GETTING AWAY WITH GASSING GAME

     Indonesia’s untouchables stay that way

 

The outcome of a massive police-caused tragedy on Indonesia’s Java Island  got less media coverage than a silly white woman’s argument with a brown cop in Bali.

 

The ‘lady’ didn’t like being stopped for riding a motorbike bare-headed, though no helmet law is needed for  Indonesian traffic - just a want to live.  A story not worth a spit in the Kuta sand though some reckon - with no proof - that foreigners get targeted for shake-downs. 

 

There are alarming police yarns worth reporting from the nation next door, though they need more than a cut n’ paste grab from social media. Police corruption and violence are democracy-threatening issues though not in this case.

 

The policeman didn’t gun down the blockhead while muttering racist curses or kneel on her neck. That would have been news, for Indonesia is not the US.

 

Meanwhile, 300 km to the west was a story worth splashing: An astonishingly flawed court verdict revealing protectors as untouchables, ripping-raw the scabs of  135 families, turning their grief to fury.  

 

That’s the number of victims crushed to death in a crowd stampede at Malang’s Kanjuruhan soccer stadium on 1 October last year. More than half were under 19 and included 42 women. More than 580 were injured.

 

It was the second deadliest disaster in the history of international association football yet seems to have been sunk by subs. In 1964 a similar event in Peru took 328 lives. In both cases, the root cause was disorderly police firing tear gas.

 

The Fédération Internationale de Football Association’s Stadium Safety and Security Regulations are clear: ‘No firearms or crowd control gas shall be carried or used.’ Indonesia’s been a FIFA member since 1952.

 

Three days after the deaths nine officers were dismissed or whisked off to desk jobs in Jakarta. President Joko ‘Jokowi’ Widodo, who’s responsible for the force, ordered the East Java Police chief to be replaced by Inspector General Teddy Minahasa Putra. He lasted only four days before being arrested on charges of trafficking five kilos of crystal meth.

 

Jokowi visited the stadium smothered in angry graffiti referencing ‘pigs’, met soccer officials, ordered the stands built in 1997 destroyed and rebuilt, then told Reuters: ‘We agreed to thoroughly transform Indonesian soccer. Every aspect of preparation...needs to be based on FIFA standards.’ 

 

Although overcrowding of the 42,450-seat stadium was a factor, the key issue was police crowd-control tactics: Gas = panic = deaths. This awkward equation was booted aside by focusing on the facilities.

 

Compensation to the victims’ families has reportedly been paid - the equivalent of AUD 1,000 for a death, and 500 for an injury.

 

Inquiries were opened and trials started in the East Java capital Surabaya. These concluded while Australian attention was focused on a trite event in a Bali street.

 

Six policemen and security officials involved in the Kanjuruhan catastrophe were charged. One cop has been jailed for 18 months, one game official to the same time, and another to one year. The others were acquitted for ‘lack of evidence’. This is despite scores of videos shot from multiple angles showing gas grenades fired into the stands, and eye-witness accounts.

 

‘The police officers who were prosecuted were only the actors in the field’, said Andi Rezaldy of  the Indonesian Commission for Missing Persons and Victims of Violence (Kontras), which has posted a string of alleged irregularities in the trial.

 

Amnesty International Indonesia’s Usman Hamid added: ‘The authorities are once again failing to provide justice to victims of excessive force in Indonesia, despite vows in the aftermath of the disaster to hold those responsible to account. 

 

‘There’s a deeply entrenched and broad pattern of violence and abuse of power by Indonesian security forces.’ 

 

A separate but germane case involved Ferdy Sambo, former head of Indonesia’s Police Internal Affairs department. Last month he was sentenced to death for the 2022 murder of his aide-de-camp Nofriansyah Yosua Hutabarat, 27, in the two-star general’s house. 

 

Judge Wahyu Imam Santoso said Sambo had ordered a bodyguard to shoot Hutabarat before donning gloves, firing more shots into the victim and then wiping all CCTV footage.

 

In court Sambo alleged his wife Putri Candrawathi (who got 20 years)  had been sexually assaulted by the victim. The judge rejected this claim: ‘The defendant embarrassed Indonesia’s police force both at home and internationally, and involved other members of the police force in his crime.’ These totaled 97.

 

We still don’t know the motive though claims made during proceedings allege ‘Kaiser Sambo’ headed an online gambling consortium and someone was about to blow a whistle. Sambo is unlikely to be executed;  his mates who tried to disrupt the trial will ensure that never happens.

