Gerindra and ‘Greater Indonesia'

Gerindra and ‘Greater Indonesia'

Prabowo’s party has deep roots in Indonesian political mythology

Aboeprijadi Santoso

Prabowo dreams of a Greater Indonesia Aboeprijadi Santoso

Grand designs thrive in times of crisis. They are often a part of reinvigorated nationalism and have resulted in populist, authoritarian regimes. Sometimes, as with Hitler, Stalin, or the Khmer Rouge, they have produced humanitarian disasters. Other times they have fizzled out or ended in debacle.

Indonesia has recently witnessed the revival of such grand designs, that of ‘Indonesia Raya’ or Greater Indonesia. Promoted in this year’s elections by the former military general, Prabowo Subianto, this idea dates back to before even the early years of Indonesian nationalism.

Dreaming of greatness

Indonesia’s history is filled with great hopes and dreams. Some it inherited from the scores of kingdoms in the archipelago. Others were born from the ashes of two great imperial powers. The Dutch dreamed romantically of a Girdle of Emeralds (Gordel van Smaragd) draped along the equator. The Japanese incorporated Indonesia in a vast ‘Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere’. Both dreams - despite the latter’s much shorter life – had great impacts on the young nation.

The newly born state in the 1940s inherited not just a legacy of colonial oppression, but also a swathe of ideas, both native and modern, that had been debated and nurtured since early in the twentieth century. The Dutch ‘ethical’ spirit from the late nineteenth century inspired the thought of modernisation. At the same time, Japan’s 1905 victory over Russia stimulated a kind of jingoistic euphoria.

Many Indonesian intellectuals in the 1930s saw fascism as a trendy idea. Some considered it a danger that could somehow turn into a ‘new hope’

The pioneering women’s champion R.A. Kartini envisaged the dawning of new hope for an entire people. Young ethnic nationalists discovered they could work together towards one single nation. The lawyer Mohammad Yamin dreamed that this nation might grow beyond the Netherlands Indies - his Yawadwipa Nusantara (Archipelago of Eight) included Peninsular Malaya. The socialist Sutan Sjahrir condemned ‘feudalism’, feared militarism, and worked for a modern democracy. Sukarno spoke of the ‘Golden Bridge’ towards a bright future. Islamists and communists held up their own utopias. Soepomo, a Dutch-educated lawyer who was a key framer of the constitution of 1945, evoked the nation as one great community (Gemeenschap), protected by the State as a benevolent Patron. Villagers, also, seemed eternally to remember the myth of the coming Ratu Adil, ‘the Just Ruler’.

Parindra and the patron state

These were the values the new republic was supposed to bring into being. None had expressed ideas of national greatness as clearly as the medical doctor Soetomo, founder in 1935 of the political party Parindra - Partai Indonesia Raya, the Greater Indonesia Party. This party admired Japan’s revivalist spirit and popularised Hitler’s fascist ideas. Parindra was a split from the movement widely seen as the pioneer of the national awakening, Boedi Oetomo. The spirit of Greater Indonesia was an important asset for the genesis and strengthening of nationhood. But it could also be distorted to provoke anti-democratic emotions.

Soepomo’s idea of the State as Patron was akin to that of Soewardi Soerjaningrat, better known as Ki Hadjar Dewantara, Indonesia’s ‘Father of Education’. Both were Dutch-educated as well as culturally conservative. They were deeply nativist – that is, oriented to Javanese tradition. Both harboured sympathies for Hitler’s leadership style. Many Indonesian intellectuals in the 1930s saw fascism as a trendy idea. Some considered it a danger that could somehow turn into a ‘new hope’. Few stood firmly against it.

