Showing posts with label Law. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Law. Show all posts

Apr 8, 2010

The Nation - The Surveillance Regime

NSA spying diagramImage by hughelectronic via Flickr

Editorial

This article appeared in the April 26, 2010 edition of The Nation.

April 7, 2010

The recent California federal district court ruling that the Bush administration's warrantless wiretapping violated a 1978 surveillance law was the first significant judicial rebuke to post-9/11 government eavesdropping. For that reason alone, Judge Vaughn Walker's damages award to the Muslim charity Al-Haramain and its attorneys, targets of unlawful spying in 2004, is worthy of celebration. But the ruling won't change our current deeply troubling surveillance regime. In that sense, it is a timely reminder of unfinished business.

Ever since Barack Obama took office, accountability for rights violations during the "war on terror" has been thin. Victims of wrongful overseas detention, surveillance and torture have received no apology and no reparations. Despite an early commitment to close Guantánamo, 183 prisoners remain there. Indeed, Obama has released fewer detainees than Bush did during his last year in office. And despite an early promise to protect the First Amendment rights of Muslim charities, Obama has done nothing to change the onerous application of terrorism financing laws. Walker's decision is only the second to have ruled against the so-called Terrorist Surveillance Program. All other challenges--including one against the odious 2008 FISA Amendments Act (FAA), which The Nation has joined as a plaintiff--ultimately got booted at the courthouse door.

The Constitution in PerilImage by Renegade98 via Flickr

Even if Walker's opinion survives possible appeal, it will have no effect on the broad surveillance powers unleashed by the FAA, which passed with then-Senator Obama's support. Under that law, the government can dispense with individualized warrants, the cornerstone of Fourth Amendment privacy protections. Absent meaningful judicial review, we simply can't know how much surveillance the government is carrying out.

Continuity, not change, has characterized the conduct of Eric Holder's Justice Department. Walker documents, in his opinion, the government's persistent "refusal to cooperate with the court's orders," its improper use of procedural delays and even point-blank refusals to produce information. Yes, this was business as usual during the Bush era. But Walker was talking about events on Obama's watch.

Nor is Walker's experience unusual. In lawsuits by survivors of the CIA's "black sites" and Guantánamo's interrogation rooms, the government either keeps insisting that "state secrets" require outright dismissal or has stuck to the canard that noncitizens forcibly brought into US custody overseas lack all constitutional rights. In Guantánamo litigation, habeas lawyers complain about obfuscation, secrecy and delay not dissimilar from what they faced in the Bush era.

Don't Spy On MeImage by KaroliK via Flickr

Blaming the lawyers is easy. But it is the otherwise near-absolute absence of accountability that makes Walker's opinion such a lonely beacon. This absence is, in large part, a result of the Obama administration's failure to explain to the American people that the surveillance program violated the Constitution, and that unlawful and futile torture was rife in Guantánamo and the black sites.

20091027 - kitchen - GEDC0449 - wiretappingIt is not too late to win the political, or the moral, battle. It is not too late to use the bully pulpit of the presidency to explain that reckless and illegal incursions into privacy rights are no road to security. It is only by taking on that battle that the Obama administration, and not just a handful of voices on the federal bench, can produce the real change its lawyers have been fighting.


Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Feb 28, 2010

In Afghanistan, U.S. seeks to fix a tattered system of justice

By Keith B. Richburg
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, February 28, 2010; A09

KABUL -- Behind the combat troops and military trainers, alongside the aid workers and agriculture experts, come the lawyers.

U.S. State Department legal experts and contractors are fanning out across the capital and throughout the provinces, trying to build a functioning legal and correctional system in a broken country where justice is too often delayed, denied or nonexistent.

The widespread sentiment that there is no justice in Afghanistan is one of the principal causes of popular disillusionment with the government of President Hamid Karzai. The feeling has been exploited by the militant Taliban, which dispenses its own brutal version of summary justice in areas under its control.

