GRACE PAMUNGKAS

Treating history with grace Duncan Graham

Grace Pamungkas got fed up working for the government.

As an architect with social justice ideals she became frustrated when called on to research public housing and restoration projects, and prepare budgets.

“When the money was allocated we got only 30 to 50 per cent to do the job,” she said. “The rest went elsewhere – who knows?

“I realised I wasn’t suited to working for government departments. I wanted to make a difference, and it was clear that many public servants were not servants of the public. They were just concerned with money. It was time to move.”

This wasn’t her only bad experience with the bureaucracy. The next lesson was about cultural imperialism and it didn’t come from a textbook.

After graduating in architecture from the University of Indonesia she went to Flores with UI staff. Her job was to assist planning the rehousing of people who’d lost their homes in the 1992 tsunami that followed a 7.8 magnitude offshore earthquake.

The army was responsible for providing temporary housing, which inevitably became permanent. But many homes were left unoccupied.

“The planners were from Java and looked at the project as though the homeless were farmers,” Ms Pamungkas said. “But these were fishers, people of the sea and the houses provided were not suitable. The locals weren’t consulted, or if they were their views weren’t heard.”

Back in Jakarta she took to walking to university and work and rapidly discovered a world invisible from the tinted windows of limousines. City poor are not so obvious as those in the villages. They live in kampong burrows, packed tight, squashed into airless and unsanitary low roofed, flimsy-walled rooms, or squat in old industrial buildings abandoned by their owners.

The gap between the wong kecil, the ordinary folk, and the rich was far wider than the multilane freeways that separated their homes.

“I was concerned about public housing for the poor,” she said. “I came across the gemstone workers who live alongside the railway tracks in Jakarta and learned about their lives in a very historical area. It was just a coincidence.

“The rich can pay to build what they want where they want. But the poor have to wait for government housing and this isn’t a good standard.”

But not all the rich are indifferent to history. With noted historian and Jesuit priest Adolf Heuken, who she met at a seminar, Ms Pamungkas was commissioned by Jakarta businesswoman Susilawati to research Galangan Kapal Batavia.

This was the 300-year old Vereenigde Oost-Indische Compagnie (VOC – the United East India Company) shipyard on the banks of the river Kali Besar. Like many Dutch era buildings it had been used as a warehouse. Despite a study construction its ill-maintained timbers had rotted and brickwork fretted.

The building has now been renovated to become the VOC – the Very Old Café. Father Adolf and Ms Pamungkas had their work published as a book, complete with quaint and ancient drawings of a busy waterway full of swans alongside wide paddocks with prancing horses – areas now densely packed with houses and markets.

The pair then went on to another book, this time on buildings in the swish suburb of Menteng.

As the child of a Dutch Reformed Church pastor helping build schools for the needy Ms Pamungkas, 39, had the benefit of living in many parts of the archipelago - and the disadvantage of having nowhere to call home.

Though born in Bandung she spent only three years in the West Java city before moving to Riau. Then it was off to Sulawesi, Sumatra again and back to Java. Although good at art and design she chose to study architecture because it offered practical opportunities, though she found her natural talents in research.

Which is what Ms Pamungkas is doing at Victoria University in Wellington, New Zealand. While improving her English she’s investigating floating eco-houses, an idea pioneered in the Netherlands to cope with flooding.

Next year she hopes to take up a scholarship so that she can study the preservation and conservation of old buildings. To fund her studies she and her graphic artist husband Enrico Halim sold their house in Jakarta.

Her thesis, which is still under review, will look at the way the Dutch imposed their building styles and town planning on Jakarta. When the walled city proved unsuitable the colonialists had to reset their attitudes to suit the tropics, borrowing from local wisdom.

She will compare the situation in her homeland with the way the British took their architecture to rugged earthquake-prone Wellington, which is reputed to be the world’s windiest city.

The newcomers had to rapidly modify their attitudes, learning from the Maori who built to survive a harsh climate, not hang on to hard-set ideas imported from another continent.

“When I get back to Indonesia, hopefully with a Western education, I plan to teach the importance of saving our past,” she said.

“The new generation doesn’t harbor hatreds against the Dutch and are more inclined to respect historical buildings.

“History education in Indonesian schools has just been a memorising of dates and places. Studying history has meant meeting an obligation to fill marks. Sadly it’s not part of our culture now to respect our ancestors, though I suspect it was different in the past.

