FAILING THE PUB TEST

Beware – different strokes for different folks                                            

Two crimes:  One involving the death of a policeman, the other a failed attempt at drug smuggling.

One criminal gets life – the other four years.  Though not the ones you think.

It jars, or as they say Down Under, it doesn’t pass the pub test.

Australian Sara Connor, 49, is now back with her two sons in her New South Wales homeland town of Byron Bay.

She spent four years behind bars for her role in the killing of an Indonesian policeman Wayan Sudarsa.  He died on Kuta beach in 2016 with 42 wounds to his head and body.  Police said he’d been bashed with a beer bottle. 

There were no independent witnesses so all evidence in the tragic and ugly case comes from Connor (who denied involvement) and her British boyfriend David Taylor.  He got six years for the death and is still in prison.

The couple claimed they were drinking beer when Connor lost her handbag.  For some reason there was a fight with the Bali cop. They were originally charged with murder and faced the maximum penalty of 15 years in jail.

That’s the time already spent behind bars by Martin Stephens, 44, one of the Bali Nine drug runners now serving a life sentence for trying to smuggle drugs to Australia through Ngurah Rai airport.  He didn’t hurt anyone.

He fears he’ll die inside the Lowokwaru jail in Malang, East Java, unless President Joko Widodo orders clemency. Nine years ago he married Indonesian Christine Winarni Puspayanti.  They met when she was visiting as a part of a church group.

Stephens claims he can do more good in the community warning of the dangers of drugs than being held as an example of the Indonesian government’s war on narcotics.

Connor and Stephens stories are stark examples of different laws and cultures.  Depending on the state, killing a police officer in Australia could result in a mandatory life sentence.   A drug mule not involved in the planning would likely get under ten years with half spent on probation.

As the Australian Embassy tells visitors: ‘You're subject to all local laws and penalties, including those that may appear harsh by Australian standards.’

 “I did wrong,” Stephens  said.  “It was my big mistake.  I’m asking for a second chance. I’d never been convicted before of any crime.

“My wife and daughter are struggling. My parents in Australia are doing it hard because of me.  I want to care for them.  Why should they keep paying for my first fault? What’s served by keeping me behind bars?  I want to be a good citizen and contribute.

”I’m borderline autistic.  That caused problems when I was a kid.  Now I’m more mature.  I’ve learned the hard way.  I got out of my depth. I’ve always taken responsibility for my mistakes.  I’m proud of that.”

Stephens, now 44, was a bartender in Wollongong (NSW) when recruited by the infamous Bali Nine gang attempting to smuggle 8.3 kilograms of heroin worth about AUD 4 million to Sydney through Denpasar’s Ngurah Rai airport.  They were snared in a 2005 joint Indonesian Police and Australian Federal Police (AFP) operation.

A decade later ringleaders Andrew Chan and Myuran Sukumaran were executed by firing squad.  The only woman involved, Renae Lawrence was sentenced to 20 years.  In 2018 she was released and deported. Vietnamese-Australian Tan Duc Thanh Nguyen was given life imprisonment.  He died of stomach cancer in 2018.

Stephens was shifted from Bali’s Kerobokan Jail to Malang with Nguyen in 2014.  At the time it was widely reported the men were sent to East Java because they’d ‘violated prison rules’.

Stephens denies this vigorously: “I asked to be moved to be closer to my wife and apart from the others.  I don’t want to know them.  I wasn’t in their syndicate which made earlier drug runs. I’ve always been known as the Bali Nine black sheep.”

Stephens said he’d reject a prisoner exchange unless compelled:  “I’m much freer here than I would be in an Australian jail, though logically it would be better for my parents. 

“I’m the only white Western Christian among about 3,000 prisoners and I’m treated well.  Malang has different rules.  It’s one hundred per cent better than Kerobokan. 

 “I teach English and play the seruling (traditional bamboo flute) but I haven’t learnt Indonesian.  I want to keep my Australian identity and avoid getting involved in faction fighting.”

Apart from skin sores which are being medicated, Stephens looks physically healthy, striding through crowds of shuffling prisoners like a man with purpose.  He says his family and faith sustain him, though he criticizes church “hypocrites” who promise to help but don’t deliver. 

Although he gets distressed recounting his life he says he’s never contemplated suicide: “That’s not me. I couldn’t do that to my parents.  I love them too much. 

“So many lies have been told about me. No-one sees your struggles – only your errors. Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?”

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First published in Indonesian Expat 6 August 2020: https://indonesiaexpat.biz/featured/beware-different-strokes-for-different-folks/

BLASPHEMY LAW: CURSE OR BLESSING?

Confronting blasphemy Duncan Graham

Indonesia normally makes international news only for terrorist attacks and disasters like landslips, ferry capsizes and aircraft crashes.

Reporting these tragedies tends to eclipse other significant but less startling issues underway in the world’s most populous Islamic country and third largest democracy.

A judicial review now underway has the potential to make this country of 240 million a more liberal society.

