I woke up early on Sept. 12, 2001, to get ready for work. I put on my best suit, my only custom-made shirt, my most expensive Nordstrom tie. I shined my shoes. I was tense and nervous and did not know what to expect from my co-workers. I had, by chance, been off duty the day before, the day of the horrific attacks on the United States, and of course by late evening on Sept. 11, the names of the suspected hijackers began to come out. All were Arabic or Muslim names like mine.
Since January 2000, I had been assigned to the most important division in the U.S. Secret Service: the Presidential Protective Division, commonly known as PPD. I held a top-secret clearance, reported to the White House daily, and traveled routinely on Air Force One or Marine One with the president. I loved the experience. I had never felt discriminated against at work or socially, except for a few "terrorist" jokes. I was a welcomed and trusted member of the division.
Sept. 12 was different, though. Nineteen men had killed close to 3,000 Americans the day before in the name of my religion.
As I entered the White House, I prepared myself mentally for the verbal barrage to come. I had grown up a tough kid in Brooklyn and had been raised a proud American Muslim.
As I walked to the office for agents on the president's detail, I was intercepted by a supervisor named Ron. When he asked to speak with me, I said I had to put my equipment bag in the office and would come right back. I was trying to buy time to get ready for what might come. As I approached Ron, a tall and strong man in his early 50s, I thought, "Here it comes, stay cool."
Ron put his hand on my right shoulder and said: "Walied, I am glad you are here with us today." My defenses crumbled, and my eyes welled up at this simple act of compassion. I said thanks and excused myself.
Ron stood up as a preemptive strike to anyone who might have said something to me that day. He told me I belonged. He embodied what was great about America. As the day went on I felt ashamed of the fears I had felt earlier.
When I concluded my five-year assignment on the PPD in 2005, managers told me I had led more presidential security advance teams than any other agent since 2000. My wife and I were proud of my work and proud for a nation in which an American Muslim can achieve anything. That is America.
Today, though, American Muslims feel under siege. Too many feel the American dream is not for them. For a few, radicalization is the next step. Anti-Muslim rhetoric has reached epic proportions in broader U.S. society -- largely tolerated, rarely condemned. While "terrorism experts" cite frequent travel to Muslim countries or Internet videos as primers for radicalization, the core primer, which is largely unremarked upon, is the siege mentality surrounding American Muslims.
Many factors contribute to this mentality, including rhetoric from fringe hate groups, the demonization of Muslims by Hollywood and repeated questions of loyalty by (conservative)
commentators. Nothing is more debilitating to the psyche of American Muslims than to have those in positions of authority remain silent after such
U.S. leaders need to do much more to help bring American Muslims into the mainstream. The president and others should follow the example set by former secretary of state Colin Powell when he endorsed then-candidate Barack Obama on "Meet the Press." Reacting to assertions that Obama was Muslim, Powell asked, "Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? Is there something wrong with some 7-year-old Muslim American kid believing that he or she could be president?"
Not just American Muslims but all Americans need to see and hear examples of people like my former supervisor and Colin Powell.
The writer served as a special agent with the U.S. Secret Service from 1995 to 2007.
A porter in front of Dusit Thani, one of the grand hotels of Bangkok, as it prepared to close temporarily on Monday amid clashes between antigovernment protesters and the Thai military.
BANGKOK — Some of the city’s grandest hotels are shut and ringed with coils of glittering razor wire. Foreign visitors have deserted its temples and backpacker haunts. Military roadblocks hem in some of its famous nightspots.
Arrivals at Bangkok’s international airport are down by at least one-third, and hotel occupancy rates hover around 20 percent to 30 percent.
Thailand’s tourism industry, built on an image of gentleness, pleasure and smiles, is suffering its worst setback in decades — perhaps the worst in its history, according to tourism officials.
As scenes of the country’s violent uprising have spread around the world — bombs and bodies, street fights and gunfire — people abroad are asking whether it is safe to visit Bangkok.
The brief answer, from embassies and security experts and even some people in the tourism industry, is: probably not right now.
At least 37 people have died in five days of fighting between the military and antigovernment demonstrators, known as the red shirts. Although the two sides may now be edging toward negotiations, the potential for more violence remains.
Forty-seven nations have told their citizens to be cautious about travel to Thailand, and several, including the United States, have warned them to stay away.
The violence has been confined so far to a relatively small, though central, area of Bangkok. But the city is tense. Roadblocks, checkpoints and shutdowns of public transportation have made travel difficult. Taxi drivers refuse to take passengers to some parts of the city.
On Saturday, the United States Embassy issued an advisory that said, “All United States citizens should defer all travel to Bangkok and defer all nonessential travel to the rest of Thailand.” It said all nonemergency government workers and their families were authorized to leave.
On Tuesday, the Tourism Authority of Thailand issued its own advisory, saying, “Visitors and tourists are advised to be vigilant, follow news developments, exercise extra caution and avoid areas covered by the declaration of a severe emergency situation” — areas that include not only the capital, Bangkok, but also 21 provinces.
In fact much of Bangkok is peaceful, as are virtually all parts of the provinces covered in the advisory, and many Thais are disturbed to see their country portrayed as a place of violence.“When you get out from those areas of political turmoil, things seem to move as smoothly as ever,” said Korakot Punlopruksa, a travel writer and photographer. “We still live peacefully, we still love good food, and the sea is still beautiful.”
Thais try to break away from thoughts of the conflict, she said.
“Otherwise, we would go crazy.”
On Khaosan Road, a low-budget haven that is far from the fighting, the calm weighed like a heavy cloud over half-empty bars and souvenir shops and hostels. Rows of three-wheeled tuk-tuk taxis stood idle in front of empty Internet cafes and foot-massage parlors.
“It’s annoying,” said Muk Singh, 50, the proprietor of a tailor shop called Novo Fashion, speaking of the political violence. “It’s affecting us. We have expenses to meet and rent to pay.”
Most visitors seemed to shrug off the city’s tensions.
“We went to the train station today to buy tickets, and we saw soldiers with guns and police on barricades and SWAT teams,” said Jake Frieda, 19, from Britain, who is traveling before he attends college. “But I think they’re not bothering tourists. They’re leaving tourists alone.”
On Soi Cowboy, a street filled with bars where women dance in skimpy outfits, Bobby Edwards, 50, a retiree from Britain, said he had come here rather than to the more famous Patpong Road because of the protests.
“Patpong is the sex entertainment center of Bangkok,” he said. “The red shirts have basically closed it down because it’s located near of the center of their protests.”
