Damsels of democracy seduce your vote Duncan Graham
Returning after a few months abroad certainly sharpens appreciation of the community-order shifts underway in modern Indonesia.
They’re minor and marginal, tremors rather than shakes, just quivers on the societal seismograph. No tsunami will follow but it seems the tide is surely, slowly and imperceptibly rising, unnoticed by stay put locals.
The first indicator was a giant poster at the end of our block promoting a hopeful for the upcoming election. So what? The streets have become tunnels flanked, topped and tailed by billowing silk-screened cotton advertising scores of candidates on the principle that quantity beats quality.
At previous elections the protocols were clear; candidates had to be male, ageing, plump and wear a peci, the Javanese rimless black cap. A black moustache was also de rigueur, indicating masculine vigor plus a finger thrust skyward, a la the Republic’s first president.
All academic qualifications, whether bought, borrowed or MM (Mickey Mouse) had to be listed, while the title Haji, indicating a visit to Mecca, was another important vote-catcher.
The few women who dared put their names forward as supporting acts were grizzled grannies cocooned like Egyptian mummies in mourning black or virgin white.
Slightly out of focus, and hovering like Banquo’s ghost over the candidate’s shoulder, must be a more recognisable face, President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono or a previous holder of the nation’s top job, like Gus Dur or Megawati Soekarnoputri – though never Habibie.
During her time as the most powerful woman leader in the world I watched her age under the burdens of office. Then she was dethroned and vanished for the next half decade.
Now she’s back and .. what a miracle! The former First Lady is younger, slimmer and more graceful, at least on the posters. If this is what five years in political limbo can do to a woman, then forget Omega 3 – just keep out of the public eye.
But there’s no phantom endorsing the candidature of Nanik, the lady whose portrait graces our suburb gateway for she’s a real stand-alone, a flawless knock-em-down beauty who should be pushing perfume, not politics.
She probably spent a week in a cream-bath before the photo was taken and another week getting each eyelash to turn heavenwards. She’s a Christian – surprising because followers of the Nazarene in this area are rare as honest cops.
For every surreptitious prayer meeting above a motorcycle workshop there are 20 magnificent Saudi-funded mosques, so the result will probably be No, No, Nanik.
It would be impolite and sexist to comment on this candidate’s other robust attributes. Enough to note that her jewel-encrusted crucifix doesn’t dangle vertically but nestles horizontally.
Not 200 metres further on Nanik is seriously challenged by auburn-tinted Siti whose chandelier earrings sparkle through tumbling locks. Siti dares show her glistening teeth. One is clearly a fang – so she’ll do well in politics.
Across the road is Golkar’s favorite, Endang who has apparently been to Mecca where she must have mislaid her headscarf. She seems a thoroughly modern matron, even backing the local football team, though unlike Nanik and Sita she keeps her blouse well buttoned.
Nearby is Tineka who forgot to visit a salon before the photo shoot so has had to rely on Photoshop. She has so few face lines her nose has almost vanished; the effect is like Sailor Moon having a bad-hair day. This must be for the teenage vote.
Only hot Farida thought a headscarf necessary to advertise her piety as a substitute for policy. She chose flame red and matched it with her lipstick, a far more volatile effect than some of her rivals.
In the long-standing and allegedly mature liberal Western democracy where I retreat from Java’s smog and noise, defacing, chain-sawing and even burning the posters of rival political parties is a pastime for inarticulate youth who think the ballot a bore.
Here in Indonesia, where hard-won democracy is still fumbling her way towards the light, the billboards remain intact.
Though only Neanderthals would vandalise pioneering Nanik and her courageous pioneering sisters, selflessly offering their splendid talents to the electorate. If they don’t get into parliament at least they’ll be able to sell skin-whiteners and wrinkle-removers.
Good luck to them all. I just wish I could vote.
(First published in The Sunday Post 22 February 09)
##
.
FAITH IN INDONESIA
The shape of the world a generation from now will be influenced far more by how we communicate the values of our society to others than by military or diplomatic superiority. William Fulbright, 1964
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Monday, February 02, 2009
THE ROTTEN EGG RESPONSE TO FUNDAMENTALISTS
Back to basics and responding eggsistentially © 2009 Duncan Graham
Just across the road from the Surabaya headquarters of the mighty Islamic organization Nahdlatul Ulama is a branch of Pizza Hut.
Along with KFC and McDonalds this fast-food outlet represents another insidious plot cooked up by the Great Satan to destroy Asian cuisine. That’s my view, and it’s probably shared by fundamentalists like the Majelis Mujahiddin and the Laskar Mujahiddin.
Though not apparently by the green-clad NU workers who queue for their double cheese Hawaiian crusty pizzas, tugging wispy beards and glaring ferociously at the Chinese teens, free of headscarves and inhibitions, who reckon Pizza Hut is the place to be seen.
But I don’t want to be seen. I loathe fast food and the one-taste-fits-all imperialist marketing. I’m here only because my favorite warung (roadside diner) has introduced salmonella into its otherwise delicious martabak.
These are the pancakes that contain a few dozen eggs and several cans of sweetened condensed milk plus a secret blend of herbs and spices. This dish is to cholesterol what petrol is to fire extinguishing. My martabak are fried inside a crepe mixture beaten tissue-thin by a nimble-fingered octogenarian who washes his hands in an open drain fed by nearby toilets.
The pizzas are overpriced and the taste indistinguishable from their cardboard boxes, but the food and surroundings are spotless, even if the ambience is easy-wipe walls and the furniture as plastic as the staff smiles.
