joke.
John Roosa (jroosa@interchange.ubc.ca) is a member of Inside Indonesia’s editorial team, and the author of Pretext for Mass Murder: The September 30th Movement and Suharto’s Coup d’État in Indonesia (2006).
No. 91: Jan-Mar 2008
By John Roosa
Image Taciturn, reserved, reclusive, emotionless, Suharto ruled Indonesia for 32 years as a mystery man, a dictator who presented himself as a faceless, replaceable figure in an apolitical administration. His speeches were dull, forgettable affairs filled with mind-numbing bureaucratese, worn clichés, and pious homilies. There is not a single statement by which he is remembered today. If asked, Indonesians struggle in vain to recall some memorable phrase from him, while even the youth can quote Sukarno, the president he overthrew in 1965. Suharto has left a wordless memory. Rarely interviewed but frequently photographed, he is remembered by a gesture: a smile. It was how he wished to be known: his 1969 authorised biography was titled The Smiling General. It was a Cheshire cat smile, fixed in place, concealing, not expressing his emotional life, prompting puzzlement about the intrigues and violence that were being conjured up in the mind behind it.
Suharto’s parentage is a matter of mystery. In his ‘autobiography’ written by the man most responsible for crafting his public image, G Dwipayana, Suharto claims he was born to a poor peasant family in the village of Kemusuk near Yogyakarta. A magazine owned by his trusted military intelligence czar claimed in 1974 that his father had been an aristocrat. In what was perhaps a pre-planned response, Suharto invited journalists to his office in the presidential palace to explain his lineage and produce witnesses who could vouch that he was the true salt of the earth. Despite his protestations, his genealogy remains suspect. Among Indonesians it is widely rumored that he was the illegitimate child of a Chinese businessman.
A pleasant career
Whatever his origins and childhood experiences, his adulthood was clearly that of a career soldier. He enlisted in the Dutch military in 1940, an event he mentions in his ‘autobiography’ as ‘the key to opening a door to a pleasant walk of life’. The pleasant life of marching and drilling continued under the Japanese occupation when he became a member of that colonial state’s militia. Like all other militiamen, he joined the newly-created Indonesian national army once the Japanese military surrendered in August 1945. There was no question of going back to serve with the Dutch they had already been stripped of all their power and wealth by the Japanese and had suffered the war years in squalid concentration camps.
Because of his military training, Suharto was given a high rank (lieutenant colonel) in the new Indonesian army that organised itself to fight a guerrilla war against the returning Dutch troops. By 1948, he had become the commander of a brigade of troops stationed in and around Yogyakarta, the capital of the Republic. The army’s guerrilla attacks did little to slow the advance of the Dutch troops. Despite having the homefield advantage, Suharto was caught by surprise on 19 December 1948 when Dutch troops invaded Yogyakarta and captured it the same day without facing any resistance. Inexplicably, all four of Suharto’s battalions were outside the city. It was one of theworst setbacks for the Republic: its two highest leaders, Sukarno and Hatta, were captured.
Suharto had a chance to redeem himself when he led an attack on Yogyakarta in March 1949. The attack inflicted only minor damage to the Dutch troops occupying the city and was repulsed within six hours. Suharto and other army commanders, however, claimed that they had temporarily held the city and proven the might of the Republic’s forces to the world. After Suharto took power in 1965 the event was turned into the decisive victory of the war for independence, with a film made about it, Janur Kuning (1979), and a grand monument built in the city (1985).
As a man who served in three different armies within the span of a decade, Suharto wore his political commitments lightly. One of his army colleagues later told a journalist that Suharto said in 1948, ‘My politics are at the end of the bayonet.’ No wonder that Sukarno and his left-leaning defence minister introduced political commissars into the army. Like many soldiers trained under Dutch and Japanese officers, Suharto had no experience in the popular nationalist movement that had struggled against imperialism.
Moving up the ranks
After independence was won in 1949, Suharto rose his way up the ranks: colonel, brigadier general, major general.His one setback came in 1959 when he was removed from the command of the Central Java troops for corruption. But the affair was hushed up and he was quickly rehabilitated. He was given command over the operation to seize West Papua from the Dutch in 1962 an operation that was aborted after a last-minute diplomatic agreement. He was then shifted to Jakarta and given command over the army reserves, Kostrad, in 1963. With an undistinguished record, rudimentary education, and no ability in a foreignlanguage, he was by 1965 a prime candidate for the highest position in the army, serving as the replacement for the army commander, Yani, whenever he traveled abroad.
