YOUR PROBLEM, NOT OURS

 

Why bother? Everyone speaks English.         

 

                        

Pic: Oxford Uni

There are no votes in getting to know the neighbours.

How else to explain why successive Australian governments continue to ignore the crash of numbers learning Indonesian, and disregard the continuous and earnest appeals of teachers and academics to halt the slide?

It wasn’t always so.  Late last century, learning the words now used by more than 270 million - plus a further 32 million in Malaysia where the language is similar - was widely accepted.

 In large part the bonding was encouraged by former Prime Minister Paul Keating and his 1994 statement that ‘no country is more important to Australia than Indonesia.’

Successive leaders have said much the same but have failed to follow through.

Indonesian was once the most popular Asian language in Australian classrooms.  Now it’s Japanese and Mandarin with more students exploring vernaculars from distant Europe. Other nations teach the language next door: Spanish in the US, French in the UK.

Philistines might ask - so what?  Indonesian ranks tenth in the world’s top tongues and is little used outside Southeast Asia. Bengali and Arabic are more widespread.  But the Republic is tipped to become an economic world power when Covid-19 is controlled; Australia wants a part and already has a trade agreement in place.

The reluctance can be blamed on xenophobia.  In 1999 Australia supported the referendum on the future of the Indonesian province of East Timor where the locals voted 80 per cent in favour of independence.

Indonesians who expected the reverse result blamed Australia.  A security agreement developed by Keating was shredded by Jakarta.

The scorched-earth campaign by retreating troops and militia was universally condemned as Australia led the international peace-keepers. Then followed the 2002 Bali bombs, the 2004 Jakarta Embassy car blast and other attacks sourced to fundamentalists. 

The Indonesian government was as outraged by the terrorism as its counterpart Down Under but the long-term damage to the relationship continues.  The Lowy Institute’s annual opinion polls measure attitudes to our neighbours.   LI’s Southeast Asia Programme director Ben Bland commented:

‘Whether asked about their warmth toward Indonesia, confidence in its leaders, or even their level of basic knowledge about their biggest neighbour, Australians tend to show a combination of disinterest and distrust.’

Cuts in Australian newsrooms and the withdrawal of correspondents from Jakarta has left the media focussing on natural disasters and controversial issues, like the Supreme Court striking down school enforcement of girls wearing  jilbab (headscarves), charging people with blasphemy and banning alcohol.

In 2005 the Indonesian Majelis Ulama (Islamic Scholars’ Council) issued a fatwa (Islamic law ruling) banning liberalism, pluralism and secularism.  The edicts aren’t binding in civil law but are influential.

Australians who only know relaxed Hindu Bali and not the political, social and religious debates in Java and other islands found these news reports disquieting.

Likewise with Indonesians bemused by stories of Aboriginal deaths in custody, more than 100,000 homeless in a rich nation with universal welfare and importing fruit pickers when 626,000 are unemployed.

The public tone must influence parents and teachers when advising students on courses to pursue. For all their soothing clichés, politicians know electors run cold on Indonesia; why bother helping schools and unis train future generations in understanding our region when there are no ballot box advantages in relating to foreigners except as customers?

It seems the motivation in Canberra for maintaining interest in Indonesia is based on the STDs - Security, Trade and Defence.  It’s certainly not to develop mateship.

Former PM and Liberal Party elder statesman John Howard didn’t help with a display of Anglo arrogance.  Last year he was reported  saying we shouldn’t be too worried about the slump in Asian language learning as English was ‘the lingua franca of Asia’.

True in the five-star hotels where politicians and business executives discuss policies, though false elsewhere across the archipelago. Some ministers and executives are cosmopolitan, though not Joko Widodo.  The president has a poor command of English and shows little enthusiasm for foreign affairs. 

Although learning English is compulsory in Indonesian schools, it’s given little time and badly taught.  Anecdotally interest is also waning fast. School leavers can parse verbs but few can communicate. Native speaker teachers are rare outside expensive private schools.

Data from Melbourne University’s Asia Education Foundation shows how badly the situation has deteriorated.  Five years ago 14,418 Australian primary students were studying Indonesia.  By year 12 the number had ‘fallen off a cliff’ (say educators) to 353.  These are the kids most like to seek further education, but their choices are shrinking.

Of our 42 unis, only a dozen will be meeting needs.  In 1992 Indonesian was taught on 22 campuses to around 2,000 students.