The U.S.-led effort is already showing signs of having an impact. Near the end of a seven-month American training course for prosecutors and police officers, a prosecutor from Takhar province, Abdul Zaher, said: "In this country, Afghans are used to torturing suspects. In this course, we've learned to stop, because it's illegal. If we have a suspect in custody, we've learned how to treat him."

The problems here affect every level of the justice system, from police to courts to prisons.

Because there are not enough attorneys, many arrested suspects are sentenced to prison without ever seeing a defense lawyer as required by the Afghan constitution. Many prisoners languish in jail past the time they can be legally held without a trial. Others have remained in prison for months after their sentences, because their cases fell between the cracks.

Some of the problems were on display during a recent court session at the country's main intelligence office, the National Security Directorate, which tries terrorism suspects. In a cramped room, the prosecutor read out the charges while one of the three judges talked on his cellphone and another sent text messages.

There was no computer, telephone or electricity. The prosecutor carried court documents in a green plastic shopping bag. Judge Abdul Baset Bakhtiari told one suspect he was being sentenced to six years in prison for belonging to the Taliban but said the man could appeal. The defendant angrily demanded a copy of the charges against him, and the judge burst out: "We don't have a photocopier! You want the judge to pay for this out of his own salary?"

Judges complain they have no equipment, no cars to travel to court, no government-issued phones and, most importantly, no security -- many are threatened, some have been kidnapped, others killed. Bakhtiari said that during a sensitive trial, he had to move his family to a hidden location for six months and take his children out of school.

"All of this causes injustice," Bakhtiari said. "Justice cannot be implemented in the country."

Nearly everyone agrees the system is awash in corruption. The wealthy, or those with connections, rarely face punishment. Judges and prosecutors -- whose salaries are barely $200 per month -- routinely accept payments to drop charges, lose case files or let suspects walk free.

"People who have money can go free," said Harum Mutmaeen, 22, who was on his way to visit his cousin at Pul-i-Charkhi prison outside Kabul. His cousin had been imprisoned there for a year and a half after being implicated in a kidnapping. "The people who don't have money -- nobody cares about them," Mutmaeen said.

U.S. officials recognize those doubts about the system here.

"This is one of the most important challenges that we face," said David T. Johnson, assistant secretary for the State Department's Bureau of International Narcotics and Law Enforcement Affairs. "People have to be confident that justice is being done."

The bureau is working with police and prosecutors to develop a computerized case management system for the courts. Its $100 million budget is projected to nearly double next year.

The challenge is daunting. Afghanistan is divided into 34 provinces and 400 small districts, and fewer than a hundred of those districts have an assigned prosecutor. Most have no defense lawyers and no courts.

In an effort to bring some order to a system with 15,000 active criminal cases nationwide, a U.S. contractor developed a relatively simple system in which each case was assigned a number and a colored folder with a form for such basic information as the defendant's name, arrest date, arresting police officer, prosecutor and judge. About a third of the cases have entered the new system -- in the process of reviewing cases to create the files, authorities found that 128 prisoners were incarcerated beyond their sentence term.

Even before suspects are arrested, investigations must be improved, U.S. officials have said. They have created training sessions for police officers and prosecutors -- in many cases, the sessions mark the first time the two Afghan groups have ever trained together.

The training includes staged crime scenes with wooden dummies for corpses, marked off with red and white tape to keep onlookers at bay. The sessions also include providing officers with copies of the Afghan constitution and penal code, fingerprint kits and digital cameras -- and having them watch videos of American TV crime shows such as "CSI: Las Vegas" and courtroom movies such as "My Cousin Vinny."

Ghulam Mohammed has been a police officer in Takhar province for 25 years, dealing with hundreds of cases. But before coming to one of the training sessions, he said: "I didn't know anything about fingerprints or DNA or whatever. . . . I've learned a lot of new things."