Suharto had risen to the top of an army that was becoming a kind of parallel government, using its territorial commands, originally designed for defence against foreign invasion, for ruling over civil society. Most of his fellow generals, including the senior-most, A.H. Nasution, were strongly anti-communist and determined to check the rising power of the communist party (PKI) in the early 1960s. To rival the party, they sponsored trade unions, artists’ associations, and newspapers. They met with religious organisations and political parties and assured them that the army would use force if need be against the PKI.
Suharto did not clearly associate himself with either side. A former PKI member of the parliament told me that DN Aidit, the head of the party, believed in early 1965 that Suharto was a ‘democratic’ officer because he had supported the ending of the army’s martial law powers in 1963. But Suharto was also collaborating with the anti-communists in his covert effort to put the brakes on Sukarno’s anti-Malaysia campaign, begun in 1963.
His lucky day
Suharto’s fence-sitting ultimately proved to be what him put into power. When the pro-PKI and pro-Sukarno army officers decided to strike against their rival officers, they assumed Suharto would support them. A group of junior officers organised the kidnapping raids of seven army generals on 1 October 1965. Two of the conspirators were good friends of Suharto’s and one of them told Suharto beforehand about the plot. The abductors, calling themselves the September 30th Movement, wound up killing six generals, among them the army commander Yani. It was Suharto’s lucky day. In Yani’s absence he became army commander. The September 30th Movement had not been masterminded by Suharto but it played into his hands perfectly.
As army commander, Suharto immediately began defying presidential orders and implementing the long-standing agenda of the anti-communist officers, which was to reduce Sukarno to a figurehead president, destroy the PKI, and establish a military dictatorship. Suharto’s anti-communism did not stem from any deep-seated ideological commitment. If the September 30th Movement had succeeded and the communists had gained more power, one can easily imagine the ever-opportunistic Suharto accommodating himself to the new regime. He was such a nondescript, unremarkable officer that many observers believedin the first weeks of October that he was merely following General Nasution’s lead.
The creeping coup d’état
Sidelining President Sukarno turned out not to be too difficult. The grand old man of Indonesian nationalism, the ‘extension of the people’s tongue’, kept voicing protests but did nothing concrete to stop Suharto’s guns. He confirmed Suharto as armycommander, raised his rank, and gave him emergency powers. The coup de grâce of the gradual coup d’état came in March 1966 when Suharto used a vaguely worded order from Sukarno about ‘guaranteeing security’ as a justification for arresting 15 ministers and dismissing Sukarno’s cabinet as if the president ordered his own overthrow.
The destruction of the PKI the precondition for imposing a new military-dominated polity turned out not to be too difficult either. The PKI leadership, in disarray after 1 October, urged its followers not to resist so that President Sukarno could arrange a political resolution to the crisis. But the presidenthad no power over Suharto’s army. Working with civilian
militias, the army organised one of the worst bloodbaths of the twentieth century, rounding up over one million people and then secretly executing many of them. Detainees disappeared at night. Mass graves holding uncounted corpses lie unmarked all over Sumatra, Java and Bali.
No document exists proving that Suharto ordered any killing. On the rare occasion when he mentioned the killings in later yearshe blamed them on civilians running amok. Serious investigations into the who, where, when and how questions about the killings reveal that the army was primarily responsible and that Suharto must have at least approved of them if he did not give an explicit oral or written order for them.
Carrots and sticks
In taking power Suharto and his fellow army officers realised that the long-term stability of their rule would depend on their ability to improve living standards.They looked to foreign aid, investment and markets to provide the main stimuli for economic growth. Western capital which had been boycotting Indonesiabecause of Sukarno’s policies found the welcome mat laid out. Suharto personally intervened in late 1965 to stop Sukarno’s minister of industries from nationalising the oil sector. With the army’s terror campaign against unionists at oil wells, rubber plantations, and factories, Western capital was also given a more docile labor force.
One reason for Suharto’s remarkable ability to stay in power for so long lies in his expansion of public sector employment. By the end of his reign, 4.6 million people were on the state payroll, about triple the number in the early 1970s. Millions more were dependents on these salary earners. The security of the monthly paycheck was attractive even if the income was low. Also, some government jobs came with chances to earn more money through corruption. These civil servants and their relatives were the regime’s key base of support, voting and campaigning for the government party Golkar in every election. Those not voting for Golkar were denounced for biting the hand that fed them and stood little chance of earning a promotion.
