There’s a group of 17 Indonesian academics currently studying English at Massey University. Five of the seven women in the group (see picture below) wear jilbab, the Islamic headscarf.
Before leaving their homeland they worried about discrimination. Their fears were based on reports of attacks on Muslims in Australia. Though sporadic these assaults get a good run in the Indonesian media.
The women, who have been in Wellington for more than a month, report no hostility. Like the 3,000 Indonesians now living in NZ they are discovering that although this country does have pockets of racism it doesn’t have the Australian hang-ups about Indonesia and Islam.
It would be warming to think we are a more tolerant society, but the reason for our acceptance may have more to do with geography and history than a generosity of spirit.
Indonesia is Australia’s big nation next door, 240 million people in an overcrowded archipelago with porous borders where democracy is still struggling after more than three decades of repressive military rule.
Australians have long considered Hindu Bali their backyard cheap exotic holiday destination, like Kiwis favor the Pacific islands. But few tourists venture into adjacent Java where Islam dominates, and where they might learn more about their neighbours. The Bali bombers, who killed 88 Australians in 2002, were Muslim fanatics from Java and their crimes have not been forgotten. Three Kiwis also died in the blasts but we’ve moved on.
Deep in the psyche of Australia is the fear of the ‘yellow peril’, millions tumbling out of Asia into the vast empty and loosely defended resource-rich continent below. ‘They’ were up there and it was obvious that gravity, if not poverty and envy, would force them Down Under.
This simpleton’s view was nurtured during the late 19th and early 20th century by a virulent anti-Chinese media campaign. The ‘White Australia’ immigration policy didn’t officially end till 1973; some Asians think it’s still in place..
The demons are no longer Chinese, but Afghans, Iraqis, Pakistanis, Sri Lankans and others, particularly ethnic Hazaras who follow the minority Shi’ite branch of Islam. Many have been genuine asylum seekers fleeing conflict and persecution – a few have been economic refugees seeking a better life.
After paying people smugglers huge amounts they’ve been shepherded through the Indonesian islands where poor fishermen will ferry cargoes of humans across the Timor Sea. People smuggling is not a crime in Indonesia; it is in Australia.
Losing their boats and freedom is no great deterrent to the fishermen. Their families already have the up-front fees from the smugglers, and life in an Australian prison with good health care and wholesome meals is often better than the breadline existence in a coarse-life coastal village.
Until the authorities woke up, many fishermen were getting a free flight home at the end of their discounted sentences with their wallets stuffed with cash garnered in gaol. Though only a few dollars a day were given to buy necessities in return for doing basic jobs, the sums were vast when compared with earnings in their heavily plundered seas.
The previous Liberal government claimed its tough line against people smugglers reduced the flow, but changes in the law under Labor are said by the Opposition to be encouraging the risk-takers.
Previously the asylum seekers, (‘illegals’ in the tabloid press, ‘unlawful non-citizens’ to the bureaucrats), were sent to Nauru under the so-called ‘Pacific Solution’.
Those who made it to the mainland were sometimes given TPVs – temporary protection visas. These did not allow relatives to join the refugees who could be deported once Australian authorities decided the dangers they faced in their homelands had abated. Some who were rejected by Australia were accepted by NZ.
Now the TPVs have been dumped. The boat people are taken to a detention camp on tiny Christmas Island, Australian territory 500 km south of Jakarta. Here claims for asylum are processed. The island has been excised from Australia’s migration zone.
The boat that last week was allegedly fire bombed killing five and putting scores in hospital, has again roused national ire about Islam and Indonesia – a debate that’s seldom heard in this nation.
There are about 360,000 Muslims in Australia, ten times more than in NZ, and they’ve built mosques in most big cities. Well-reported conflicts with local communities over the establishment of Islamic schools, and occasional extremist comments by radical imam have kept the fire stoked.
Australian politicians claim thousands are mustering in Indonesia waiting to make the perilous sea journey in rickety boats. Some arrested by Indonesian authorities have told reporters they ‘loved Australia’ and its ‘good and kind government which would help them solve all their problems’.