Rebecca Hinckley, 33, a legal secretary from Ireland, said she had been terrified Saturday night when she had found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Two bombs went off, and we started running,” she said. “We could hear the crowds coming towards us, we could hear gunfire, we just started running like crazy. Everybody was very, very great to us. They were shouting, ‘Run, run, run!’ They were running with us.”
But still, she added: “I love Thailand. I still feel safe here. Unfortunately we were stupid enough to be out walking last night. It seems like everywhere else is quite normal.”
Tourism, one of Thailand’s most sophisticated and successful industries, accounts for 6 percent or 7 percent of the country’s economy. Twenty percent of employment in Thailand is directly or indirectly linked to tourism, according to the Thailand National Statistical Office.
Two weeks ago, before the worst of the violence erupted, Tourism and Sports Minister Chumpol Silapa-archa estimated that the number of tourists would slide by 10 percent, to 12.7 million this year, from 14.1 million last year. Earlier, officials had projected a rise to 15.5 million.
Charoen Wanganonanond, a spokesman for the Federation of Thai Tourism Associations, told The Bangkok Post: “It’s hard to say what will happen. What is certain is that the recovery process will be long and costly. This is the worst crisis ever faced in the history of the Thai tourism industry.”
Bangkok is already planning its clean-up operation once the protesters move out of the high-end shopping area they have occupied. The city administration said it would clean roads and sewers and water mains, remove garbage and bring in 1,000 monks to chant and accept alms.
Surveillance cameras, disabled by the protesters, will be repaired.
TOKYO — Twitter is set to get a big boost in Japan, one of its biggest and fastest-growing markets, after the Japanese cellphone carrier Softbank on Tuesday announced new handsets designed to link to the microblogging site, part of a major effort by Softbank to get a piece of America’s tech savvy.
Twitter has taken off in a big way here in the past two years, fanned by media exposure and the use of the service by a flurry of celebrities: Prime Minister Yukio Hatoyama tweets frequently, as does the astronaut and national hero Soichi Noguchi, who tweets from the International Space Station.
The number of unique users in Japan surged from 521,000 in April 2009 to 7.52 million in March, a 15-fold increase, according to the technology ratings service Nielsen Online Japan. Figures show Twitter is fast catching up to Japan’s biggest social networking site, Mixi, which had about 10.8 million unique users in March. An analysis by Semiocast, based in Paris, in February found 14 percent of the millions of tweets per day worldwide are in Japanese.
Twitter’s reach in Japan — the percentage of Internet users who have used the service — is about 12.3 percent, higher than the service’s reach of 10.2 percent in the United States, according to Nielsen. The service trumps Facebook, another American social networking site that has made a foray into Japan, which only has about 1.4 million users in the country, or less than 1 percent of its global membership.
“Twitter has seen tremendous growth all around the world in the past year, but in particular we’ve seen outstanding growth in Japan,” Evan Williams, chief executive of Twitter, said via a live link from the company’s headquarters in San Francisco at a Softbank news conference here. “It’s become one of our biggest and most important countries.”
“We believe Twitter is poised for even greater growth given the tremendous usage of keitai in Japan, and because Twitter has always been focused on the mobile, cellphone experience,” Mr. Williams added, using the Japanese word for cellphone.
Softbank, Japan’s fastest-growing cellphone carrier, with about 22 million subscribers, has been pushing Twitter as a new way to get Japanese hooked on its mobile data services. Softbank, which is the sole carrier of the iPhone in Japan, also runs the country’s most popular search engine and biggest Internet provider, and recently won exclusive rights to bring the iPad to Japan.
Softbank’s founder and chief executive, Masayoshi Son, has been one of Twitter’s biggest fans, tweeting enthusiastically, posting frequent replies to questions from followers and urging all of Softbank’s employees to tweet. He uses Twitter even from his bathtub, he claimed, using an iPhone and a Ziploc bag.
“Twitter has changed my life, my lifestyle,” he said. Japan is in fact leapfrogging older sites like Facebook to register directly to Twitter. “That’s why it’s experiencing explosive growth here in Japan,” Mr. Son said.
The service has benefited from a certain kind of herd mentality in Japan.
“Whenever Twitter celebrities are introduced on TV, tens of thousands of Japanese start to use it,” said Nobuyuki Hayashi, a Japan-based technology expert and author of three books on Twitter. In cities like Tokyo, where many people live alone and inviting friends over is rare, a lot of people may have been craving conversation partners they are now finding on Twitter, he said.
Another big factor is the compact nature of the Japanese script means 140 characters allows for more substantial and complex posts. The word “internationalization,” for example, takes up just 3 characters in Japanese.
But there are plenty of more mundane tweets, often reflecting the nation's love of cuisine. “Midnight ramen now,” read a recent post by the user @ico390, followed by a link to a picture of noodles snapped on a cellphone.
Softbank also has a 30 percent stake in the Silicon Valley video streaming site Ustream, a service Mr. Son said he hoped would encourage users to tweet links to videos as well as photos.
Usage is especially high among Japanese in their 20s and 30s, is concentrated in big cities and about 44 percent of all users have tweeted from their cellphones, according to a 2010 survey of 5,500 Japanese by the Tokyo-based Fujitsu Research Institute.
Computer users connect to Twitter for an average of 4.4 hours a day, while those who use handsets log in for 2.3 hours, according to a separate study of 10,500 users by Ascii Media Works.
Softbank’s Twitter widget, or embedded application, will display an icon on the welcome screen of 14 cellphones from Softbank that lets users jump directly to a customized Twitter site, according to Softbank. Many phones also come with touch panels, TV receivers, solar cells and waterproofing.
“We expect to start growing faster than ever here with increased awareness of Twitter,” said Kevin Thau, Twitter’s mobile platform director, visiting Japan for Softbank’s announcement. “People tend to explore when they get new phones. It’s great for discoverability,” he said. The official Twitter widget on Softbank, he said, is hopefully “the start of a trend around the world.”
The growth in Japan adds to the good news at Twitter, which said last month that it had 106 million registered users and was adding new users at the rate of 300,000 a day.
Twitter’s service in Japan has long led the way in a quest by the company to take advantage of its rapid growth for revenue. Since Twitter’s Japan site went online in April 2008, it has carried ads — something the U.S site did not have. Companies from Sony to Toyota have set up corporate Twitter accounts.
Last month, Twitter finally unveiled an advertising program in the United States that shows up when users search for keywords that advertisers have bought to link to their ads.
REFORMS marginalized the military that was dominant during the New Order era. The climax took place 10 years ago when TNI Commander in Chief, Admiral Widodo A.S., affirmed the military’s willingness to abandon politics. Thereafter, various reforms of the military institutions have been carried out.