Maybe the anger-enhanced NU lads staggering back to their recitations with stacks of takeaways also get sick eating roadside food and want to keep their stomachs in a state of grace. As my mother used to say, ‘cleanliness is next to Godliness.’
So I reckon the Mujahiddin mobs who threw rotten eggs at a fast food outlet in Mataram and demanded the restaurant replace Western fare with Indonesian food had the right idea. Note that they didn’t want the standards of hygiene changed.
If I’d been in the Lombok city I might have even egged them on with a few Allah Akbars (God is Great) of my own. That would have shaken their black and white view of the world and might have encouraged some East-West dialogue like this:
“Hey guys, why not go the whole hog… woops, er.. way, and throw out everything Western. Indonesia is just fine as it is. I love your country and its traditional simplicity – who needs capitalist materialism?
“Are those Nokia hand-phones you’re forever thumbing? Crush them underfoot, and let not their dust settle on your sandals.
“Are those Kijangs you’re driving? Tip them in the river, and may a mighty flood of waters cover these fossil-fuel guzzlers forever.
“Planning to fly to Mecca for the Hadj? Don’t do it brother, the airlines all use Boeings.
“Say, if you’ve got any rotten eggs left let’s hoof it down to the Garuda office and give them a serve. Demand they use Indonesian planes built with local resources, like bamboo.
“What, you’d rather go by ship? I don’t think Pelni takes its ferries that far but they’d give it a go with the right threats – sorry, encouragement. Not keen? Oh, I’ve got it. Most of the ships have been made in Europe
“You’re right, better to walk. After all the Walisongo nine who brought Islam to Java didn’t scoot around on Suzukis. But keep off the highways; remember they were built by the repressive Dutch. Stick to the paddies and we’ll get the feel of good Indonesian dirt between our toes. Forget tetanus shots – faith will get you through.
“Yes, I’ll join you, at least to Jakarta. Let’s hit the road and get into the dialectic together probing principles, prejudices and warped logic, seek a bit of common ground. We’ll swap yarns and create an archipelago version of the Canterbury Tales.
“A world without handphones, hamburgers and Hondas sounds just right to me, but butt out the butts. That’s another Western habit we can all do without.
“OK, one concession. No Marlboros. Just kretek hand rolled by virgins. So rip off those I-pods, discard those jeans. If it’s back to basics then I’m your man. But no martabak, thanks - unless they’re made by Pizza Hut.”
(First published in The Sunday Post 1 February 2009)
##
Just across the road from the Surabaya headquarters of the mighty Islamic organization Nahdlatul Ulama is a branch of Pizza Hut.
Along with KFC and McDonalds this fast-food outlet represents another insidious plot cooked up by the Great Satan to destroy Asian cuisine. That’s my view, and it’s probably shared by fundamentalists like the Majelis Mujahiddin and the Laskar Mujahiddin.
Though not apparently by the green-clad NU workers who queue for their double cheese Hawaiian crusty pizzas, tugging wispy beards and glaring ferociously at the Chinese teens, free of headscarves and inhibitions, who reckon Pizza Hut is the place to be seen.
But I don’t want to be seen. I loathe fast food and the one-taste-fits-all imperialist marketing. I’m here only because my favorite warung (roadside diner) has introduced salmonella into its otherwise delicious martabak.
These are the pancakes that contain a few dozen eggs and several cans of sweetened condensed milk plus a secret blend of herbs and spices. This dish is to cholesterol what petrol is to fire extinguishing. My martabak are fried inside a crepe mixture beaten tissue-thin by a nimble-fingered octogenarian who washes his hands in an open drain fed by nearby toilets.
The pizzas are overpriced and the taste indistinguishable from their cardboard boxes, but the food and surroundings are spotless, even if the ambience is easy-wipe walls and the furniture as plastic as the staff smiles.
Maybe the anger-enhanced NU lads staggering back to their recitations with stacks of takeaways also get sick eating roadside food and want to keep their stomachs in a state of grace. As my mother used to say, ‘cleanliness is next to Godliness.’
So I reckon the Mujahiddin mobs who threw rotten eggs at a fast food outlet in Mataram and demanded the restaurant replace Western fare with Indonesian food had the right idea. Note that they didn’t want the standards of hygiene changed.
If I’d been in the Lombok city I might have even egged them on with a few Allah Akbars (God is Great) of my own. That would have shaken their black and white view of the world and might have encouraged some East-West dialogue like this:
“Hey guys, why not go the whole hog… woops, er.. way, and throw out everything Western. Indonesia is just fine as it is. I love your country and its traditional simplicity – who needs capitalist materialism?
“Are those Nokia hand-phones you’re forever thumbing? Crush them underfoot, and let not their dust settle on your sandals.
“Are those Kijangs you’re driving? Tip them in the river, and may a mighty flood of waters cover these fossil-fuel guzzlers forever.
“Planning to fly to Mecca for the Hadj? Don’t do it brother, the airlines all use Boeings.
“Say, if you’ve got any rotten eggs left let’s hoof it down to the Garuda office and give them a serve. Demand they use Indonesian planes built with local resources, like bamboo.
“What, you’d rather go by ship? I don’t think Pelni takes its ferries that far but they’d give it a go with the right threats – sorry, encouragement. Not keen? Oh, I’ve got it. Most of the ships have been made in Europe
“You’re right, better to walk. After all the Walisongo nine who brought Islam to Java didn’t scoot around on Suzukis. But keep off the highways; remember they were built by the repressive Dutch. Stick to the paddies and we’ll get the feel of good Indonesian dirt between our toes. Forget tetanus shots – faith will get you through.