“Look at the way we demolished the house where (first president) Soekarno read the proclamation on Indonesian independence. Elsewhere in the world that would be a nationally important part of our heritage.

“Jakarta is a coastal city but we don’t care for our rivers and the sea. They’re just used as trash bins, bad places for poor people to live. I want to see a return to our respect for water, as we had in the past, to resurrect the beliefs of our ancestors.

“Cultural tourism is a significant business elsewhere in the world. The Dutch made a big effort, importing, for example, tiles from Czechoslovakia to beautify their buildings.

“If we could preserve and renovate some of the old buildings in Kota we could sell our city to the world, maybe rivalling Singapore in attracting visitors. What happened in the past is valuable for our future.”

(First published in The Jakarta Post 30 June 2010)
##

REMEMBERING BALIBO

The pain that won’t go away Duncan Graham

Far, far away, Indonesia continues to get a bad press. Not just because of corruption, smoking toddlers and women having to wear long skirts in Aceh, but because of a tragedy in 1975.

At an outdoor memorial service in New Zealand for Gary Cunningham, the young Kiwi cameraman who was shot in East Timor 35 years ago, an Indonesian citizen privately offering apologies and sympathy approached his aunt, Pat McGregor (pictured above.) Indonesian Embassy diplomats and NZ government representatives were not present.

“There’s no need to apologise,” Mrs McGregor said as spokesperson for the Cunningham family. “It was not the fault of the Indonesian people. I was bitter at first, but I’ve got over that. However I’d still like those two involved brought to justice.”

(She was referring to former Special Forces officers Yunus Yosfiah and Christoforus da Silva who are alleged to have ordered the killings.)

On 16 October 1975 Indonesian troops invading East Timor (now Timor Leste) shot Cunningham and four other foreign journalists in the village of Balibo despite a sign on their house wall saying the reporters were from Australia. Although two were British, two were from Australia and one from NZ, all were working for Australian TV channels.

The men became known as the Balibo Five and failure to find those responsible for their deaths has been a running sore in Indonesian- Australian and NZ relationships ever since.

Balibo, an Australian feature film about the incident released last year has been banned in Indonesia, despite protests by Indonesian journalists. It was going to be shown at the Jakarta International Film Festival last December.

The film, based on books about the event and an Australian coronial inquest, claimed the men were deliberately killed because their reports would have revealed news of the secret invasion into what was still a Portuguese colony.

The Indonesian government has long claimed the matter is closed, arguing that screening the film would open conflict between Indonesia and Australia. However there was a surprise development last December when retired colonel Gatot Purwanto confessed that the men had been ‘executed’.

The Australian government has started a war crimes commission investigation into the killings – the fifth inquiry into the tragedy

Gary Cunningham, who was born in Wellington in 1947, moved to commercial TV in Australia after working for the NZ Broadcasting Corporation.

Late last month (May) about 50 people gathered in the rain on a hillside above Wellington to remember Gary and his colleagues, speak of the tragedy, condemn the Australian and NZ governments for not confronting Indonesia, and unveil a memorial bench covered with a Timorese ikat (traditional woven cloth).

Tim Pankhurst, secretary of the Media Freedom Committee, and chief executive of the Newspaper Publishers’ Association said it was important to remember that journalists faced danger when reporting wars, and needed support and protection.

So far this year 13 journalists have been killed on the job, the latest an Italian reporter in Bangkok. Last year 71 died.

Mr Pankhurst said fear of offending Indonesia had been behind past governments failing to pursue the issue. He called on the NZ government “to show similar courage and commitment” to Australia in chasing the facts.

Media professionals and human rights activists have continued to press Indonesia to prosecute those responsible for the shootings. Indonesia has continued to claim that the men were accidentally shot during a firefight between the Indonesian military and Fretilin militia.

Fretilin was the socialist resistance group, the Revolutionary Front for an Independent East Timor.

The journalists’ bodies were burned and some remains buried in Jakarta, though there are doubts that the ashes are those of the men. The men’s relatives were not allowed to fly to Indonesia for the funeral and could only attend a memorial service in Melbourne. Cunningham family members were not able to visit Timor Leste till 2003.

Mrs McGregor said support for the memorial had come from the Media Freedom Committee and the Indonesia Human Rights’ Committee (IHRC) a NZ organisation that has long been campaigning for justice for the Balibo Five.

Gary’s brother Greig Cunningham said many people were unaware that journalists put their lives at risk so viewers could get the news in the comfort of their homes.