Governance During the New Order, military personnel on active duty were appointed as cabinet ministers. Only during the Habibie days were ministers from the military given two options: retire from the military to remain a member of the cabinet or return to their units. Here is the number of ministers from the military.
Development Cabinet I: 8 (all on active duty) Development Cabinet II: 6 (all on active duty) Development Cabinet III: 15 (14 active + 1 retiree) Development Cabinet IV: 17 (4 active + 13 retirees) Development Cabinet V: 14 (4 active + 10 retirees) Development Cabinet VI: 10 (4 active + 6 retirees)
During the New Order, at least 83 people from the military were appointed governors.
Pelita I (1969-1974) 19 persons Among others West Java Governor Solihin G.P. and Jakarta Governor Ali Sadikin
Pelita II (1974-1979) 20 persons Among others Jakarta Governor H Tjokropranolo and Bali Governor Soekarmen
Pelita III (1979-1983) 16 persons Among others West Java Governor Aang Kunaefi Kartawiria and Central Java Governor Supardjo Rustam
Pelita IV (1983-1988) 14 persons Among others Central Java Governor Muhammad Ismail and East Java Governor Wahono
Pelita V (1988-1993) 12 persons Among others East Java Governor Soelarso, Central Java Governor Muhammad Ismail, and West Java Governor Yogi S. Memed
Pelita VI (1993-1998) Among others Jakarta Governor Soerjadi Soedirdja and Sutiyoso
DPR The number of “free” seats for the military in the DPR was slashed following the reforms. The breakdown:
1960: 35 seats from 283 seats in the DPR-GR 1966: 36 seats from 283 seats in the DPR-GR 1966: 39 seats (16%) from 242 seats in the DPR-GR 1967: 43 seats (12%) from 350 seats in the DPR-GR 1968: 75 seats (16%) from 460 DPR seats 1972: 75 seats (16%) from 460 DPR seats, 155 in the MPR 1977: 75 seats (16%) from 460 DPR seats, 155 in the MPR 1982: 75 seats (16%) from 460 DPR seats, 155 in the MPR 1987: 100 seats (20%) from 500 DPR seats, 51 in the MPR 1992: 100 seats (20%) from 500 DPR seats, 50 in the MPR 1997: 75 seats (15%) from 500 DPR seats, 38 in the MPR 1999: 38 seats (7%) from 500 DPR seats, 14 in the MPR
The Nature of Palace-Cilangkap Relations
Four presidents after Suharto took different policies toward the military. Radical changes were made during the administration of Abdurrahman Wahid who was in power for only one and a half years.
HABIBIE ADMINISTRATION He made the initial policy to separate the military from the police. The Armed Forces of the Republic of Indonesia (ABRI) is changed into the Indonesian Military (TNI). The military also severed organizational ties with Golkar and affirmed neutrality during the 1999 General Elections.
ABDURRAHMAN WAHID ADMINISTRATION He separated the post of Defense Minister from ABRI Commander’s post and appointed civilian academic Juwono Sudarsono as Defense Minister. He carried out the separation of the National Police from the TNI.
During the Abdurrahman Wahid administration the Coordinating Agency to Support the Strengthening of National Stability (Bakorstanas) and the Special Research Institute (Litsus) are abolished. The army domination over the TNI Commander post is abolished by appointing Admiral Widodo A.S.
MEGAWATI SOEKARNOPUTRI ADMINISTRATION She had no clear direction in putting the military in order, as seen from, among other things, the appointment of Matori Abdul Djalil who was not capable of becoming the Defense Minister. The post was left vacant for a long time after Matori suffered a stroke. The military had considerable influence over Megawati’s decision-making process, especially in attempts to solve the Aceh conflict.
SUSILO BAMBANG YUDHOYONO ADMINISTRATION There have been no radical changes in matters of reorganizing the military. Attempts to settle the TNI business issues have not been finalized either.
1999
Cilangkap expresses the New Paradigms on TNI’s Sociopolitical Roles:
Changing its position and methods; the military should not necessarily be at the forefront at all times
Changing its concept from occupying into influencing
Changing the direct influencing method into indirect influencing method
Willing to act together when making important state and government decision-making efforts
Abolishment of Central and Regional Sociopolitical Council
Changing the Sociopolitical Staff into Territorial Staff. Chief of Sociopolitical Staff is changed into Chief of Territorial Staff
Liquidating ABRI Functionalism Staff, ABRI Community Security and Order, and ABRI Functionalism Development Board
Abolishing ABRI Functionalism through retirement decision or change in status
Assignment of soldiers outside their structural or functional positions in the Defense and Security Department/ABRI shall be designated as a change in status into civilian civil servants or retirees
Severance of organizational ties with Golkar and keeping the same distance with all the existing political parties
TNI commitment and neutrality consistency during the general elections
2000 Separation of the National Police from the Armed Forces, and ABRI becomes TNI by virtue of President Abdurrahman Wahid’s Decree No. 89/2000
2004
Abolishing TNI/National Police factions in the House of Representatives (DPR)
Commitment to terminate military business activities: within five years, the government should take over all the business activities directly and indirectly owned and managed by the TNI
The TNI gave up its dual function. The TNI/Police Faction left earlier than the People’s Consultative Assembly (MPR) deadline.
... The words dual function make no more sense. Once again we’re back to defense/security duties. The TNI/Police are returning to professions...
THE verses marked the end of assignments of generals in Senayan. The poem entitled Pamit (Goodbye) was read out by Maj. Gen. Kohirin Suganda Saputra in the House of Representatives (DPR)/MPR building. Kohirin acted as spokesman for the TNI/Police faction in the September 24, 2004 session. All members of the MPR promptly rose from their seats and warmly applauded.
In the final session of MPR members for the 1999-2004 term, the TNI/Police faction was present in Senayan for the last time. The divorce between the military/police and Senayan was based on the Decree of the MPR No. VII/2000 on the role of the TNI and Police. The decree was endorsed on August 18, 2000. In the same year, the MPR also applied the separation between the military and police.
Pursuant to the MPR decree, TNI and police members no longer have the right to vote and be elected as of the 2004 General Elections. In compensation, the TNI/Police faction was still allowed to remain until 2009 so it could take part in policy making through the MPR. And this faction seemed to leave sooner than the deadline set in the decree. The TNI/Police said goodbye a week after the second phase of the 2004 presidential election.
In his speech, Kohirin said the decision meant the military’s determination to abandon practical politics. Soldiers would specialize themselves in their profession as apparatus of the state and executor of state defense and security. “It’s not due to pressure from any party,” assured Kohirin.
The faction of TNI and Police appeared on June 25, 1960 according to Presidential Decree No.156/1960 on the membership of the Mutual Assistance House of Representatives and the package of political legislation. The military and police always got “free” MPR/DPR seats until 2004.
