A LOCAL PERSPECTIVE ON THE MILITARY

A LOCAL PERSPECTIVE ON THE MILITARY WITHDRAWAL
FROM POLITICS IN INDONESIA:
East Java 1998 -2003
By
Jonni Mahroza
Thesis Submitted for the Degree of Doctor Philosophy
The Flinders Asia Centre
School of Politics and International Studies
Faculty of Social Science
The Flinders University, Adelaide, South Australia
25 August 2006
1
Table of Contents
Contents ..............................................................................................................Page
Table of Contents ..........................................................................................................i
List of Tables, Diagrams, Figure, and Map................................................................vi
Candidate’s Declaration.............................................................................................vii
Abbreviations and Glossary...................................................................................... viii
Abstract ......................................................................................................................xvi
Acknowledgments................................................................................................... xviii
Chapter One
INTRODUCTION:
Studying recent change in military-political relations in a major
Indonesian region .................................................................................................... 1
1. Doubted reform? ................................................................................................. 1
2. Questioning towards this study .......................................................................... 6
3. Research aims and questions ......................................................................... 10
4. Significance and limitation of the study ........................................................... 11
5. Thesis organization ........................................................................................... 12
Chapter Two
REGIME CHANGE and MILITARY WITHDRAWAL:
Theoretical Framework ..........................................................................................17
1. Introduction ........................................................................................................ 17
2. Defining a regime ............................................................................................. 18
2.1. Military regimes ............................................................................................19
2.2. Democratic regime ......................................................................................21
3. Process of military withdrawal ......................................................................... 23
3.1. Patterns and stages ....................................................................................23
3.2. Influential factors on military withdrawals ...................................................25
4. Impacts of military withdrawal........................................................................... 27
4.1. Functional separation...................................................................................28
4.2. Improvements in professionalism ..............................................................30
4.3. Democratizing a political system.................................................................31
5. Conclusion......................................................................................................... 34
Chapter Three
PRE-1998 MILITARY POLITICS IN INDONESIA:
A review of its history until the withdrawal ........................................................36
1. Introduction ........................................................................................................ 36
2. Pre-New Order period....................................................................................... 37
2.1 The formation of the new national army and its early involvement in politics
............................................................................................................................37
2.2 Military political expansion during the 1950s...............................................38
3. The New Order: military in government after the mid-1960s ......................... 47
3.1. Doctrines: Hankamrata and Dwifungsi.......................................................48
3.2. Territorial Structure of the TNI .....................................................................51
3.3.1. The feature of the local military units .....................................................53
3.3.2.1. Bakorstanas and Litsus.......................................................................54
2
3.3.2.2. Wansospol and Staf Sospol................................................................55
3.3.3.1. Military appointments to the local government bureaucracy ............56
3.3.3.2. The military inLocal Legislative Assemblies (DPRD)........................58
3.3.4. Local inter-institution relations: coordination of social and political
controls...............................................................................................................59
3.3.5. Military relationships with the local bureaucracies ..................................60
3.3.6. Personal Benefits of Service in the Koter................................................63
3.3.7. The local military’s relations with the society before 1998......................65
4. Conclusion......................................................................................................... 70
Chapter Four
METHODOLOGY.....................................................................................................71
1. The Research Strategy..................................................................................... 71
1.1. A “multi-strategy” analysis ...........................................................................71
1.2. A local case study ........................................................................................72
1.3. A semi-grounded or snowball method of data collection ..........................73
2. The selection of the research site .................................................................... 74
3. Data sources and collection ............................................................................. 77
3.1. The pattern of data collection ......................................................................77
3.2. Collecting documents at the DPRD............................................................78
3.3. Interviews with DPRD members.................................................................80
3.4. Collecting data from military units ...............................................................84
3.5. Collecting data at the local government offices..........................................86
3.6. Other sources of data ..................................................................................86
3.7. Observation ..................................................................................................87
4. Issues of confidentiality ..................................................................................... 88
Chapter Five
“REFORMASI” AND IMPACTS ON MILITARY-SOCIETY RELATIONS.........90
1. Introduction ........................................................................................................ 90
2. The New Order’s Vanished Legitimacy........................................................... 91
2.1. Economic collapse, demonstrations, attacks on the Chinese community91
2.2. “Land reclaiming” by villagers......................................................................94
2.3. Local communal conflicts: the “dukun santet” and “ninja” murders ..........98
3. Demoralization of the military .........................................................................103
4. An Emergence of grassroots-based democracy: The case of the Mutual
Aid Communication Posts (PGR) ......................................................................106
5. TNI’s New Paradigm and soldiers’ reactions ................................................112
5.1. Obstacles to discipline campaign?: From “Nge-ter” to “Nye-per” ...........114
5.2. Economic pressures or Reformasi euphoria?: Soldiers’ protests...........117
6. Summary .........................................................................................................119
Chapter Six
LOCAL INSTITUTIONAL REFORMS:
Dismantling the military’s political networks...................................................121
1. Introduction: The three reforms ......................................................................121
2. De-politicization of military institutions............................................................122
2.1. Staf Sospol .................................................................................................122
2.2. Wansospol..................................................................................................124
2.3. Bakorstada and Litsus ...............................................................................125
3
3. Demilitarization of Political Institutions............................................................127
3.1. Withdrawal from government bureaucracy..............................................128
3.2. Eliminating military representatives’ seats in the local Assemblies ........131
4. Impact of Decentralization on the local military .............................................136
4.1. Liquidation of the Kansospol .....................................................................136
4.2. Changing Relations of District Government’s Executive and Legislature
..........................................................................................................................138
4.3. Changing Regulations for the Local Elections .........................................140
4.4. Changing lines of communications between the Provincial and the District
governments......................................................................................................142
5. Conclusion.......................................................................................................143
Chapter Seven
MILITARY INVOLVEMENT IN ELECTIONS OF DISTRICT GOVERNMENT
HEADS (1): Towards declining effectiveness..................................................145
1. Introduction ......................................................................................................145
2. District elections in the New Order.................................................................147
Stage I: Selection and nomination ...................................................................148
Stage II: Approval by the central authorities....................................................151
Stage III: Voting stage.......................................................................................152
Stage IV: The final approval .............................................................................153
3. District elections post-New Order...................................................................154
3.1. Challenging the military domination in Sumbersari..................................156
3.2. Defeating the military in Ngadiredjo ..........................................................161
3.3. Dealing with new powers...........................................................................168
3.4. Restarting the election ...............................................................................170
3.5. Powerless against a majority party ...........................................................171
3.6. Left out by ruling coalitions ........................................................................173
4. Conclusion.......................................................................................................176
Chapter Eight
MILITARY INVOLVEMENT IN ELECTIONS OF DISTRICT GOVERNMENT
HEADS (2): The rise of personal politics ..........................................................178
1. Introduction: The dissolving of a pattern........................................................178
2. Reasons for military support of candidates ...................................................181
3. Shifting to individual orientations ....................................................................183
4. Involvement in civilian political conflicts..........................................................184