Suharto’s generals appropriated Parindra’s and Soepomo’s celebration of the State-as-Great Patron to justify the New Order’s authoritarian rule

Diffuse motifs associated with the idea of Indonesia Raya can be found throughout the post-independent period. Outward-looking and expansive, they sometimes carried a chauvinistic and even megalomaniac spirit. But they were not unchallenged, and indeed they ultimately failed. Sukarno aggrandised his Guided Democracy by trying to create an alliance of Malaya, the Philippines and Indonesia that he called Maphilindo. He saw himself as a champion of all newly independent states, the New Emerging Forces. All went nowhere. Suharto’s New Order, in turn, aggressively expanded the republic only to shamefully end up in the great fiasco of East Timor. He was also badly mistaken when he went to the International Court of Justice with Malaysia in 1996 over the Sipadan-Ligitan islands. His drive to crush Aceh’s rebellion was characterised by the same spirit. His generals appropriated Parindra’s and Soepomo’s celebration of the State-as-Great Patron to justify the New Order’s authoritarian rule.

Renaissance

Back in the colonial period, the Dutch and educated Indonesians often pictured the communities as idyllic, harmonious and backward. This image was attractive to the populist Parindra. Populism in those days presumed a homogenous society, denying the very existence of rich and poor social classes.

Today another, highly spirited rightwing populist political party has emerged. Its name, Gerindra, Gerakan Indonesia Raya, the Greater Indonesia Movement, signifies its fervour for revitalising the greatness of the nation. Founded on 6 February 2008, the party is linked to ex-general Prabowo Subianto, aged 58, who is also President Suharto’s former son-in-law. Prabowo is a maverick who likes to present himself heroically. Whereas Gerindra’s spiritual predecessors in the 1930s such as Soepomo and Soewardi were strongly oriented to the Dutch and to Europe, Gerindra has a purely local orientation. But it has a rather similar dream. It is a vehicle for “Indonesia’s Renaissance”, Prabowo has said.

Prabowo’s lieutenant in Gerindra is the still-vigorous Sukarnoist Permadi. He calls Prabowo ‘Little Sukarno’. During the recent fracas over ‘cultural items’ allegedly stolen by Malaysia, Permadi aggressively suggested that Indonesia should renew Sukarno’s 1960s ‘Ganyang Malaysia’ (Crush Malaysia) campaign. And Prabowo likes him.

Prabowo’s lieutenant in Gerindra calls Prabowo ‘Little Sukarno’ and suggests that Indonesia should renew Sukarno’s 1960s ‘Crush Malaysia’ campaign

However, the party is not about reviving Sukarno-style leftism. Its core leaders are a group of politicised retired officers whose careers rose under the New Order. Their main ideology is the sacredness of the unitary state and the 1945 constitution. They have denounced the post-New Order constitutional amendments (which were designed to improve protection of human rights). They are also sceptical about the Helsinki peace pact for Aceh. Asked whether he would review the pact, Prabowo replied: “If necessary yes, we’ll see later.”

Paths to power

Prabowo dreams of a Greater Indonesia Aboeprijadi Santoso

A decade ago Prabowo was quoted as saying there were only three paths to power: Islam, the military and being close to Suharto. He had been close to all three for some time. But by the time the collapse of Suharto’s government and the subsequent reformasi intervened he had alienated too many of those forces to achieve his top ambition. Now he is back. In April’s parliamentary elections his new party reached a remarkable five per cent of the total vote. In the presidential elections of July he was running mate to Sukarno’s daughter, Megawati Sukarnoputri of the nationalist PDIP (Democratic Party of Struggle). They placed second in a three-horse race.

Prabowo adopted a chauvinistic bravado. His campaign appearances co-opted hyper-nationalist symbols, imitating Sukarno’s jargon, body language, and even his safari shirt. ‘Now I’m fighting my last battle,’ he recently said. ‘I want to lay the ground for Indonesia’s Renaissance…We have to return to Indonesia, the true one.’

Besides the red-and-white flag, Gerindra uses the mythical eagle garuda to emphasise its love for the nation and to stimulate proud feelings of unity. Once simply flat, since the New Order the garuda has changed into a three-dimensional symbol that looks bigger and more aggressive.