When the New Order was born, the DPR provided 100 seats for the Indonesian Armed Forces faction. The number of seats in the DPR was reduced to 75 based on the decree of the 1993 MPR General Assembly. In the debate over the bill on structures and positions of the MPR, the DPR, and the Regional House of Representatives (DPRD) in 1999, the soldiers’ free seats were again questioned by some factions.
The government in the draft debate proposed 55 seats. The TNI/Police faction in the same discussion offered 40 seats. The United Development Party faction recommended 2 percent soldiers in Senayan or 10 of the total of DPR members. The Development Functionaries faction allotted 25 seats for soldiers.
The book SBY Sang Demokrat (SBY the Democrat) says Territorial Chief of Staff Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono held an internal meeting to deal with seat allocation. They agreed to reduce the seat number by 50 percent or 38 seats.
Yudhoyono, also a spokesman for the TNI/Police faction, lobbied several factions for the 38 proposed. Finally, the MPR approved the total of 38 as stipulated in Law No. 4/1999 on the structures and position of the MPR, the DPR, and the DPRD.
Outside Senayan, the pressure for military reform was mounting. At a meeting in Ciganjur in 1998, Amien Rais, Akbar Tandjung, Abdurrahman Wahid and Megawati suggested that the presence of generals in Senayan should be until 2004. Public demos also earnestly demanded that the military return to barracks.
At a hearing with the Ad Hoc Committee of the MPR Working Body in February 2000, TNI Commander Admiral Widodo A.S. stated the military was ready to withdraw from Senayan in 2004. The TNI staff meeting on April 19-20, 2000 at last decided the military exit from politics by eliminating the dual function. Commander Widodo reported the meeting’s seven-point conclusion to President Abdurrahman Wahid.
The conclusion created a new military paradigm that led to a more pronounced departure from politics. The clear-cut statement of military leaders was not directly proportional to the consensus in Senayan. The MPR draft decree on the role of the military and police still allowed soldiers the opportunity to sit longer in Senayan.
Article 5 of the draft specified the military’s participation in policy determination through the MPR. In the plenary session in August 2000, the provision in the article was added by “no later than 2009”. It was meant as compensation because the military would have no more right to vote and be elected.
The grace period for soldiers faced no significant constraint in Senayan. At the plenary session to endorse the article, only one member lodged a protest. Hartono Marjono (deceased) from the Crescent Star Party faction presented a note of objection and rejected the extension of military assignments until 2009.
In his view, the reform demanded that the TNI’s assignment term be terminated in 2004. Harjono said the article in the decree was mistaken and unresponsive to public aspirations. “I can’t accept it if the TNI/Police later become a target of public denouncement,” he stated as he read out his objection.
The MPR decree kept going. Interruptions, said Speaker Amien Rais, would not in the least reduce the provision already agreed upon. “It’s surprising,” said former TNI/Police faction member Lt. Gen. Agus Widjojo. “The political elite even maintained the TNI until 2009.”
At an annual session in 2002, the TNI/Police faction sped up the divorce from Senayan. In a faction internal lobby, Agus Widjojo talked to Commander in Chief Gen. Endriartono Sutarto. Agus said the military should hasten the withdrawal from Senayan. “If we do it now, we will depart honorably,” added Agus. Gen. Sutarto agreed and asked for the maintenance of TNI’s honor.
The hastened decision was considered too abrupt. Former Army Chief of Staff Tyasno Sudarto said the attempt to withdraw soldiers from the MPR/DPR was urged by foreign forces. According to him, the military should have remained in the MPR as group delegates. “What happened was the domination of external forces through globalization,” he added.
The military was determined to return to barracks and become professional. In the 2004 annual session, the TNI/Police faction did say goodbye. Kohirin read the verse: …we say goodbye with 10 fingers on the chest....
The military headed Jember University for two decades. The intention was to absorb campus political upheavals.
THOUSANDS of people thronged the main roads and town square of Jember, East Java. Crowds of demonstrators were yelling “Hang Utrecht!”. In the middle of 1964, they protested against Secretary of the Dean of the Law School of Brawijaya University, Jember Branch, Dr Ernst Utrecht, who instructed the dissolution of the Islamic Students Association (HMI) in his school.
The stance of the chief adviser of the Indonesian National Students Movement (GMNI) was seen as a way of strengthening the domination of GMNI at the college that was later rechristened Jember University. A senior lecturer of the campus, Sumaryono, 73, related that the mass protest known as the Utrecht Incident was an explosion of the strong friction between students’ organizations. “These organizations were suspicious of each other,” said the 1964 law graduate of Jember University.
Sumaryono indicated that Utrecht was then referred to as an Indonesian Nationalist Party (PNI) cadre sympathizing with the Indonesian Communist Party. He was even said to be a patron of the leftist Indonesian Students Movement Center. According to Sumaryono, noticing a lecturer like Utrecht, Tawang Alun Foundation as university founder promptly invited soldiers to enter the campus after the September 30, 1965 Movement broke out for the elimination of communist sympathizers.
Tawang Alun Foundation sponsored by Jember Regent R. Soedjarwo set up a private college, Tawang Alun University. In January 1963, Tawang Alun became a state university after being turned into the Jember branch by Brawijaya University. In fact the central government appointed Jember District Military Commander Lt. Col. Winoto as rector, but foundation executives silently urged their member, R. Achmad, to abandon the post of University Presidium Chairman and give up his seat to Winoto.
The removal of Achmad was inseparable from the changing political constellation, when PNI was declining and the army dominating. “Achmad was a PNI member,” said Sumaryono. However, entering the New Order, the military was not leaving Jember University. After Winoto, the campus in Tegalboto was for two decades headed by soldiers: Lt. Col. Soedi Hardjo Hoedojo, Lt. Col. Soetardjo, and Lt. Col. Warsito. “Only Winoto was still active while the other three were retirees,” he added.
The military rectors made little academic change. But in campus political affairs, their moves were very apparent particularly with the introduction of the Campus Normalization policy. They banned the activities of organizations like GMNI and HMI on campus and programs of a political nature. “Students’ activities required the consent of university leaders,” said Assistant Rector for Student Affairs of Jember State University Andang Subahariyanto.
Andang, a 1983 alumnus of Jember University, also remembered how the campus library was rid of books blacklisted by the government, including the works of Pramoedya Ananta Toer. Arif Wibowo, a GMNI activist now a House member from the Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle faction, added lecturers once active in both organizations were mostly also removed.