“Yes, I’ll join you, at least to Jakarta. Let’s hit the road and get into the dialectic together probing principles, prejudices and warped logic, seek a bit of common ground. We’ll swap yarns and create an archipelago version of the Canterbury Tales.
“A world without handphones, hamburgers and Hondas sounds just right to me, but butt out the butts. That’s another Western habit we can all do without.
“OK, one concession. No Marlboros. Just kretek hand rolled by virgins. So rip off those I-pods, discard those jeans. If it’s back to basics then I’m your man. But no martabak, thanks - unless they’re made by Pizza Hut.”
(First published in The Sunday Post 1 February 2009)
##
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Sunday, December 28, 2008
KUNTORO MANGKUSUBROTO
Kuntoro Mangkusubroto
Working as the hands of God Duncan Graham
At the time it was the toughest job in Indonesia.
Repair a landscape ripped raw by the world’s most extreme natural disaster; house the grief-torn survivors who’d lost more than 170,000 relatives, friends and neighbors; rebuild roads, bridges, ports, power stations, hospitals – all the infrastructure that makes cities function.
Manage a huge budget and be accountable to governments and NGOs in Indonesia and around the world.
Cope with the hostility, the prejudice, the deep-seated suspicions still virulent after 30 years of civil war, the jealousy, the angry confrontationists and the back-stabbers. Aceh was a tortured land drained of trust, particularly hostile towards Javanese from the central government.
That Kuntoro Mangkusubroto stayed the distance, achieved the goals and at 61 looks fresh enough to tackle another epic catastrophe indicates that the director of the Bureau of Rehabilitation and Reconstruction in Aceh and Nias (BRR) is a distinctly gifted human being – though he rejects this appraisal: “I’m just myself.”
Four years ago this Boxing Day a massive undersea earthquake off Aceh triggered a tsunami. Waves to 12 meters swept across 800 kilometers of coast and up to 1.6 kilometers inland.
It was a scene from Armageddon.
The world pledged US $7.2 billion and paid $6.7 billion. Thousands of aid workers flooded in with a multiplicity of agendas. Also lured were those who saw the chance to exploit the situation and milk the largesse.
Indonesia ranks 143 on the world’s corruption index and the cynics predicted much of the aid would never reach those hurting most, and that petty bureaucracy would destroy even the best intentioned and most resilient.
There has been some minor project-level corruption that’s being pursued, according to Kuntoro, but the BRR has not been infected. The agency’s accounts have been checked by international auditors and given an unqualified pass.
“We set up an internal anti-corruption unit, the first for any Indonesian government agency,” he said in Wellington, New Zealand. He was in the country to address a conference on disaster risk management and thank Kiwis for their aid. Like Australia, NZ was among the first countries to offer help.
“We developed new standards of accountability for Indonesia and in advance of many other countries.
“We encouraged everyone to blow the whistle if they saw anything amiss. They just had to send me an SMS. I asked my staff to pledge their honesty and promise never to take one penny they were not entitled to have.”
When President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono hand picked the former Minister for Mines, business rescuer, company director, academic and civil engineer to take on the new BRR job in April 2005 Kuntoro dictated his terms.
They included ministerial ranking, direct access to the President (a privilege used only three times) and a salary three times larger than other ministers, an issue that drew much criticism.
“They were able to moonlight to supplement their salaries. I have no other income,” he said. “I do not take speaking fees or envelopes for anything I do.
“I fly economy class and not just to save money. At the back of the plane people talk to me and tell me what’s really happening. I thought this job was the chance given by God to touch the hands of the needy people, to go and do something good.
“Not many have that opportunity. Our success can be measured.”
Kuntoro said he draws his moral values and anti-corruption stand from his parents: “My father was a straight lawyer and my mother a professor of English.
“They brought me up to do good for other people, to be a good person, to be happy. We led a simple life. Although I started as a civil engineer (he was educated at Bandung Institute of Technology and Stanford University in the US), I fell in love with decision analysis.
“This discipline covers so many issues, but above all moral values are the most important. There are consequences to every action and the last defence is your conscience. You can compromise your strategy but never compromise your values.
“Have I been tempted? Many times, but it’s always like that. Life isn’t all about money. How does money relate to family, values and God?
“There were no how-to textbooks available for this job, no models of what to do. The task was so huge. I’ve had to face demonstrations and brutal words.
“Management was a nightmare. People blamed me for being too slow or not sensitive enough, but I had to remember they were the victims and had the right to blame.
“Twice I felt like giving up. I’m not too religious, but I believe. Yes. I trusted that we were sent by God to do this job. We are the extension of the hands of God and it is our duty.”
The first bureaucratic challenge came within hours of Kuntoro being sworn into office at the Presidential Palace. No one in the government would give him the money for airfares to Aceh because there was no system in place and it was a weekend.
The Australian aid agency AusAID stepped in with US $100,000 cash and Kuntoro and his team were able to get to ground zero. But there was no office or housing. Then the United Nations High Commission for Refugees gave the BRR space.
“I thought these things were God’s doing,” he said. “I was just the man in the middle.”
“When I chose staff I sought people of the highest integrity. I didn’t know them before. I asked if they were willing. If they said ‘yes’ they were employed. If they asked ‘how much?’ or ‘I’ll have to ask my boss’ then they were out.
“I have self confidence – some think I have too much. A good manager must have guts and be self reliant, have a nothing-to-lose attitude. You will make mistakes. The art is in solving problems at the lowest cost, to create harmony and make unbiased judgements, to get results.”