Prabowo has never referred to his party’s namesake Parindra, but he is undoubtedly aware of its ideas. Like Parindra more than half a century ago, Gerindra places its hope on crisis – even after Prabowo’s defeat in the presidential elections. Nevertheless, Gerindra would do well to remember that Parindra, like other fascist groupings in the Netherlands Indies, did not survive into independence. ii

Aboeprijadi Santoso (‘Tossi’) (aboeprijadi@gmail.com) is Jakarta correspondent for Radio Netherlands Worldwide (http://www.rnw.nl/ ).

The Eagle Has Crash-landed

Despite an unprecedented media campaign, Prabowo Subianto’s political comeback has fallen flat – for now

Dirk Tomsa

‘Beware! Killers surround us! We remember those who were abducted and killed. We do not forget, we do not forgive.’ An image popular among Indonesian users of Facebook

Ten years ago it seemed as if Prabowo Subianto’s political career was over before it had really begun. During the twilight days of the New Order, the former commander of the notorious special forces unit Kopassus had lost a power struggle against his arch-rival Wiranto and was subsequently dismissed from the military. Accused of involvement in the abduction of student activists and the instigation of the anti-Chinese riots in Jakarta in May 1998, the former son-in-law of ousted president Suharto considered it safer to leave the country and go into temporary hiding. In self-imposed exile in Jordan he turned his attention to business, making a fortune on the international oil and gas market and through a number of high-stake deals aided by his billionaire brother, business tycoon Hashim Djojohadikusumo.

In the meantime, Prabowo’s arch-rival from his days in the army, Wiranto, enjoyed a brief moment in the sun. Having outmaneuvered Prabowo during the turbulent days of the transition, the former adjutant of Suharto was instrumental in helping Abdurrahman Wahid to an unexpected stint at the presidency in 1999. But to Wiranto’s disappointment, his support for Wahid did not bring the desired recompense. Instead of being rewarded with the vice-presidency, he had to make do with a ministerial post. Shortly afterwards, Wahid added insult to injury when he sacked Wiranto from the cabinet. Thus, merely two years after the fall of Suharto it seemed, for a short time at least, as if there was no place for either Wiranto or Prabowo in Indonesia’s new democracy.

Two years after the fall of Suharto it seemed there was no place for either Wiranto or Prabowo in Indonesia’s new democracy

It did not take long for the two to attempt political comebacks. In 2004, Wiranto and Prabowo were both candidates in Golkar’s national convention to select a presidential candidate. Wiranto in particular invested huge amounts of money at the convention in order to secure a place in Indonesia’s first-ever direct presidential election. In the end the former commander-in-chief of the armed forces did manage to win the convention, but he failed to make it all the way to the palace, finishing third in the presidential poll. Undeterred by the defeat, Wiranto then moved on to found his own party (Hanura) and soon began preparing for the next elections in 2009.

His old foe Prabowo, meanwhile, was not just sitting idly by. In fact, it seemed as if defeat at the Golkar convention had only whetted his appetite for politics. Watching Wiranto’s activities carefully, Prabowo too began to get ready for the next elections. In contrast to his half-hearted campaign in 2004, however, this time he meant business. Assisted by a high-profile media consultancy firm from the United States, Prabowo crafted an elaborate strategy which he hoped would eventually elevate him to the highest office. The strategy consisted of three main pillars: first, mobilisation of support for his bid; second, enhancing name recognition for his organisational vehicle; and third, finding a niche in the political spectrum that he could use to distinguish himself from other candidates.

Finding the right vehicle

Prabowo’s first step was to assume control over one of Indonesia’s biggest mass organisations, the national farmers’ association HKTI (Himpunan Kerukunan Tani Indonesia). Created during the New Order as a corporatist tool for Suharto to monitor Indonesia’s millions of peasants, this organisation had descended into political oblivion after 1998, but its vague affiliation with the rural masses made it an ideal vehicle for Prabowo because it provided him with an opportunity to begin his image-building campaign by presenting himself as a champion of the poor. In December 2004 he was elected HKTI chairman with 309 out of 325 votes – never mind that he was not even a member of the association at that time.