Suharto’s habitual response to dissent was, to use today’s lexicon, shock and awe. In Papua, he maintained an army of occupation that treated the indigenous population as sub-humans whose loyalty had to be won through violence. For years, the only side of Indonesia that Papuans saw was the army. He was responsible for the tens of thousands of Papuans killed in the counterinsurgency campaign from the late 1960s to 1998. He was also responsible for the war of aggression against East Timor in 1975 and the over 100,000 people there who died because of the warfare in that half-island. He was also responsible for the counterinsurgency campaign (1990-98) designed to terrorise civilians into not supporting the guerrillas, instead of offering the civilians a more positive alternative.
Suharto stubbornly pursued the same strategy even when it was proving to be counterproductive, when the terror inflicted in Papua, East Timor and Aceh was generating more widespread resistance. Only after Suharto’s downfall have Indonesian politicians had the chance to pursue wiser, more humane diplomatic and political resolutions to these wars: President Habibie allowed a UN-administered referendum in East Timor in 1999 and President Yudhoyono concluded a peace treaty with the Acehnese nationalists in 2005. The grand Ponzi scheme collapses
In evaluating Suharto’s rule, the so-called ‘balanced’ approach of many Western scholars has been to criticise Suharto for human rights violations but to praise his economic performance. Those impressed by the annual growth rates of six percent are like gullible investors in a Ponzi scheme convinced that the high returns are irrefutable evidence of success. The economic growth of the Suharto years was largely accomplished by wildly selling off the country’s natural resources. It was a predatory, unsustainable type of growth. The leading sectors were oil and timber. Both were terribly mismanaged because of the corruption. Today Indonesia is an net oil importer and its forests are rapidly disappearing, cut down by loggers or burned up by palm oil plantation owners. The revenues from all those exports were not reinvested in other sectors; they disappeared into the personal bank accounts of the Suharto family, their cronies (such as Bob Hasan), and state officials.
After three decades of economic growth à la Suharto, the Indonesian government was left heavily in debt and the economy left without a domestically-financed industrial base. It is fitting that Suharto, whose minions lauded him as ‘the father of development,’ passed away in the hospital owned by the state oil company (Pertamina) that his family and cronies (such as Ibnu Sutowo) milked with abandon.
Suharto’s regime lived by foreign capital and it died by foreign capital. The liberalisation of the financial sector that the US pushed Indonesia to adopt in the early 1990s resulted in much greater vulnerability to sudden international shifts in the capital flows. Money flooded in to Suharto’s caste of kleptocrats and their phony banks and then suddenly flooded out. The grand Ponzi scheme collapsed with the Asian economic crisis of 1997. The only legitimacy that Suharto had enjoyed was his apparent ability to engineer economic growth. Once that ended the usually compliant middle-class turned on him, unwilling to tolerate his corruption, his greedy children and his obscenely wealthy cronies. The spontaneously formed movement for ‘reformasi’ declared its main enemy to be KKN: Korupsi, Kolusi, and Nepotisme. The Suharto family’s own ‘I Love the Rupiah’ campaign, coming from those who held the most dollars, did not quite have the same cachet.
The family’s extensive stable of paranormals could not save them, neither could their obsequious army generals, not even Lieutenant General Prabowo, Suharto’s son-in-law who commanded elite troops in Jakarta and was always flush with money from his brother who owned the country’s one steel mill. Suharto resigned on 21 May as Jakarta was still smouldering from the mysterious riots in which stores owned by Indonesian-Chinese were torched.
Mr Minus
Perhaps the best that can be said of Suharto’s 32 year reign is that it could have been worse. He did not opt for the strategy of the Burmese generals and close off the country. Dependent upon foreign capital, he was vulnerable to international pressure. The release of tens of thousands of political prisoners in the late 1970s was largely due to pressure from outside the country. He did not opt to legitimate himself through religion and impose Islamic law. The Indonesian state remained largely secular. He did not promote a cult of personality around himself. When faced with mass protests in 1998, he did not opt to stay in power at all costs.