In April the BRR vanishes from everything except the history books. One of these will be written by Kuntoro unless he’s headhunted to fix another crisis.
In material terms the BRR has changed Aceh for the better. Much good has come from much horror.
More than 93 per cent of the job has been done. People are back farming and fishing. Traffic chaos has returned. The roads are bituminised, the bridges sturdy, the 125,000 new houses hygienic, the public buildings of a standard better then other provinces. Visa, work permit and import clearance procedures have been streamlined and accelerated, delivered through a one-stop shop.
Land titles now include the wife’s name ensuring her security should her husband die – a reform yet to spread to other provinces. National whistle-blower laws are being considered.
The templates for business and departmental propriety are there for other agencies and managers to pick up – if they so desire. Could corruption be eliminated and Indonesia rank high among the world’s clean countries?
Kuntoro, normally master of the snappy response, paused: “Yes. But only if there’s the political will.”
Working as the hands of God Duncan Graham
At the time it was the toughest job in Indonesia.
Repair a landscape ripped raw by the world’s most extreme natural disaster; house the grief-torn survivors who’d lost more than 170,000 relatives, friends and neighbors; rebuild roads, bridges, ports, power stations, hospitals – all the infrastructure that makes cities function.
Manage a huge budget and be accountable to governments and NGOs in Indonesia and around the world.
Cope with the hostility, the prejudice, the deep-seated suspicions still virulent after 30 years of civil war, the jealousy, the angry confrontationists and the back-stabbers. Aceh was a tortured land drained of trust, particularly hostile towards Javanese from the central government.
That Kuntoro Mangkusubroto stayed the distance, achieved the goals and at 61 looks fresh enough to tackle another epic catastrophe indicates that the director of the Bureau of Rehabilitation and Reconstruction in Aceh and Nias (BRR) is a distinctly gifted human being – though he rejects this appraisal: “I’m just myself.”
Four years ago this Boxing Day a massive undersea earthquake off Aceh triggered a tsunami. Waves to 12 meters swept across 800 kilometers of coast and up to 1.6 kilometers inland.
It was a scene from Armageddon.
The world pledged US $7.2 billion and paid $6.7 billion. Thousands of aid workers flooded in with a multiplicity of agendas. Also lured were those who saw the chance to exploit the situation and milk the largesse.
Indonesia ranks 143 on the world’s corruption index and the cynics predicted much of the aid would never reach those hurting most, and that petty bureaucracy would destroy even the best intentioned and most resilient.
There has been some minor project-level corruption that’s being pursued, according to Kuntoro, but the BRR has not been infected. The agency’s accounts have been checked by international auditors and given an unqualified pass.
“We set up an internal anti-corruption unit, the first for any Indonesian government agency,” he said in Wellington, New Zealand. He was in the country to address a conference on disaster risk management and thank Kiwis for their aid. Like Australia, NZ was among the first countries to offer help.
“We developed new standards of accountability for Indonesia and in advance of many other countries.
“We encouraged everyone to blow the whistle if they saw anything amiss. They just had to send me an SMS. I asked my staff to pledge their honesty and promise never to take one penny they were not entitled to have.”
When President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono hand picked the former Minister for Mines, business rescuer, company director, academic and civil engineer to take on the new BRR job in April 2005 Kuntoro dictated his terms.
They included ministerial ranking, direct access to the President (a privilege used only three times) and a salary three times larger than other ministers, an issue that drew much criticism.
“They were able to moonlight to supplement their salaries. I have no other income,” he said. “I do not take speaking fees or envelopes for anything I do.
“I fly economy class and not just to save money. At the back of the plane people talk to me and tell me what’s really happening. I thought this job was the chance given by God to touch the hands of the needy people, to go and do something good.
“Not many have that opportunity. Our success can be measured.”
Kuntoro said he draws his moral values and anti-corruption stand from his parents: “My father was a straight lawyer and my mother a professor of English.
“They brought me up to do good for other people, to be a good person, to be happy. We led a simple life. Although I started as a civil engineer (he was educated at Bandung Institute of Technology and Stanford University in the US), I fell in love with decision analysis.
“This discipline covers so many issues, but above all moral values are the most important. There are consequences to every action and the last defence is your conscience. You can compromise your strategy but never compromise your values.
“Have I been tempted? Many times, but it’s always like that. Life isn’t all about money. How does money relate to family, values and God?
“There were no how-to textbooks available for this job, no models of what to do. The task was so huge. I’ve had to face demonstrations and brutal words.
“Management was a nightmare. People blamed me for being too slow or not sensitive enough, but I had to remember they were the victims and had the right to blame.
“Twice I felt like giving up. I’m not too religious, but I believe. Yes. I trusted that we were sent by God to do this job. We are the extension of the hands of God and it is our duty.”
The first bureaucratic challenge came within hours of Kuntoro being sworn into office at the Presidential Palace. No one in the government would give him the money for airfares to Aceh because there was no system in place and it was a weekend.
The Australian aid agency AusAID stepped in with US $100,000 cash and Kuntoro and his team were able to get to ground zero. But there was no office or housing. Then the United Nations High Commission for Refugees gave the BRR space.
“I thought these things were God’s doing,” he said. “I was just the man in the middle.”
“When I chose staff I sought people of the highest integrity. I didn’t know them before. I asked if they were willing. If they said ‘yes’ they were employed. If they asked ‘how much?’ or ‘I’ll have to ask my boss’ then they were out.