East Timor had been a Portuguese colony for more than 200 years. When Portugal began to relinquish control in 1975 many nations, including Australia and the US, feared Communists might take control of an independent nation. After seizing control Indonesia made the little country its 27th province.

For the next 24 years fighting between Indonesian troops and East Timorese guerrillas took the lives of an estimated 100,000, Timorese and Indonesians, through warfare, starvation and disease.

In a 1999 referendum the people voted four to one to become an independent nation. Since then NZ troops have been part of the international peacekeeping force in Timor Leste.

Mrs McGregor said the news of her nephew’s death came on her silver wedding anniversary. At first the family was told Gary had died in crossfire, but later heard rumors that the journalists had been killed in cold blood.

“It was a great shock to us all,” she said. “Gary had worked in Vietnam during the war and knew the risks. He wouldn’t have done anything foolish. The government wouldn’t tell us what had happened.

“It’s important to honor him, even after all these years. We all feel just a little bit better now. Gary gave his life in the pursuit of truth.”

##

KONFRONTASI- A WAR FEW WANTED

A war few wanted

Voices from a Border War
Robert Gurr
Wilson Scott Publishing

We all know smoking kills, though it usually takes years of inhaling toxins before the heart shudders to a halt or cancer triumphs.

But back in 1963, lighting up in the jungle during Soekarno’s Konfrontasi offensive against newborn Malaysia could have meant death was just seconds away.

That’s because the Indonesian soldiers continued smoking kretek (clove) cigarettes while trying to infiltrate Sarawak and Sabah, giving away their locations to the keen-nosed troops tracking them, according to these accounts from the men who were there.

It was a lesson learned too late, indicating not just a lack of authority but also that the Indonesian army, which was largely using irregular militia, didn’t really have its heart in the job.

It’s widely believed that the Ganyang Malaysia (Crush Malaysia) campaign had been launched for domestic political purposes, diverting attention from economic problems.

Soekarno had earlier been indifferent to Britain giving its colony independence. Then he changed his mind and started arguing that Malaysia was destined to become a puppet state. Konfrontasi ended quietly after Soeharto became president.

The four-year undeclared war cost Indonesia 590 lives. More than 770 men were taken prisoner. By contrast the British Commonwealth forces supporting the Malaysian federation lost 114, most of them Gurkhas.

Australian and New Zealand troops were involved and took the opportunity to refine their jungle warfare techniques. These were later applied in Vietnam – though not always by US forces who seemed not to have learned the importance of stealth and discipline, radios off, hand signals only, no after-shave and no smoking.

The Viet Cong did not make the same mistakes.

Also important was winning the hearts and minds of the locals. The phrase has now been corrupted by cynicism but in the Borneo border fighting it had real meaning.

Without the help of the ferocious Dyaks known as Iban, and who were often hostile to the Indonesians and enjoyed collecting their heads, the Commonwealth forces would have been floundering in the swamps and lost in the dense tropical forests.

The Iban had families on both sides of the border so could move around easily, though not always safely. They were used in psychological warfare, taking false messages to the Indonesian military, such as warning them to beware of minefields that didn’t exist.

The egalitarian Ozzies and Kiwis respected the Iban culture, paid the people to work, gave them medical supplies and won their loyalty. By contrast the Indonesian militia were reportedly brutal.

Brigadier Robert Gurr was head of the 1st Battalion Royal NZ Infantry Regiment fighting in Borneo and in this book he’s collected the stories of the men he commanded. There are only a few minor attempts at balance – these are the accounts of the victors.

That doesn’t mean they’re non-stop Boy’s Own Annual yarns of gallantry and smart soldiering. There are plenty of tales of stuff-ups and incompetence. Some of the worst casualties on the Malaysian side were not inflicted by Indonesians but by helicopter accidents.

Other problems included communication systems failing and mistakes in translation. There’s also humor. A commander about to evacuate a limping soldier found the man had put his boots on the wrong feet in his rush to withdraw.

One Kiwi in the midst of an ambush was surprised to hear the Indonesians calling out in English: ‘Come and get it British!’

“At such times life becomes like a slow-motion movie,” the soldier said. “I recall being intensely irritated that Indonesian intelligence should be so bad it could confuse a New Zealand infantry company with a British one.”

Of course the Border War was no chuckle time. Jungle warfare was nerve-wracking, brutal close-quarter combat where the enemy could suddenly appear, fire, and then vanish behind the dripping green curtain.

Some in the Commonwealth lines wondered what they were doing so far from home risking their lives in mud and malaria for a political sideshow.