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Sep 29, 2009

Indonesia Limits Corruption Court - WSJ.com

Fight Corruption! KPK Invites Celebrities to J...Image by Ikhlasul Amal via Flickr

JAKARTA -- Indonesia's efforts to weed out corruption took a step backward on Tuesday when the country's Parliament passed a new bill diluting the powers of the nation's popular Corrupt Crimes Court.

The Court was set up in 2003 as a special body to try graft cases and has sentenced scores of politicians, central bank officials and regional governors to jail. That crackdown has won President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono praise at home and abroad for battling graft, a problem which has seriously dented foreign investor confidence in Indonesia over the past decade.

But some lawmakers and police have argued the Court's powers are too wide-ranging and could lead to abuses. The Court has a reputation for handing down harsher sentences than Indonesia's regular justice system, and its sister body, the Anti-Corruption Commission, also formed in 2003, has broad powers to investigate and prosecute corruption cases -- including setting up wiretaps without a warrant -- before passing them off to the Court for sentencing.

Anti-corruption advocates say politicians simply fear the dragnet will move their way and want to hobble the anti-corruption drive before it does.

Either way, the backlash against the Court and the Anti-Corruption Commission among some of Indonesia's elite is picking up speed, just as Mr. Yudhoyono is touring the United States after the meeting of G20 nations in Pittsburgh to drum up investment in Indonesia, one of the few world economies widely expected to post positive economic growth this year.

Investors generally have grown more favorable towards Indonesia over the past year amid signs that the vast archipelago nation is finally getting a handle on its biggest problems, including corruption and terrorism. But any backtracking on those successes could curtail investor interest at a time when other Asian economies are recovering from the worst effects of the global economic slowdown. A spokesman for Mr. Yudhoyono was not immediately available for comment.

The new bill, effective immediately, potentially weakens the Court significantly by allowing judges from the country's regular judicial system -- which is often cited by Indonesians and outside groups such as Transparency International as one of the nation's most graft-ridden institutions, with a poor record in trying corruption cases -- to form a majority on panels hearing cases at the Court. Advocacy groups say that will reduce its effectiveness.

Under previous laws, the Court had to be staffed by a majority of non-career judges recruited from among practicing lawyers, university professors and retired prosecutors.

"The reputation of career judges for corruption cases in Indonesia is not good," said Eryanto Nugroho, a researcher at the Center for Indonesian Law and Policy Studies, an independent legal advocacy group.

The bill was drafted by Indonesia's Ministry of Law and Human Rights and then debated in a parliamentary committee whose meetings are not open to the public. No politicians have publicly taken credit for the bill and attempts to reach Law and Human Rights Minister Andi Mattalata were not successful.

Acording to Nursyahbani Katjasungkana, a politician from the Islamic-based National Awakening Party, some politicians attempted to insert a clause into the bill that would have stripped the Anti-Corruption Commission of its powers to prosecute graft cases at the Court. She said her party and the Prosperous Justice Party, another Islamic-based party which has a reputation for battling graft, opposed the moves and that the clause was eventually dropped from the final law. It wasn't possible to independently confirm her account.

Opponents of Indonesia's corruption campaign have made other moves in recent weeks to hobble the Commission, which is also known as the KPK. Two weeks ago, Indonesian police named two senior officials of the KPK as suspects in a bribery case. Neither of the KPK deputy commissioners has been charged of a crime and both deny any wrongdoing. One of the commissioners, Chandra Hamzah, a former litigation lawyer, is well-respected among anti-corruption activists and is widely viewed as the driving force behind much of the KPK's successful work in recent years.

Police have confirmed the two are suspects but have not made further comments about the case.

Tensions between the police and the KPK intensified in July after Susno Duadji, the national police's head of criminal investigations, was wiretapped by the KPK, according to people familiar with the matter.