The late great Indonesian writer, Pramoedya Ananta Toer, a political prisoner of Suharto’s for 14 years, once wrote that he could not bring himself to write about the Suharto regime. While he wrote many historical novels about pre-colonial Java and the Indonesian nationalist movement, he thought nothing interesting could be said about the man responsible for imprisoning him and banning his books. For him, Suharto was a negativity, what he called a ‘minus x’, a reversion back to Java’s colonial-era aristocrats who bullied their subjects for the benefit of European business interests, yet prided themselves of theirgreat cosmic powers, and remained narrow-minded and indifferent to the science and arts of the Europe that had conquered them. No doubt some will remember Suharto for something positive but as Indonesia struggles to overcome his terrible legacies one wonders whether anyone will be able to consider his title ‘father of development’ as anything other than a cruel joke.
John Roosa (jroosa@interchange.ubc.ca) is a member of Inside Indonesia’s editorial team, and the author of Pretext for Mass Murder: The September 30th Movement and Suharto’s Coup d’État in Indonesia (2006).
Free to mourn or cheer, Indonesians have moved on since Suharto stepped down in 1998
http://www.economist.com/opinion/displaystory.cfm?story_id=10608377
The Economist
The death of Suharto
Epitaph on a crook and a tyrant
Jan 31st 2008
From The Economist print edition
Reuters
HE WAS a despot, a cold-war monster cosseted by the West because his most plausible opponents were communists. Behind his pudgily smooth, benign-looking face lay ruthless cruelty. The slaughter as he consolidated his power in the mid-1960s cost hundreds of thousands of lives. Tens of thousands were locked up for years without charge. After the invasion of East Timor in 1975, the Indonesian occupation led to the deaths of perhaps one-third of its people. Meanwhile, he was robbing his own country blind. Perhaps no leader’s family anywhere has ever amassed so much ill-gotten loot. When he was forced to quit at last, the economy was in a tailspin and the stability he had boasted of creating proved an illusion. So it seems all wrong that after Suharto’s death this week, Indonesia declared seven days of national mourning. Television stations (some controlled by his kin) showed laudatory documentaries. The streets were lined with crowds for miles on the way to the hillside family mausoleum he had built, in emulation of the Javanese kings whose successor he seemed to think himself. Other statesmen from the region trooped to his funeral to pay their respects: Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew, Malaysia’s Mahathir Mohamad and even Timor-Leste’s prime minister, Xanana Gusmão.
In Mr Gusmão, from a tiny young nation needing good relations with its neighbour and former coloniser, such magnanimity might be wise. Mr Lee and Dr Mahathir also had reason to honour Mr Suharto, who ended his predecessor’s “confrontation” with Malaysia, nurtured regional unity and, like them, shrugged at the West’s preaching about human rights. Yet for Indonesians themselves to push the boat out so far for the old kleptocrat suggests a failure to come to terms with the scale of his crimes. Yes, their country made huge economic strides under his 32-year rule, thanks to his delegation of much policymaking to competent technocrats, and superficial political calm prevailed. But at a very high cost.
The government of President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono—himself a Suharto-era former general—has been a success in many ways. But it has not fostered a culture of accountability. In 2006, when Mr Suharto seemed to be on his deathbed, it dropped criminal proceedings against him. It then instigated a civil prosecution. But neither Mr Suharto nor any of his family has faced trial for corruption (though his son, Tommy, was jailed on a murder charge). Nor has there been a determined attempt to bring to justice those army officers who oversaw atrocities in East Timor and Irian Jaya (now known as Papua) after Mr Suharto fell, let alone those who committed them while he was still in power.
A different country
Yet, if the bad that Suharto did seems to have been buried with him, this week has also shown how far Indonesia has moved on. It is not in thrall to the former dictator’s memory. A dozen years ago the death of his greedy wife, Tien (known, inevitably as “Madame Tien per cent”), provoked an outpouring of real or synthetic national grief. This week even Suharto-family television channels were soon back to normal programming. Newspapers vigorously debated his legacy. Some may hanker for the old certainties of his rule, but not at the expense of their new freedoms. To make sure those freedoms endure, Indonesia needs to face up to the past, and to make a proper accounting for the murky atrocities and untold thievery of Mr Suharto’s reign. The rosy nostalgic glow bathing his obsequies is no substitute for true reconciliation. As elsewhere, that needs to be built on historical truth, in which no one in power seemed much interested this week.