5. Deviating from internal consensus.................................................................192
6. Disobeying territorial commanders ................................................................194
7. Open involvement ...........................................................................................198
8. Does institutional or individual matter? ..........................................................201
9. The place of the military in unstable civilian politics: Military political
backing.................................................................................................................203
10. Conclusion.....................................................................................................207
Chapter Nine
IMPACTS ON LOCAL MILITARY (1):
The collapse of the military’s karya positions .................................................209
1. Introduction: The three problems ...................................................................209
2. Problems: Job-losses and individuals’ reactions...........................................210
4
3. Political failure: The military-turned-civilian Bupatis and Mayors..................216
4. Deterioration: The DPRD military factions.....................................................226
5. Conclusion.......................................................................................................231
Chapter Ten
IMPACT ON LOCAL MILITARY (2):
The Declining Effectiveness of Its Security Role ............................................233
1. Introduction ......................................................................................................233
2. The money dried up........................................................................................234
3. Koter: Discourse, reactions and soldiers’ perspectives ................................242
3.1. Debating Koter abolition ............................................................................242
3.2. Reactions of local military personnel ........................................................245
3.3. What does the Koter mean for the soldiers?............................................247
3.3.1. A preferred appointment.......................................................................247
3.3.2. Meaningless professionalism...............................................................249
3.3.3. Struggles to move.................................................................................250
3.3.4. The Koter as a personnel disposal system.........................................252
4. Separation of the military from the police.......................................................253
4.1. A compelling situation for a military back-up ............................................254
4.2. Ineffectiveness of the military back-up and uneasy relations..................257
5. Conclusion.......................................................................................................262
Chapter Eleven
IMPACTS ON CIVILIAN:
Civilian politicians, civil society and uncivil politics without TNI.................264
1. Introduction ......................................................................................................264
2. Political participation........................................................................................265
2.1. “Anti-female president” against the “bloody thumb-print” campaign.......267
2.2. The Gusdur Impeachment Crisis..............................................................269
3. Politicians and political parties ........................................................................276
3.1. PDIP: Politicians and party ........................................................................276
3.2. PKB: Politicians and party .........................................................................285
4. Money politics problems and post-election implications...............................289
6. Conclusion.......................................................................................................293
Chapter Twelve
DEMILITARIZATION OF LOCAL POLITICS, DEPOLITICIZATION OF THE
MILITARY AND DEMOCRATIZATION IN EAST JAVA:
ANALYSIS OF FINDINGS.....................................................................................295
1. Introduction ......................................................................................................295
2. Military-society relations preceding the withdrawal.......................................296
3. Institutional Reforms........................................................................................300
4. Impacts on military involvement in Pilkada elections....................................304
5. Impacts on (former) karya personnel.............................................................311
6. Impacts on local military units.........................................................................314
7. Impacts on civilian politicians, civil society and uncivil politics without TNI..321
8. Concluding Remarks ......................................................................................326
Bibliography ..........................................................................................................332
5
1. Books ...............................................................................................................332
2. Journal Articles ................................................................................................341
3. Unpublished Works.........................................................................................345
4. Laws and Regulations ....................................................................................346
5. Official Documents ..........................................................................................347
6. Magazines, Newspapers and Electronic Media............................................363
Appendix..............................................................................................................Page
Appendix. 1
Appendix. 2
Appendix.
Appendix.
Appendix.
Appendix.
3
4
5
6
Appendix. 7
Appendix. 8
Appendix. 9
Appendix. 10
Appendix. 11
Appendix. 12
Appendix. 13
Appendix. 14
Appendix. 15
Appendix. 16
Appendix. 17
Appendix. 18
Appendix. 19
Positive and negative impacts of the withdrawal of the military
from politics in East Java.............................................................367
Possible links between military political withdrawal (in post1998 East Java case), past military political intervention, and
various degrees of civilian control and democracy ...................370
Composition of Interviewees from East Java............................371
Possible changes in patterns of military withdrawal..................372
Security Fund Assistance to local military and police units.......373
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of a Provincial DPRD
(Cover only) .................................................................................374
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of a District DPRD
(Cover only) .................................................................................375
The Election Committee of the 1994 Jember Bupati Election..376
The Election Committee of the 2000 Sumenep Bupati
Election.........................................................................................377
The F-KB Criteria for the Bupati/Vice-Bupati Candidates in
the 2000 Gresik Election.............................................................378
The F-DIP Criteria for the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati Candidates in
the 2000 Gresik Election.............................................................379
A Local Newspaper Clipping: “A Pedi cab driver registered as
the Vice Bupati Candidate” in the 2003 Madiun Bupati
Election.........................................................................................380
The Complete Documents of the Election submitted for an
approval of the 2000 -2005 Bupati/ Vice Bupati of Situbondo
Regency (Cover only) .................................................................381
Chronology of the Impeachment of Drs. Bambang Dwi
Hartomo, M.Pd. as Surabaya Mayor (Cover only)....................382
The Decision of Surabaya Court on the Sampang Bupati
Election Dispute (Cover only) .....................................................383
The (1999) Decision of the Commander in Chief of the
Indonesian Armed Forces for the Assignment of Officers in
Civilian Karya Jobs (Cover only) ................................................384
The (1996) Decision of the Commander in Chief of the
Indonesian Armed Forces for the Assignment of Officers in
Civilian Karya Jobs (Cover only) ................................................385
The 2002 LPJ (End-of-Year Accountability Report) of the
Malang Bupati (Cover only) ........................................................386
An allocation of Security Funds in the Local Government
Budget..........................................................................................387
6
Appendix. 20
Appendix. 21
The Guiding Book for the Military’s Civic Mission at District
Level (Cover only) .......................................................................388
The salary of the Members of DPRD DPRD according to the
Government Regulation No. 110/ 2000 (a front page only) .....389
7
List of Tables, Charts and Map
Tables, Diagrams, Figure, Map ....................................................................... Page
Table II. 1
Table II. 2
Table II. 3
Intervention
Table II. 4
Table II. 5
Table IX. 1
Typologies of Military Rule..........................................................20
Degree of military political involvement ......................................22
The (Finer-based) Calculus of Military Withdrawal/
26
Political interactions in the military security role .........................28
Relations between political cultures, levels and modes of
intervention, and types of regime................................................32
Level of authority of local government and territorial
command. .................................................................................... 52
Key elements of the formal military involvement in politics at
local level during the New Order era. ......................................... 62
The Elements of TNI’s Internal Reform (Reformasi Internal
TNI).............................................................................................113
Political changes affecting the military power in East Java
District elections (May 1998 – December 2003) .....................154
Outcomes of East Java’s District elections (May 1998 –
December 2003)........................................................................155
Military achievement in East Java’s District Elections.............168
Military Affiliation and Aspiration in East Java District
Elections.....................................................................................179
Military support for officers competing to be East Java
District Heads (May 1998 – December 2003).........................182
Candidates for District Head/Vice-Head proposed by PDIP
and PKB (1999-2003) ...............................................................206
Members of F-TNI/POLRI involved in the recall disputes.......229
Chart III. 1
Chart VII.1
Relations between positions in the local military and the local government executives
Phases of local election according the Indonesian Law No. 5/1974.
148
Chart VIII. 1
Percentage of Candidates for District Head/Vice-District Head proposed by PDIP and
Map IV.1
Map of East Java.........................................................................76
Table III. 1
Table III. 2
Table V.1.
Table VII. 1
Table VII. 2
Table VII. 3
Table VIII. 1
Table VIII. 2
Table VIII. 3
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CANDIDATE’S DECLRATION
I certify that this thesis does not incorporate without acknowledgement any
material previously submitted for a degree or diploma in any university,
and that to the best of my knowledge and belief it does not contain any
material previously published or written by another person except where
due reference is made in the text.
Jonni Mahroza
25 August 2006
SUPERVISORS’ DECLARATION
We believe that this thesis is properly presented, conform to the
specifications for the thesis and is sufficient standard to be, prima facie,
worthy of examination.