Indonesia’s Blasphemy Law is being challenged in the nation’s Constitution Court by Muslim liberals, backed by Protestants and Catholics, under the rubric of the National Alliance for Freedom of Religion and Faith. They claim the legislation is at odds with the Constitution that allows freedom of religion.

The reality is different. Indonesian citizens have to carry ID cards that include the holder’s religion. This must be one of six religions approved by the government – Islam, Catholicism, ‘Christian’ (meaning Protestant), Hinduism, Buddhism and Confucianism.

Those with no religion or who follow another faith you are listed as Muslim by default. Visitor guides warn atheists not to disclose their views in any discussion with locals. Questioning a stranger about their religion is standard in even the most casual encounters.

The Blasphemy Law, passed in 1965, was allegedly designed to keep hotheads under control in a country where religious slurs can rapidly lead to violence, and it’s no dead letter. Here’s one example:

Last year in an East Java jail I met and tried to interview a group of 11 Protestants imprisoned for blasphemy.

The room was crowded, noisy and stiflingly hot. There was no furniture. Visitors had to squat on the floor at the feet of the standing guards.

No surprisingly the chat was not a great success. The nervous few who did agree to talk were reluctant to comment on their situation except in whispers.

That wasn’t the situation outside. Mainstream Christian leaders were keen to denounce the prisoners and staged a major public event to fulsomely apologise for their colleagues’ faults.

Stupidity would have been a better term. The men who’d been arrested and sentenced to jail terms of up to four years had been in a training seminar organised by the Indonesian Student Ministry, also known as Campus Crusade.

This organisation has been running for 50 years, though before this event it was barely known outside the Protestant churches and Christian universities. But this time they made a DVD of their activities. This fell into the hands of a Muslim leader Muhammad Nidzhom Hidayatullah.Nidzhom was the executive secretary of the local branch of the peak Islamic body Majelis Ulama Indonesia (MUI), the Indonesian Muslim Scholars' Council.
The 10-minute video showed about 40 people in a room, most dressed in traditional Muslim clothes – the women wearing headscarves, the men in sarongs and rimless caps. At the front a preacher waved a book that appeared to be a copy of the Koran.At one stage in the proceedings the book was put on the floor. In a grainy and shakily-shot scene the participants formed a ring and condemned the text with angry words and gestures.

Nidzhom is a moderate. Instead of using the video to trigger mob violence he discussed the issue with colleagues and local Protestant leaders, including
Pastor Johan Haryono.

"They (Campus Crusade) have walked too far, gone beyond the boundaries, been too emotional,” said Pastor Haryono."To be an evangelist is to love, but they are committing blasphemy against the Koran. That is evil. I have no idea why they did this."The tragedy is that we've lost the trust of Muslims and this must be retrieved. We have to improve our internal networking so this doesn't happen again."We are grateful to all the Muslim leaders. What they did was very good. They kept the balance." Despite this the police prosecuted and the courts convicted.

But the Blasphemy Law hasn’t just been used against insensitive fringe groups attacking other faiths. In the last two years fundamentalist Muslims calling themselves the Islamic Defenders’ Front (FPI) and claiming to be defenders of the law have been targeting Ahmadiyah. This is an Islamic sect that says Mohammed was not the last prophet.

Ahmadiyah mosques have been firebombed and worshipers assaulted. At one stage they were considering fleeing to Australia to seek asylum from religious persecution.

The present challenge to the legislation was triggered by these attacks, and FPI members violently ambushing a peaceful rally of liberals in central Jakarta. The legal action is being opposed by the Religious Affairs Ministry, which claims any change in the law will create chaos.

Also hostile are radical Islamic groups including the FPI, which has attempted to disrupt hearings. They say dumping the law will lead to Indonesia becoming a secular nation led by ‘neo-liberals’.

Despite some well-reasoned arguments there seems to be little chance that the law will be changed. Although those pushing for a judicial review have mustered an impressive list of authorities, they’ve lost their principal backer, the former president Abdurrahman Wahid, also known as Gus Dur.

A leading Islamic scholar and one-time head of the 40-million strong Islamic organisation Nahdlatul Ulama, Gus Dur was a noted liberal and supporter of pluralism. He died last December after being sick for many years.

Even if the Blasphemy Law was dumped or modified its unlikely that this would have an immediate impact on society. There’s a long history of individuals ignoring laws they don’t like, and that includes public servants.

The addition of Confucianism to the list of Indonesia’s approved religions only occurred in 2000 when Gus Dur was president. But ethnic Chinese complain that local officials still refuse to acknowledge the change.

(First published in On Line Opinion Monday 22 March 2010)

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DIANA INA, SATPOL BOSS

KEEPING MALANG MORALLY CLEAN © Duncan Graham 2007

You've probably seen them on TV news, big burly blokes pouring out of pick-ups and getting stuck into petty lawbreakers.

The villains – often rural folk seeking city fortunes - have usually built shanties on riverbanks, railway reserves or other public open space. They're tolerated for a while till someone important reckons the huts are an eyesore, or because the land is wanted for development.