After 20 years under the military, lecturers demanded university management be returned to civilians. “The era has changed and we have also had good human resources with some doctors,” said Sumaryono. Col. Warsito was the last military rector on Jember campus. In 1987, Dr Simanhadi replaced Warsito. Andang noted the numbers of schools and departments had since increased, lecturers sent abroad for studies, and students allowed to discuss latest issues.
Jember was only one of several state campuses with military rectors. Brig. Gen. Eri Soedewo in 1966 was named coordinator of state colleges in East Java. At the same time, he served as Presidium Chairman of Brawijaya University, Malang; Acting Rector and Dean of the Law School of Airlangga University, Surabaya; Presidium Chairman of the Teachers’ Training Institute (IKIP), Malang; and of IKIP Surabaya.
The same was true of Diponegoro University, Semarang. Based on the university’s official website, in 1965 Col. Soewondo held the post of assistant rector for student affairs, in cooperation with Semarang City Military Commander Col. Munadi. They were assigned to sterilize the campus from those seen as having a communist slant.
Historian Asvi Warman Adam recorded the September 30, 1965 incident indeed became soldiers’ entry gate to campuses. “They argued there were many arrests so various campus positions were vacant,” he said. Actually not all soldiers joining campuses were active officers, as some academics also became soldiers after compulsory military training. But they had the same mission. “It was to purge campuses of leftist people,” he added.
All high-ranking officials, including prospective regional heads, required the consent of Suharto. It was a “business” opportunity for his close circles.
ONE day, in September 1968.
SOEMITRO was summoned by Suharto—while in his early years in power.
+ “You should get prepared to replace Kartakusuma,” said the President.
Kartakusuma held the office of Defense and Security Chief of Staff with the rank of lieutenant-general. Soemitro was dazed and turned down the offer. Suharto had earlier talked to him about this. At the time Soemitro proposed three names: Lt. Gen. Mokoginta, Vice Admiral Sudomo, and Maj. Gen. H.R. Dharsono.
But Suharto insisted.
+ “No. You should be the one to replace Kartakusuma. Be prepared.”
In March in the following year, Soemitro was installed as chief of staff, his rank promoted to lieutenant-general.
Twelve years later, in 1994, Soemitro launched his autobiography entitled Soemitro. He writes, whenever somebody was wanted to occupy a position, President Suharto would make sure it was realized.
Suharto wanted loyal people around him, loyal to himself and to the dual function. Therefore, he always wanted to choose his “representatives” in various fields of operation himself. Most of them were active soldiers.
The same was true in selecting regional heads. According to former TNI Deputy Commander Fachrul Rozi, in practice, regional heads were actually selected by the TNI Commander in Chief. But the final decision remained in Suharto’s hands. “I don’t know much about the standard mechanism, perhaps the TNI Commander offered names to Pak Harto,” Fachrul told Tempo.
It was said that if Pak Harto replied “yes”, the names were accepted. But if Suharto promptly spoke of something in Javanese that meant more or less: “Well, I haven’t heard of the names yet, ‘A’,” it implied the commander had to find others.
Former TNI Territorial Chief of Staff Agus Widjojo said the implementation of the dual function by Suharto shifted considerably from the concept envisioned by Gen. Nasution. Originally, the dual function was designed as a security and social defense force. However, under Suharto, it became a security and sociopolitical defense force. “The reason was that without controlling politics, the TNI could not do much through policies considered good for the people,” added Agus.
Still, Fachrul Rozi saw the appointment of regional heads by Suharto—mostly being active soldiers—as good enough. At least, in his view, there were no bad leaders. “The persons named must have been good as they came from a long selection,” he continued. “If they later turned out to be bad, they would be replaced by their superiors,” Fachrul noted.
The TNI’s political line in the Suharto era, said Fachrul, remained unchanged: state politics. The problem was its contrary application. The public officials were not chosen by society but instead named by Suharto. “If I said there used to be positive leadership, it’s because the men were good compared with some bad ones elected today,” he indicated.
Trying to understand Suharto’s “thought,” Fachrul assumed that it was purposely done to ensure stability that became the main point of the President’s political guideline. “The development trilogy was stability, growth and equity. Stability came first,” he pointed out.
Undermining civil sovereignty, Suharto’s power to name regional heads also allowed his close circles the opportunity to do “business.” An example many people still remember is the bribery case of the Bantul Regent. It’s the case that allegedly led to the death of a journalist of the Bernas daily in Yogyakarta, Fuad Muhammad Syafruddin, on August 16, 1996.
Reportedly, for his reelection as regent, Sri Roso Sudarmo, then an army artillery colonel, bribed Dharmais Foundation owned by Suharto with Rp1 billion. This story circulated in an anonymous letter in the Bantul regency council at the time. Syafruddin wrote the story in his paper.
During the dual-function practice in the Suharto period, said Fachrul, many TNI officers disagreed and deemed it excessive. Nonetheless, as Suharto was too strong, none of them dared to oppose.
Moreover, Suharto knew very well how to “muffle” those attempting to shake him. He unhesitatingly threatened the circles regarded as undermining his power: in September 1989, in a flight aboard a DC-10 to Yugoslavia, Suharto replied to journalists’ questions about the succession of national leadership, which was then controversial in the country. And Suharto stated on the plane that he would beat up those trying to replace him unconstitutionally. “If it’s done unconstitutionally, by political leaders as well as generals, I say, I’ll beat them up,” he said laughingly.
The power of Suharto to bring the “green uniform” to the government was not limited to regional heads. The military also controlled executive positions of lucrative enterprises, like Pertamina and Bulog, besides strategic departments. The “military corps” filled various posts from minister, director-general, inspector-general, to ambassador. In the early New Order period, 22 of the 26 governors were soldiers. Starting 1967, soldiers were given 47 free seats in the House.
Regional House of Representatives (DPRD) seats were also dominated, though in some cases very disproportionally. For instance, the seven DPRDs in East Timor had all their speakers coming from the Indonesian Armed Forces (ABRI), with nobody from the region, and the principle of representation was least realized.
But what did Suharto say about the dual function? In his state address before the House, August 16, 1980, Suharto stressed that ABRI was purposely involved in politics for the reform of political life in the country. “Particularly to create stable and dynamic political life and development implementation,” he said.
Suharto once might also be aware that he had by far gone off course. On March 23, 1981, he affirmed ABRI’s functional assignments should not lead to the placement of ABRI personnel to non-ABRI sectors. But this affirmation was not followed up by concrete improvements.
The statement about the “ABRI functionaries” turned out to be only realized seven years later. Gen. Rudini, as Minister of Home Affairs during 1988-1993, finally reduced the percentage of regional executives coming from the military. Yet the number discounted was very slight, from 50 percent to 41 percent.