A/Prof Anton Lucas
Dr Jim Schiller
25 August 2006
25 August 2006
9
Abbreviations and Glossary
ABRI
Armed
Angkatan Bersenjata Republik Indonesia - Indonesian
Forces
AD
Angkatan Darat – Army
AJI
Independent Journalist Association
AKPOL
Akademi Kepolisian – Police Academy
AL
Angkatan Laut – Navy
AMD
Abri Masuk Desa – Armed Forces Enters the Village
ARMED
Artileri Medan -- Field Artillery
AU
Angkatan Udara – Air Force
BABINSA
Bintara Pembina Desa (Indonesian military NCO at village
level)
BAIS
Badan Intelijen Strategis – The Armed Forces Strategic
Intelligence Board
BAKESBANG
Badan Koordinasi Kesatuan Bangsa – National Unity
Coordinating Board
BAKIN
Badan Koordinasi Intelijen Negara – State Intelligence
Coordinating Board
BAKORINDA
Badan Koordinasi Intelijen Daerah – Regional Intelligence
Coordinating Body
BAKORSTANASDA Badan Koordinasi Bantuan Pemantapan Stabilitas dan
Ketahanan Nasional Tingkat Daerah – Regional
Coordinating Board for National Stability and Resilience
BAKORSTANAS
Badan Koordinasi Bantuan Pemantapan Stabilitas dan
Ketahanan Nasional – National Stability and Resilience
Coordinating Board
BAP
Berkas Berita Acara Pemeriksaan - Police Investigation
Report
BAPPEDA
Regional Development Planning Board
BECAK
Traditional three-wheel taxi (trishaw)
10
BIA
Badan Intelijen ABRI – Armed Forces Intelligence
Organization
BIN
Badan Intelijen Negara/ National Intelligence Board
BPD
Assembly
Badan Perwakilan Desa – Village Representative
BPS
Bureau of Statistics
BRAWIJAYA
Regional Military Command in East Java
BRIGIF
Brigade Infanteri – Infantry Brigade
BRIMOB
Brigade Mobil – Police Mobile Brigade
BULOG
National Logistics Board
BUMN
State-owned enterprises
BUPATI
District Head—Regent
CABUP
Calon Bupati – District Head/Regent Candidate
CAMAT
Head of a Kecamatan/sub-district (subdivision of
Kabupaten)
CAWABUP
Calon Wakil Bupati – Deputy District/Regent Candidate
CAWALI
Calon Walikota – City Mayor Candidate
CAWAWALI
Calon Wakil Walikota – Deputy Mayor Candidate
DANDIM
Komandan Kodim – Military District Commander
DANRAMIL
Commander
Komandan Rayon Militer – Sub-District Military
DANREM
Kemandan Korem – Military Resort Commander
DEHANKAM
Security
Departemen Pertahanan dan Keamanan – Defense and
Department
DEPHAN
Departemen Pertahanan – Defense Department
DESA
Autonomous Village
DPC
Dewan Pimpinan Central – District Leadership Council (of a
political party)
11
DPD
(of a
Dewan Pimpinan Daerah – Regional Leadership Council
party, or social organization)
DPP
Dewan Pimpinan Pusat – Central Leadership Council (of a
party, or social organization)
DPR
People's Representative Assembly - one of the two
representative bodies provided for in the 1945 Constitution
DPRD
Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat Daerah/ District,Municipal and
Provincial Representative Assemblies
F-ABRI
Fraksi ABRI – Armed Forces Faction in DPR or DPRD
F-AN
Fraksi Amanat Nasional, PAN Faction in the DPR/ DPRD
F-DIP
Fraksi Demokrasi Perjuangan, Faction of PDIP in the DPR/
DPRD
F-GAB
Frakksi Gabungan – Combined Party Faction
F-GOLKAR
Fraksi Golkar, Faction of Golkar Party in the DPR/ DPRD
F-KB
DPRD
Fraksi Kebangitan Bangsa, Faction of PKB in the DPR/
FKPPI
Youth
Forum Komunikasi Putera Puteri Indonesia – Indonesian
Communication Forum
FOKORIN
Board
Forum Koordinasi Intelijen – Intelligence Coordinating
F-PPP
Fraksi Partai Persatuan Pembangunan, Faction of United
Development Party Representatives in the DPR/ DPRD
F-TNI/POLRI
Fraksi TNI/POLRI, Faction of Military/ Police
Representatives in the DPR/ DPRD
GESTAPU
Acronym for the September 30th Movement, the abortive
“communist” coup that resulted in the demise of the PKI
the emergence of the army under Suharto as the
of the Republic of Indonesia
and
new Rulers
GOLKAR
Functional Groups; the ruling political party; a ‘corporatist’
federation of groups within society, such as peasants,
workers, and women (State Political Party during Suharto
and Habibie Presidencies)
GOTONG
ROYONG
Traditional voluntary work for common benefit
12
HANKAMNASPertahanan dan Keamanan Nasional – National Defence and
Security
HANKAMNEG
Pertahan dan Keamanan Negara – State Defence and
Security
HANKKAMRATA
Pertahanan dan Keamanan Rakyat Semesta – Total
People’s Defense and Security
HANRATA
Pertahanan Rakyat Semesta – Total People’s Defense
HANSIP
Pertahan Sipil – Civil Defense
ICMI
Ikatan Cendikiawan Muslim Indonesia/ Association of
Indonesian Muslim Intellectuals
ICW
Indonesian Corruption Watch
KABUPATEN
District or Regency, provinces are divided into districts
KADES
Kepala Desa – Village Head
KAKANSOSPOL
Kepala Kantor Sosial Politik – Head of Social and Political
Office
KAMLA
Keamanan Laut – Marine Security
KAMRA
Keamanan Rakyat – People’s Security
KASAD
Kepala Staf Angkatan Darat/ Army Chief of Staff
KECAMATAN Sub-District, headed by Camat
KEPALKA/KA…
The person in charge of an organization, i.e. Kapolri,
Kapolda, Kapolres, Kades, Kakansospol
KISDI
Indonesian Committee for Solidarity with Islamic World
KNIL
Royal Netherlands-Indies Army
KODAL
Komando Pengendalian – Control Command
KODAM
Komando Daerah Militer/ Military Area Command
KODIM
Komando Distrik Militer – Military District Command
KOMNAS HAM
National Commission on Human Rights
13
KOPASKAS
Komando Pasukan Kas – Air Force Special Forces
KOPASUS
Komando Pasukan Kusus – Army Special Forces
KOPKAMTIB
Komando Operasi Keamanan dan Ketertiban/ Operational
Comand for the Restoration of Security and Order –
changed to Bakorstanas (see Bakorstanas) which was
eliminated in 2000
KORAMIL
Komando Rayon Militer (Indonesian military command at
subdistrict level)
KOREM
Komando Resor Militer – Military Sub-regional Command
(below Kodam, above Kodim)
KOSTRAD
Komando Cadangan Strategi Angkatan Darat – Army
Strategic Reserve Command
KOTER
Komando Teritorial/ Territorial Commands (Hierarchical
deployment of the Indonesian Army Units, from provincial to
the village level – see Kodam, Korem, Kodim, Koramil,
Babinsa)
LEMHANNAS
Lembaga Ketahanan Nasional – National Resilience
Institute
MARKAS/ MA…
Headquarters (e.g. Makodam, Mapolda, Mapolres)
MPR
People's Consultative Assembly; one of the two representa
tive bodies provided for in the 1945 Constitution
MUHAMMADYAH
‘Modernist’ Muslim Organization in Indonesia
MUI
Majelis Ulama Indonesia/ Ulama (Moslem Religious
Scholars’ Council in Indoneia
MUSPIDA
Musawarah Pimpinan Daerah – Regional Leaders Forum
MUSPIKA
Musawarah Pimpinan Kecamatan – Sub-district Leaders
Forum
NGO
Non-Governmental Organization
NKRI
Negara Kesatuan Republik Indonesia/ the Untary state of
the Republic of Indonesia
NU
Nahhatul Ulama, ‘Traditional’ Muslim Organization in
Indonesia
OPSUS
Operasi Khusus – Special Operations
14
ORDE BARU
(ORBA) New Order, the name of the Suharto regime which
governed Indonesia from 1966 -1998
ORLA
Orde Lama – Old Order,Sukarno government which ruled
Indonesia before 1966
ORSOSPOL
Organizations
Organisasi Sosial Politik – Social and Political
PAM PEMILU
Pengaman Pemilihan Umum – General Election Security
PAM SWAKARSA
Pengamanan Sukarela – Voluntarily Militia
PAN
National Mandate Party
PANCASILA
Five Principles of the Indonesian Republic which include:
Belief in God, National Unity, Humanitarianism, People's
Sovereignty, Social Justice and Prosperity. They were
devised by Sukarno in July
PANGAR
Panitia Anggaran – DPR or DPRD Budgeting Committee
PANGDAM
Panglima Kodam – Military Area Commander in Chief
PANLIH
Panitia Pemilihan – DPR or DPRD Electoral Committee
PANMUS
Panitia Musyawarah – DPR or DPRD Deliberation
Committee
PANSUS
Panitia Khusus – DPR or DPRD Special Committee
PK
Partai Keadilan – Justice Party
PASPAMPRES
Pasukan Pengaman Presiden – Presidential
Security Unit
PBB
Partai Bulan Bintang/ Crescent and Star Party
PDI
Partai Demokrasi Indonesia (Indonesian Democratic
Party)led by Megawati Sukarnoputri, the successor party to
the PNI
PDI-P
Partai Demokrasi Indonesia – Perjuangan/ Indonesian
Democratic Party – Struggle.