Write to Tom Wright at tom.wright@wsj.com

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Sep 28, 2009

Global Voices Online - Indonesia: Controversial new film law

Session of the Indonesian People's Representat...Image via Wikipedia

Posted By Carolina Rumuat On 2009-09-14 @ 11:33 am

The Indonesian movie-making industry is criticizing the newly revised Film Law [1] [id]. The law is deemed to leave a small room for creativity, and putting the survival of the industry under the government's tight supervision.

If the agonizing law is strictly implemented, the flourishing landscape of national cinema will surely turn to a different direction.

Film critic Totot Indrarto wrote an opinion [2] [id] on local journal Kompas:

Sejak RUU disosialisasikan, sejumlah komponen komunitas perfilman Indonesia, dengan berbagai cara yang konstitusional dan saluran yang ada, telah menyatakan ketidaksetujuan atas sejumlah pasal. Antara lain, larangan membuat film dengan isi tertentu; pembatasan produser untuk menggunakan SDM dan teknologi tertentu yang dibutuhkan; pembuatan film harus dimulai dengan pendaftaran judul, cerita, dan rencana produksi; kewenangan Lembaga Sensor Film (LSF) yang masih besar; pekerja film wajib memiliki sertifikat kompetensi dari organisasi profesi, lembaga sertifikasi profesi, atau perguruan tinggi; kegiatan peredaran, pemutaran, apresiasi, pengarsipan, dan ekspor-impor film diatur dengan peraturan menteri; serta sejumlah sanksi administratif dan ancaman pidana yang mengerikan.

[…]

Substansi UU Perfilman itu jelas amat birokratis, eksesif, cenderung represif. Sementara semangatnya menafikan arus besar dalam komunitas perfilman Indonesia yang menghendaki agar urusan film dikembalikan sepenuhnya ke tangan orang film.

Since the law's draft was first introduced, numerous components of Indonesia's film community, through various constitutional-abiding ways and channels, have declared disagreements on several points. Which are, prohibition to make films with certain content; limiting the producers to use the required manpower and technology; film production should start by registering the title, plot, and production plan; the Board of Censorship still has great authority; people who work on film industry need to be certified from professional organization, professional certification agency or college; film's distribution, screening, appreciation, archiving, and export-import are controlled based on minister's decree; numerous horrible administrative sanctions and criminal charges.

The substance of the film law is clearly extremely bureaucratic, excessive, and quite repressive. The grand idea (of this law) is to diminish the big splash from the Indonesian film communities which demand movie issues to be returned to the hands of the movie people.

Some professionals feared that the law could trigger a massive wave of unemployment, since one point of the law imposed job related certification for those who wish to remain in the industry.

Iman Fatah wondered [3] if the law would force him turn away jobs:

Pada poin #9 (pasal 68), Itu dampaknya sangat besar mengingat di Indonesia para insan perfilman mayoritas berangkat dari otodidak dan pengalaman karena minimnya pendidikan formal di bidang film. Lalu bagaimana nasib para pekerja music scorer dan music producer otodidak seperti saya ini? apakah ini artinya saya DILARANG MEMBUAT SCORING FILM LAGI?

Poin #9 (chapter 68) could have great impact, since, in Indonesia, the majority of those who work in the industry learned things autodidactly and through experience, (mainly) because there are so few formal education to be found. So what will happen to me as music scorer and producer who learned autodidactly? Does this mean that I can't make film score anymore?

Herman Saksono [4] said that the House of Representatives, though on paper has a noble intention to protect the survival of film industry, isn't choosing the right path. Saksono pointed out [5] that imposing 60% of local film quota is an excessive protectionism move.

Pertama-tama kita harus sepakat bahwa melindungi potensi nasional kita adalah sesuatu yang mulia dan penting.

[…]

proteksi yang berlebihan justru akan melahirkan jago-jago kandang kelas teri. Adanya kuota 60% justru mendorong produser-produser film sembarangan membuat film, hanya demi memenuhi kuota hadiah dari DPR.