“I have self confidence – some think I have too much. A good manager must have guts and be self reliant, have a nothing-to-lose attitude. You will make mistakes. The art is in solving problems at the lowest cost, to create harmony and make unbiased judgements, to get results.”
In April the BRR vanishes from everything except the history books. One of these will be written by Kuntoro unless he’s headhunted to fix another crisis.
In material terms the BRR has changed Aceh for the better. Much good has come from much horror.
More than 93 per cent of the job has been done. People are back farming and fishing. Traffic chaos has returned. The roads are bituminised, the bridges sturdy, the 125,000 new houses hygienic, the public buildings of a standard better then other provinces. Visa, work permit and import clearance procedures have been streamlined and accelerated, delivered through a one-stop shop.
Land titles now include the wife’s name ensuring her security should her husband die – a reform yet to spread to other provinces. National whistle-blower laws are being considered.
The templates for business and departmental propriety are there for other agencies and managers to pick up – if they so desire. Could corruption be eliminated and Indonesia rank high among the world’s clean countries?
Kuntoro, normally master of the snappy response, paused: “Yes. But only if there’s the political will.”
(First published in The Jakarta Post on Boxing Day 2008)
##
Monday, December 15, 2008
BENNY SUSETYO - TURBULENT PRIEST
Bashed, bloodied but unbeaten © Duncan Graham 2008
Preaching the universal religious virtues of peace, love, understanding and forgiveness is easy enough before backslapping thinkalikes in a safe house.
In the warmth of the applause the speaker can bask in the sunshine of self-righteousness. The challenge comes when the audience is hostile, even brutal and the environment is the street.
Catholic priest Benny Susetyo has been confronted by the ugly side of Indonesian life and passed the test splendidly. Though not without considerable pain.
In August he was bashed senseless by three thugs and spent five days recuperating and undergoing tests in a Singapore hospital. So far no-one had been arrested for the crime.
His assault came a few months after hoons from the Islamic Defenders’ Front (FPI) thumped peace marchers in central Jakarta, wounding 70. This encouraged the Christian press to claim Father Benny was the victim of a planned assault by fundamentalists aiming to fracture Indonesian pluralism. However the victim doesn’t go so far, saying he doesn’t know why he was bashed.
He said he is no longer in pain and had forgiven his assailants – “of course.” Maybe they were just after his handphone.
If the criminals were religious loonies or hired hitmen who thought their violence might bludgeon the secretary of the Inter-Religious Commission of the Indonesian Bishops’ Conference into silence they selected the wrong man.
For the human rights activist is still hammering his message of reform in the way Indonesians use and misuse religion and he’s taking his mission far afield.
His latest stop was New Zealand where he was invited during Human Rights Week by the Indonesian Embassy to promote the Republic as a multi-faith tolerant society. His visit was also used to celebrate the Christmas season.
NZ is a nation that still holds to a Judaeo-Christian heritage and values, but where organised religion is in decline. There are about 40,000 Muslims in the South Pacific country and only a tiny fraction from Indonesia.
“There are so many things that New Zealanders can do to help democracy and promote public civilization in Indonesia,” he told anyone who would listen during a tour in early December.
“I don’t just mean in terms of trade. Visit Indonesia and do whatever you can to explain what’s happening in the world. Spread the message that religion must be on the side of the poor and disadvantaged.
“Religion is being used as an instrument of power in Indonesia, manipulated by the State and big business.
“Religion has been trapped by rituals, people chasing after symbols and failing to find the balance between the state and the market. Religion must be a source of morality.”
Father Benny sees parallels in Indonesia with the Soviet Union after Mikhail Gorbachev, the last head of the USSR who presided over the disintegration of the union and the arrival of democracy.
Father Benny claimed that the Russian people eventually grew tired of the way democracy was being mishandled and corrupted, and are now drifting back to totalitarianism. He fears the same disillusionment may infect Indonesians.
He said this is because politicians are continuing to use religion for their own ends and consequently risking harmony in Indonesia.
Benny Susetyo, 40, is normally based in Malang in East Java where he studied for a masters’ degree in philosophy. He is a member of the Alliance for National and Religious Freedom and has written several books on pluralism and religion.
In the mass media he has used Indonesia’s press (“the most free and democratic in Asia”) to savage the government’s response to the Lapindo mud volcano disaster in East Java, demanding that businessman Aburizal Bakrie (who is also the Coordinating Minister for the People’s Welfare) be held accountable.
The meddlesome priest has even dared to demand the government seize the Bakrie Group’s assets to compensate the thousands who have lost homes, land and jobs to the unstoppable eruption of gas and slime. (A Bakrie company was associated with the gas drilling that allegedly caused the eruption.)
Father Benny has also been a critic of the banning of the Islamic Ahmadiyah sect under pressure from hardline Muslims who believe that only their interpretation of the faith is correct.
His other targets have been poorly educated religious leaders who have used the hate passages in the ancient books to provoke violence. So it’s easy to assume the man has garnered many enemies who might want to give him a hard time – literally and metaphorically.
“We need a new paradigm for religious teaching that will interpret the texts in accordance with modern usage,” he said.
“Take off your exclusive glasses and start looking at the world in an inclusive way. The dialogue must be about life. The challenge for religion is to take sides with the downtrodden, the poor, migrant workers – and advocate on their behalf.
“In many cases religion has lost its true essence in bringing peace and justice to the world – advocating solidarity, forgiveness and being good friends with all. Plurality should be the main issue in the development of our national character.”
In an earlier age Father Benny would have been pilloried as a Communist and publicly harassed by the military and police if not jailed. For he is not afraid of putting the boot into politicians and the corporate world, both untouchables during Soeharto’s authoritarian era.