Clearly they hadn’t heard the rabid Australian talkback radio comments where the ‘queue jumpers’ have stirred the old fears about ‘the threat from the north’. The fact that there’s no orderly queue for refugees seeking entry to Australia hasn’t dented the myth.
Not have they hearkened PM Kevin Rudd’s claim that his policy is ‘hardline, tough (and) targeted’.
New Zealand, with the huge barrier of arid Australia to the northwest, the vast Pacific to the north and only penguins below has no such concerns. Even if Fiji Frank becomes more ruthless it’s unlikely that flotillas of little boats crammed with the oppressed will set sail for NZ across 2,000 km of empty ocean.
In short, border protection is not a major public issue in NZ, making this country a more welcoming nation to Muslims refugees, migrants and students. As the Indonesian academics in Wellington are now discovering, Islamophobia has yet to cross the ditch.
(First published in Scoop 22 April 2009)
##
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
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
THE LEGACY OF KARTINI DOWN UNDER
Kartini’s legacy gets the Kiwi touch Duncan Graham
They see themselves as the inheritors and custodians of the spirit of Raden Ajeng Kartini, national heroine and pioneer of women’s rights.
They are modern Indonesian women who are pursuing their own careers through further education and offering the younger generation role models of independence without devaluing their culture.
However their pride is cautious and conservative. Outside Indonesia they are seen as stand-alone professionals, respected for their learning and skills and what they do.
Yet they also know that when they are back home in Malang, East Java they’ll first be assessed as wives and mothers. However smart they may be in a competitive workforce they’ll still be viewed as second-class citizens by many Indonesians, just by virtue of their gender.
“Women are getting better educated and as a result more independent,” said Dr Lily Agustina, an agricultural scientist and lecturer at Malang’s Brawijaya University where she heads a study program.
“There are plenty of opportunities for women in Indonesia, but men are still seen as the head of the household. So are we modern Kartinis? Well, not yet.”
Lily, who specialises in organic farming, was one of seven senior women academics from Brawijaya who have been studying English full time in New Zealand. They’ve been accompanied by ten male colleagues from the same university.
Although they are all highly qualified, mainly middle-aged and well-established in their prestigious positions they have chosen to leave their husbands and children for three months to improve their education overseas. They’ve been doing this in an egalitarian Western country where their status is that of just another student.
New Zealand has been a leader in women’s rights, the first country in the world to give women the vote. That was in 1893, 14 years after the Javanese aristocratic Kartini was born and when she was starting to mildly question the established order and develop her ideas of equality.
Kartini died after childbirth aged 25 and was declared a national heroine in 1964 with her birthday a national holiday.
Her legacy is the acceptance of women’s rights to education, though in other areas, such as property rights in marriage, women still lag behind. The Brawijaya seven have been noting NZ law where a divorced wife automatically has the rights to 50 per cent of her husband’s property, and where joint ownership of bank accounts and land titles are common.
But old ideas about gender roles die hard.
“Men and women can’t be the same because they have different functions,” said plant tissue culture expert Dr Wahyu Widoretno. “Women give birth. Men can’t do that. In our religion men have to be the leaders.”
Eavesdropping was Professor Woro Busono, the deputy vice rector of student affairs who contributed: “And women can’t have more than one husband,” a remark that was greeted with brief and brittle laughter by the ever-so-polite Indonesian women. Fortunately for him there were no Kiwi feminists nearby or an international incident might have exploded, demanding ambassadorial intervention.
Wahyu added pensively, her mind on her domestic situation more than the battle of the sexes: “We don’t know how they can survive without us.”
Others, like Dr Nurul Isnaini from the faculty of animal husbandry, had a more robust take: “We all have our roles but men and women should treat each other with respect, whatever we do. I think we are the new Kartinis.”
The Indonesian academics have been sent to NZ as part of Brawijaya’s bid to set up international study programs where the classroom language will be English. Next year the university plans to recruit students from nearby Asian countries to learn in Malang and establish Brawijaya as a tertiary institution of regional repute.