But this was also the era of the great Communist scare when Australians felt particularly vulnerable. The West was terrified that Soekarno was turning his country into a Communist state and had to be stopped.

Although there’s evidence the Indonesian military was unhappy with their president’s leftist leanings they found themselves on the same side with Communist guerrillas also fighting to destabilise the Malaysian Federation.

Technically the Commonwealth forces were not supposed to enter Indonesian territory to avoid inflaming the international political situation. They had to wait on the Sarawak side for the Indonesian soldiers to cross over or parachute in before they could attack.

Inevitably such rules were ignored. By entering Kalimantan, making contact and then retreating, the pursuing Indonesians were lured over the border and trapped.

The troops were also not allowed to bombard Indonesian bases with artillery “unless the enemy acted aggressively.”

The Indonesians tended to operate in groups of 20 to 30 men and had no such restrictions on their movements. Until the later stages of the conflict they were the numerically superior force.

Thirteen years after Konfrontasi ended, good relations had been restored between the former combatants. One NZ officer attended the Indonesian Staff College where he met some of his one-time enemies. He reported that he was impressed with their honesty:

“Amidst laughter tinged with some sadness I would be regaled with the hardships they suffered in Kalimantan. They (the Indonesians) existed on very limited supplies over very long and extremely complicated supply lines and communications, but they were still able to fight with determination.”

By contrast the Commonwealth forces were backed by artillery, air power and good support with munitions, food and medicines.

There’s clearly a need for histories telling the Indonesian side of the conflict. It wasn’t the greatest moment in the Republic’s history but it deserves recognition for the courage shown by the men on the ground supporting their country.

(First published in The Sunday Post 13 June 2010)

THE SAMOAN CONNECTION

Finding Samoan roots in Indonesia

Where did the big brown-skinned people of the Pacific Islands originate? For Samoan public servant Tevita Simeki there’s no doubt his ancestors came from the Indonesian archipelago.

Thousands of years ago people from China slowly migrated south and then east. The evidence is based on DNA research, pottery fragments, farming methods and a few words.

Lua (dua) for two, lima for five and sefulu (sepuluh) for ten are widely quoted as examples of a distant shared past.

It’s a theory supported by many anthropologists, linguists and historians, though those who know Javanese are small, wiry-limbed people find the idea hard to grasp.

Tevita has no such qualms, and his beliefs were reinforced by three months in Java as a guest of the Indonesian Department of Foreign Affairs studying culture.

“I learned so much from Indonesia,” he said. “Samoan culture is under constant assault from Western values and entertainment. Indonesians seem to have resisted this international pressure, holding on to what they have while still accepting Toyotas and McDonald’s.

“In Yogyakarta I was impressed to find a modern, developed city with Western technology yet the people are maintaining their own music and dances. There’s no sign the culture has been corrupted by outside influences.

“It’s the same with meals. Everywhere I went in Java I ate local foods, like fresh ayam kampung (village chicken), now hard to find in Samoa because so much food is imported and frozen. There’s a lot that we can learn in the Pacific from Indonesia.

“A big problem we’re facing in Samoa is the way families try to gain status by putting on lavish and costly ceremonies such as for weddings and funerals. These events are done to impress, but they can be financially crippling.

“That can happen in Indonesia but it seems to me that people in Java are able to keep these things in check.”

Tevita, 26, was educated in Fiji at the University of the South Pacific where he studied history, politics and geography.

After returning to his homeland he became a public servant and a rapid riser. He is now a senior internal affairs officer in the Ministry of Women, Community and Social Development charged with preserving Samoan culture.

Last year the Samoan government approved his bid to take an all-expenses paid Indonesian Art and Culture Scholarship, joining 15 other handpicked bright young folk from other Pacific nations. The program, also involving applicants from other nations, has been running for seven years,

Tevita and his colleagues face a huge task trying to slow down the tsunami of Western civilisation threatening (along with rising sea levels) to swamp their isolated tiny communities.

Although Samoan families tend to be big, the population of Western (properly known as Independent) Samoa is less than 200,000 spread across 17 islands, some little more than sand spits. An estimated 70,000 live on American Samoa, a separate state.

As in Indonesia, tens of thousands have migrated overseas seeking work and better opportunities, though Samoa’s tropical laid-back villages look appealing to stressed-out city dwellers.

Samoa is about 4,400 kilometers northeast of Sydney and 3,700 kilometers southwest of Hawaii. It was previously a German colony, then administered by New Zealand. It became an independent republic in 1962.