The HKTI position provided Prabowo with valuable access to an organisational base, but with a view to the 2009 elections he needed more than the chairmanship of a mass organisation. Indonesia’s electoral rules dictate that only candidates who are nominated by political parties are allowed to contest a presidential election, so in order to avoid dependence on the goodwill of an already existing party, he decided to emulate what various other retired generals had done before him: he created a new party of his own. And so Gerindra (Movement for a Great Indonesia) was born, a party with a fierce-looking Garuda eagle on its logo (the Garuda is the centrepiece of Indonesia’s national coat of arms). From the day of its formation in February 2008, Gerindra dedicated itself almost exclusively to promoting the presidential ambitions of Prabowo Subianto.

At first sight, Gerindra appeared to be not much different from the various other parties that had been established by retired generals in recent years. Just like Edi Sudradjat’s PKPI, Hartono’s PKPB and more recently Wiranto’s Hanura, Gerindra too seemed to stand for little more than conservative nationalism imbued with a touch of New Order nostalgia. And yet, many observers were much more concerned about Gerindra than the other parties formed by retired officers. A closer look at the composition of its leadership board and its advisory council reveals why. Formally led by a largely unknown forestry professor called Suhardi, Gerindra provides a political home for a number of controversial former generals who continue to be dogged by persistent allegations of gross human rights violations. Amongst the most prominent are Gleny Kairupan, a former intelligence officer with a dubious track record in East Timor, Muchdi Purwopranyoto, who despite his exoneration by a Jakarta court is widely believed to have masterminded the murder of human rights activist Munir in September 2004, and of course Prabowo himself, whose list of alleged crimes includes abduction, torture, and instigation of large-scale anti-Chinese riots. For this reason, Gerindra and Prabowo caused particular alarm among human rights advocates, many of whom protested openly against his presidential campaign this year.

In order to dispel this image, Prabowo pursued an ingenious plan. To the disbelief of those human rights activists who now opposed his candidature, Prabowo approached some of his former victims and persuaded them to join his party. Why exactly former student activists like Desmond Mahesa or Pius Lustrilanang, and Haryanto Taslam, a former leader of Megawati Soekarnoputri’s PDI-P, all three of whom were kidnapped by Prabowo’s troops in 1998, agreed to support the presidential ambitions of their former tormentor has been the subject of much speculation. Some observers have argued that they were simply bought off while others claim they may suffer from Stockholm syndrome (a psychological condition in which victims of abductions become emotionally attached to their hostage-taker). The three men themselves have rejected all such speculation and simply maintained that after Prabowo had apologised to them, it was time to move on.

An unprecedented media campaign

For Prabowo, people like Haryano, Desmond and Pius represented important human capital that could be used in his bid for the presidency. But the real weapon in Prabowo Subianto’s struggle to polish his image was an unprecedented media offensive which in mid-2008 ushered in the second phase of his presidential campaign. While other parties were still in the planning stage, Prabowo began to inundate the Indonesian public with an unparalleled bombardment of political advertisements.

Buoyed by a self-confidence bordering on hubris, Prabowo used these advertisements to liken himself to statesmen ranging from Napoleon and Sukarno to Barack Obama

Buoyed by a self-confidence bordering on hubris, Prabowo used these advertisements to liken himself to an array of past and present statesmen, ranging from Napoleon and Sukarno to Barack Obama. All television advertisements featured the majestic Garuda eagle and consistently highlighted the alleged failure of post-Suharto administrations to realise Indonesia’s huge economic potential. To fund this media onslaught, the soldier-cum-businessman-cum-politician had to dig deep into his pockets (and those of his brother Hashim). According to a Gerindra official, the media campaign alone cost about US$100 million, leaving plenty of room for speculation about just how much more was spent on other campaign activities.

Throughout his media offensive, Prabowo portrayed himself as the only presidential contender capable of liberating Indonesia from the yoke of rural poverty, unemployment and foreign debt. So far, so predictable. What very few observers had predicted, however, was the solution Prabowo proposed for the country’s alleged malaise. Driven by the need to distinguish himself from his rivals, the man who owed his fortune largely to strategic maneuvers on global financial markets and to his connections to some of Indonesia’s most powerful elite families campaigned on a quasi-socialist platform, criticising the government’s privatisation agenda and proposing revisions of existing contracts with foreign companies such as Freeport and Exxon. Given Prabowo’s background, this may sound cynical, but the ‘anti-neoliberal’ label helped him to stand out from his rivals. And in view of the electoral success of other big-spending leftist populists like Hugo Chavez or perhaps Thaksin Shinawatra the strategy made sense, especially in times of a global financial crisis.