Only after Suharto stepped down did the government’s political role fully return to civilians. The TNI voluntarily assumed the part only two years after Suharto toppled from the presidency.
Fachrul may be right that in fact many TNI officers were against the outrageous dual function and wished to introduce a change. But they were scared of Suharto.
The idea of dual function came into being following independence. It was the desire to wield power in the name of maintaining stability.
JUST like the ups and downs of sea waves, the journey of the military in Indonesia has repeatedly changed course. Not only taking up arms, they have also pervaded the civilian domain. The war of independence opened the door for soldiers to play various roles. “Don’t forget that independence started from the struggle being waged by the militias,” said Lt. Gen. (ret) Agus Widjojo, the former Chief of Territorial Staff of the Indonesian Military (TNI), last week.
According to this Director of the National Institute for Democracy Governance, these militias constituted the armed wings of political struggle. For instance, there was the Indonesian Socialist Youth (Pesindo), the armed wing of the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI); Hizbullah from Islamic forces; the Pioneer Front (Barisan Pelopor); and so on. The ones that were military in nature and truly the forerunner of the TNI are former members of the KNIL (Royal Netherlands Indies Army) and Peta (Pembela Tanah Air—Defenders of the Motherland—formed by the Japanese occupation forces). These components were incorporated into a professional army.
Following the proclamation of independence, there were three main founders of the Unitary Republic of Indonesia, namely former students from Western Europe who wanted liberal-parliamentary democracy, freedom fighters at home such as Bung Karno, and the armed fighters. When seeking agreement, the armed fighters did not want to be left alone in setting up a state. “Some lost their legs and arms, lost their relatives and friends,” said Agus.
On October 5, 1945, a government notice was issued to form the People’s Security Army (TKR). Former KNIL major, Urip Sumohardjo, set up the highest TKR headquarters in Yogyakarta. At its first conference on November 12, 1945, Soedirman was elected the Supreme Commander/Minister for People’s Security.
To enable the TKR to become an obedient tool of the state, on January 25, the government issued an announcement to change TKR into the Army of the Republic of Indonesia (TRI), the only military organization of the country. On May 5, 1947 there was a Presidential Decree calling for the unification of the TRI and the militias into one army. Therefore, from June 3, 1947 the TNI had officially been founded.
Soedirman was a genuine military man with no political ambitions or desire for power. There was no dual function concept in him. When Sukarno-Hatta were arrested by the Dutch, and the Indonesian capital was occupied in December 1948 through the second Dutch Aggression, Soedirman continued with guerrilla warfare. “With or without the government,” he declared at that time. Abdul Haris Nasution, as Commander of the Java Command, imposed a military government for the whole of Java.
Ulf Sundhaussen, in his book Indonesia’s Military Politics 1945-1967: Toward ABRI Dual Function, writes about Soedirman’s anti-political attitude. Early in his leadership, every soldier was forbidden to become a member of a political party. “At that time, the concept was to fill the power vacuum so that the nation continued to survive,” said Fachrul Razi, TNI Deputy Commander during Abdurrahman Wahid’s presidency.
During the era of President Sukarno, the political system created “equality.” The TNI, particularly the army, gradually became a political force. Eventually they were able to reject the President’s policy while regrouping political forces. “Not because they were rebellious, but because they saw each other as comrades in arms in seizing the independence.”
During the republic’s infancy there was no democratic control yet. Everything was done in terms of comrades in arms. Later there grew mutual suspicion between the army and the politicians. Balance of power kept changing until Nasution convinced Bung Karno to disband the Constituent Assembly and to return to the 1945 Constitution (UUD 45). “There was the TNI, especially the army, that entered the picture with the ticket as group representatives,” said Agus.
In 1958, General Nasution said the army could not be like that. A middle way was taken: The TNI, particularly the army, would not run the government as a military regime but they were not a dead instrument in the hands of politicians either. “Here was the entry point into dual function during President Sukarno’s era,” said Agus Widjojo.
In November 1958, Nasution as the Army Chief of Staff affirmed that the TNI whose name was changed to the Republic of Indonesia Armed Forces (ABRI) needed to be included in building the state. As a functional group, ABRI could enter the political sphere.
Nasution, in his book Indonesian National Army points out the position and the role of the combat forces in a state so that they were able to contribute to ensure stability. As Army Chief of Staff, he introduced this concept at the National Military Academy in November 1958. The essence is that the army involvement in building a state is not intended to seize power, rather to support stability.
This concept continued with President Sukarno’s decision to issue the decree to return to the 1945 Constitution on July 5, 1959. The role of ABRI as a functional group plus a sociopolitical force received a constitutional foundation. ABRI succeeded in becoming a military tool as well as a tool for controlling Bung Karno.
In 1962, ABRI formed a military command at every subdistrict (koramil). The next year at every village a village-developing non-com (babinsa) was set up. ABRI also tried to influence public opinion. Then the dailies Angkatan Bersenjata and Berita Yudha came out. At campuses, student regiments emerged one after the other.
During the era of the New Order, the dual function was interpreted as subordination to President Suharto. Suharto’s dual function was implemented even further away from Nasution’s dual function concept. “It was in Pak Harto’s interest to expand the TNI role which he said was useful to the highest political force,” said Agus Widjojo.
Not everyone within the TNI was happy with the scrapping of dwi fungsi. Conservative officers accused the reformists of being American lackeys.
DECEMBER 1999: an internal conflict within the Indonesian Military (TNI) was coming to a head, triggered by a plan by the East Timor Human Rights Violations Commission to question a number of army generals, including Gen. Wiranto, then Minister for Political & Security Affairs.
During a visit to the headquarters of the 6th Army Infantry Brigade in Solo, Central Java in mid-December 1999, Lt. Gen. Djaja Suparman, Chief of the Army Strategic Command, called the plan “hurting the feelings of the military.” If the plan went through, he warned, the rank and file of the military would run amok.
Gen. Djaja’s statement drew strong reactions. Maj. Gen. Agus Wirahadikusumah, Commander of the Wirabuana Military Command VII said: “No, it’s not true, the rank and file are not soldiers serving the interests of certain generals,” he said. “A soldier’s loyalty goes to the people and the nation.”
The war of words between Suparman and Wirahadikusumah reflected the split within the military. The mutual recriminations were widely reported by the media, something unheard of under the New Order.
Many were deeply concerned with the then ongoing conflict within the military. Lt. Gen. Agum Gumelar, then the Minister of Transportation, acknowledged such a conflict was not new in the past, but, “there had always been then a way to resolve the differences.”
With the fall of the New Order in May 1998 the military entered a new era of reformasi. Senior officers within the military had to make a quick decision: adjust to the changing situation and reform the military or be on the defensive and risk going against the current.