PEMDA
Pemerintah Daerah – Regional Government
PEPOLIT
Organization for Political Indoctrination in the Ministry of
Defense
15
PETA
Tentara Sukarela, Pembela Tanah Air in Java (Volunteer
Army) of Defenders of the Homeland, Indonesian army
units established during the Japanese occupation Many of
its officers became high-ranking military officers and political
leaders in Indonesia
PILKADA
Pemilihan Kepala Daerah – Regional Head Election
PKB
Partai Kebangkitan Bangsa, National Awakening Party
PKI
Partai Komunis Indonesia (the Indonesian Communist
Party) which was a major political force in the Liberal
Democracy and Guided Democracy period.
PNI
Indonesian Nationalist Party, a secular-oriented Indonesian
party which emphasized nationalism, anti-imperialism and
concern for the Indonesian peasantry.
POLDA
Polisi Daerah (Indonesian provincial police)
POLRES
Polisi Resor (Indonesian police at district level)
POLRI
Polisi Republik Indonesia/ Indonesian National level Police
POLSEK
Polisi Sektor (Indonesian police at sub-district level)
POLWIL
Polisi Wilayah – Sub-regional Police
PP
Persatuan Perjuangan/ Struggle Union which was formed
on 15 January 1946 by Tan Malaka, a leader of radical
group that wanted “100 per cent Independence” from the
Dutch colonial power
PP
Pemuda Pancasila – Five Principle’s Youths
PPM
Pemuda Panca Marga – Veteran Son’s Organization
PPP
Partai Persatuan Pembangunan/ United Development
Party
PREMAN
Hodlums, gangsters, criminals
PRRI
the Revolutionary Government of the Republic of
Indonesia, the name of the 1958 regional rebellion directed
at the national government. This rebellion was materially
assisted by the CIA, but was crushed by the Indonesian
army
RATIH
Rakyat Terlatih – Civilian Militia
16
RI
Republik Indonesia – Republic of Indonesia
RIS
Republik Indoenesia Serikat – Republic of the United States
of Indonesia SATGAS Satuan Tugas/ Unarmed para-police
units who deal with public disturbances
SD
Primary School
SEKDA
Sekretaris Daerah – Secretary of Regional Government
SEKWAN
Sekretaris Dewan – Secretary of the DPRD
SESKO
Sekolah Staf Komando – Staff Training Command College
PAS-TRAMTIB
Pasukan Kententraman dan Ketertiban – Municipal guard
units, a civilian corps employed by district government to
enforce local codes and regulations
TAPOL
Tahanan Politik – Political Prisoners
TARPADNAS
Penataran Kewaspadaan Nasional – National Vigilance
Refresher Course
TKR
Tentara Keamanan Rakyat (People's Security Army)
TMD
TNI Masuk Desa (replaced AMD, when ABRI became TNI
in 1999.
TNI
Tentara Nasional Indonesia Indonesian National Army
TNI-AD
Tentara Nasional Angkatan Darat/ Indonesian Army
TNI-AL
Tentara Nasional Angkatan Laut/ Indonesian Navy
TNI-AU
Tentara Nasional Angkatan Udara/ Indonesian Air Force
TRI
Tentara Republik Indonesia (Army of the Republic of
Indonesia)
USTADZ/ KYAI
Muslim Preachers
WABUP
Wakil Bupati – Deputy District Head
WAGUB
Wakil Gubernur – Vice Governor
WANRA
Perlawanan Rakyat – People’s Resistance
WAWALI
Wakil Walikota – Vice Mayor
17
Abstract
This study explains the military withdrawal from politics in the East Java province
of Indonesia in post-Suharto era. Its purpose is to understand how the transition
from an authoritarian to a democratic regime occurred at the local level in the first
five-year period, 1998-2003. To do so, it analyses the process and the impact of
the withdrawal on local military, on local politics, on the newly democratic content
of local civil-military relations, and on the form and quality of the establishing of the
new democracy.
To understand the process, the situation preceding the withdrawal and the
implementation of the withdrawal policy in East Java were analysed. It was found
that two compelling situations – the economic disaster and the collapse of law and
order de-legitimized and badly demoralized the military in this major province. The
absence of significant resistance from the local military to the broad, dramatic
withdrawal policy that followed should be understood against this background.
That is, although it systematically dismantled the military territorial units’ political
networks within the territorial structures, within local government bureaucracies
and parliament, the military’s decision to withdraw from politics afterward was
understood by the local military personnel as politically realistic, to save the
country and the military’s image from worsening much further and thus to limit the
loss of the military’s political power. This situation depicts a pattern of how local
military-society relations drove a change process. The interplay between the
public (external) pressures to withdraw, and the (internal) willingness or at least
acceptance by the military to respond positively propelled the process.
The impact of the withdrawal was very significant. Systemically, the previous
integrated system of military, civilian bureaucratic, and parliamentary political
relations at the local level was over, this re-established stricter boundaries
between the military and the civilian political institutions and cut off the military’s
direct political links. In addition, the process of democratization made some initial
gains from the political decentralization away from tight central control. The power
of local politics and the local branches of political parties have become more
independent and much less influenced by the activities and effectiveness of the
military hierarchy, down to the village levels. The military’s control over local
politics (and security) declined dramatically, mainly because of the elimination of
18
the political networks both horizontally (locally) and vertically (nationally) and the
loss of financial resources that previously had streamed through these networks
that used to sustain its political domination. It is quite encouraging that there is no
evidence about any systematic attempt by the military to revive this declined
influence, and it is not likely possible in the foreseeable future.
There are also serious challenges to the democratic transition and consolidation,
however. There were some problems about how to minimize the potential for
political involvement, through which is considered to be defence and security
management; about how to plan and organ the future funding which will be
adequate to provide for a modern, professional military posture; about bringing a
good governance into the military; and about transforming the mentality and
attitudes of military personnel toward an apolitical, professional military culture.