He has focussed on the power of cashed-up business-backed politicians to buy media time and who use religion to clothe themselves with piety in the search for votes.
At the same time he has trust in the common sense of the ordinary people. He said they had not been fooled by the large number of celebrities and clerics who have put their names forward for public office; these candidates have been dumped at the ballot box.
He unsuccessfully supported the removal of religious affiliation from identity cards and thinks it will be some time before Indonesians can accept the idea that the state and religion should be divorced, as it is in NZ and many other Western countries.
“The issue is not to have a religion, but to be a religion,” he said. “Religion has become a plaything of the state.
“The important things are not the number of places of worship, but the creation of a life of togetherness. We have to become better educated and intellectually more mature.”
(First published in The Jakarta Post 13 December 2008)
##
Preaching the universal religious virtues of peace, love, understanding and forgiveness is easy enough before backslapping thinkalikes in a safe house.
In the warmth of the applause the speaker can bask in the sunshine of self-righteousness. The challenge comes when the audience is hostile, even brutal and the environment is the street.
Catholic priest Benny Susetyo has been confronted by the ugly side of Indonesian life and passed the test splendidly. Though not without considerable pain.
In August he was bashed senseless by three thugs and spent five days recuperating and undergoing tests in a Singapore hospital. So far no-one had been arrested for the crime.
His assault came a few months after hoons from the Islamic Defenders’ Front (FPI) thumped peace marchers in central Jakarta, wounding 70. This encouraged the Christian press to claim Father Benny was the victim of a planned assault by fundamentalists aiming to fracture Indonesian pluralism. However the victim doesn’t go so far, saying he doesn’t know why he was bashed.
He said he is no longer in pain and had forgiven his assailants – “of course.” Maybe they were just after his handphone.
If the criminals were religious loonies or hired hitmen who thought their violence might bludgeon the secretary of the Inter-Religious Commission of the Indonesian Bishops’ Conference into silence they selected the wrong man.
For the human rights activist is still hammering his message of reform in the way Indonesians use and misuse religion and he’s taking his mission far afield.
His latest stop was New Zealand where he was invited during Human Rights Week by the Indonesian Embassy to promote the Republic as a multi-faith tolerant society. His visit was also used to celebrate the Christmas season.
NZ is a nation that still holds to a Judaeo-Christian heritage and values, but where organised religion is in decline. There are about 40,000 Muslims in the South Pacific country and only a tiny fraction from Indonesia.
“There are so many things that New Zealanders can do to help democracy and promote public civilization in Indonesia,” he told anyone who would listen during a tour in early December.
“I don’t just mean in terms of trade. Visit Indonesia and do whatever you can to explain what’s happening in the world. Spread the message that religion must be on the side of the poor and disadvantaged.
“Religion is being used as an instrument of power in Indonesia, manipulated by the State and big business.
“Religion has been trapped by rituals, people chasing after symbols and failing to find the balance between the state and the market. Religion must be a source of morality.”
Father Benny sees parallels in Indonesia with the Soviet Union after Mikhail Gorbachev, the last head of the USSR who presided over the disintegration of the union and the arrival of democracy.
Father Benny claimed that the Russian people eventually grew tired of the way democracy was being mishandled and corrupted, and are now drifting back to totalitarianism. He fears the same disillusionment may infect Indonesians.
He said this is because politicians are continuing to use religion for their own ends and consequently risking harmony in Indonesia.
Benny Susetyo, 40, is normally based in Malang in East Java where he studied for a masters’ degree in philosophy. He is a member of the Alliance for National and Religious Freedom and has written several books on pluralism and religion.
In the mass media he has used Indonesia’s press (“the most free and democratic in Asia”) to savage the government’s response to the Lapindo mud volcano disaster in East Java, demanding that businessman Aburizal Bakrie (who is also the Coordinating Minister for the People’s Welfare) be held accountable.
The meddlesome priest has even dared to demand the government seize the Bakrie Group’s assets to compensate the thousands who have lost homes, land and jobs to the unstoppable eruption of gas and slime. (A Bakrie company was associated with the gas drilling that allegedly caused the eruption.)
Father Benny has also been a critic of the banning of the Islamic Ahmadiyah sect under pressure from hardline Muslims who believe that only their interpretation of the faith is correct.
His other targets have been poorly educated religious leaders who have used the hate passages in the ancient books to provoke violence. So it’s easy to assume the man has garnered many enemies who might want to give him a hard time – literally and metaphorically.
“We need a new paradigm for religious teaching that will interpret the texts in accordance with modern usage,” he said.
“Take off your exclusive glasses and start looking at the world in an inclusive way. The dialogue must be about life. The challenge for religion is to take sides with the downtrodden, the poor, migrant workers – and advocate on their behalf.
“In many cases religion has lost its true essence in bringing peace and justice to the world – advocating solidarity, forgiveness and being good friends with all. Plurality should be the main issue in the development of our national character.”
In an earlier age Father Benny would have been pilloried as a Communist and publicly harassed by the military and police if not jailed. For he is not afraid of putting the boot into politicians and the corporate world, both untouchables during Soeharto’s authoritarian era.
He has focussed on the power of cashed-up business-backed politicians to buy media time and who use religion to clothe themselves with piety in the search for votes.
At the same time he has trust in the common sense of the ordinary people. He said they had not been fooled by the large number of celebrities and clerics who have put their names forward for public office; these candidates have been dumped at the ballot box.