 

Where’s the link between Kanjuruhan and the Sambo cases? ‘They speak to the sheer depth of police impunity,’ commented Melbourne University’s Dr Jacqui Baker in a scathing condemnation of the relationship between police and political elites.

 

Her accessible paper should be pre-departure reading for anyone planning an investment or long stay requiring police approval, and included in DFAT travel warnings.  She writes: 

 

‘Police impunity is the prize in a long-standing pact with political elites who have no interest in an accountable law enforcement system that upholds a democratic rule of law. 

 

‘Why would they? A corrupt police force is the perfect accompaniment to the existing corrupt political party system, an easily harnessed instrument to silence critics, repress opposition, shut down rival party slush funds and bring potential challengers into the fold.’ 

 

Filling copy space with a yawn about a minor traffic breach in Bali when there are great wrongs in Indonesian law enforcement erodes a profession that used to be about holding wrongdoers to account.

 

‘The chances of eradicating corruption among police is slim without a push from civil society,’ wrote Indonesian law lecturer Fachrizal Afandi. That sounds like a job for journos who believe international exposure and shaming brings reform.

 

But hey, it’s easier filching social media trash than reporting our neighbour’s defects seriously.

 

 First published in Pearls & Irritations, 24 March 2023: 

https://johnmenadue.com/indonesias-untouchables-stay-that-way/

 

 

 

 

 

 

SOCCER MAD

Letting their hair down  

                                                     

Malang has long been soccer mad, but yesterday [Sun 19 Mar] the East Java city went even loopier.

A week ago Arema FC won the 2017 President’s Cup beating Pusamania Borneo 5-1 in the final round so the 30-year old club had a victory worth celebrating.

Tens of thousands of supporters known as Singo Edan (Crazy Lions) lined the streets around the railway station and the town hall to see their heroes while waving some ambiguous banners: Did they mean being unique or being ostracized with the slogan – ‘no one like us’?

It didn’t matter because the crowd was good natured and in party mood.  The police had little to do other than back the volunteer marshals who kept the traffic moving.

A group of blind people held a notice saying even though they are sightless they still back Arema.

Before a lion dance the performers’ whips and costumes were purified in incense smoke – a local ritual predating soccer’s arrival in Indonesia from Europe in the 1930s.

(Pix by Erlinawati Graham)

THE WORD ACCORDING TO TIMO

A coach driven to frustration                                   

Last Saturday (31 Jan) Australia, with one tenth of Indonesia’s population, won the Asian Cup.  The Republic failed to qualify.  Duncan Graham got a coach’s view on the sad state of football in the Archipelago.

Timo Scheunemann has a missionary’s zeal to spread the word.

He’s already written a bible and now just needs disciples.  Though many harken his words, true believers are rare.

So far only a few have discarded their divisive ways to follow him into a new vision of the game where rewards are measured on values beyond money, and where  national pride will be founded on results, not rhetoric.

“What else can I do?” he asked. “I’ve even made a video for those who can’t be bothered to read.  I’m banging my head against a wall.”

Which is an inappropriate exercise for a man who’s been intimate with agony, and knows well how the body can react to misuse.   

Better to head the ball, for Scheunemann, nationally known as Coach Timo through his books, lectures, film appearances and television commentaries believes that football is more than just booting leather at a seven yard gap between two posts.

“It’s also about integrity, morality and building character, knowing what’s right and wrong,” he said.

“It’s working with others for a common goal, finding self, gaining maturity, exercising discipline and self control. It should be about love of the game, not money.

“The question everyone asks is this:  How come a nation of 240 million can’t find eleven players to take Indonesia into the World Cup?

“The answer is that there’s never been a totally realistic approach to ensuring the betterment of football.  The game faces a forest of problems, with every tree a different issue from politics, to administration, to funding and more.

“It’s not for want of talent.  We have amazing kids everywhere.  Of course we need government money, but that should be for pitches, not clubs.

“The first line in football’s mental revolution is to recognize the need for coaches – about 400 as a start.  That’s understood in Germany, Japan and South Korea, though not here. 

“My ideas have been dismissed by senior politicians saying ‘games are won by players, not coaches’ – but it’s the coaches that make the players.” 

At this point it’s worth saying a little about Coach Timo’s credentials before the outraged Twitterati starts a campaign to kick this wise guy right back to where he came from.

Which is the hilltown Batu [“thick with soccer atmosphere”],  20 kilometers from his present home in Malang, although he was born in Kediri, about 60 kilometers distant.  That East Java pedigree should red card the critics.