Was it all in vain?

So why did it not work? Even though Prabowo had implemented his campaign strategy meticulously from the start, Gerindra got less than five per cent of the vote (Wiranto’s Hanura party fared even worse, achieving only about three per cent). A number of reasons probably account for this poor result, including persistent discomfort amongst many Indonesians about Prabowo’s hardline image and his human rights record, as well as widespread apprehension about his links to the Suharto family. Taken together, these factors apparently provided a substantial deterrent for many voters. Arguably the most important reason, however, is that despite the global financial crisis the overall socio-economic conditions in Indonesia were simply not ripe for the emergence of a populist saviour.

The man who owed his fortune to strategic global financial markets and connections to some of Indonesia’s most powerful elite families campaigned on a quasi-socialist platform

Thanks largely to the government’s three-phase ‘direct cash assistance’ (BLT) program, many poorer Indonesians appear to be quite satisfied with President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono’s performance. Significantly, the third phase of the BLT program was implemented in late March 2009, which meant that merely two weeks before the election more than 18 million poor families received yet another government-sponsored cash injection of Rp 100,000 per month, to be distributed over a period of two months. In view of these measures taken by the incumbent president, it is hardly surprising that few of the millions of farmers and fisherfolk targeted by Prabowo saw a need for a radical overhaul of the economic system. Moreover, even those who may actually have seen this need were apparently reluctant to believe that the person to implement it would be, of all people, Prabowo Subianto, who, to put it lightly, is hardly famous for his philanthropy.

Another important reason for Prabowo’s failure to push Gerindra to a better result was that his campaign was essentially regressive. Despite the professional outlook of the advertisements, Gerindra appeared to be preoccupied primarily with romanticising the past rather than outlining the future. This nostalgia was epitomised in a statement by Gerindra’s deputy chairman Fadli Zon who maintained that Gerindra ‘would like to rebuild Indonesia just like how it was in the past when people gained prosperity from agriculture and fishing’. Clearly, the election result showed that very few Indonesians share this desire to go back in time. Thus, it could be argued that Prabowo may have revolutionised the style of political advertising in Indonesia, but he failed to match his impressive style with a convincing message.

So Prabowo will not become Indonesia’s next president, and neither will Wiranto. Does that mean that at long last there really is no place for these two in Indonesia’s democracy? Not quite. Despite the clear verdict at the ballot box and poor approval ratings in most opinion polls, both Prabowo and Wiranto are running as vice-presidential candidates for Megawati and Jusuf Kalla respectively. This may look like a consolation prize only, but it will ensure that the two will continue to have a place in the system for years to come. And don’t be surprised if they run for president again in 2014. ii

Dirk Tomsa (Dirk.Tomsa@utas.edu.au) is a lecturer in Asian Studies at the University of Tasmania.

Inside Indonesia 97: Jul-Sep 2009

Tabiat Buruk Prabowo Bencana Untuk Bangsa

SUARA INDONESIA RAYA (23 JUNI 2009) Prabowo Subianto, calon Wakil Presiden dari koalisi PDI Perjuangan dan Partai Gerindra dinyatakan lolos tes kesehatan oleh Tim Dokter Ikatan Dokter Indonesia (IDI) yang dipimpin dr Fahmi Idris.

Tes kesehatan ini ternyata tidak benar-benar mengecek kesehatan para calon, terutama menyangkut kesehatan jiwa mereka.

Prabowo Subianto diketahui menderita semacam kehilangan pengendalian diri dan sekarang dalam tahap penyembuhan. Ia sudah mengikuti terapi 'anger management' di Bali selama tiga tahun dan belum sembuh hingga kini.