Then the heavies are sent in to rip down the plastic and push over the flimsy dwellings. In these set-piece dramas the distraught locals protest furiously, but the boys in khaki keep smashing.

These upholders of authority are the Satpol (Satuan Polisi) a term probably best translated as public order officers.

They're employed to protect state property and uphold regency regulations, and they're not always the most popular guys in town. Theirs looks like a tough task, not something you'd expect a woman to do in a culture where many jobs are considered gender specific.

Now meet Diana Ina who isn't just one of the mayor's militia in Malang. She's the boss of his 260-man hit squad and the only woman in charge of Satpol anywhere in East Java – maybe in Indonesia. Only four staffers are women – and they have office duties.

"It's the sort of job where a woman needs the full support of her family," Diana said. "Unfortunately that's rare. I'm lucky – I do have the backing and understanding of my husband and children. I'm on call 24-hours a day and I'm often out with the patrols.

"Sometime I think that the problem with women getting top jobs in the public service or in private industry isn't always because of oppression by men.

"Often it's the women themselves showing no ambition, saying: 'I'm just a housewife.'

"They should be making greater efforts to get a proper education and training. We can do anything – but we must be capable."

Diana started work in the East Java Governor's office after graduating in public administration from Malang's Brawijaya University.

Twenty years later after holding a number of positions and proving her efficiency and effectiveness as the head of a district – particularly in handling aggressive Madurese traders who were defying local edicts - she got the chance to take the top Satpol job.

Now aged 50 she's had the hot seat for three years. It carries the rank of Commander, which is similar to Lieutenant Colonel in the police force.

Satpol agents generally don't carry firearms. They do however wield sticks and batons for crowd control and self-protection. They don't handle traffic – that's a police responsibility.

"Most of the time we're trying to enforce regulations and by laws," she said. "We also back-up the police at demonstrations or football matches when fans get unruly.

"Violence in public and peace in the kampong is one of the contradiction of Indonesian culture. When men are together in a mob and get provoked they can be brutal.

"Yet back in their home localities, and among family and neighbors, they behave quite differently. They are polite and respectful."

Though not always to authority. Respect isn't high for either the police or Satpol. Ignorance of the law is not accepted as an excuse, but the problem is made more difficult because many don't see it as their responsibility to keep track of legislation. The poor have other concerns.

There's also some confusion over which government department has the job of ensuring the people most affected are up-to-date on regulations.

So a two-month grace is imposed between a new law coming into effect, and the Satpol moving in.

Diana said she stressed to her staff the need for fairness when dealing with offenders. She said women had better 'people-skills' but few were attracted into working as law enforcement officers.

She agreed that part of the problem might be image. Unlike the tight and slinky uniforms worn by women police, Satpol use big black boots, baggy pants, shapeless shirts and unflattering berets. Great gear for kicking down doors and turning out squatters, but not to turn heads.

"Uniforms are being reviewed, and on some days I wear a skirt," she said. "But there are many other priorities. One of the most important is to review penalties.

"When we prosecute people who break building codes and don't get the right permission the fine is only Rp 50,000 (US $5.50). That might have been a significant amount 30 years ago (when it was about US $25) – but not today.

"So some try their luck and go ahead with their business without permission. If they're caught they just pay the fine. It doesn't bother them."

Is corruption an issue? "Hopefully no bribes are being taken by my staff. I stress that they must be honest and earn the respect of the public."

Have you ever been assaulted? "No. There have been many confrontations and threats but I've never been hit. Many of my staff have been hit. I tell them not to be aggressive, to try and understand human nature."

Do you have problems leading a male workforce? "Some were resentful at first. I follow an open management style. We have to work together and go ahead together. I need them and they need me."

Don't you feel compassion for poor people who are just trying to live, who don't have a job or enough money to rent or buy a house? "Yes, of course. But the law is the law and must be upheld. That's my job."

In her Malang headquarters the effectiveness of Satpol is everywhere on display. One office has been taken up with confiscated banners and produce sold illegally. Outside are rows of food stalls and kaki lima, food carts that have been seized.

Beggars are also picked up and sent back to their hometowns, or passed on to the Social Welfare Department.

The TV voyeurs' crime show delight is the sight of Satpol officers raiding brothels and herding squealing girls into vans. Diana claimed that prostitution in Malang – a city of almost one million people – had ceased on her watch.

"We want Malang to be a morally clean city," she said. "If I hear of kos bebas (boarding houses used by men and women) I'll close them down.

"The problem in Malang is drugs. This is an education city with young people from all parts of Indonesia studying in the local universities. We need information from the public to keep us informed of drug deals and dealers and alert the police.

"Unfortunately we don't yet have a free contact phone line. People often say they wanted to call us but didn't have the money. I hope this problem will be fixed."

Your advice to women? "Let's struggle together to show we can do anything – even jobs that are traditionally seen as men's work. We can have careers and maintain our home responsibilities. Don't be afraid to try."

(First published in The Jakarta Post 24 March 07)

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