Clearly, dismantling the territorial units’ political networks was essential but not
enough to make the military more professional. On the civilian side, there was a
concern about improving the institutionalization of political parties, so that the
political parties are able to accommodate a new trend in political participation
which slightly increased, but was more sectarian and violent in its forms. So, the
challenge for the civilian is how to establish an effective democratic civilian politics
without the involvement of the military.
Despite this limited success – that it has only led and opened the ways to but had
not yet been able to establish military professionalism and strong and effective
democracy – it should be seen optimistically as a crucial impetus and opportunity
to continue the process and to achieve those two preconditions essential to
sustain a lasting civilian control over the military.
19
Acknowledgment
I was able to pursue and complete this study only because of the great
contribution from many people and organizations, with only a few of which can
possibly be acknowledged here.
My most extensive and substantial debt in the whole period of this study is to my
supervisor, Dr. Jim Schiller, who has been a constant source of encouragement
and support in getting this thesis to this completion stage. His full attention with his
views, critics, and comments have made the quality of this thesis much better than
it otherwise would have been. I am particularly in debt to Professor Collin Brown
for his role in supervising me in designing and preparing this thesis and making
me ready to carry out the field work and to Dr Michele Ford and A/Professor Anton
Lucas for their supportive and valuable advisory roles at the writing-up stage of
this thesis. They were all great supervisors and their supports were so enormous
that I was very lucky to be a student of them.
I would like to record my gratitude to the Australian Government for awarding an
AusAid Scholarship, which provided me with an opportunity to pursue my PhD
Program at the Flinders University. I was also very fortune to obtain a strong
endorsement for undertaking my study especially from Brigadier General (now
retired) H. M. Hatta, S.IP and Colonel Erwin Barley, each was the Commander
and the Director in the Artillery Centre of the Indonesian Army, under whom I was
working as a serving officer in Cimahi, Indonesia. I am particularly grateful to gain
a full support and permission from the Headquarters of the Indonesian Army and
the Indonesian Armed Forces to follow this study program. I also wish to express
my gratitude to Colonel Suhardjanto, the Indonesian Army Attaché in Canberra,
for his genuine kindness and supportive attention that brought the auspicious
condition to my stay and study in Australia.
I owe a particular debt to the resource people at many levels of government and
military headquarters in the East Java province, with their warm welcomes and
helpful roles in various ways to provide me with valuable documents and other
forms of useful information during my field work. I would like also to express my
20
gratitude to Dr Roger Wiseman who gave me priceless suggestions and has done
such a professional editing job that appreciably improved the coherence and
readability of this thesis. Debts to the staff members of Asia Centre and my
student colleagues are also many, and my thanks go to Dr. Liz Morrell, and Mrs.
Pat Huxtable, Vincensio Dugis, Bayu Patriadi, Hetifah Saifuddian, David Langdon,
and Dianto Bachriadi. Their personal supports, discussions and sharing have
made my study environment in Adelaide very encouraging, productive and
enjoyable.
Finally, my wife Diah, my daughters Nindya and Ayu, with whom I share my life,
and who devoted their endless understanding in difficult time of my candidature,
deserve more thanks by far than the dedication of this thesis can offer.
21
Chapter One
INTRODUCTION:
Studying recent change in military-political relations in a major
Indonesian region
A less noticed characteristic of the army today is that it is virtually a
state within the state…the army, five years into reformasi, remains a
closed corporate group willing and able to protect its prerogatives, if
need be at the expense of others.1
…less doctrinal and contextual analysis and more attention to
local military entrenchment might have yielded more insights into
Indonesia’s stalled democratic project.2
1. Doubted reform?
Indonesia is experiencing another major change in the history of its
military politics. The Indonesian military3 was expanding its political power
from 1945 to 1966, seized and dominated much of government from 1966
to 1998, then recently began to withdraw from politics soon after the
collapse of the New Order regime at the peak of democratization
movements in 1998.4 To what extent the military has shifted from its
previous post-Independence history of deep involvement in politics5 is a
fascinating and important topic to study as its complex development both
promises hopes and poses doubts for the future of Indonesia and its
democracy.
The withdrawal of the Indonesian military from politics has been a
consequential process of democratization when its “wave” found a
1
Liddle, William, “Indonesia’s army remains a closed corporate group”, Jakarta Post, June 3, 2003. The italic
stress on reformasi is added.
2
Kammen, Douglass., “Recent Scholarship on the Indonesian Military”, Indonesia, Oct 2003., Nr. 76 pp. 215-220.
3
The name of the Indonesian military has been changed since its creation in 1945 from TKR (Tentara
Keamanan Rakyat/People’s Security Army) to TNI (Tentara Nasional Indonesia/ National Army) to ABRI
(Angkatan Bersenjata Republik Indonesia/ Indonesian Republic Armed Forces) and to TNI again since 1999.
4
An historical review discussing the development of the military’s political role since 1945 is provided in Chapter
Three. This includes a description of its political and economic activities and influences at the local level.
5
The scope and range of the local military’s political, economic activities and influences are described in Chapter
Three.
22
convenient opening to hit Indonesia through a financial crisis that has
hampered the country since late 1997. The crisis was interwoven with
political tensions around the national election in the same year and the
subsequent re-election of Suharto for a seventh five-year presidency in
March 1998. Major political developments then erupted. Greater pressures
for political and economic reforms (reformasi), both from domestic and
international communities, turned the financial crisis into a multifaceted
one (economic, political, social and security) that forced the resignation of
President Suharto two months after his re-election with the collapse of his
military-backed New Order Regime. Reformasi afterwards dis-assembled
the New Order’s key elements of power, including, specifically, the
military.6
As responses to the demands of reformasi, a wide range of military
political reforms has been introduced, covering doctrinal, structural or
institutional to operational elements, either initiated internally by the central
military headquarters or enforced by the national government through new
and revised articles in the national constitution and subsequent
legislation.7 TNI initiated what is called TNI’s Internal Reform (Reformasi
Internal TNI) which attempted to “redefine” and “reposition” the TNI’s
political role. There were two main aims of these reforms: firstly, “to
promote confidence and trust-building in the country”, and secondly, to
undertake “more fundamental, structural-oriented policies with the object
of reforming the armed forces” in order to be compatible with the current
process and aims of Indonesian democratization.8 As described in more
detail in Chapter Two, the reforms had to be done in ways that would
6
Scholars described the forces coming from two directions, the international community and domestic
movements. For example, Sukardi Rinakit included “international actors (particularly the IMF and United States),
the student and opposition movements, the elite conspiracy, and intra-military politics”. Rinakit, Sukardi, The
Indonesian Military after the New Order (Singapore: ISEAS Press, 2005), pp. 62-90. Aspinall said that it was “the
escalation of opposition in the first five months of the year [1998]”, “propelled” by the 1997 economic collapse, that
brought about Suharto’s political downfall. The book provides an extensive account of “ordinary people”
opposition groups, such as dissidents, NGOs, student activists, political parties – struggling for democracy and
bringing a repressive authoritarian regime down from power. See Aspinall, Edward., Opposing Suharto:
Compromise, Resistance, and Regime Change in Indonesia, (Stanford, California: Stanford University Press,
2005), pp. 202–238. The situation around the resignation of Suharto is discussed in Chapter Five, while a detailed
description of the dis-assembling of the military political network is provided in Chapter Six.
7
Detailed information about these changes is provided in Chapters Five (Section 5) and Six.
8
Singh, Bilveer., “Civil-military relations in democratizing Indonesia: Change amidst continuity”, Armed Forces
and Society, 26 (4), Summer, 2000, p. 622.