He unsuccessfully supported the removal of religious affiliation from identity cards and thinks it will be some time before Indonesians can accept the idea that the state and religion should be divorced, as it is in NZ and many other Western countries.
“The issue is not to have a religion, but to be a religion,” he said. “Religion has become a plaything of the state.
“The important things are not the number of places of worship, but the creation of a life of togetherness. We have to become better educated and intellectually more mature.”
(First published in The Jakarta Post 13 December 2008)
##
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
JACK BODY: Kiwi master of Indonesian music
Jack Body
Interpreting Indonesia’s sensuality through the Bard © Duncan Graham 2008
Living in one of the most isolated Western countries in the world requires adjustments and rituals. For Pakeha (white Kiwis) one essential has long been the big trip abroad known colloquially as OE, or overseas experience.
This journey, mainly to explore the northern hemisphere and seek the family’s roots, is an important part of the culture of New Zealand, a country still searching for its identity.
Young musicologist Jack Body was no exception. He’d already graduated with a masters degree from Auckland University and won a prestigious arts fellowship. In the late 1960s he headed for Europe where he studied in Cologne and at the Institute of Sonology at Utrecht.
Then he took the long way home wandering through Europe and South-East Asia with his mind and microphone open. The last stop was Indonesia.
“I was an innocent abroad and I knew next to nothing about the country,” he said. “I’d already been to India and was intrigued by the music I’d heard in the streets and villages.
“But Indonesia was quite different. By comparison I found India to be harsh. In Indonesia I started recording the sounds I heard, like other people take photographs of their travels.
“I followed my ears. I recorded birds, animals, street sounds, music. I was fascinated by the fantastic richness of the culture. I liked the way that people took things easily. They couldn’t be bothered to get hot and bothered.
“What attracted me most? The sensuality.”
Back in NZ Body transcribed some of the music he’d collected, a laborious task but one he thought necessary to understand what he’d heard. He also knew he needed more of the seductive archipelago.
In 1976 he scored a guest lectureship at the Akademi Musik Indonesia in Yogyakarta where he stayed for two years. On his return home he joined the academic staff of the School of Music at Wellington’s Victoria University where he’s now an associate professor.
He’s been a featured composer in the US and Holland, a widely exhibited photographer and he also runs a music publisher called Waiteata Music Press. His speciality has been cross-cultural compositions and experimental electro-acoustics.
In these jobs he’s set out to bring the music of Asia, and Indonesia in particular, to the attention of Kiwis and he’s done this with such success that he’s won a swag of awards, including a NZ Order of Merit in the 2001 Honors List. The following year his recordings titled Pulse won the NZ Music Award for the Best New Classical CD.
And all the time he’s been promoting Indonesian culture, along the way collecting a set of Javanese gamelan instruments for his university donated by Ibu Tien Soeharto, the wife of the late Indonesian president.
This year he’s been back to Indonesia twice, recording music played by the soldiers of the kraton (palace) in Yogyakarta. He said the music was an intriguing and ancient European-derived mix of fifes, drums and other instruments performed by men in quaint uniforms whose origins could well be the topic of a PhD.
Body’s work isn’t the only way Kiwis are learning more about Indonesia. He’s organized numerous residencies in Wellington for Indonesian artists and praised the Indonesian government for offering a range of cultural scholarships for structured three-month arts programs. These are expected to be enhanced later this year when an agreement between Indonesia and NZ is signed allowing young people from both countries to get work visas.
Now 64 Body shows no sign of going stale, repetitive or monotone. If he followed the Shakespeare formula he’d be ‘the lean and slippered pantaloon’ but he moves, physically and intellectually, as nimbly as his students.
He has the quirky mannerisms of a long-time creative artist living in a parallel universe where music rules. While he has to be involved in teaching and university administration his mind seems to be somewhere else, pulling sounds and ideas together for some future fusion.
His latest production (“exhilarating, the most ambitious I’ve ever done”), staged with help from the Indonesian Embassy in NZ and the Asia-NZ Foundation, was the Seven Ages of Man, a ‘cross-cultural, multi-media music theater’ piece based on Shakespeare’s famous lines in All’s Well That Ends Well:
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
Body’s idea was to mix bits of the Bard in English with music from the Javanese gamelan and a Balinese gamelan, plus an electric violin, four vocalists singing in Javanese and Balinese, and have the lot interpreted in dance and puppetry.
Translation of the Shakespeare was not without difficulties. The verse about the soldier ‘full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,’ caused problems.
“In Shakespeare’s time most of the military were mercenaries, but in Indonesia being a soldier is an elitist occupation,” said Body. “We had to make some adjustments in the language.
”Many people in the English-speaking world have been taught the Seven Ages of Man and I found Indonesians related well to the sentiments.”
The composers included the Javanese gamelan director Budi Putra (originally from Solo but now a NZ resident) and the Balinese gamelan director I Wayan Gde Yudane. Most of the gamelan players were university students and staff, including Jack Body.
In the wrong hands this could have become a real dog’s breakfast, but in fact it worked brilliantly on every level – emotional, imaginative and creative.
There were several reasons; the inclusion of the masked multi-talented Balinese dalang (puppet master) I Nyoman Sukerta as a musician, singer, dancer and actor, was a masterstroke.
So was a lighting system that included a haze machine, recreating in the Wellington timber studio the misty, musty, dusty, mysterious, spooky, smoky and almost tangible atmosphere found in villages and kampongs of Indonesia come nightfall. The only thing absent was the scent of clove cigarettes, for NZ takes its anti-smoking laws seriously.