It lies east of the International date line and like Java is just below the Equator. Though lush and fertile the soil is not worked intensively as in Indonesia.

More than half the 260,000 Pacific Islanders living in NZ are Samoans, some gaining fame as rugby players. Around 55,000 also live in Australia. Their remittances along with foreign aid help keep the Samoan economy alive. Local wages are low by Western standards, about three tala (Rp 10,000) an hour.

Tevita’s department is using television documentaries to promote Samoan culture, but the programs tend to be static discussions. The idea of getting across social messages using Indonesian sinetron (soap operas) where dramatic story lines reinforce traditional values is attractive, but there’s no money for big budget productions.

Tevita, who is also a dancer and musician, said he’d been impressed by the formal training of Javanese dancers in Yogyakarta. He liked the fact that artists could make a living displaying their skills and talents at important functions – something that hasn’t happened in Samoa though cultural groups do perform at tourist resorts.

Pacific island dancing, usually accompanied by rhythmic drumming, is vigorous, unlike the slow refined movements of hand and eye by Javanese performers. The Samoan handicraft industry is not well developed.

“We have limited resources – we’re used to that,” Tevita said. “Indonesia is resource rich but it’s the way you’re using your culture that I find so impressive. It’s not just in the hands of the old people – youth are widely involved and they are doing so with passion.

“We have museums in the Pacific but not arts centres as in Indonesia. This is something I want to introduce where young artists can be trained and our customs recognized, respected and preserved.

“It comes back to people knowing their true selves – who they are. Samoa needs to get back to its roots. Like Indonesians we are community people with decision-making undertaken at the local level through big meetings. The way to power and authority in Samoa is through service. This is what I believe and want to do.

“Our language is hierarchical, like Javanese. Different words and tones are used depending on whether you are talking up to authority figures or to ordinary people. The young are forgetting this.

”A particular issue not experienced in Indonesia is the influence of returning migrants who import Western ideas. This is something faced by all Pacific nations.

“Naturally Jakarta and the other big cities are a shock for people from the Pacific but we were all made to feel welcome. Although only one member of our group was a Muslim the rest who were Christians went without daytime food during Ramadan (the fasting month leading up to Idul Fitri) to give him support.

“I never felt homesick. Maybe our ancestors really do come from Indonesia.”

(First published in The Jakarta Post 15 May 2010)
##

AMRIS HASSAN AND NZ

The tough task of boosting trade: Amris Hassan

Amris Hassan, 51, the Indonesian ambassador to New Zealand, ends his three-year term this month. (April) A former academic, PDIP politician and businessman he reflects on terrorism, lost opportunities and his bid to boost business and educational ties between the two countries.

When I took up the appointment in 2007 I wasn’t given any specific objectives, other than maintaining the good relationships that have marked our 50 years presence in Wellington, and improving Indonesia’s profile.

I decided the Embassy had to be active, like a corporation out to make a profit. I demanded and got more funds and have spent a lot of time using my position to push Indonesian manufacturers to lift their game by expanding into export markets.

That hasn’t been easy. Once they heard that NZ has only around four million people some companies didn’t see the need to make the effort. One food additive manufacturer told me that he could sell more products in Bogor, so why bother?

So I decided to do things the other way around and take NZ businesspeople to Indonesia. That’s yielded results. We now have NZ retailers importing outdoor furniture, shoes, clothes and other consumer products from Indonesia.

In some cases our goods, like women’s clothing, are more expensive than those sourced from China. But I’ve been able to show that Indonesian materials are higher quality, and that counts when selling to the Western world.

NZ exports huge quantities of dairy foods to Indonesia and around the world, and does so very efficiently. But any Tom and Jerry can produce milk. The art is to find the niche markets for products like gourmet cheeses and milks. There are millions of Indonesians like me who are prepared to pay for high quality foods.

There’s still a long way to go, but bilateral trade has expanded enormously. It was worth NZ $1.2 billion (Rp 7.8 trillion) in 2006. Now it’s almost doubled to NZ $2.2 billion (Rp 14.2 trillion).

There’s a great deal of goodwill towards Indonesia in NZ. It hasn’t always been that way. Indonesia’s profile as a nation ruled undemocratically by the authoritarian government of President Soeharto was not well received by Kiwis.

When I first went to Wellington I didn’t realise the level of egalitarianism in NZ, and the dislike of nepotism, bribery and corruption. It’s critical that Indonesian diplomats and official visitors go out of their way to mix with Kiwis and get to understand ordinary people, and not just government officials.