The 17 Indonesians have been studying at Massey University in Wellington, the NZ capital. On their return they will head new post-graduate programs across several faculties.
For most it has been their first trip to a Western country. They have been staying with host families and their home university has paid all their expenses.
When they arrived in NZ they found that their years of formal study of English to be of little help when they crashed into the Kiwi vowel-warping accents head on. “We had to rapidly learn a new tongue – Tarzan English,” said analytical chemist Dr Atikah who had no qualms about making the appropriate arm-waving, finger-wagging gestures to embellish her requests.
“We were not fluent in English. Our education had been formal and passive. We had concentrated on theory, not practise.
“We’ve had no discrimination, though we were a little concerned before we left home because we’d heard of attacks on women wearing headscarves in Australia. That has not happened. People here have been friendly and helpful.
“We’ve had to forget about jam karet (rubber time). Here we have to be disciplined and that’s been good for us. I’ve changed my habits, and I hope I won’t change back again when I return home.”
Other shocks have been the pace of life – “rush, rush” commented Lily, though most visitors from Europe, the US and Australia reckon the NZ lifestyle is so laid back that it’s practically stationary.
Ignorance of Indonesia has been a concern so the academics have had to spend time explaining that the republic is not a hotbed of terrorism, but a land where friendly folk help each other through the principle of gotong royong – community self help.
When challenged on their mild disapproval of the Western culture of individualism they acknowledged that NZ society, despite it’s mind-your-own-business philosophy, had a similar set of values when it came to people assisting their neighbors at times of need.
(That morning a NZ community had rapidly raised $NZ 8,000 (Rp 50 million) to repatriate the body of a penniless young Kiwi who had died after a fight in Bali.)
The way Kiwi women dress and behave did not worry the academics, though it would distress the police in some Indonesian provinces. “That’s their culture and their business,” said Nurul. “I think it’s more of a problem for the men.”
Commented economist Dr Kusuma Ratnawati: “Some of the difficulties facing women in Indonesia come from within. Many are not brave enough to assert themselves. Some feel their jobs are not as important as men’s work.
“It’s important that we help empower them to have confidence in themselves, to lift their spirits.”
(First published in The Jakarta Post 21 April 2009)
Picture above: From left Hamidah Nayati Utami, Wahyu Widoretno, Atikah, Ani Mulyasuryani, Lily Agustina, Nurul Isnaini, Kusuma Ratnawati.
##
They see themselves as the inheritors and custodians of the spirit of Raden Ajeng Kartini, national heroine and pioneer of women’s rights.
They are modern Indonesian women who are pursuing their own careers through further education and offering the younger generation role models of independence without devaluing their culture.
However their pride is cautious and conservative. Outside Indonesia they are seen as stand-alone professionals, respected for their learning and skills and what they do.
Yet they also know that when they are back home in Malang, East Java they’ll first be assessed as wives and mothers. However smart they may be in a competitive workforce they’ll still be viewed as second-class citizens by many Indonesians, just by virtue of their gender.
“Women are getting better educated and as a result more independent,” said Dr Lily Agustina, an agricultural scientist and lecturer at Malang’s Brawijaya University where she heads a study program.
“There are plenty of opportunities for women in Indonesia, but men are still seen as the head of the household. So are we modern Kartinis? Well, not yet.”
Lily, who specialises in organic farming, was one of seven senior women academics from Brawijaya who have been studying English full time in New Zealand. They’ve been accompanied by ten male colleagues from the same university.
Although they are all highly qualified, mainly middle-aged and well-established in their prestigious positions they have chosen to leave their husbands and children for three months to improve their education overseas. They’ve been doing this in an egalitarian Western country where their status is that of just another student.
New Zealand has been a leader in women’s rights, the first country in the world to give women the vote. That was in 1893, 14 years after the Javanese aristocratic Kartini was born and when she was starting to mildly question the established order and develop her ideas of equality.