23
separate the military from politics and minimize its political influence. This
would be done by dismantling political roles attached to the military
institutions, by withdrawing all military elements from civilian political
institutions, and by redrawing a democratic pattern of civil-military
relations, that is, democratic civilian control over the military.
Not surprisingly, the “Internal Reform” has not met the expectations
mentioned above. So far, expressions of doubt can be easily found in
various writings related to the topic of the transformation of civil-military
relations. An early survey in 2000 concluded that despite “a qualitative
change in civil-military-relations in Indonesia…(T)his does not mean that a
‘back to barracks’ policy has taken place”.9 In 2002 John McBeth, a
Jakarta correspondent of the Far Eastern Economic Review, wrote: “The
military’s national role may be dwindling, but it is still wields considerable
power. Decentralization will likely enhance this”.10 In mid-2003 William
Liddle wrote in the Jakarta Post that no fundamental change had
happened in the military’s political power; instead, the military – especially
the Army – “remains a closed corporate group…virtually a state within a
state”.11 Recently Aspinall appeared similarly pessimistic, writing that,
despite “dramatic breakthroughs and moments of great optimism” in the
Indonesian transition to democracy, it has been also followed by rapid
“frustration and disillusionment” as “the military-bureaucratic base of the
regime remained largely intact”.12 In his 2003 book, Power Politics and the
Indonesian Military, Damien Kingsbury was also clearly pessimistic when
he said that “if the reform movement had come to a standstill, or has been
reversed, in Indonesia’s more general political society, then it had certainly
come to a halt within the TNI [the Indonesian National Armed Forces].”13
9
Ibid, p. 622.
McBeth, John, “INDONESIA, The Military Fans Out,” Far Eastern Economic Review, September 26, 2002.
Liddle, William, Op. cit. See footnote 1
12
Aspinall, Edward., Opposing Suharto: Compromise, Resistance, and Regime Change in Indonesia, (Stanford,
California: Stanford University Press, 2005), p. 270.
13
Kingsbury, Damien, Power Politics and Indonesian Military, (London and New York: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003)
pp. 231, 246.
10
11
24
A great number of other works by Indonesian scholars with similar
accounts have been published post-Suharto.14 Because of limited space,
here it suffices to mention one excellent example, an Indonesian scholar
and military ‘insider’ Sukardi Rinakit who concluded that democratization
has reversed the New Order’s pattern of the military’s dominant political
role into that of the pre-New Order era. In this position, Sukardi said, the
military has a veto power that, based on its own judgment, it can impose at
a time of its own choice upon whichever civilian government it sees as
breaching the constitution – similar to the role of Turkey’s military.15
Why was reform doubted? Earlier in 1999, Harold Crouch noted that:
Most officers are more concerned with the short-term
implications of reform for them personally. In the absence of
adequate military pensions, officers have become accustomed
to a system which channels them into civilian positions as their
military careers draw to close. For them dwifungsi [dual
functions – defence and politics] is an ideology with very
practical consideration…[So] Whatever the theoretical
arguments in favour of reform, the interests of many ABRI
officers are tied to the old system.16
Terence Lee in his 2000 article, “The Nature and the Future of Civilmilitary Relations in Indonesia”, explained why “the Indonesian military
14
For example, Iswandi in 1998 wrote Bisnis Militer Orde Baru (New Order Military’s Business); Abdurrahman
Wahid (subsequently President from 1999-2001) contributed an article to a 1999 book, Berpolitik atau Kembali ke
Barak: Militer dalam Wacana Masyarakat Madani (Stay in Politics or Return to Barracks: Military in Civil Society
Discourse); Salim Said produced two works on the military in 2001, Militer Indonesia dan Politik: Dulu, Kini dan
Kelak (Indonesian Military: Past, Present and Future); and Wawancara tentang Tentara dan Politik (Interviews
about Soldiers and Politics); Anas S Machfudz and Jaleswari Pramodhawardani edited a collective work, Military
without Militarism: Suara Dari Daerah (Military without Militarism: Voices from the Regions), published in 2001;
and Zainuddin Maliki published his book, Birokrasi Militer dan Partai Politik dalam Negara Transisi (Military
Bureaucracy and Political Parties in a Transitional State) in 2002. Research institutions also produced a number
of books with military themes. This includes the Institute for Research and Empowerment and PacIt
?????ndonesia that published Tantangan dan Peluang Demiliterisme di Indonesia (Challenge and Opportunity
for Demilitarization in Indonesia) in 2000. Indonesian Corruption Watch (ICW) and the National Democratic
Institute (NDI) in 2003 published Bisnis Militer Mencari Legitimacy (Military Business Seeks Legitimacy). A
collective work of several military officers coordinated by a pro-reformist Major General Agus Wirahadikusuma
was published in1999. There has been also some individual officers’ works such as by Arif Yulianto who wrote
Hubungan Sipil Militer di Indonesia Pasca Orba: Ditengah Pusaran Demokrasi (Civil Military Relations in PostNew Order Indonesia: In the Middle of a Democratic Cyclone), which was published in 2002.
15
Rinakit, Sukardi, The Indonesian Military after the New Order (Singapore: ISEAS Press, 2005)
16
Crouch, Harold, “Wiranto and Habibie: Military-Civilian Relations Since May 1998,” in Reformasi: Crisis and
Change in Indonesia, eds. Arief Budiman, Barbara Hatley, and Damien Kingsbury (Clayton, Australia: Monash
Asia Institute, 1999), pp. 139-40.
25
continues to be politically omnipresent and still wields significant political
clout within the country”, by saying that,
The three key foundations of the armed forces’ role in politics
throughout its history – representation of the military in the
bureaucracy and government, territorial command structure,
and its involvement in economic activities – remain
intact…[While] Indonesia lacks strong civilian political
institutions.17
Similarly, Bilveer Singh argued that “the factor of the history of the state
and nation…[that] from the beginning, Indonesian armed forces have been
very political in character and remain so, all the more since the country
has a track record of weak civilian political leadership and institutions”.18
Again, Damien Kingsbury blamed the “chaotic” nature of Indonesia as the
justification for a central place for the post-Suharto military in Indonesian
politics.19
The reality about the military reform described above is an unfortunate
part of Indonesian democratization. However, the literature about
democratization suggests that such doubt should not be surprising, as it is
not unique to Indonesia. For example, by the beginning of the 1990s,
Huntington
suggested
that
some
countries
had
reversed
their
democratization into the previous authoritarianism20, and by the end of that
decade, Dahl was also accounting for frequent failures of democracy in
the twentieth century.21 As well, Carothers in 2002 has pointed out that:
Of the nearly 100 countries considered as ‘transitional’ in recent
years, only a relatively small number – probably fewer than 20 – are
clearly en route to becoming successful, well-functioning
17
Lee, Terence., “The Nature and Future of Civil-Military Relations in Indonesia”, Asian Survey, 40:4, pp. 701,
704-5.
18
Singh, Bilveer, “Civil-Military Relations in democratizing Indonesia: Change amidst continuity” Armed Forces
and Society. Summer 2000, Vol. 26, Iss. 4; pp. 607-633. See also Bilveer Singh. Civil-military Relations in
Democratizing Indonesia: The Potentials and Limits to Change (Canberra Strategic and Defense Studies Centre,
Australian National University, 2001).
19
Kingsbury, Damien, Power Politics and Indonesian Military, (London and New York: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003)
pp. 231, 246.
20
See Huntington, S. P., The Third Wave: Democratization in the Late Twentieth Century, (Norman: University of
Oklahoma Press, 1991).