Baru-baru ini Suryadharma Ali, Ketua Umum Partai Persatuan Pembangunan (PPP) menjadi korban peristiwa kehilangan kendali diri dari Prabowo.

Dalam sebuah rapat Koalisi Besar yang dipimpin Prabowo, di rumah Prabowo, Suryadharma menyatakan mundur dari Koalisi karena partainya memutuskan bergabung dengan Koalisi Partai Demokrat. Prabowo tiba-tiba marah dan melempar handphone ke arah Suryadharma. Lemparannya meleset.

Prabowo keluar dari ruangan, mencuci mukanya, dan kembali duduk di ruang pertemuan. Sambil menuding Suryadharma, Prabowo membentak, ''Saya paling benci pengkianat!''

Hal serupa tidak hanya dialami Suryadharma. Sekretaris pribadi Prabowo, seorang perwira TNI, pernah ditampar di depan para fungsionaris Partai Gerindra hanya karena salah menulis cek.

Ketika Prabowo masih aktif sebagai tentara, tongkat komandonya sering patah karena dipukulkan ke tubuh anak buahnya. Prabowo, ketika menjadi Komandan Jendral Kopassus, pernah memukul dan menantang duel seorang wartawan ekonomi karena menulis tentang Yayasan Kesejahteraan Korps Baret Merah.

The Candidates for Indonesia’s Future Bear a Strong Resemblance to the Past

Jakarta Globe, James Van Zorge, June 18 - When I think about how to describe the current crop of Indonesian presidential hopefuls, I have a vision of the past. All three contenders are, in their own way, creatures of Indonesia’s past. Just a decade into the reform period, the major political figures in this country all came into prominence during the Suharto era. Among them, I see one as a classic Suharto-esque businessman, another as a woman longing for a return to the glory days of her father and the third as a transitional liberal willing to break with the past but uncertain how to do so decisively.

Golkar standard-bearer and Vice President Jusuf Kalla belongs to a class of businessmen who seem to view politics as a branch of the family business. Under Suharto, there was nothing wrong with growing one’s business while supposedly serving the public. In this rarefied Manichaean world, monopolies can be a good thing and competition from outside the club is treated with contempt. This is a conservative world where the tenets of democracy might be tolerated but it is hardly a place of liberal values and policies.

For businessmen who thrived under the Suharto regime, growing an empire was predicated upon the grace of the president and his family. Rent-seeking, not competition and open markets, was the magical key for building wealth.

It is small wonder that Kalla and his cohorts wax eloquently about the Suharto years. More than once Kalla has voiced his opinion that democracy has gone too far in Indonesia. I worry that if he were to have his way, he would more than likely dismantle anticorruption agencies, place a muzzle on the media and clamp down on civil and human rights activists.

Given his personal history and values, it is no coincidence that Kalla has chosen retired Gen. (ret.) Wiranto as his running mate. At a young age, Wiranto was taken under Suharto’s wing and served faithfully as the president’s adjutant. In the eyes of Suharto and his children, Wiranto would have made a perfect successor, mostly because he could be trusted to protect the family’s interests and keep the clan firmly in power.

If you think I am exaggerating, consider this: By virtue of where they sit, crony businessmen think of democracy as an intrusion, an unnecessary import from the Western world and, given the potential stakes, which is the dissolution of an old order they came to thrive upon, something to be inherently feared. In the words of a famous liberal US Supreme Court justice, Louis Brandeis: “We can have democracy in this country or we can have great wealth concentrated in the hands of the few, but we cannot have both.”

Megawati Sukarnoputri, in contrast to Kalla, is far from being an avaricious industrialist. Neither does she dream of returning Indonesia to its Suharto-run past. But for sure, she is thinking deeply about another past — her father’s.

When I first met Megawati in 1997, I asked her about any plans she might have for a political future and what she might consider as a strategy to reach higher office. Our ensuing conversation, with her eyes swelling in pride whenever I raised the name of Sukarno, was most telling: “Of course I will one day be the president. I often have conversations with my father about that. But as far as a strategy, you Westerners don’t seem to understand. I have no need for a strategy. Instead, I rely upon something else: Factor X.”

