FEER: INDONESIA

[suriya@xxxxxxxxxxxx]

                         Dawn of a New Age
              Amid its economic crisis, Indonesia is preparing for dramatic
political
                 changes. A team of seven academics is fashioning a
legislative
              framework aimed at producing a truly representative
government, to be
                    elected in general and presidential elections in 1999.

                             By John McBeth in Jakarta

                                September 17, 1998



              I t has been an exhilarating and exhausting summer for Ryaas
Rasyid,
              rector of the Institute of Government Studies, and his team
of six. Night
              after night, starting shortly after Suharto quit as
Indonesia's president on
              May 21, the political scientists have been working into the
pre-dawn
              hours on an awesome task--fashioning a legislative framework
for the
              country's first truly representative government since
independence in
              1945.

              "At the first session, everyone took turns to throw out their
ideas," says
              Andi Mallarangeng, 35, who like other members of Tim Tujuh or
Team
              Seven is an academic who previously had little practical
political
              experience. "We put everything on the table and criticized
each other.
              The only thing we didn't do is up-end the table."

              Acting under a mandate from the Home Affairs Ministry, Team
Seven
              has been hammering out the rules for general and presidential
elections
              promised next year by President B.J. Habibie. On the drawing
board is a
              package of laws that will foster a multiparty system and
shift more power
              to the House of Representatives. It will preserve a strong
presidency, but
              also prepare the way for regional autonomy. Perhaps most
              controversially, the proposed laws will reduce--but not
eliminate--the
              number of seats for the military in the legislature.
Habibie's office is
              expected to submit the draft to parliament this month. 

              Working in spare time left by their regular academic jobs,
the law drafters
              are preparing for a historic moment: Indonesia's first taste
of real
              democracy since Sukarno, Suharto's predecessor, hijacked the
promise of
              the 1950s by reinstating authoritarian rule with the
military's help.
              Suharto maintained a tight grip on political life throughout
his 32 years of
              rule, and it was only with his dramatic resignation amid
student protests
              that Indonesians have dared to hope for a real say in
government. 

              That hope is as yet just a glimmer. The old habits of
autocratic rule are
              unlikely to be replaced overnight by new habits of grassroots
              consultation. Moreover, many former Suharto cronies remain in
power,
              and the influential army is reluctant to pull out of politics
completely.
              Racial hatred, particularly towards the Chinese minority,
which bore the
              brunt of the May riots, has not ended. Nor is there any
solace in the
              economy, which has shrunk 10% in the past year while
unemployment
              has grown by 50%.

              Not surprisingly, many people are sceptical about Indonesia's
chances of
              attaining and maintaining democracy. Alfred Stepan, a
professor at
              Oxford University and a leading expert on democratic
transitions, argues
              that Indonesia is not even at first base yet, because
remnants of the old
              order still linger in power. As a rough yardstick of how
slowly such
              processes can move, he notes that only one of the 15 former
Soviet
              states has developed a truly democratic system, even though the
              process began early in the decade. Indeed, the transition
from autocracy
              to democracy is rarely easy: Pakistan went through several
military
              regimes before getting a democratically elected government,
and the
              army still casts a long shadow there; and in post-Marcos
Philippines,
              democracy has been tumultuous.

              Some observers are more upbeat, however. Says Ben Reilly, a
programme
              officer of the Stockholm-based Institute for Democracy and
Electoral
              Assistance, who has visited Jakarta to advise Team Seven:
"Most of the
              other comparative countries that have gone through such a
              transformation have taken two or three years. Here they're
trying to do
              the same thing in about three months. It's going very, very
well."

              To be sure, many Indonesians are not waiting for legislation.
Interest
              groups have already formed more than 70 parties of various
hues, and
              Jakarta is pushing ahead with proposals for East Timor, which
it annexed
              in 1976, even though the regional-autonomy law has still to be
              completed. Non-governmental agencies, the media, and
intellectuals have
              been swept up in a ferment of political discussion about the
country's
              future. 

              If anything lasting is to be built, it will have to be on the
basis of a new
              set of laws that will entrench and protect the gains of the
May reform
              movement. As yet there are no plans to amend or rewrite the 1945
              Constitution; by commissioning the new legislation, however,
Habibie
              has shown he is sticking firmly to his 1999 timetable.
General elections
              will take place on May 15, and presidential ones on December
6. The
              government "need us, because they need legitimacy," says Team
Seven
              member Andi.