21
Dahl, Robert A., On Democracy, (New Haven & London: Yale University Press, 1998), p. 145.
26
democracies or at least have made some democratic progress and
still enjoy a positive dynamic of democratization.22
These doubts raised earlier suggest that Indonesia is not yet to be
classified as among the small number of successful transitional countries.
However, this gloom about the prospect for a successful democratization
in Indonesia should not discourage the democratization. Instead, it should
be seen as more realistic in seeing and understanding the problems by
increasing the awareness about the complexity of its process. It may be
not fair to classify Indonesia into a group of countries, such as Uzbekistan,
Turkmenistan, Belarus and Togo, that failed in the earlier stage of
democratization and returned soon to authoritarian rule; perhaps, it may
be more appropriately fitted into a group of “transitional countries” that
have entered a “political grey zone”, a zone where the countries “are
neither dictatorial nor clearly headed toward democracy.23 In Jun Honna’s
words, the military response to reformasi has been a combination of
“openness” and “retreats” at different fronts.24 Moreover, this is a
continuing process and not a static condition. Thus, at any particular time,
before the current achievement of military reform can be evaluated, the
most up to date information must be obtained, with the complexity of the
reform process and its impacts recognized and explored to get closer to
the reality.
To comprehend and assess the interacting processes of democratization
and military politics in Indonesia, more and continuing studies are needed
that focus specifically on the form, extent and impact of the military
withdrawal in its differing settings across Indonesia. Most studies
mentioned above were effectively concentrated on the central military
leadership and its relationship with the democratization processes at the
national level. They have not covered local cases where25 the organization
22
Carothers, Thomas, “The End of the Transition Paradigm,” Journal of Democracy, Vol. 13, No.1, 2002, pp.521.
23
Ibid. Types of regime are discussed more in Chapter Three.
24
Quoted from Kammen’s review of Jun Honna’s 2003 Military Politics and the Indonesian Military. See
Kammen, D., “Recent Scholarship on the Indonesian Military”, Indonesia, Nr. 76, Oct 2003., pp. 215-220.
25
See Chapter Three.
27
and activities of the Indonesian military, from its foundational struggle for
national independence starting in 1945 and then ever since its attainment
in 1949, has always been deliberately and effectively integrated into the
politics and economics of local Indonesian society. This society varies
widely across the archipelago, and post-1998 reformasi has involved a
strong element of decentralization in its reaction against the previously
highly centralized New Order. The activities and reasoning of the military
in relation to processes of democratization at local and regional levels can
only be discovered and understood by studying them at the local and
regional levels, not merely inferred by what is thought and said at the
general headquarters.
2. Questioning towards this study
A large literature on the Indonesian military is now available, both in
English and Indonesian. As discussed more in Chapter Three, the central
questions have evolved from how and why the military was involved in
politics and the involvement developed into domination to how and why
the domination was maintained, then, most recently, to if, how and why,
the military is leaving politics. I have two main concerns about the existing
studies of Indonesian military in the latest phase, post-1998. The first
concern--based on the skeptical expressions illustrated above, is about
the need to broaden our understanding of how and why the military has
been leaving politics by examining which impacts have been achieved and
why others have not been. The second concern, explained more fully later,
is about the tendency to focus investigations mainly at the national level,
while paying inadequate systematic attention to military politics at the local
level in particular local settings. While, I share several of the doubts
expressed about the future of the military’s political reform, I am
concerned that data and analysis at the national level is insufficient to
generalize into a full picture of post-Suharto military politics. In this, I agree
with Douglass Kammen (quoted at the beginning of this chapter) about
Jun Honna’s work that “less doctrinal and contextual analysis and more
28
attention to local military entrenchment might have yielded more insights
into Indonesia’s stalled democratic project”.26 More local, regional and
district, level approaches are needed, not to compete with, but to
complement, what has been researched and reported at the national level.
The fact is that there is insufficient systematic information about how military
withdrawal has been implemented at the local level. What impacts has this
withdrawal created and how have both local military and local civilian actors
reacted, affected or been affected by the withdrawal process? How far are those
impacts significant to analyses of the extent of the democratic transformation of
civil-military relations? Is it enough to assume, for instance, that the military is so
cohesive and independent an institution that every instruction issued from the
central headquarters in Jakarta would have been followed immediately and
precisely at each and every step down the formal structure? If this assumption is
not made then how far can an account of military reform at the centre be believed
to convincingly portray military reform where most military personnel operate, at
regional, district or village levels? How far are examinations and speculations
about the relations between military national leaders and President Wahid and his
PKB party, or these military and Megawati Sukarnoputri and her PDIP party at the
centre sufficient to be paralleled by and accurately represent local party-local
military relations across the local complexities of Indonesia? Such questions have
rarely been seriously posed or answered in the recent studies. So, for the purpose
of exploring the complexity (instead of the generalization) of the military political
withdrawal, studies need to look more to the local, from the village up to the
regional levels of the military structure.
In the post-Suharto period studies of Indonesian local democracy – often
as studies of decentralization – have become abundant, but studies of
local military are quite few. However, it is common to find within the
analyses of democratization and decentralization the connections to local
military behaviour included among the factors being blamed as obstacles.
The military personnel might be included in the analytic frameworks as
26
See footnote 1.
29
factors such as “local mafia, networks and clans”,27 with, unfortunately,
most referenced to the New Order as portrayed by studies published pre1999. Such notorious behaviour of the military may not have changed
quickly in the immediate post-Suharto era, but more information about
continuing or new patterns of such behaviours, as well as other aspects of
military politics, also need to be explored for understanding the quality of
democratisation.
In a distortion, when studies did include the local military politics, they
have mainly covered “trouble spot areas” in more peripheral regions, such
as East Timor before the disintegration, Aceh, Irian Jaya or Maluku, which
cannot be simply assumed to represent and explain the military politics in
much larger, more stable, core areas. For example, Robinson, in his
chapter “Indonesia: On a New Course” in the 2001 book edited by Muthiah
Alagappa taking the same local case study: “East Timor after The New
Order.”28 This work has directed the attention more to the cases of human
rights violence as reported by observers than to examinations of the
changing organization of the military from insider perspectives.
Two useful essays, published in the collection Local Power and Politics in
Indonesia: Decentralisation and Democratisation, revealed some features
of changing military politics at the local level.29 Michael Malley, in his "New
Rules, Old Structures and the Limits of Democratic Decentralisation",
provided some insights about the declining trend in military occupation of
local civilian jobs with little (insignificant) change in the political cultures
but was too limited to provide further understandings of the actual
processes of military withdrawal at the local level. Marcus Mietzner, in his
"Business as Usual? The Indonesian Armed Forces and Local Politics in
27
See for example Sidel, John T., “Bossism and Democracy in the Philippines, Thailand and Indonesia: Towards
an Alternatives Framework for the Study of ‘Local Strongmen’,” in Harris, John, Stokke Kristian & Tőrnquist, Olle,
(ed.), Politicising democracy: the new local politics and democratization (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004)
pp.51-74.
28
Robinson, Geoffrey, “Indonesia: On a New Course”, in Muthiah Alagappa, Coercion and Governance: The
Declining Political Role of the Military in Asia, (Stanford, California: Stanford University Press, 2001), pp. 240, 251257.
29
Edward Aspinall and Greg Fealy (eds), Local Power and Politics in Indonesia: Decentralisation
and Democratisation. (Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2003).
30
the Post-Suharto Era", gave many useful insights about military politics in
non-trouble spot areas. However, the book, published in 2003, was of
edited papers from the Australian National University’s Indonesia Update
conference in mid-2002; so, in addition to its small scale of study, could
not cover what has happened since then.