In a bid to persuade parents, students and teachers to abandon hostility towards intercultural learning, the AEF has released its ‘rationale’, Why Indonesia matters in our Schools. The colourful six-page brochure argues that ‘young Australians must learn to engage in the global community, particularly with our neighbours in the Indo-Pacific region.’

Although the AEF ‘partners’ with the Australian Government there’s little to show its advocacy has been effective.  Foundation executive director Hamish Curry has written that ‘Without nation-wide policies, consistent data, funding and collective support, Indonesian could be relegated to a forgotten corner of our education experiences.’

Simon Merrifield, a senior diplomat and first ambassador to ASEAN, has reportedly been appointed to review Australia’s relationship with Indonesia.  He could start by first listening to educators.

First published in Australian Outlook, 5 November 2021:

##https://www.internationalaffairs.org.au/australianoutlook/why-bother-everyone-speaks-english/

INDIVIDUALS MAKING A DIFFERENCE

Learning to be mates, step-by-step       

                                       

Numbers are still low and the hurdles remain high, but Dr David Reeve (right) is cautiously positive about building relationships between Indonesia and Australia through education.

The Australian academic’s optimism is not a cosy motherhood statement from a novice booster, but a hard-nosed observation from an old hand.

He believes the ceaseless predictions that Southeast Asia’s largest economy will continue to grow (the World Bank is forecasting 5.2 per cent this year against Australia’s 3 per cent) are pushing students who want to be part of the action. 

Reeve expects the drumbeat of business will draw the doers and dealers of the future to the archipelago seeking the rhythm at its source. In the past 18 months Australian government ministers have led two big trade missions to the Archipelago.

“Interest has moved away from the arts and humanities,” Reeve said. “Learning batik painting or ethnic dance can be done in spare time, as a hobby; it’s not the principal attraction. 

“Visiting Asia is no longer exotic – it has become routine for the young.  Some of these kids are miles ahead of earlier generations in relating to difference.

“The demand is in areas like economics, law, politics, development, sociology and feminism. Students want the whole experience - often taking short in-country courses and following these with work or internships. Tertiary institutions need to identify the possibilities.

“A few are already aware.  Yogyakarta’s Universitas Gadjah Mada (UGM) has courses in disaster management and conflict resolution attracting foreigners. In Manado (North Sulawesi) marine biology is an obvious area.  Unfortunately market research is seldom done.

“There are difficulties.  Visas to study in Singapore and Malaysia come through in two or three days. In Indonesia it can be two or three months. This has been the situation for too long.”

Reeve  is well credentialed to comment. Apart from being a Visiting Fellow at the University of New South Wales he’s also Deputy Consortium Director and Study Tour Coordinator for the Australia Consortium for In-Country Indonesian Studies.

This is a non-profit organization helping students enrol at Indonesian universities for one or more semesters earning credits recognized by their home institutions. Around 2,000 have used the scheme in the past two decades.

The success of ACICIS has cleared the scrub for the Australian government’s New Colombo Plan (NCP). In the past four years this has supported about 17,500 to study in more than 30 Indo-Pacific countries through ‘mobility grants’ and scholarships. (The original Colombo Plan last century helped students from ‘developing countries’ study in Australia and other Commonwealth nations.)

This year 105 won NCP scholarships.  Only 14 have chosen to study in Indonesia – most are at UGM.

Reeve says the scheme is attracting quality and another reason why he’s more plus than minus about Australians starting to better understand their northern neighbors.

The numbers are tiny when compared to Asians in lecture rooms Down Under.  This January (the latest figures available) more than 382,000 overseas students were enrolled – most from China and India. Around three per cent are Indonesians according to Australian Government statistics.

Reeve argues that Australian undergraduates who go to education institutions abroad are “opening up a new constitution and building personal contacts that will serve them well in their future careers.” 

The government promotes the NCP in similar terms:  ‘Internships, mentorships and practicums … provide students with opportunities to enhance their skills in real life situations, build cross-cultural competencies and develop professional networks that can last a lifetime.’

That’s been the case for Reeve who first came to Indonesia as a diplomat.  “I’d studied French so I was sent to Jakarta,” he commented wryly.  His doctorate analysed Golkar, the government party which dominated politics under second president Soeharto’s authoritarian rule till this century – and remains a major force

He’s lived in Indonesia for eleven years, and worked at four Indonesian universities. He was a founding lecturer in the Australian Studies program at Universitas Indonesia in the 1980s.

His experience has proved the wisdom that in Indonesia personal relationships trump official positions.  Even in university rector’s suites visitors can be asked about the offspring of their loins ahead of inquiries about intellectual output.