The Economist
The death of Suharto
Epitaph on a crook and a tyrant
Jan 31st 2008
From The Economist print edition
Reuters
HE WAS a despot, a cold-war monster cosseted by the West because his most plausible opponents were communists. Behind his pudgily smooth, benign-looking face lay ruthless cruelty. The slaughter as he consolidated his power in the mid-1960s cost hundreds of thousands of lives. Tens of thousands were locked up for years without charge. After the invasion of East Timor in 1975, the Indonesian occupation led to the deaths of perhaps one-third of its people. Meanwhile, he was robbing his own country blind. Perhaps no leader’s family anywhere has ever amassed so much ill-gotten loot. When he was forced to quit at last, the economy was in a tailspin and the stability he had boasted of creating proved an illusion. So it seems all wrong that after Suharto’s death this week, Indonesia declared seven days of national mourning. Television stations (some controlled by his kin) showed laudatory documentaries. The streets were lined with crowds for miles on the way to the hillside family mausoleum he had built, in emulation of the Javanese kings whose successor he seemed to think himself. Other statesmen from the region trooped to his funeral to pay their respects: Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew, Malaysia’s Mahathir Mohamad and even Timor-Leste’s prime minister, Xanana Gusmão.
In Mr Gusmão, from a tiny young nation needing good relations with its neighbour and former coloniser, such magnanimity might be wise. Mr Lee and Dr Mahathir also had reason to honour Mr Suharto, who ended his predecessor’s “confrontation” with Malaysia, nurtured regional unity and, like them, shrugged at the West’s preaching about human rights. Yet for Indonesians themselves to push the boat out so far for the old kleptocrat suggests a failure to come to terms with the scale of his crimes. Yes, their country made huge economic strides under his 32-year rule, thanks to his delegation of much policymaking to competent technocrats, and superficial political calm prevailed. But at a very high cost.
The government of President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono—himself a Suharto-era former general—has been a success in many ways. But it has not fostered a culture of accountability. In 2006, when Mr Suharto seemed to be on his deathbed, it dropped criminal proceedings against him. It then instigated a civil prosecution. But neither Mr Suharto nor any of his family has faced trial for corruption (though his son, Tommy, was jailed on a murder charge). Nor has there been a determined attempt to bring to justice those army officers who oversaw atrocities in East Timor and Irian Jaya (now known as Papua) after Mr Suharto fell, let alone those who committed them while he was still in power.
A different country
Yet, if the bad that Suharto did seems to have been buried with him, this week has also shown how far Indonesia has moved on. It is not in thrall to the former dictator’s memory. A dozen years ago the death of his greedy wife, Tien (known, inevitably as “Madame Tien per cent”), provoked an outpouring of real or synthetic national grief. This week even Suharto-family television channels were soon back to normal programming. Newspapers vigorously debated his legacy. Some may hanker for the old certainties of his rule, but not at the expense of their new freedoms. To make sure those freedoms endure, Indonesia needs to face up to the past, and to make a proper accounting for the murky atrocities and untold thievery of Mr Suharto’s reign. The rosy nostalgic glow bathing his obsequies is no substitute for true reconciliation. As elsewhere, that needs to be built on historical truth, in which no one in power seemed much interested this week.
Human Rights Watch: Indonesia: Suharto’s Death a Chance for Victims to Find Justice Government Should Investigate Crimes of Former Dictator’s Regime
(New York, January 27, 2008) – The death of former president Suharto at age 86 provides an opportunity to commemorate the many victims of his oppressive regime, Human Rights Watch said today. Human Rights Watch said the Indonesian government should make a serious commitment to hold accountable the perpetrators of human rights abuses during his rule. Suharto presided over more than three decades of military dictatorship andsystematic human rights abuses, including media censorship, tight restrictions on freedom of association and assembly, a highly politicized and controlled judiciary, widespread torture, attacks on the rights of minorities, massacres of alleged communists, and numerous war crimes committed in East Timor, Aceh, Papua and the Moluccan islands. He also presided over a famously corrupt regime in which he, his family, and his cronies amassed billions of dollars in illegal wealth – funds which could
have addressed Indonesia’s widespread poverty and social problems.
“Suharto has gotten away with murder – another dictator who’s lived out his life in luxury and escaped justice,” said Brad Adams, Asia director at Human Rights Watch. “But many of Suharto’s cronies are still around, so the Indonesian government should take the chance to put his many partners in human rights abuse on trial.”