The roots of the conflict lay in a much more fundamental issue: dwi fungsi, the dual function of the military as a defense and security force and a social and political force in the life of the nation.
Suparman, a loyalist close to Wiranto, was viewed as representative of the conservatives within the military who wanted a gradual change of the social and political role of the military. Wirahadikusumah, on the other hand, was a progressive reformist who wanted the military to end its social and political role and “return to barracks.”
A month before the conflict came into the open, Wirahadikusumah released a book titled Indonesia Baru dan Tantangan TNI (A New Indonesia and the Challenges to the TNI), a compilation of articles written by army officers, graduates of the military academy, class of 1973, such as Maj. Gen. Djasri Marin, Brig. Gen. Saurip Kadi, and Brig. Gen. Romulo Simbolon. Almost all of the writers were of the view that the military should reform and dual function end.
“The writers were members of the generation who were entrusted with keeping a warisan (legacy) by those who themselves failed to set a good example,” says Salim Said in his book Tumbuh dan Tumbangnya Dwi Fungsi (The Rise and Fall of Dual Function). The young army officers were relieved with the fall of the New Order.
Wirahadikusumah’s book exacerbated the conflict between the conservatives and the reformists within the military. Gen. Tyasno Sudarto, then-Army Chief of Staff, said in an interview with Tempo last week that an atmosphere of conflict filled the air within the military. “We all agreed the military should be reformed, but there was no agreement on how it was to be done.”
According to Tyasno, there were two major groups of thinkers within the military. The first group wanted the military to be a force of professionals dedicated to the defense and security of the country. The second group wanted the military to be a social and political force as well, but no longer merely as protector of the existing regime.
The driving force behind the first group, said Tyasno, was made up of generals Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, Agus Widjojo, and Agus Wirahadikusumah. Tyasno admitted he belonged to the second group of conservative officers. “The territorial command system of the military should not be abolished because it was a means by which the military maintained relations with the people,” he said.
Tyasno charged the reformist officers with being overly influenced by the idea of civilian control of the military as in America. “Indeed, most of them were trained in America,” he said.
Gen. Widjojo, former Chief of Staff for Sociopolitical Affairs, denied Tyasno’s allegations. He said the reformists’ arguments were based on the 1945 Constitution. Speaking at length with Tempo last week about the history of dual function and the reasons why the military ended its sociopolitical role, Widodo said: “Under the Constitution, the military is supposed to function only as a national defense and security force.”
The conflict between the reformists and the conservatives carried on at the military headquarters at Cilangkap after the fall of President Suharto. According to Tyasno, leaders of each group worked hard to bring the military leadership to its side.
Gen. Fachrul Razi, former deputy chief of the military, recalled the dynamics of the conflict that raged on a decade ago. He said there were no sharp differences over the dual function issue. “The idea of ending dwi fungsi had been floated since reformasi began.” Most senior officers believed that the idea was a historical necessity. “For a very simple reason: where in the world is there a component of a nation acting as a super body over the rest of the nation?” he asked.
It was a conflict, said Razi, more on how and when the change should be made. “Some wanted it to be done gradually, others wanted it done now.” As chief of the military, Wiranto tried to accommodate everyone and ensure the change wouldn’t rock the boat. On 18 July 1998, only two months after the fall of the New Order, Wiranto announced four new paradigms by which the military would review its social and political role in Indonesia. The term dwi fungsi had since been dropped. “The civic work of the military was dropped, although its role in determining strategic policies remained,” writes Salim Said.
Widjojo said he and Yudhoyono, then his superior and Chief of Staff for Political Affairs, took part in the drafting of the new paradigms. “At that time, there had already been talk of scrapping the social and political role of the military,” he said. Only, he added, it was to be done gradually because of the unfavorable political condition with street demonstrations and economic woes continuing to destabilize the situation.
Two years later, a number of important positions in the military changed hands. Admiral Widodo was named chief of the military and Gen. Fachrul Razi his deputy. Gen. Widjojo was the new Chief of Sociopolitical Affairs replacing Gen. Yudhoyono, who joined the government of President Abdurrahman Wahid as Mining & Energy Minister.
The rotation marked a new era with reformist officers taking strategic positions within the military. The power of the conservatives declined drastically. In April 2000 the reformist officers succeeded in convincing the military leadership to scrap dual function.
The decision was announced by Widodo at the close of a military leadership conference at Cilangkap. “The main task of the military will henceforth be to act as a major component for the defense of the nation,” said Widodo. Thus ended the long history of dwi fungsi.
In the New Order era, soldiers dominated all aspects of the country—from private life to politics. Subjected to a wave of reform, the domination was eroded. Ten years ago, the Cilangkap military headquarters announced its preparedness to leave politics. This story marks the 12-year downfall of the authoritarian regime.
IN the Gatot Subroto hall, Cilangkap headquarters, Indonesian Military (TNI) Commander in Chief, Admiral Widodo Adi Sutjipto made history. On Wednesday, April 19, 2000, he declared that the military had abandoned its sociopolitical function, which “has departed from the TNI’s identity as the defender of the state”.
All the military top brass were present in the room, including three chiefs of staff. Minister of Defense Juwono Sudarsono and State Minister of Regional Autonomy Ryaas Rasyid also attended. The first TNI commander from the Indonesian Navy continued, “Functionally, the TNI has now focused itself on the execution of defense duties.”
Widodo, lastly Coordinating Minister for Political, Legal & Security Affairs in United Indonesia Cabinet I, at the time said the TNI was no longer fully accountable for public order, which had become the responsibility of the police. It was an important chapter that ended the military moves in various facets of life of the state through the dual-function doctrine.
Starting from the “middle path” concept of Abdul Haris Nasution in 1958, the dual function served as soldiers’ entry gate to politics. Basically it gave an opportunity to the military—as one of the political forces—to play a role in the government based on the principle of collective duty. This concept was created to prevent a military coup, which could feasibly recur. Nasution’s “middle path” was completed through the doctrine named Tri Ubaya Cakti, resulting from the Army Seminar I (1965) and II (1966) in Bandung.
President Suharto really benefited from the military dual function to support his power for over three decades. For the sake of “political stability and security”, he named military officers to be ministers, governors and regents. At the rural level, soldiers also became subdistrict or village heads. With the dual function, they also obtained free tickets to the House of Representatives.
As a result, development proceeded stably—though later found out to be fragile and corrupt. According to Gen. Endriartono Sutarto, TNI Commander in Chief replacing Widodo, Suharto prioritized people’s “stomach” matters. He ignored transparency—something that later was demanded by the public at large.