He didn’t go to Germany, the homeland of his missionary parents, until he was 15 and where he was ridiculed for his funny accent and lack of vocabulary.

Only his ability at football assisted with his assimilation, for his older brothers were soccer crazy and their little sibling, who’s now 1.9 meters tall, was determined to reach their standards,

After two years and faced with conscription if he stayed, he was back in Indonesia where his language skills were admired – for Coach Timo is fluent in Indonesian and Javanese – “a Mercedes on the outside, but a Kijang inside.”

His self-taught English was good enough for integration into American society when he won a sports scholarship to play and study at The Master’s College in Santa Clarita, California.

After graduating in world history and philosophy he looked set for a future in football, playing in the Indonesian and Singapore leagues as a striker and offensive midfielder.  A stellar career loomed when he was tested by The Gills, an English League One team.

Suddenly the rocket man crashed on the launch pad when team doctors discovered a dodgy knee.

“I was heartbroken,” he recalled.  “It was devastating.  My future as a player was finished. I’d got the injury from running on asphalt when younger.  I didn’t have a good coach to warn me and ensure I stretched after games. [He later suffered crippling back pain and underwent  surgery.]

“Had I passed the medical I might have stayed in Europe.  I wouldn’t have returned to Indonesia, started teaching at an international school, married Devi and fathered two children. 

“Nor would I have this new career as a coach.  Everything happens for a reason - it’s just hard at times to know what it is.”

Apart from appearing in the 2013 film Soekarno as the Dutch Colonel Hoogeband, he’s also played himself in the 2011 movie Tendangan dari langit [Kick from the Sky].  The drama, conceived by Timo, tells of 16-year old Wahyu who gets talent spotted but faces great odds to succeed.

When he’s not coaching kids, both boys and girls, Timo, now 41, spends his time on schemes to get Indonesian football respected and applauded.

His fifth book Ayo Indonesia! [Come on, Indonesia!] published last year by Gramedia along with a video, offers  a curriculum and primer for Indonesian football.  Its 300 plus pages are chocker with charts and strategies making it more like a chess manual or battle plan.

On the office wall of the family’s splendid Java-themed house alongside a mini soccer pitch, is a large map of Indonesia.  This has been divided into regions where Timo thinks football academies are essential.  A businessman in Kalimantan is already backing his idea; others are said to be jogging on the touchline.

The other need is for a coach college.  Timo, who got his licence in Germany, said bad coaches do more harm than good.

“A national licensing system has to be developed through the Asian Football Confederation,” he said.

“There are projects here and there but no coordination, no system. Why keep going?  My Dad always told me that we’re here to give, not take.

“My insane dream is to get our team into the World Cup.  That’s only impossible until it’s done. This would be practical nationalism.”

##

(First published in The Jakarta Post Sunday 8 February 2015)

AREMA'S MIROSLAV JANU

I'M LOSING IT MY WAY © Duncan Graham 2007

The photo on this page shows the face of the most despised and condemned man in central East Java. The street graffiti that demands his head is too obscene to report in this newspaper. So are the acid comments in cafes, minibuses and queues in government offices. The newspaper headlines are only slightly less unkind.

Czech Miroslav Janu is not a terrorist and bears no ill will towards Indonesia. He's a reasonable guy though understandably wary, with no apparent political or religious agenda. His crime is far more basic.

He's a loser. Or rather the Premier League football club he coaches has been losing and in Malang that's a gross and unforgivable sin.

Janu was hired to maintain the glory of Arema Malang. For the past two years the club has won the Copa Indonesia trophy under coach Benny Dollo, to become famous throughout the archipelago.

But Dollo has moved west to Tangerang and Janu, 48, has been presiding over Arema's crash and burn. In its last 12 games it has won 3, drawn three and lost six. It now ranks an inauspicious 13 in the Eastern Indonesia section of the national league.

Last week (Thur 5 April) Arema beat Solo in a minor match so the pressure has eased just a millibar or two.

"I don't want to leave, I want to stay till my contract ends in December," an agitated Janu told The Jakarta Post.

"When you win you have many friends – when you lose you're alone. People always blame the coach, not the players. I'll only go if they kick me out. This isn't about money – I have enough. Football has been good to me. This is about prestige.

"My wife was coming to join me next month, but I've told her to hold off and not by the ticket yet. Wait and see."

Arema backers are known as the nation's most fanatical. Last year the Football Association of Indonesia awarded them the title of the Best Indonesian Football Supporters.

This is clearly a new definition of 'best'. It certainly doesn't mean respectful and orderly. Arema are the original take-no-prisoners fans, and when they're on the road (every one seems to have a motorbike without a muffler) the wise steer into the nearest paddy field. Better confront the mud than the mad.