Akibatnya, kualitas film kita jadi buruk. Kuantitas di atas kualitas. Padahal sekitar 90% film Indonesia itu buruk. Jadi, dipastikan yang buruk akan bertambah banyak. Ini bukan sebuah hipotesis, ini sudah terbukti ketika pemerintah mewajibkan stasiun televisi menayangkan minimal 70% tayangan produksi dalam negeri di awal 90-an.

First of all we do agree that the initiative to protect our national potential is something that's both noble and important.

[…]

Excessive protectionism will give birth to the schoolyard champions. With 60% quota, film producers will make low quality movies for the sake to fulfill the quota given by the House of Representatives.

As the result, the quality of our movies deteriorate. Quantity over quality. In fact 90% of Indonesian films are bad. So, the bad ones will surely keep on appearing. This is not hypothesis, it's a fact just like when the government imposed local TV channels to air at least 70% of local productions in the beginning of the 90s.

He added that the industry requires a bigger space in order to improve a more creative atmosphere:

Mungkin DPR lupa kalau untuk bersaing di kancah industri kreatif global, yang dibutuhkan adalah ruang untuk berekspresi dan kemudahan birokrasi, bukan shortcut dan cheatsheet.

Perhaps the House of Representatives forgot that in order to compete in the global creative industry what the people need is a room for expression and bureaucracy ease, not shortcut and cheatsheet.

Wina Armada Sukardi, a journalist and also a film critic, said [6] there are few of weak points on the new law which systematically restrain the improvement of the currently growing movie industry:

Keempat, sistem sensor yang dipakai masih memakai sistem pemotongan dan bukan klasifikasi murni. Memang sudah ada penggolongan atau pembagian umur, tetapi produser tetap harus mengikuti ”selera” lembaga sensor film. Hal ini melahirkan sistem sensor klarifikasi setengah hati.

[…]

Keenam, peranan pemerintah terlalu dominan memasuki hampir seluruh aspek perfilman. Campur tangan pemerintah tidak hanya sebatas pada pemberian bantuan keuangan dan hal-hal yang strategis saja, tetapi juga sudah masuk ke dalam masalah-masalah tetek bengek. Makanya tak banyak lagi ruang yang tersisa bagi insan perfilman untuk mengatur dan mengekspresikan dirinya sendiri.

Fourth, the current censorship system still use the “cut” system instead of pure classification. Sure there's a classification or age classification, but the producer still needs to follow the “taste” of the censorship agency. And this caused half-hearted censorship by classification system.

[…]

Sixth, government's role is too dominant and is included in nearly all aspects of the movie making business. Goverment's involvement isn't limited on financial aid and strategic matters, but also to thingamajig affairs. Therefore not much left for the movie people to control and express themselves.

However, he added, the industry shouldn't cry over spilled milk and should consider this as a lesson, so that in the future everybody who's involved in the business would fight together defending their common freedom of expression…

Kelahiran UU Perfilman baru ini memberikan pelajaran lain kepada kalangan film nasional: jangan tidak peduli terhadap urusan pihak lain dalam dunia perfilman yang sama. Selama ini terdapat kecenderungan kalangan film hanya sibuk mengurus diri sendiri dan tidak begitu peduli terhadap urusan pihak lainnya. Hanya apabila terdapat kepentingan langsung mereka yang terganggu barulah mereka beraksi.

Dalam memperjuangkan substansi UU Perfilman yang baru pun agar lebih banyak unsur kemerdekaan berekspresi dan kondisi yang kondusif bagi perfilman nasional, lebih banyak dilakukan oleh kalangan nonfilm. Dari mulai kalangan aktivis prodemokrasi sampai wartawan budaya ikut memerhatikan perkembangan soal ini. Tapi kalangan perfilman baru datang belakangan, itu pun jumlahnya cuma secuil.