To date, there has been virtually no legal accounting for the widespread abuses committed during Suharto’s rule, or for the violence instigated by pro-Suharto forces in a failed attempt to stave off his 1998 fall from power. Suharto himself never faced trial for human rights abuses. The former dictator spent the last years of his life living in luxury. On account of Suharto’s alleged poor health, in May 2006, prosecutors dropped one case that alleged that he had stolen $600 million from the state’s coffers. “Indonesia’s attorney general never issued an indictment against him for human rights violations,” said Adams. “While there has been a great deal of political reform, repeated failures to hold perpetrators of serious human rights crimes to account have meant that Indonesia still has not come to terms with the worst of Suharto’s legacy.”
Human Rights Watch said that the lack of justice for Suharto’s crimes is directly linked to the continuing impunity enjoyed by Indonesia’s security forces, despite many political reforms and promises to address past abuses. Since 1998, the legal and institutional bases of Suharto’s political repression have been largely removed, and there has been great progress on freedom of association and expression.
One important consequence of this failure is that, although the military no longer formally plays a political role (the military’s “Dwifungsi” or “dual function” ideology relied on by Suharto has been abandoned and is now discredited), the military continues to be territorially and economically entrenched. The military still is not fully answerable to the Ministry of Defense, and much-heralded reforms to end the armed forces’ involvement in business are stalled. The predictable result is conflicts of interest andabuses, as with the May 2007 killing of civilians in Pasuruan, East Java, by marines who had ousted farmers and planted commercial crops on the disputed land. Another consequence is that where there is conflict in Indonesia today, as in Papua, security forces – both military and special police units– still commit abuses and are almost never held accountable.
“Justice is a key missing piece in Indonesia’s reform story,” said Adams. “The failure to touch Suharto shows how far Indonesia still has to go if itis to establish strong, independent prosecutors and courts, and put an end to serious security-force abuses.”
*Background*
Suharto’s sordid legacy dates to the army-backed massacres in 1965 that accompanied his rise to power. A failed coup against President Sukarno in September 1965 claimed the lives of six army generals, but it was the army, led by then-Major General Suharto, that emerged as the paramount power in the aftermath.
Although the events surrounding the coup attempt remain unclear and some participants themselves described it as an internal military affair, thegovernment maintained that the Indonesian Communist Party was exclusively responsible for the coup attempt. From 1965 to 1967, Suharto presided over a bloodbath that destroyed the Indonesian Communist Party. Estimates of the number of people killed range from a quarter of a million to more than 1 million. Hundreds of thousands of citizens suspected of having leftistaffiliations, including large numbers of teachers and student activists, were imprisoned. Most of them were never tried, let alone convicted of any offense. Suharto was officially proclaimed president in March 1967.
Under Suharto’s “New Order” regime, Indonesian society became progressively militarized, with the Indonesian armed forces playing an increasingly prominent role as a social and political force. Throughout his rule, Suharto viciously suppressed any sign of anti-government unrest or separatist ambition. Military operations, most notably in East Timor, Aceh, and Papua, were characterized by undisciplined and unaccountable troops committing widespread abuses against civilians, including extrajudicial executions, torture, forced disappearances, beatings, arbitrary arrests and detentions, and drastic limits on freedom of movement.
In 1975, just nine days after neighboring East Timor declared its independence from Portugal, Suharto ordered Indonesian forces to invade andannex the former colony. Indonesia’s occupation of East Timor was brutal, marked by atrocities such as the Santa Cruz massacre in 1991, when at least 270 pro-independence protesters were shot or beaten to death by the military.
“One of the enduring legacies of Suharto’s regime has been the culture that continues to block justice for victims of military abuses even today,” said Adams. “Maybe with Suharto’s passing, this legacy, too, can be brought to an end.”
A rare attempt at accountability for Suharto-era crimes occurred in trials held in 2004 against soldiers accused of participating in the “Tanjung Priok Massacre” in Jakarta two decades earlier. Yet the trials resulted in little justice for the families of the 33 or more civilians shot by government security forces during an anti-government demonstration. Two defendants were acquitted amid reports of political interference and witness intimidation. The remaining 12 defendants had their convictions overturned by an appeals court in June 2005.
have addressed Indonesia’s widespread poverty and social problems.
“Suharto has gotten away with murder – another dictator who’s lived out his life in luxury and escaped justice,” said Brad Adams, Asia director at Human Rights Watch. “But many of Suharto’s cronies are still around, so the Indonesian government should take the chance to put his many partners in human rights abuse on trial.”