Kartini died after childbirth aged 25 and was declared a national heroine in 1964 with her birthday a national holiday.
Her legacy is the acceptance of women’s rights to education, though in other areas, such as property rights in marriage, women still lag behind. The Brawijaya seven have been noting NZ law where a divorced wife automatically has the rights to 50 per cent of her husband’s property, and where joint ownership of bank accounts and land titles are common.
But old ideas about gender roles die hard.
“Men and women can’t be the same because they have different functions,” said plant tissue culture expert Dr Wahyu Widoretno. “Women give birth. Men can’t do that. In our religion men have to be the leaders.”
Eavesdropping was Professor Woro Busono, the deputy vice rector of student affairs who contributed: “And women can’t have more than one husband,” a remark that was greeted with brief and brittle laughter by the ever-so-polite Indonesian women. Fortunately for him there were no Kiwi feminists nearby or an international incident might have exploded, demanding ambassadorial intervention.
Wahyu added pensively, her mind on her domestic situation more than the battle of the sexes: “We don’t know how they can survive without us.”
Others, like Dr Nurul Isnaini from the faculty of animal husbandry, had a more robust take: “We all have our roles but men and women should treat each other with respect, whatever we do. I think we are the new Kartinis.”
The Indonesian academics have been sent to NZ as part of Brawijaya’s bid to set up international study programs where the classroom language will be English. Next year the university plans to recruit students from nearby Asian countries to learn in Malang and establish Brawijaya as a tertiary institution of regional repute.
The 17 Indonesians have been studying at Massey University in Wellington, the NZ capital. On their return they will head new post-graduate programs across several faculties.
For most it has been their first trip to a Western country. They have been staying with host families and their home university has paid all their expenses.
When they arrived in NZ they found that their years of formal study of English to be of little help when they crashed into the Kiwi vowel-warping accents head on. “We had to rapidly learn a new tongue – Tarzan English,” said analytical chemist Dr Atikah who had no qualms about making the appropriate arm-waving, finger-wagging gestures to embellish her requests.
“We were not fluent in English. Our education had been formal and passive. We had concentrated on theory, not practise.
“We’ve had no discrimination, though we were a little concerned before we left home because we’d heard of attacks on women wearing headscarves in Australia. That has not happened. People here have been friendly and helpful.
“We’ve had to forget about jam karet (rubber time). Here we have to be disciplined and that’s been good for us. I’ve changed my habits, and I hope I won’t change back again when I return home.”
Other shocks have been the pace of life – “rush, rush” commented Lily, though most visitors from Europe, the US and Australia reckon the NZ lifestyle is so laid back that it’s practically stationary.
Ignorance of Indonesia has been a concern so the academics have had to spend time explaining that the republic is not a hotbed of terrorism, but a land where friendly folk help each other through the principle of gotong royong – community self help.
When challenged on their mild disapproval of the Western culture of individualism they acknowledged that NZ society, despite it’s mind-your-own-business philosophy, had a similar set of values when it came to people assisting their neighbors at times of need.
(That morning a NZ community had rapidly raised $NZ 8,000 (Rp 50 million) to repatriate the body of a penniless young Kiwi who had died after a fight in Bali.)
The way Kiwi women dress and behave did not worry the academics, though it would distress the police in some Indonesian provinces. “That’s their culture and their business,” said Nurul. “I think it’s more of a problem for the men.”
Commented economist Dr Kusuma Ratnawati: “Some of the difficulties facing women in Indonesia come from within. Many are not brave enough to assert themselves. Some feel their jobs are not as important as men’s work.
“It’s important that we help empower them to have confidence in themselves, to lift their spirits.”
(First published in The Jakarta Post 21 April 2009)
Picture above: From left Hamidah Nayati Utami, Wahyu Widoretno, Atikah, Ani Mulyasuryani, Lily Agustina, Nurul Isnaini, Kusuma Ratnawati.
##
Sunday, February 22, 2009
INDONESIA'S FEMINISTS ON THE ELECTION CAMPAIGN
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)
##
.
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)
##
.
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)
##
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