Tidaklah mengherankan apabila di tengah ketidakpedulian itu ada pihak lain yang mengambil inisiatif untuk menata dunia perfilman nasional berdasarkan versinya. Jadi, sebenarnya, UU Perfilman memang harga yang harus diterima oleh kalangan perfilman sendiri atas sikap mereka yang kurang proaktif. Inilah kado buat kalangan perfilman sesuai dengan sikap tindak mereka sendiri.

The birth of the new Film Law has taught yet another lesson to everyone in the national film industry: not to be ignorant of the right of their fellow film making professionals. All these times, the film people tends to mind about their own business and ignore the others (who are involved in the same industry). They react only when their interest is being disturbed.

It is the non-film industry people who are (more seriously) fighting the substance of the new Film Law, so it will have more freedom of expression and a more conducive condition for the national movie industry. From pro-democracy activists to cultural journalists followed closely the updates of the issue. The movie makers came later on, and in small numbers.

It's not surprising if on the midst of that passiveness, another party took initiative to rearrange the national film industry according to their version. So, in fact, the Film Law is indeed the price to pay by those in film industry for their less than proactive demeanors.

Hundreds who are against the new law signed an online petition [7], and a Facebook Group [8] was set-up for this cause.

http://cetak.kompas.com/read/xml/2009/09/13/02594990/uu.perfilman.baru.siapa.peduli

Article printed from Global Voices Online: http://globalvoicesonline.org

URL to article: http://globalvoicesonline.org/2009/09/14/indonesia-controversial-new-film-law/

URLs in this post:

[1] Film Law: http://masyarakatfilmindonesia.files.wordpress.com/2009/09/ruu-perfilman-final-paripurna-08-09-092.pdf

[2] wrote an opinion: http://cetak.kompas.com/read/xml/2009/09/12/04335636/kami.tidak.percaya.negara

[3] wondered: http://imanfattah.wordpress.com/2009/09/08/ruu-perfilman-memasung-kreativitas-dan-menambah-pengangguran-di-indonesia/

[4] Herman Saksono: http://curipandang.com/profil/hermansaksono.html

[5] pointed out: http://curipandang.com/baca/2009/09/09/kuota-film-nasional-60.html

[6] said: http://cetak.kompas.com/read/xml/2009/09/13/02594990/uu.perfilman.baru.siapa.peduli

[7] online petition: http://www.petitiononline.com/ruufilm/petition.html

[8] Facebook Group: http://www.facebook.com/search/?q=perfilman&init=quick#/group.php?gid=126890478595&ref=search&sid=573466481.1489651628..1

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Sep 26, 2009

Indonesia corruption body under attack: activists - Yahoo! News

It's all about the...Rupiah, Baht, Singapore D...Image by Mikey aka DaSkinnyBlackMan via Flickr

JAKARTA (AFP) – The future of Indonesia's powerful anti-corruption commission has been put under threat by what activists say is a concerted campaign to shut down progress made against entrenched graft.

Lawmakers are expected to pass a law next week that would strip the independent Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) of the authority to prosecute -- a power that has seen it put away high profile politicians and officials.

The law, part of a rash of legislation before the end of the current parliament's term, would leave the KPK solely as an investigator while the corruption-tainted attorney general's office (AGO) would be left to prosecute.

"The grand scenario is the government is trying to weaken the KPK," Indonesia Corruption Watch secretary general Teten Masduki told AFP.

The law is likely a reaction to successes that have seen the KPK-linked Corruption Court achieve a 100 percent conviction rate in a country known as one of the world's most corrupt, Masduki said.

"I think everyone knows the DPR (parliament) is always reluctant to go with the process of anti-corruption. They don't really support the KPK."

The looming legal changes come as the KPK was paralysed by the suspension this week of two of its remaining four commissioners after they were named suspects in a police graft probe.

The suspension of deputy commissioners Chandra Hamzah and Bibit Samad Rianto comes just months after the arrest of KPK chief Antasari Azhar for murder and is the latest chapter in what activists have called a war between the KPK and top police officers.