“The reception has been great,” said the exuberant ethnomusicologist. “I love this synthesis – I’ve long wanted to use dance and now I’ve got the theater bug. We’re hoping to take the production on tour around NZ, maybe even to Indonesia. That would be terrific.”
(First published in The Jakarta Post 11 November 2008)
##
Interpreting Indonesia’s sensuality through the Bard © Duncan Graham 2008
Living in one of the most isolated Western countries in the world requires adjustments and rituals. For Pakeha (white Kiwis) one essential has long been the big trip abroad known colloquially as OE, or overseas experience.
This journey, mainly to explore the northern hemisphere and seek the family’s roots, is an important part of the culture of New Zealand, a country still searching for its identity.
Young musicologist Jack Body was no exception. He’d already graduated with a masters degree from Auckland University and won a prestigious arts fellowship. In the late 1960s he headed for Europe where he studied in Cologne and at the Institute of Sonology at Utrecht.
Then he took the long way home wandering through Europe and South-East Asia with his mind and microphone open. The last stop was Indonesia.
“I was an innocent abroad and I knew next to nothing about the country,” he said. “I’d already been to India and was intrigued by the music I’d heard in the streets and villages.
“But Indonesia was quite different. By comparison I found India to be harsh. In Indonesia I started recording the sounds I heard, like other people take photographs of their travels.
“I followed my ears. I recorded birds, animals, street sounds, music. I was fascinated by the fantastic richness of the culture. I liked the way that people took things easily. They couldn’t be bothered to get hot and bothered.
“What attracted me most? The sensuality.”
Back in NZ Body transcribed some of the music he’d collected, a laborious task but one he thought necessary to understand what he’d heard. He also knew he needed more of the seductive archipelago.
In 1976 he scored a guest lectureship at the Akademi Musik Indonesia in Yogyakarta where he stayed for two years. On his return home he joined the academic staff of the School of Music at Wellington’s Victoria University where he’s now an associate professor.
He’s been a featured composer in the US and Holland, a widely exhibited photographer and he also runs a music publisher called Waiteata Music Press. His speciality has been cross-cultural compositions and experimental electro-acoustics.
In these jobs he’s set out to bring the music of Asia, and Indonesia in particular, to the attention of Kiwis and he’s done this with such success that he’s won a swag of awards, including a NZ Order of Merit in the 2001 Honors List. The following year his recordings titled Pulse won the NZ Music Award for the Best New Classical CD.
And all the time he’s been promoting Indonesian culture, along the way collecting a set of Javanese gamelan instruments for his university donated by Ibu Tien Soeharto, the wife of the late Indonesian president.
This year he’s been back to Indonesia twice, recording music played by the soldiers of the kraton (palace) in Yogyakarta. He said the music was an intriguing and ancient European-derived mix of fifes, drums and other instruments performed by men in quaint uniforms whose origins could well be the topic of a PhD.
Body’s work isn’t the only way Kiwis are learning more about Indonesia. He’s organized numerous residencies in Wellington for Indonesian artists and praised the Indonesian government for offering a range of cultural scholarships for structured three-month arts programs. These are expected to be enhanced later this year when an agreement between Indonesia and NZ is signed allowing young people from both countries to get work visas.
Now 64 Body shows no sign of going stale, repetitive or monotone. If he followed the Shakespeare formula he’d be ‘the lean and slippered pantaloon’ but he moves, physically and intellectually, as nimbly as his students.
He has the quirky mannerisms of a long-time creative artist living in a parallel universe where music rules. While he has to be involved in teaching and university administration his mind seems to be somewhere else, pulling sounds and ideas together for some future fusion.
His latest production (“exhilarating, the most ambitious I’ve ever done”), staged with help from the Indonesian Embassy in NZ and the Asia-NZ Foundation, was the Seven Ages of Man, a ‘cross-cultural, multi-media music theater’ piece based on Shakespeare’s famous lines in All’s Well That Ends Well:
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
Body’s idea was to mix bits of the Bard in English with music from the Javanese gamelan and a Balinese gamelan, plus an electric violin, four vocalists singing in Javanese and Balinese, and have the lot interpreted in dance and puppetry.
Translation of the Shakespeare was not without difficulties. The verse about the soldier ‘full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,’ caused problems.
“In Shakespeare’s time most of the military were mercenaries, but in Indonesia being a soldier is an elitist occupation,” said Body. “We had to make some adjustments in the language.
”Many people in the English-speaking world have been taught the Seven Ages of Man and I found Indonesians related well to the sentiments.”
The composers included the Javanese gamelan director Budi Putra (originally from Solo but now a NZ resident) and the Balinese gamelan director I Wayan Gde Yudane. Most of the gamelan players were university students and staff, including Jack Body.
In the wrong hands this could have become a real dog’s breakfast, but in fact it worked brilliantly on every level – emotional, imaginative and creative.
There were several reasons; the inclusion of the masked multi-talented Balinese dalang (puppet master) I Nyoman Sukerta as a musician, singer, dancer and actor, was a masterstroke.
So was a lighting system that included a haze machine, recreating in the Wellington timber studio the misty, musty, dusty, mysterious, spooky, smoky and almost tangible atmosphere found in villages and kampongs of Indonesia come nightfall. The only thing absent was the scent of clove cigarettes, for NZ takes its anti-smoking laws seriously.
“The reception has been great,” said the exuberant ethnomusicologist. “I love this synthesis – I’ve long wanted to use dance and now I’ve got the theater bug. We’re hoping to take the production on tour around NZ, maybe even to Indonesia. That would be terrific.”
(First published in The Jakarta Post 11 November 2008)
##
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