“Few campuses have built bilateral relationships that last,” said Reeve. “Australian universities have files of MOU (memorandum of understanding) that are going nowhere.  It’s very hard for head offices to make these work and maintain the links.

“Inter-campus relationships that are a success tend to come about at the departmental level where the bureaucracy is not so obstructive and where dynamic individuals operate through friendships built over the years.  There are signs this reality is being recognised.”

Because such deals are powered by committed individuals flying low they seldom get noticed and promoted by government publicity machines.

Vicki Richardson (left), Dean of Languages at the private co-educational Tranby College in Western Australia is an example.  In 2010 she set up an exchange program with a school in Surabaya.  The arrangement flourished.

Building on her contacts she is now English Coordinator in Senior State Schools in East Java.  It’s a volunteer position she created herself with support from the local government which provides a car, a driver and an advisor.

Richardson visits schools across the province that are below the national standards in English.  Sometimes backed by students from Australia she helps teachers with second language classroom strategies and encourages learners to build conversational confidence.

 Few instructors in state schools have visited English-speaking countries so have limited understanding of daily language use. They rely on grammar-based pedagogy which tends to bore.

Richardson hopes her initiative will be recognised, supported and expanded by the Australian government now she has shown what’s possible.

Reeve agreed, but concedes that the “signs remain mixed” regarding relationships between the Republic and its southern neighbor. 

An outrage like the 2002 Bali bombing or clashes of policy, like Australia’s involvement in Timor Leste’s independence could uproot the path that’s been laid.  Nonetheless Reeve stays smiling. “Anxiety levels are dropping,” he said. “Green shoots are starting to appear.”

(First published in Strategic Review 14 April 2017)

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MANY TONGUES - ONE LANGUAGE

Indonesian: The struggle for recognition                     

Earlier this year Manpower Minister Hanif Dhakiri sent a quiver of concern through the expat community:  He proposed reviving a 2013 regulation forcing foreign workers to pass a language test.

Would executives have to clutter their minds with words they’d never need at their next overseas posting?  Why bother when their Indonesian counterparts were eloquent in English?

The idea sunk but could resurface with the next wave of nationalism.  Duncan Graham reports:

Jack Kreiser, 20, (above, right) is clearly more scholarly than his freshman features suggest.  Unlike the clichéd Ugly American he comes across as polite and reserved, which suits Indonesian culture just fine.  He also has no clear career plan.

 “I’m interested in learning Indonesian and seeing what happens,” he said.  “It’s just for fun.  I’ve always been keen on languages and geography.  My parents worry, but I’m OK – people are friendly and supportive.”

He’s studying at Malang’s Malangkucecwara College of Economics [MCE] (left) on a six-month Bahasa Indonesia bagi Penutur Asing [BIPA – Indonesian for Foreign Speakers] course.  The campus is one of 104 institutions offering BIPA courses across the Republic.

Before he flew to East Java Kreiser studied Indonesian at the University of Minnesota. It has more than 51,000 students.  He was the only one interested in the vocabulary and grammar used by almost 300 million people. 

The figures get worse:  According to the Modern Language Association less than 300 tertiary students across the US are comfortable asking apa kabar? [What’s up?]

What is up? The US is far away so the indifference might be understandable – though not excusable for the world’s most powerful nation.  Surely it must be different in Indonesia’s southern neighbor separated by a narrow sea?

Not so. Fewer than 1,000 senior high school students in Australia are learning Indonesian. Far more were interested in 1972. The decline has been blamed on the 1998 Asian economic crisis, the Bali bombings of 2002 and 2005 and subsequent travel warnings which curbed educational exchanges.

Japanese is now the most popular language taught in Australia.

Melbourne University Professor Tim Lindsey predicts that Indonesian studies will be extinct at tertiary level within eight years.  And this despite shouts of protest by academics, diplomats and traders dating back decades.

In the Australian Parliament shadow treasurer Chris Bowen has been making headlines by confessing he’s learning Indonesian as though this is something weird, akin to nude tightrope walking.  He told journalists:

“We need a broader, less transactional relationship with Indonesia that needs to have mutual respect, and one way we show interest and respect is learning the language.”

 But he didn’t say what his Labor Party would do to change the situation if it wins office at the election next year and he didn’t get widespread support.

Western Australian Premier Colin Barnett, in Jakarta last month to check on the 25-year Sister-State relationship with East Java, reportedly rejected the idea that Asian language studies need to be saved.

He told AAP: ‘There are very few parts of the world where meetings aren’t conducted in English and they are generally not with interpreters.’