They have repeatedly denied they are out to weaken the KPK, in spite of reports that senior police officers have been angered by the commission investigating their own members.

President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono has created a team to fill the gaps in the KPK's leadership, but Masduki said it appeared the president had soured on the commission after one of his relatives, former central bank deputy governor Aulia Pohan, was sentenced to a jail term of four-and-a-half years for graft.

"When the police were trying to investigate the KPK, the president didn't try to stop them. I think he pushed the police to investigate the (two) commissioners without enough evidence," Masduki said, adding that it remained to be seen if the selection of replacement KPK heads would be fair.

Political analyst Wimar Witoelar said that while the KPK remains hated by many politicians and police, Yudhoyono -- who goes by the initials SBY and was re-elected this year with a strong mandate thanks in part to the KPK's strides against corruption -- remained committed to tackling graft.

"If SBY really wanted to let the KPK suffer, he wouldn't have intervened with the regulation in-lieu-of-law," he said, referring to the formation of the team to pick replacement KPK commissioners.

Indonesia is ranked the world's 126th cleanest country by Berlin-based watchdog Transparency International, on an equal pegging with countries such as Uganda and Ethiopia.

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]

Aug 30, 2009

Inside Indonesia - Not just a piece of paper

Maria Platt

mariaplatt.jpg
No need for ID: most women in rural Lombok have few interactions with officialdom
Maria Platt

Una sits in a small room at the back of one of my friends’ houses in the small village of Teduk in western Lombok. Poverty is endemic in Teduk, as in many parts of Lombok, and consequently many women like Una work odd jobs, earning about Rp10,000 (approximately $A1.30) a day to help make ends meet. While we chat over tea and snacks Una’s youngest child is sprawled across her lap.

I discover that Una has three other children from her first marriage, which ended about five years ago. When her marriage ended her husband decided that he would take the three oldest children, while Una would care for her daughter, who was still being breast fed at the time. Even though Una still sees her children from time to time, as they still live in Teduk, she misses them terribly. Una told me that along with their three oldest children, her husband also took most of the household possessions, leaving her no option but to return home to her parents’ house with little other than her youngest child.

The power of registration

With no marriage certificate, Una had little legal traction should she have wished to take her case to the religious courts, which deal with family law matters in Indonesia. While she could have applied for an isbath nikah (akin to a retrospective marriage certificate), this is costly exercise. At Rp256,000 (approximately $A34), plus the expense of a 50 kilometre round trip, this option is out of the question for a woman like Una.

Through the religious courts women have the opportunity to initiate divorce and to deal with issues such as child custody and the division of marital assets in an equitable manner. If Una had had access to the religious courts she might have been able to obtain joint custody of her other children and receive half of the assets she and her husband had acquired during their marriage.

Women like Una who don’t have their marriages registered also lack access to formal legal rights

For women like Una who do not have access to formal state law, decisions about divorce are mostly made by their husbands. In the rare instance that a woman challenges her former husband’s decision, or is brave enough to initiate divorce herself, she can approach village authorities such as the kepala dusun (hamlet head) or Tuan Guru (local Islamic leader) for assistance. Yet leaders base their advice upon local interpretations of Islam and adat, which in Lombok tend to be patriarchal in nature. So in these informal settings women’s chances of securing their marital rights are diminished. Consequently, women like Una who don’t have their marriages registered also lack access to a range of formal legal rights.

Una’s story is not unique in Lombok, where levels of marriage registration are low. It has been estimated that around 70 per cent of marriages in Lombok do not get registered. There are various reasons for this, including the highly bureaucratised nature of the process and its cost. The amount charged for a marriage certificate can be arbitrary - ranging anywhere from Rp150,000 to 600,000 (approximately $A20-80). A friend of mine who was married recently told me of how she was charged Rp600,000 for her marriage certificate. As a primary school teacher she earns only Rp200,000 (about $A26) per month and her husband earns a similar wage. As a result they are still paying off their marriage certificate and won’t receive it until they have paid in full. Therefore for people dwelling in rural Lombok, many of whom earn less than $A2 a day, even affording a marriage certificate is almost unimaginable, especially given that the extensive marriage celebrations required by adat may deplete a family’s entire savings.