Endriartono related an anecdote to describe the atmosphere at the time. One day, Suharto was angling and failed to catch any fish. In fact, many other people had their catch. Asked about it, a fisherman answered, “In the face of Bapak, even men dare not open their mouths, let alone fish.”
On May 21, 1998, Suharto’s power tumbled. Soldiers’ role was challenged. Gradually, Cilangkap transformed itself despite the tug-of-war between various interests. In his book, Tumbuh dan Tumbangnya Dwifungsi (The Growth and Ruin of Dual Function), Salim Said sees Widodo’s speech in Cilangkap as the military’s official divorce from the dual function.
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ACCORDING to Agus Widjojo, former TNI Territorial Chief of Staff, besides abandoning the double function, soldiers still had a choice: doggedly maintaining Suharto. But part of the top brass considered the time opportune to open the path to democracy. “If Pak Harto had been defended, the National Monument (Monas) would have been bloody,” he said.
By the fall of Suharto, Jakarta and several other cities were chaotic and in a mess. In the capital, tanks and armored vehicles barricaded city corners and the vicinity of the Presidential Palace. Roads leading to Monas and the Palace were blocked. Chinatown was guarded by armed troops. All shops and houses in the zone were closed. Some of their owners fled abroad.
The House of Representatives and People’s Consultative Assembly building was clamorous. Tens of thousands of students controlled the building. They urged Suharto to step down. The masses also planned to stage a mass rally of a million people at Monas Square, right in front of the Palace, on National Awakening Day, May 20, 1998.
The movement failed. Soldiers set up barbed wire around Monas. Chief of Staff of the Army Strategic Reserve Command Kivlan Zein threatened to shoot Amien Rais, then Central Board General Chairman of Muhammadiyah, if he organized the rally. “Troops prepared tanks and ammunition to drive out protesters,” says Kivlan in the book, Konflik dan Integrasi TNI-AD (Conflict and Integration of the TNI/Army).
On May 21, 1998, Suharto was unable to resist the wave of protests. He made a speech declaring his resignation. The challenge to the double function persisted, even strengthening. From then on, Cilangkap introduced some changes.
Gen. Fachrul Razi, former TNI Deputy Commander, said public pressure was not the only factor affecting the military reform. “Despite being under pressure, if we’d rejected, no change would have happened,” said Fachrul, now Chairman of the People’s Conscience Party. He added the desire for reform had arisen before 1998. Some officers thought that TNI had become a super institution.
Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, former Sociopolitical Chief of Staff, stated the public denunciation of the military role completed and hastened the transformation. “The reform awareness had appeared before Suharto stepped down,” says Yudhoyono, now President, in the book, SBY Sang Demokrat (SBY the Democrat).
Indeed, the military made minor changes in the concluding years of the New Order. Army Chief of Staff Gen. Edi Sudradjat, for instance, offered the idea of getting back to basics. In his view, soldiers should be professional, prioritizing the state defense duty.
In the term of Armed Forces Commander Gen. M. Jusuf, soldiers entering the civilian domain were put in order. He banned active soldiers from trading. Those violating the rule were dismissed or pensioned off earlier. M. Jusuf also banned companies set up under military units. Suharto in 1981 issued a warning to the military. Functional assignments should not lead to the placement of military personnel in non-military sectors.
Still, such statements eventually served as slogans. If implemented, they were not steadily observed for being ignored by successors. In 1997, Gen. R. Hartono, Army Chief of Staff since two years earlier, even wore a yellow jacket when attending a campaign held by the Golkar Party.
The reform began to be seriously handled as Cilangkap formed a team of 32 generals and six colonels. A number of officers known as reformists joined as members, like Agus Widjojo, Yudhoyono, and Agus Wirahadikusumah. Soon after the fall of Suharto, the team released four new TNI paradigms. First, soldiers must not always be in front. Second, soldiers already occupying civilian posts should only exert influence for good purposes. Third, soldiers should change their way from exerting direct influence to affecting indirectly. Fourth, soldiers should be ready to share political roles with the nation’s other components.
The four new paradigms were actually just toning down the dual function, already seen as deadwood by Cilangkap at the time. Agus Widjojo believed it took time for the military to be really rid of the political role. “The new paradigm concept was finished only two months after Pak Harto resigned,” noted Agus.
There were also radical officers. Led by Agus Wirahadikusumah, the group strongly voiced military reform. When he was Wirabuana Regional Military Commander, he even said territorial commands should be dissolved. In fact, territorial development had virtually been a “religion” for soldiers. Agus proposed the dissolution in phases, starting from the lowest territorial command of noncommissioned officers in villages known as babinsa.
Agus Widjojo and other progressive officers also suggested the transfer of territorial fostering function to regional administrations. The military function should be limited to defense only. Territorial commands are not authorized to cover society. “There’s a clear limit between military and civilian domains,” he said. Under the New Order, the commands of military precincts, districts, zones, and babinsa were involved in mobilizing public forces in general elections and nominations of regents, district heads, or village chiefs.
The radical idea was opposed by the conservative group, like Gen. Tyasno Sudarto, Army Chief of Staff, 1999-2000, and Jakarta Military Commander Djaja Suparman. Tyasno said the reform had considerably deviated. According to him, the reform tended to be oriented to the US and other advanced countries.
Tyasno added American soldiers really stayed in barracks because they had been formed by the state. “In Indonesia, soldiers set up the state,” he stressed. For this reason, Tyasno deemed it unnecessary to end the dual function.
At last, soldiers had to submit to the times. They were powerless to resist the reform ‘tsunami’. The dual function has been part of history since the speech of Admiral Widodo in the Gatot Subroto hall, Cilangkap.
10 YEARS TNI REFORM SPECIAL REPORT TEAM Team Leader: Budi Setyarso Coordinator: Sunudyantoro Writers: Sunudyantoro, Wahyu Dhyatmika, Philipus Parera, Yandi M.R., Dwidjo Utomo Maksum, Oktamandjaya Wiguna, Cheta Nilawaty Contributors: Mahbub Djunaidy, David Priyasidharta (Jember) Research: Evan Koesumah Editors: Budi Setyarso, Arif Zulkifli, Nugroho Dewanto, Idrus F. Shahab, Amarzan Loebis, M. Taufiqurohman, Hermien Y. Kleden, Wahyu Muryadi Language Editors: Uu Suhardi, Dewi Kartika Teguh Photographers: Mazmur A. Sembiring, Suryo Wibowo, Jacky Rachmansyah Visual Design: Gilang Rahadian, Eko Punto P., Hendy Prakasa, Kendra H. Paramita, Kiagus Auliansyah, Aji Yuliarto, Agus Darmawan S., Tri Watno Widodo.
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