To date, there has been virtually no legal accounting for the widespread abuses committed during Suharto’s rule, or for the violence instigated by pro-Suharto forces in a failed attempt to stave off his 1998 fall from power. Suharto himself never faced trial for human rights abuses. The former dictator spent the last years of his life living in luxury. On account of Suharto’s alleged poor health, in May 2006, prosecutors dropped one case that alleged that he had stolen $600 million from the state’s coffers. “Indonesia’s attorney general never issued an indictment against him for human rights violations,” said Adams. “While there has been a great deal of political reform, repeated failures to hold perpetrators of serious human rights crimes to account have meant that Indonesia still has not come to terms with the worst of Suharto’s legacy.”
Human Rights Watch said that the lack of justice for Suharto’s crimes is directly linked to the continuing impunity enjoyed by Indonesia’s security forces, despite many political reforms and promises to address past abuses. Since 1998, the legal and institutional bases of Suharto’s political repression have been largely removed, and there has been great progress on freedom of association and expression.
One important consequence of this failure is that, although the military no longer formally plays a political role (the military’s “Dwifungsi” or “dual function” ideology relied on by Suharto has been abandoned and is now discredited), the military continues to be territorially and economically entrenched. The military still is not fully answerable to the Ministry of Defense, and much-heralded reforms to end the armed forces’ involvement in business are stalled. The predictable result is conflicts of interest andabuses, as with the May 2007 killing of civilians in Pasuruan, East Java, by marines who had ousted farmers and planted commercial crops on the disputed land. Another consequence is that where there is conflict in Indonesia today, as in Papua, security forces – both military and special police units– still commit abuses and are almost never held accountable.
“Justice is a key missing piece in Indonesia’s reform story,” said Adams. “The failure to touch Suharto shows how far Indonesia still has to go if itis to establish strong, independent prosecutors and courts, and put an end to serious security-force abuses.”
*Background*
Suharto’s sordid legacy dates to the army-backed massacres in 1965 that accompanied his rise to power. A failed coup against President Sukarno in September 1965 claimed the lives of six army generals, but it was the army, led by then-Major General Suharto, that emerged as the paramount power in the aftermath.
Although the events surrounding the coup attempt remain unclear and some participants themselves described it as an internal military affair, thegovernment maintained that the Indonesian Communist Party was exclusively responsible for the coup attempt. From 1965 to 1967, Suharto presided over a bloodbath that destroyed the Indonesian Communist Party. Estimates of the number of people killed range from a quarter of a million to more than 1 million. Hundreds of thousands of citizens suspected of having leftistaffiliations, including large numbers of teachers and student activists, were imprisoned. Most of them were never tried, let alone convicted of any offense. Suharto was officially proclaimed president in March 1967.
Under Suharto’s “New Order” regime, Indonesian society became progressively militarized, with the Indonesian armed forces playing an increasingly prominent role as a social and political force. Throughout his rule, Suharto viciously suppressed any sign of anti-government unrest or separatist ambition. Military operations, most notably in East Timor, Aceh, and Papua, were characterized by undisciplined and unaccountable troops committing widespread abuses against civilians, including extrajudicial executions, torture, forced disappearances, beatings, arbitrary arrests and detentions, and drastic limits on freedom of movement.
In 1975, just nine days after neighboring East Timor declared its independence from Portugal, Suharto ordered Indonesian forces to invade andannex the former colony. Indonesia’s occupation of East Timor was brutal, marked by atrocities such as the Santa Cruz massacre in 1991, when at least 270 pro-independence protesters were shot or beaten to death by the military.
“One of the enduring legacies of Suharto’s regime has been the culture that continues to block justice for victims of military abuses even today,” said Adams. “Maybe with Suharto’s passing, this legacy, too, can be brought to an end.”
A rare attempt at accountability for Suharto-era crimes occurred in trials held in 2004 against soldiers accused of participating in the “Tanjung Priok Massacre” in Jakarta two decades earlier. Yet the trials resulted in little justice for the families of the 33 or more civilians shot by government security forces during an anti-government demonstration. Two defendants were acquitted amid reports of political interference and witness intimidation. The remaining 12 defendants had their convictions overturned by an appeals court in June 2005.