Bureaucratic obstacles

Yet another major barrier for those wishing to register their marriage is the bureaucratic requirements of the state. There are two agencies that deal with marriage registrations - the Kantor Urusan Agama (KUA or Office for Religious Affairs), which handles Muslim marriage registration, and the Kantor Catatan Sipil (KCS or Civil Registration Office) for non-Muslims.

For Muslims, who make up the majority of Lombok’s inhabitants, the KUA requires one of two forms of documentation in order to register a marriage. The first, and the preferred form, is an ijazah (graduation certificate), while the other is a Kartu Tanda Penduduk (KTP or official identity card).

In Lombok, which is located in one of Indonesia’s poorest provinces, many people have had little access to formal education until recently. This means that people who are currently of marriageable age (in their late teens and early twenties) may have never been to school or progressed only to mid-primary school level. In such circumstances it is rare for someone to have a graduation certificate.

While a graduation certificate is the preferred form of identification, as it is thought to reflect most accurately a person’s name and date of birth, a KTP is also acceptable. However, not all people in rural Lombok have a KTP. The people who own a KTP are usually those engaged in formal employment or who regularly go outside their village for business, and who therefore need a KTP as a form of official identification. In Lombok, the majority of such people are men. Women tend to work in jobs that do not require travel outside the village, like petty trading or casual labour such as cutting grass for livestock feed or working in the fields. Women in these situations have almost no need for a KTP. What’s more, a KTP costs around Rp25,000 (approximately $A3.30), payable every five years - another unwanted additional cost to bear in already cash-strapped households.

Many rural residents of Lombok lack access to a formal legal identity, and so are also shut out of formal processes of marriage and divorce

The registration process also requires that both the bride and groom provide a passport size photo, which will appear in their respective marriage books. For many people living in small villages, merely obtaining the photo can be a costly exercise as it requires a return trip to the nearest photographic store, which could be a considerable distance away. Furthermore the cost of around Rp8,000 (approximately $A1) per person for a set of passport photos may be equivalent to nearly a day’s wage for people in a rural setting.

In short, the state process expects that people have a formal legal identity, which can be costly to obtain. The reality for many rural residents of Lombok, therefore, is that they lack access to a formal legal identity, and so are also shut out of formal processes of marriage and divorce.

An Indonesia-wide problem

Access to the courts for family matters is not limited to Lombok: it has been estimated that 80 per cent of Indonesians are not able to engage with the legal system, largely owing to financial constraints. A joint project conducted recently by the Indonesian religious courts and the Australian family court indicates that poverty is a major barrier for people wishing to access the religious courts, especially single mothers.

Non-registration of marriage has implications not only for the couple (especially the woman), should the marriage end in divorce. Parents need to show a marriage certificate to obtain an official birth certificate for children of the marriage. This has follow-on effects for children in terms of establishing their legal identity and their access to education, because a birth certificate is also officially required to enrol a child in school. This official requirement can be problematic for some families, even though many children without birth certificates still manage to attend school.

The afternoon is getting late, and Una has to return home to her parents’ house where she still lives, to prepare the evening meal. During our conversation Una has told me that she is getting married in two days time to a new husband who is a local of her village but now works in the neighbouring island of Sumbawa. Despite her problems with her first husband it is unlikely that Una’s second marriage will be registered either, largely because of the mismatch between the bureaucratic requirements of the state and the lives of rural women such as Una. Women like Una, whose marital rights are not guaranteed, can only hope for the best in their marriages. ii

Maria Platt (mariaplatt@hotmail.com) is a PhD student at the Australian Research Centre in Sex, Health and Society at La Trobe University.

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]