True to her word, Megawati did eventually become president. And as far as I could tell, she certainly did not have a strategy. What she did have in mind, however, was following in her father’s footsteps, and if you listened to what she said and even the countries she visited when she was president, it was eerily in lockstep with Sukarno’s own philosophies and travels.

Today, there should be little doubt that what Megawati wants more than anything else is to build a sort of Sukarno dynasty. In that sense, she is similar to another famous woman politician, the late Benazir Bhutto of Pakistan, whose father, former Prime Minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, was, just like Sukarno, an avowed nationalist with socialist leanings who was eventually ousted by a military coup.

Unfortunately, there are also some striking dissimilarities between Megawati and Benazir. While Benazir experienced, in her own words, some of the happiest days of her life in the West during her university years and hence was decidedly pro-Western in her views, Megawati leans toward the opposite side of the aisle. One can only surmise that perhaps her dislike for the West is linked somehow to her knowledge that the United States was no friend of her father.

What, then, given her background, can the electorate expect of Megawati? There is much we know already from her previous stay in office, and many people would conclude from that experience alone that she would not prove much of a leader. Megawati claims, however, that she has learned from her past mistakes. She has also chosen a dynamic running mate, Prabowo Subianto, also a Suharto-era general, who presumably would compensate for her well-known weaknesses.

Still, one must wonder. Megawati’s life experience can’t be erased. Aloof, an avowed nationalist with a strong aversion toward the West, seemingly uninterested in and incapable of grasping the policy issues that are required of a president, and primarily driven by a dynastic impulse for power, there is little reason to believe that Megawati would be a better president if given another chance.

Finally, there is the incumbent, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono. How to describe him? I might choose a well-known political figure from the past with similarities to Yudhoyono: former US President Jimmy Carter. Much like Carter, who was also a military man, Yudhoyono’s politics are liberal. Both men are innately reserved and studious. Both are highly educated and considered to be intellectuals.

But the similarities go much deeper. Like Yudhoyono, Carter was criticized while in office for paying too much attention to details. He was also viewed as being indecisive, something which both the Jakarta elite and the electorate recognize as one of Yudhoyono’s most glaring deficiencies. Finally, Yudhoyono shares with Carter an inability to roll up his sleeves and develop the types of political relationships outside the palace grounds that would serve him well in building support for his policies.

If re-elected, many Indonesians are hopeful that, somehow, Yudhoyono will become more assertive and leave more of an imprint and legacy behind him.

Personally, I find it difficult to believe he will change very much in his ways. Adjusting policies is one thing, and there are many examples of presidents who have had second thoughts about their previous stances and took on new courses. But the weaknesses that are so apparent in Yudhoyono are not related to policy. Rather, like Carter, it is a question of character and temperament. Should we expect a mature man entering his sixth decade in life to suddenly and radically change his behavior? Of course not. As the old saying goes, what you see is what you get.



James Van Zorge is a partner in Van Zorge, Heffernan & Associates, a business strategy and government relations consulting firm based in Jakarta. He can be reached at vanheff@gmail.com.

Indonesian Presidential and Vice Presidential Candidates

The three campaigns now have their own websites. Timothy Simamora kindly provided the URLs to me via Facebook. Here they are. I've appended the Alexa traffic ranking for today in each case. The rankings add another set of numbers to public opinion polls in Indonesia. Lower numbers mean more traffic. Like most of those polls, it looks like a walkover for SBY-Boediono. Their site gets a surprising high level of traffic for an Indonesian political site.


Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono-Boediono
http://sbypresidenku.com/
Alexa ranking - 59,778

Megawati Soekarnoputri-Prabowo Subianto
http://megaprabowo.com/
Alexa ranking - 1,563,135

Jusuf Kalla-Wiranto
http://jk-wiranto-2009.com/
Alexa ranking - 3,364,705

Looks like money, and even long-established branch networks, don't conquer all. But iit remains a politics of personality system.