These are the slaps in the face for the world’s fourth largest nation whose unity has been built on consolidating a national language that’s the most used in Southeast Asia.  Outside this zone Indonesian is dwarfed by Chinese, Spanish, Hindi and English.

BIPA is Indonesia’s fight-back.  It’s a non-degree program run by the Ministry of Education and Culture, designed to promote Indonesian language by providing courses for foreign students.

Apart from these there are 136 BIPA programs in 22 countries, including Australia.

Although some students fund themselves, most are like Jack Kreiser, winners of Darmasiswa Scholarships, an Indonesian Government award scheme started in 1974.  Next year 640 successful applicants from 78 countries will get a monthly Rp 2 million [US $145] stipend and free tuition.

Three of the 19 enrolees at MCE have a Darmasiswa, including Ayaka Mashimo, 20, from Saitama and Yuka Ueno, 21, from Tokyo.  Their learning is even tougher because the Japanese kanji and kana writing systems are worlds apart from the Latin alphabet.

Like many foreigners they struggle with the complex system of prefixes and suffixes. “Most people think I’m Chinese,” said Ayaka.  “I just smile.”  But her colleague insists on explaining that she is Japanese and why she’s in Indonesia.

For those wanting to study privately at MCE, monthly fees, including tuition,  homestay, all meals and field trips amount to US $1,375 [Rp 19 million].  Air fares and visa costs are additional.

“One of the realities is that many Indonesian universities are opening BIPA programs and they are of greatly varying quality,” said Professor David Hill, the founder and director of the Australian Consortium for In-Country Indonesian Studies [ACICIS]. 

This has placed almost 2,000 foreign students in top Indonesian universities during the past 20 years.

“Even those [BIPA courses] at highly regarded universities are often very poorly taught. I believe such programs won’t attract Australian students unless they are well-run, attuned to the more interactive teaching styles that Australians expect, and widely marketed in Australia.

“There is a plethora of choice, but very little of excellent quality.”

MCE course controller Widodo (right) [“Indonesian is my second language, Javanese my first”] pioneered BIPA and has won awards for his work in Malang.  He agreed that standards varied across the archipelago.

He said MCE classes followed a total immersion program and were kept below 12 to ensure close contact.  He and his staff, who are trained teachers, have produced their own texts called Practical Indonesian.

Notices around the campus along with wayang kulit [shadow puppet] figures remind all that Disini hanya berbahasa Indonesia [here we only speak Indonesian].

 “Not all work is in class,” he said.  “We take trips to markets, events, public buildings and cultural sites.  I want Malangkucecwara to be the center of excellence so foreigners appreciate our life and culture.  As a consultant to BIPA I’ve been pushing for national accreditation of course providers.”

So has the Assosiasi Pengajar BIPA [Association of BIPA teachers], according to its director Dr Liliana Muliastuti.

“We are working with the Ministry to achieve this – maybe next year,” she said. “Interest in Indonesian is growing, particularly from ASEAN countries, and we are sending BIPA teachers overseas.”

The Indonesia Australia language Foundation, a company set up by the Indonesian and Australian governments has offices in Jakarta, Surabaya and Denpasar.  Although the primary purpose is teaching  English, 40-hour courses in Indonesian costing Rp 3 million [US$ 217], less for bigger classes, are available.

Private institutions claiming to have diplomats and multinational company clients are also advertising on the Internet.  Commented Dr Muliastuti: “Until we get national accreditation prospective students should do their own research on the quality of the institution and what it has achieved.”

Master stroke

In October 1928 nationalists at the Second Youth Conference in Jakarta swore the Sumpah Pemuda oath –one motherland, one nation, one language.

Then, as now, Javanese was the most spoken of the Archipelago’s 700 languages, while Dutch was used in government and business.

Instead the far-sighted delegates chose what was once known as Trade Malay and called it Indonesian. The decision was a master stroke, ensuring national unity. 

Fluency dazzles

When a 360-strong contingent of Australian businesspeople passed through the Archipelago last month (Nov) with goodies to trade, the Indonesia-Australia Report  website dug up a news clipping from 1968.

This covered a State visit by the late John Gorton, then prime minister of Australia and his wife Bettina.

Gorton was here to talk about economic and security issues, but the US-born First Lady stole the show by delivering formal speeches and radio chats in flawless Indonesian.

An honors graduate in oriental studies from the prestigious Australian National University, Mrs Gorton’s ability to respectfully relate to Indonesians probably did more to lift Australia’s profile than hours of TV showing suits shaking hands.

(First published in The Jakarta Post 20 December 2015)