New Zealanders can be frank and direct, but that’s OK. You know exactly what they think. They are friendly and discrimination and racism is almost non-existent.

In attempts to establish pathways to ASEAN, some NZ prime ministers visited the Republic during the Soeharto administration and President Soeharto came to NZ in 1972. But the real breakthrough came when the late President Abdurrahman Wahid (Gus Dur) visited NZ in 2000.

Kiwis warmed to his humanity and liberalism. They said: ‘This blind guy can be a president? We had no idea Indonesia was so different.’ They became aware that the authoritarian era had passed and Indonesia had become the most democratic nation in Asia.

Then came the tragedy of the 2004 tsunami. Kiwis are emotional and sentimental people and responded with great generosity. People in the streets were collecting money for the victims.

In 2005 President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono came to Wellington and two years later Prime Minister Helen Clark made a serious trip to our country, despite Australian travel warnings.

At this stage official relations between Indonesia and NZ are at their warmest. Sadly, many businesses are failing to seize the openings these visits have created, particularly with education follow-ups. NZ must capture the opportunities in education. Indonesian students seeking to study abroad provide a big market.

NZ schools and universities say they want overseas students but to be frank they’re not doing enough to attract Indonesians. Maybe it’s the Commonwealth syndrome where efforts are concentrated on countries like Malaysia and Singapore, when Indonesia is NZ’s nearest ASEAN neighbor.

Or perhaps it’s because to most Kiwis, Asia is China and huge efforts have been put into developing contacts and trade with that country.

There are 20,000 Indonesians studying in Australia. That figure is 50 times larger than the number of Indonesians in NZ schools and universities. However we have already helped develop school and teacher exchange programs and these are progressing well.

Look at the long-term benefits of building contacts and networks in international relations through education. Vice President Boediono, the Minister for Foreign Affairs Marty Natalegawa and the President’s youngest son Edhie Baskoro have all been educated in Australia.

Yet NZ has a very high standard of education, providing students with a clean environment and costs are relatively lower. This isn’t just an academic observation. My children attended schools in Wellington and one daughter will return to study economics at university this year.

The other good news is that more Kiwis are visiting Indonesia. Garuda is planning to reopen its NZ service and should have flights to Auckland from Jakarta and Denpasar via Brisbane early next year.

Another area I’ve been keen to promote is the earth sciences. NZ is a leader in geo-thermal energy and can help us a lot.

Like Indonesia NZ is on the Ring of Fire and subject to earthquakes. The country experiences more than 14,000 tremors every year. NZ has been developing new technology to help soften the impact of big quakes and strengthen public buildings.

We organized a conference in Jakarta two years ago that was attended by a large number of Kiwi scientists explaining how they do things. Also present was the NZ Minister of Civil Defence and our Minister of Foreign Affairs.

A similar workshop in Yogyakarta was conducted a year later. As a result a new Geo Sciences Center will be opened at the University of Gadjah Mada.

Against these positives have been the problems of perception. Some still see Indonesia as a nation of extremists. Just when I think I’ve convinced people otherwise there’s been another bombing and I’ve had to start all over again.

The converse is that NZ is thought to be a part of Australia. There should be a NZ – RI Friendship Association. Similar organizations have been established by Germany and Japan in Jakarta. USINDO (United States-Indonesia Society) is another excellent model.

I don’t know whether I’ll go back to politics or teaching, but I’d really like to continue with the diplomatic service. We’ll see.

(First published in The Jakarta Post 29 April 2010)

##

PENI SUPARTO

Revealing the invisible hand Duncan Graham

If President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono was a football tragic like Peni Suparto, then Indonesia might be playing in the World Cup against Real Madrid.

But in an unreal world the leader of Indonesia is apparently into volleyball. That didn’t stop him verbally backing the nation’s chances of getting ahead in the global game when he visited Malang last month (March).

It was a brave move for a Jakarta politician not known for his football prowess or largesse. In the central East Java city soccer isn’t just another sport. It’s a life and death matter, or as some would say, more important than that.

“The president came to Malang to open the National Soccer Congress (KSN) because this is the heart of Indonesian soccer,” said Peni. “We’re the only city with two football teams. We’re fanatic, but don’t say our supporters are bonek (hooligans). They come from Surabaya. We’re Aremania.”