Their other name is Singo Edan, which translates as Crazy Lions. It's an apt title for the Aremaniacs.

"The supporters are a big problem," Janu said. He's been in soccer as a professional for 31 years, the past ten as a coach.

"I coached in Sabah for four years and for more than a year in Makassar, but I've never seen fans like this.

"And the media is sensational and so negative. They criticize me but some journalists don't understand the game. I say to them: 'Tell me something I don't know.'

"I'm not critical of Indonesia. I like this country. Please write a positive story."

Not so easy. Since the season started this year Arema has played in Korea, Japan, Papua and Yogyakarta – and in East Java – with anything but glory.

There are as many reasons as the warung (roadside eatery) wisemen who couldn't do up their own laces, let alone boot a ball. But this is Janu's story so he can tell it his way. First some career details:

Janu started playing when he was 17 with first division team SK Slovia Praha (Prague). He quit the field in his 30s and spent two years training to be a coach. Then he worked in his homeland, in Austria and Southeast Asia.

"When I took over Arema I didn't inherit the team that's been winning," he said. "About 30 per cent had gone to other clubs. Where do you go about finding good players, quality players in a short time?

"I don't think it's wise to import from Europe – the cultural differences are too great.

"It was just two weeks after I had a team with 13 new players (there's that number again) when the season started. That's not enough time to train and get everyone working together. If the players are young, that's OK, but others have to be flexible and settle in.

"Then there's the match schedule. We've had to play on Wednesdays, travel for two days, and then play again on the Sunday. That hasn't given us enough time to do anything more than a bit of jogging and stretching.

"Nobody likes playing like this. In Japan and Europe fixtures are usually a week apart. But these are the rules.

"Then we've had injuries, with one key player getting a broken leg."

What about the quality of the players?

"I try every day to work one-hundred per cent. I want my players to have the same standards, to improve. I tell them they must have discipline and practise, practise. This is a different job to anything else.

"When things go wrong they can't blame others. They must look at themselves first and ask: 'What mistakes have I made?' They must respect each other and respect the coach.

"Some have difficulty playing as a team. They have too much ego. This is a problem in Indonesia.

"They can't take the money as professionals, and then play like amateurs – this is the point. About 60 per cent get more money than me on their contracts.

"That's not an issue for me – I've got everything I want, home and family in Prague. Football has been good to me.

"I don't think there are communication problems with the players. (Janu speaks Indonesian). I talk to them face-to-face. And no problems with cultural differences – I've worked in Malaysia where the fans are more sophisticated. Maybe the problem here is that there are so few other sports to support."

Is he concerned that he might get assaulted by crazed zealots, or meet the same fate as Pakistan cricket coach Bob Woolmer who was murdered in Jamaica after his team lost to Ireland in the World Cup?

Janu said no, then maybe, then chuckled nervously. He admitted it was the worse time in his career. He has no bodyguards and the hotel he lives in has no security checks.

Although Janu said he was sleeping well, unworried about events and concerned only with tactics, his body language gave a different story. When questioned about his yawning and fidgeting he said he would be behaving the same if Arema was winning.

That's a claim that can't be tested.

(sidebar)

MULTICULTURAL SOCCER

Arema is a soup word made up of the ingredients Arek (teenager) and Malang. It also refers to a 13th century Javanese alleged hero Kebo Arema. He was apparently a court official with no claim to footy fame.

Local fans say they are not bonek (bondo nekat – penniless soccer hooligans who bum rides to matches and trash facilities). They say the offenders come from Surabaya.

And in Surabaya they say they come from Malang.

Arema was formed in 1987. It had a rocky time financially and on the field until taken over in 2003 by the tobacco company Bentoel when serious money started to be used. The budget this year is a reported Rp 20 billion (US $2.2 million).

This gave the club the necessary kick-start and the cash to buy talent. One year later Arema became division one champions in the national league.

The club is a member of the Asian Champion League and also plays in the first division nationally. It has a 25-man squad including 3 players from Cameroon and one each from Brazil, Liberia and Chile.

Unlike most clubs in Indonesia Arema claims it gets no government backing. Jakarta recently ordered regional administrations to stop funding football; some local authorities had been using welfare budgets to pay players.

A looming problem is future sponsorship, with health authorities claiming tobacco's links with sport will have to be severed as they have in other countries. Legislation to do just this is soon to be debated in the national parliament.

(First published in The Jakarta Post 9 April 07)
##
">Link