              Aides say the president, a one-time technology tsar, is
taking a personal
              interest in political reform. "Habibie wants to be remembered
as a
              president who brought Indonesia out of an authoritarian
system and into
              a democratic era where human rights is a guiding principle,"
says adviser
              Dewi Fortuna Anwar. Team Seven members, who have consulted
Habibie
              as they proceed, say he has a keen grasp of what's needed for
reform to
              work.

              For example, Akbar Tandjung, state secretary and recently
elected
              chairman of Golkar, wants to preserve the ruling party's
close links to the
              government bureaucracy. However, Habibie is adamant that civil
              servants shouldn't join parties or run for office. Says Team
Seven
              member Ramlan Surbakti: "The president was even firmer than
we were."
              If that piece of legislation goes through, it will be a major
departure from
              the Suharto years when Home Affairs Ministry officials commonly
              chaired local branches of Golkar, ensuring that the election
odds were
              stacked in the party's favour. 

              In addition to Habibie, the team has also consulted the
military and a
              broad spectrum of political and community groups. The
law-drafters say
              both Golkar and the military support the new voting system.
In the past,
              that support would have been sufficient for the law's passage
through
              parliament. But in the new era of reformasi, Team Seven's
efforts will also
              have to pass scrutiny by the public, political activists and
pressure
              groups--all of which are anxious to make their presence felt.
It is unclear
              how the politicians will react to laws that will deprive many
of them of
              comfortable careers and plump benefits.

              Another factor that could yet derail the process is the
deepening
              economic crisis, which Jakarta admits has pushed 90 million
Indonesians
              below the accepted poverty line. The resultant frustration
has led to
              increasing outbreaks of social violence. 

              If law-and-order deteriorates further, Jakarta might decide
that the
              country isn't stable enough to hold polls. That would be a
major blow for
              reform. By throwing the military's crucial support behind
Habibie,
              armed-forces chief Gen. Wiranto is signalling his conviction
that the way
              to breed confidence is continuity. That, and time. Analysts
say the lack
              of a genuine transitional administration--and a resurgence of
student
              activism--makes it vital for Indonesia to put a new system in
place as
              soon as possible.

              One of the biggest changes under the new laws will be to the
electoral
              system. Previously, legislators were chosen by proportional
              representation from each of Indonesia's 27 provinces. Voters
cast ballots
              for one of the three officially recognized parties--Golkar,
the Indonesian
              Democratic Party, known as the PDI, and the United
Development Party,
              or the PPP--rather than for individual candidates. The latter
were chosen
              by the parties and therefore gave their loyalty to party
bosses, rather
              than to constituents. 

              The draft election law changes that. It establishes 420
voting districts,
              where ballots are cast for individuals and the top
vote-getter wins in a
              first-past-the-post system. In addition to 55 seats being
allotted to the
              military in the newly expanded 550-member House of
Representatives, 75
              seats will be parcelled out to local parties on a quota basis
from a
              national party list. Drafters argue that this uniquely
Indonesian
              innovation will ensure representation for smaller parties
with a popular
              base but not enough strength to muster seats at the district
level. 

              But Team Seven has found it difficult to defend a proposed
stipulation
              that parties must win at least 10% of the 550 seats in the
first election in
              1999 or lose the right to contest the next, in 2003. At a
recent seminar in
              Jakarta, Indonesian scholar Daniel Lev of the University of
Washington
              called the measure a way of "smoking them out in the first
election, then
              shooting them in the second." Duke University's Donald Horowitz
              dismissed it as a "bizarre" mechanism aimed at muffling
"legitimate
              expressions of political interest."

              For their part, the drafters argue that some criteria are
needed to prevent
              a proliferation of "nuisance parties," such as helped to
derail open
              politics in Thailand after the overthrow of Thanom
Kittikachorn's military
              government in 1973. They say they had suggested a threshold
of 5% of
              seats, but Habibie had insisted on 10%.

              To qualify for registration, parties will also be required to
either set up
              branches in at least half of Indonesia's 27 provinces or to
collect 1 million
              signatures in support. Afan Gaffar, another Team Seven
member, says
              the rule is intended to discourage political groups based on
ethnicity or
              religion. "We think parties like that could be a recipe for
national
              disintegration because they will support lost causes and
create conflicts
              with the national government," says Gaffar.