Arema is Malang’s top team, playing in the Republic’s Premier League. It’s named after Kebo Arema, a warrior hero of the 15th century Majapahit kingdom. Their emblem is a garish MGM-style lion, roaring from gang gateways around the city over the slogan Singo Edan – Crazy Lions.

The other team is Persema. Least said, soonest mended

Coaches who don’t perform to fans’ expectations get the graffiti treatment, their names qualified with unprintable abuse.

When he’s not talking up football as Malang City General Chairman of the All-Indonesia Football Association, Peni is the mayor of Malang, a position he’s held since 2003 as a Partai Demokrasi Indonesia Perjuangan (PDIP) politician.

Any challenger would need to be suffering acutely from incurable Aremania. Forget policies on fixing footpaths and plugging potholes; such municipal matters are boring, boring. There’s just one issue in the hilltown of one million, and it has nothing to do with keeping streets clean.

The KSN Malang moanfest attracted more than 500 delegates weeping about the state of Indonesian soccer. For a country with a talent catchment area of around 240 million, the world’s third most populous nation should be running rings around minnows like Spain and Brazil, let alone little Britain.

“The problem is management. We have to do this so much better,” said Peni, without going into details despite much shin-kicking. Instead he kept talking about an “invisible hand” which will direct Indonesian soccer in the future, when for many the game needs a most visible boot.

“We have a plan to make sure Indonesia will be Asian champions within five years and in the World League within 15 years,” he said. “Then our national team will be an Asian Tiger.

“Do you know why Malaysia is so good? Because they have professional management – and lots of money. There used to be money for sport when gambling was legal in Indonesia.”

The State-run lottery was abolished during the Soeharto era following pressure from Islamic groups.

Arema gets its financial support from a local tobacco manufacturer; in the politically correct West cigarette sponsorship for sport is taboo.

Peni was talking during a trip to Wellington, the capital of New Zealand. Although the country has little more than four million people, the All Blacks rank number one in the International Rugby Board’s world list.

The Rugby World Cup will be played in NZ next year. Despite the domination of rugby, Wellington’s Phoenix soccer team has become the best in the country, competing internationally.

Being indifferent to sport in NZ is like being unable to talk Javanese in Java. The personable Peni was able to walk in both camps.

During his week in Wellington, where Peni headed a group of high school principals keen to develop close ties with NZ schools, the mayor took time out to check the city’s extensive sporting facilities provided by local government.

“When I was a kid in Kediri we had to play with a plastic bal,” said Peni. He’s no sofa barracker abusing referees while waving a TV channel changer at the screen.

For 21 years he played ‘the beautiful game’, as they say in Brazil, mainly as a striker. The mayor is a little lad and must have been a nimble sportsman to survive against the big boys. When not on the field he lectured in civil administration at the former Malang teacher’s college, now the University of Malang

Now he’s 64 but looks 50, proof sport can do magic things for a man’s well-being.

During his tour Peni came across two teams of seven year olds training during their holidays. They were practising on outdoor and indoor grounds, supervised by university students.

The contrast with most Indonesian cities was stark. Kampong residents will be familiar with the everyday sight of barefoot kids turning bitumen into soccer grounds, piles of shoes pegging out the goal posts.

However talented, the wannabe Maradonas will be struggling without boots and the chance to train on grass in a properly marked pitch with skilled adult direction.

“I agree facilities have to be improved,” said Peni. When reminded that a sports ground in the Malang suburb of Sawojajar is now the site of a petrol station he said nothing could be done because the land was privately owned.

“Football is egalitarian,” said Peni, watching little Kiwis dribble balls round plastic cones, then shoot for goal, doing their best to punch holes in the net.

“Anyone and everyone can play. We need talent scouts out in the regions looking for the next generation of players. We need professional quality coaches.”

Did this mean importing players and coaches from overseas? Now we’re talking serious money when the price of a top player is about equal to an aircraft carrier. Well, yes, but Peni wasn’t about to shout that from the stands to partisan crowds, not so crazy that they want to pay more tax.

“We’re nationalists. I want Malang to be Indonesia’s education city where we can exchange teachers and students – and ideas on improving sport in Indonesia.” And the cash?

“We need commitment, particularly from the national government.”

(First published in The Jakarta Post 20 April 2010)

##

TRANSPARENCY IN INDONESIA

Sefton Darby
Publish what you pay


Corruption is tough to tame, as the government knows well. President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono pledged to beat the beast when he took office in 2004, but six years later it’s still biting.