Rabu, 30 Januari 2008
I learn that Suharto, former genocidal dictator of Indonesia
In real international news, I learn that Suharto, former genocidal dictator of Indonesia, has finally kicked the bucket. Suharto originally came to power with the backing of the US government, who trusted him to “deal with” the Communist Party of Indonesia, at that time the largest outside the Stalinist bloc. He did this by indiscriminately slaughtering more than 600,000 people, many of them in no way connected to the Communist Party (as if that made a difference). Hundreds of thousands more murders followed in West Papua, East Timor and Aceh. Although he was overthrown in 1998, neither he nor his grotesquely corrupt (and consequently extremely rich) family have been brought to justice. This impunity, again, involves the collusion of the Western powers.
Letters: SMH 29 January 2008
SMH 29/1/08
I hope Kevin Rudd will not be going or sending a representative to Soeharto’s funeral. He was responsible for the deaths of half a million Indonesians in 1965, 200,000 in East Timor during Indonesia’s illegal occupation, and up to a 100,000 in West Papua since Indonesian took control of that territory in 1963. To offer condolences or attend his funeral is an insult to the families of the victims of his brutal regime.
Joe Collins
Australia West Papua Association, Mosman
The Australian 29/1/08
I KNOW we are not supposed to speak ill of the dead but let�s get real. Suharto was responsible for the deaths of at least 500,000 Indonesians in 1965, 200,000 in East Timor during Indonesia�s illegal occupation of it, and up to a 100,000 in West Papua since Indonesia took control of that territory in 1963. To offer condolences or attend his funeral would be an insult to the families of the victims of his brutal regime.
Joe Collins
Mosman, NSW
The Australian 29/1/08
THE tributes to Suharto have begged the question, could Indonesia�s development have been achieved without militarism and repression?
Foreign governments curried favour with Suharto and his rapacious armed forces to allow primarily mining and logging companies to extract the country�s resource wealth. This support gave the green light to a ruthless process of territorial expansion and occupation. The result is that the country we know today as Indonesia was built through military force.
The murder of countless thousands of opponents to Suharto�s brutal system was accepted as a cost of doing business with Indonesia. Commentators could turn to a survivor and ask them what Suharto�s legacy was. In the villages and towns of Papua, which are still living with military abuse and surveillance, the legacy remains an entrenched system of fear.
In giving the Javanese peasantry their much-needed hand-up, Suharto enriched his cronies and oversaw massive environmental destruction through resource exploitation across the archipelago. Yet had he for one second during those 32 years suggested a change to the way business was done and jeopardised the profits of multinationals, Suharto may have become the international community�s public enemy number one.
John Wing
Research Fellow,
Centre for Peace and Conflict Studies,
University of Sydney
I hope Kevin Rudd will not be going or sending a representative to Soeharto’s funeral. He was responsible for the deaths of half a million Indonesians in 1965, 200,000 in East Timor during Indonesia’s illegal occupation, and up to a 100,000 in West Papua since Indonesian took control of that territory in 1963. To offer condolences or attend his funeral is an insult to the families of the victims of his brutal regime.
Joe Collins
Australia West Papua Association, Mosman
The Australian 29/1/08
I KNOW we are not supposed to speak ill of the dead but let�s get real. Suharto was responsible for the deaths of at least 500,000 Indonesians in 1965, 200,000 in East Timor during Indonesia�s illegal occupation of it, and up to a 100,000 in West Papua since Indonesia took control of that territory in 1963. To offer condolences or attend his funeral would be an insult to the families of the victims of his brutal regime.
Joe Collins
Mosman, NSW
The Australian 29/1/08
THE tributes to Suharto have begged the question, could Indonesia�s development have been achieved without militarism and repression?
Foreign governments curried favour with Suharto and his rapacious armed forces to allow primarily mining and logging companies to extract the country�s resource wealth. This support gave the green light to a ruthless process of territorial expansion and occupation. The result is that the country we know today as Indonesia was built through military force.
The murder of countless thousands of opponents to Suharto�s brutal system was accepted as a cost of doing business with Indonesia. Commentators could turn to a survivor and ask them what Suharto�s legacy was. In the villages and towns of Papua, which are still living with military abuse and surveillance, the legacy remains an entrenched system of fear.
In giving the Javanese peasantry their much-needed hand-up, Suharto enriched his cronies and oversaw massive environmental destruction through resource exploitation across the archipelago. Yet had he for one second during those 32 years suggested a change to the way business was done and jeopardised the profits of multinationals, Suharto may have become the international community�s public enemy number one.
John Wing
Research Fellow,
Centre for Peace and Conflict Studies,
University of Sydney
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