              The drafters also hope that a legislature more truly
accountable to its
              constituents will be a better check on the presidency, which
Suharto had
              turned into a personality cult. A separate law, still on Team
Seven's
              drawing board, redefines the president's role as head of
state, limits the
              tenure to two five-year terms and attempts to curtail the
president's
              powers to issue decrees. Under Suharto such diktats were
routinely
              endorsed by a rubber-stamp parliament that never drew up its
own laws.
              Analysts say if coalition politics hampers the normal
law-making process,
              future presidents may be tempted to resort again to ruling by
decree.

              The incumbent's powers will also be severely trimmed in the
People's
              Consultative Assembly, the body that meets every five years and
              chooses the president. A draft law cuts the size of the
assembly to 700
              members from 1,000; it will comprise 550 legislators, 81
representatives
              from elected provincial councils and 69 from community
organizations.
              Suharto used to hand-pick the nonlegislative members of the
assembly,
              selecting the very people who were to decide whether to award
him
              another term. 

              Also on the anvil is a law that allows autonomy down to the
provincial
              level--a major step for a sprawling archipelago with a
history of regional
              rebellions and a lack of confidence in its own unity.
"Suharto's New
              Order Government said autonomy will lead to disintegration,"
says Team
              Seven's Ramlan. "We're shifting the paradigm. We're saying
that if you
              provide for more autonomy, it will actually defuse separatist
tendencies."

              The most heated debate, though, is over Team Seven's decision
to allot
              the military 55 seats in the new legislature--conceivably
enough to give it
              the balance of power. Although that number is down from 100
six years
              ago, the presence of retired colonels and generals in a
democratically
              elected chamber will touch a raw nerve among many Indonesians
who
              only now are learning the full extent of the military's
brutal excesses
              under the Suharto regime.

              International experts can't recall another case where
military appointees
              get to sit alongside elected delegates. Apart from the
obvious case of
              Burma, the only other comparable country in Asia where the
army retains
              an institutionalized role is Thailand, where active-duty
officers occupy 56
              of the 262 seats in the appointed Senate. 

              Indonesian military leaders also oppose efforts to reduce
their presence
              in local government, which both enhances their political
control and
              provides seconded employment for mid-ranking officers. Half
of the 27
              provincial governors and 40%-50% of the 309 bupatis, or
district chiefs,
              are active-duty officers, and the military is estimated to
control an
              average of nine positions on each of the 45-man district and
regional
              councils.

              Already under heavy fire for abducting and torturing
pro-democracy
              activists over the past year, the Indonesian military still
has to face
              potentially explosive allegations over the extra-judicial
killings of
              hundreds of suspected Muslim separatists in Aceh province in the
              1990s. "Public confidence in the institution may be near
collapse," says a
              Western military observer. "And confidence is something
that's very
              difficult to win back."

              The military argues that it needs to have influence in
government if it is
              to avoid bearing the brunt of ill-advised policies. The
military "don't want
              to be just a fire brigade, they want to share in making
public policy," says
              Afan Gaffar. But critics reject this argument. "It's a hoax
we have been
              forced to swallow in the past because of the army's might,"
says political
              analyst Marsilam Simanjuntak. "But if the argument is that
its function is
              to protect the integrity of the state, then why can't it do
it without
              entering parliament?"

              While few people doubt his sincerity, Gen. Wiranto has given
himself the
              unenviable task of trying to disentangle the military from
its past and yet
              protect senior officers with skeletons in their closets.
Certainly, the furore
              over his decision to dismiss Suharto's son-in-law, Lt.-Gen.
Prabowo
              Subianto, and forgo a court-martial for now has demonstrated how
              difficult it is going to be. "They're trying as much as
possible to defend
              what they have, but they are in retreat," says law-drafter
Ramlan. "Their
              capacity to hold their ground is diminishing along with their
loss of
              credibility."

              Indonesian scholar William Liddle of Ohio State University
told a recent
              gathering in Jakarta that under the restraining influence of
globalization,
              the military has found it difficult to work out a vision of
the future that
              will allow it to fill the vacuum left by Suharto's downfall.
But if an
              "opening" has been provided, as he says, it will take massive
pressure
              on the street for the political elite to pluck up the courage
to end the
              military's long tradition of dwifungsi, its dual political
and military role. 

              For one thing, the generals still have the ability to stir up
social disorder
              if they are unhappy with the reforms. And the president will
have to
              ensure investigations into human-rights abuses don't lead to a
              disintegration of the armed forces, muses presidential
adviser Anwar. "If
              the military thinks the civilian government is bent on
destroying it, then it
              could take precipitive action," she says. That's something
Team Seven
              doesn't want to think about.