Maybe a clean administration is just an ideal from outside being imposed on cultures with different values and histories. Not so, according to Sefton Darby, a director of the NGO Transparency International (TI) in New Zealand.

TI is the anti-corruption agency that’s ranked Indonesia 111 among 180 nations measured by its corruption perception index.

“I don’t see this as a Western hang-up,” he said. “Culture isn’t static. Individuals can change when given the right leadership. The evidence shows that in countries with well-run governments people live in equitable societies and enjoy better standards of living.

“However change is best when it comes from within.

“Transparency is a threat to the corrupt. It’s not just a nice thing, a good word. I’ve worked in many countries and met hardly anyone at the village level who hasn’t complained about the wickedness of local officials and expressed their frustration with corruption.

“Corruption damages the international perception of a country and impacts on investment. It pays in the short term but it always leads to disaster in the long run.”

Mr Darby was in Jakarta last month to take part in a four-day international workshop on transparency, backed by Inwent, a German non-profit organization involved in international training and education.

It was the first such workshop in the region. Participants included government, NGO and private company representatives from Afghanistan, Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam, Papua New Guinea, Timor Leste, the Solomon Islands and the Philippines.

Mr Darby said getting people away from their own countries to talk about contentious issues usually resulted in rational discussions, opening dialogue between groups that might be hostile to each other in their homeland.

He also attended meetings on transparency issues surrounding the huge Cepu oil field in Central Java, which is being developed by the US giant Exxon Mobil and the state oil company Pertamina. It is expected to be in full production by 2013 but the project has run into problems with local authorities and communities.

Mr Darby has long been involved with the Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative (EITI), promoted by the former British Prime Minister Tony Blair. This aims to persuade companies and governments to be open about incomes, royalties and payments from oil, gas and mining projects.

The slogan behind the philosophy is “publish what you pay” so everyone can determine whether the distribution of funds is fair.

The idea is to ensure that the exploitation of natural resources benefits all. This is a tough ask when there are so many competing parties and ideologies – shareholders, employees, local communities, bankers, foreign and local governments, and other companies that supply services and infrastructure. Soaking through all this are local politics, nationalism and debates over who owns what.

“Indonesia is not yet a member of EITI but is moving in that direction and I’m confident it will get there,” said Mr Darby. “When it does, that will be of enormous significance.

“Some companies and government agencies use the ‘commercially confidential’ argument to avoid releasing data. But not all companies have a monolithic view and corporations differ from country to country.”

Mr Darby, 35, is a New Zealander who has enjoyed a rocket-powered career. After graduating from Otago University in his homeland, he won a scholarship to study at the University of St Andrews in Scotland. He graduated with a master’s degree in international security.

He then worked for the UK Cabinet office as a policy adviser before becoming an assistant director in the Central Strategy Unit. A year later he was a policy analyst in the Department for International Development, which developed the first EITI communications strategy.

After working as a consultant with the World Bank, he started his own consultancy back in NZ, the country that ranks first in the TI index, closely followed by Singapore and Denmark. The UK ranks 17 and the US 19.

“I think that being a New Zealander helps my credibility, although NZ’s status as a country of minimal corruption isn’t widely known,” he said.

While this interview was underway, a senior minister in the NZ government quit because he’d used his official credit card for personal purchases of less than Rp 500,000 (US $54).

Although he’s been an infrequent visitor to Indonesia, Mr Darby has worked in countries with worse corruption ratings like Azerbaijan, Cambodia, Nigeria and Sierra Leone.

Many of the problems that bedevil Indonesia are not exclusive to this nation, and are often linked to rapid development of natural resources and sudden surges of money. Even when good transparency programs are in place, getting the information out can be tricky.

Not everyone can read a profit and loss statement, appreciate the issues of risk capital and returns on investment, or navigate through the fog of jargon that clouds the business of business.

Should information be aggregated or disaggregated? When people don’t get all the information they want – or can’t understand it – they believe bad things and make accusations.

“Just because an issue is complicated doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be explained,” Mr Darby said. “That’s the challenge. Transparency can’t fix every problem, but it can open a door to other issues.

“Indonesia, like many other countries, has a hyper-complex bureaucracy and social structure. But there has to be separation between the elites of politics and the economy.

“Driving cultural change is risky territory, best left to the locals. However, there are advantages in being an outsider. You’re not part of the local system and you can’t be easily pinned by accusations of being mates with so and so.

“The best you can be is an honest broker.”

(First published in The Jakarta Post 5 April 2010)