In limited ways some Indonesia scholars have tried to approach local
cases. Sutoro Eko in 2000, for example, published Masyarakat
Pascamiliter:
Tantangan dan
Peluang
Demiliterisme
di
Indonesia
(Postmilitary Society: Challenges and Opportunities of Demilitarism in
Indonesia) which, by using a sample of villagers of Yogyakarta, examined
people’s tendency to adopt militaristic attitudes.30 This work seems very
limited within sociological features of militarist attitudes of the civilians,
disconnected from a broader political process, besides not covering the
perspective of the military itself. Another study at the local level has been
reported in a small book by Hermawan Sulistyo, Bedil & Kursi (Guns and
Seats). A fifty-page chapter of “Bikini dan Bedil: Ekonomi Politik Hubungan
Sipil Militer di Bali” (Bikinis and Guns: Political economic civil-military
connections in Bali) of this book provided important information about local
cases. However, the chapter was based on a small study which covered a
wide range of topics, from economic to political to military-professional
aspects, again appears to lack sufficient data and deep analysis. A most
recent work, published in 2005, is an essay by Sukardi Rinakit,
“Decentralization and the Military” in Regionalism in Post-Suharto
Indonesia, that analyses the military’s perception about decentralization.
Nevertheless, in addition to its small scale, because this essay is mainly
based on secondary sources rather than original, primary, data both the
new information and analysis being provided is limited.
To the best of my knowledge, therefore, no large-scale military-political
studies focussed on systematic examination of cases at local levels have
been completed. This thesis attempts to partly fulfil the pressing need for
30
Eko, Sutoro, Masyarakat Pascamiliter : Tantangan dan Peluang Demiliterisme di Indonesia, (Yogyakarta:
Institute for Research and Empowerment and Pact Indonesia, 2000)
31
such enquiries by studying the implementation and the immediate impacts
of the military withdrawal from politics in post-Suharto Indonesia (1998 to
2003) using the East Java province as a case study.
3. Research aims and questions
The practical aim of this study is to explain the local transformation of civilmilitary relations in post-Suharto Indonesia in a major region. Its specific
objectives are, to describe the process of the military’s political withdrawal
at the local level, to identify the immediate impacts of the withdrawal both
on the local military and local politics, and based on the understanding
about the process and the impact, to analyse the problems in
democratizing civil miliary relations at the local level. Theoretically, this
study is, therefore, aimed at enriching the discourses on the topic of
military withdrawal from politics in a democratic transitional period,
especially in establishing conditions essential to the establishment of civil
military relation pattern which is compatible with democracy.
Flowing from those aims are three sets of operational questions. The first set was
related to the process of military withdrawal at the local level. In the East Java
context, what kind of picture of political developments during the 1998/1999
democratic movements emerged and how can they be attributed to local
campaigns that pushed the process of the withdrawal to happen? Specifically,
how have the patterns of relations between the local military and local society
changed? Then, what kinds of reform/withdrawal policies were implemented in
East Java, and how have these policies changed the military’s systematic control
of local government and local legislature, and local politics in general? How have
the military been separated from these civilian institutions and the political
networks that linked the local military to these institutions been dismantled?
32
The second set of questions was about the impacts of the withdrawal process.
How have the local military units, officers, civilian actors or political institutions
reacted to, affected or been affected by the withdrawal? How have the withdrawal
process had impacts on the effectiveness of political activities of the loca military,
for example, in determining the outcomes of the Elections of Heads of Local
Governments? Then, what happened to the officers who previously have been
assigned civilian jobs? Also, what happened to the local military institutions
(Komando Teritorial/ Territorial Commands) after the reform policies were
implemented? As well, what happened to civilian politics after the military
departure. Has it become more democratic or not, and why?
The third set of questions is about the significance of the study to a theoretical
explanation about the transformation of civil-military relations. As discussed later
in the theoretical review in Chapter Two, a democratic civil-military relationship is
characterized by the existence of a strong, effective and professional military
which is under an effective control of a strong, effective and democratic civilian
political system. Therefore, the study’s questions were about the extent to which
the military withdrawal since 1998 has produced useful conditions for creating
such a character at the local level; has the local military become more
professional and, has the local political system become more effective and
democratic after the withdrawal, if not, what have been the problems in
establishing such conditions?
4. Significance and limitation of the study
This thesis has its significance but also limitations. Its significance lies in
its timely topic involving Indonesian democratization and military politics
and in its new approach toward local cases. It thus serves the interests of
those scholars interested in questions both of Indonesian and of more
general democratization, civil-military relations or military politics, as well
as in Indonesian or Southeast Asian area studies. Hopefully, it can also be
used by Indonesian policy makers and politicians, for example, as a
reference for understanding problems in initiating policies related to the
military reform agenda. Better understanding the achievement of
33
withdrawal of the military from politics is important in comprehending the
degree and quality of Indonesian democratization. This recent dramatic
change in the history of military politics in Indonesia, after a long-standing
involvement, must have involved a complex process and far-reaching
impacts both on the military and the civilian societies; therefore the study
will help explain some of this complexity. Although the study is confined to
the military withdrawal in only one province, East Java, this is a major
region, the most populous in Indonesia,31 with a population of over 33
million which would make it about the world’s 35th largest country if it were
an independent nation-state. Moreover, such regional studies are
necessary to build an adequate picture of the complete Indonesian
situation given the likely variations between the regions across the world’s
fourth largest society, of about 250 million. Commonalities need to be
demonstrated rather than presumed.
However, it is important that the study’s limitations are also recognized.
Because of its topic and its approach, there are influential areas at the
national level – such as national elite relations and policy making
processes – that this study does not cover. It neither covers all or even a
possibly representative sample of geographical local areas of Indonesia
nor all aspects of local military politics. Due to issues of access and
resources many important but sensitive areas, like military intelligence and
business activities, were unable to be addressed in this thesis. Also this
thesis is not intended to build new theoretical concepts about the impact of
the military withdrawal. Limited time, limited resources, and its reliance on
a specific-area (Indonesian) case study, rather than a large scale
comparative approach using various countries, makes it less able to
address many types of theories of military politics. Nevertheless, it
attempts to make a substantial contribution theoretically by providing much
31
East Java used to be the second most populous province after West Java before the separation of Banten
(that formed another province) from West Java in 2000. In addition, Camboek Berdoeri [Kwee Thiam Tjing], for
example, described East Java as one of the provinces with its great social diversity in local cultures, and having
open minded people with relatively “egalitarianism” or less feudal compared to Central Java, Bali, or West
Javanese. See Berdeori, Camboek., Indonesia Dalem Api dan Bara, (Jakarta, ELKA, c2004), p. 40-41.
34
of that detailed case information and theoretical interpretation which is
needed for future efforts of theory building.
5. Thesis organization
To introduce the thesis, this Chapter One provides a short background for
the study, the research aim and questions, the significance and limitation
of the study, and the organization of the thesis.
Chapter Two provides a theoretical direction for the study by discussing
the theories pertinent to the study, and that this research could, hopefully,
contribute to. It discusses four important concepts that are strongly
connected to the withdrawal of the military from politics: military
intervention and military rule, civilian control and supremacy, military
withdrawal, and democratization. The concepts explain two different forms
of regime (military and democratic) and two types of civil-military relations,
the patterns and the reasons for their coming into being, thus are
important for judging whether or not there has been a transformation, as
well as how to measure the extent of it. This theoretical chapter shows that
there is not a clear-cut boundary between a military and a democratic
regime; thus the complexity of military withdrawal does not start from a
clearly-definable point of departure, and the process and impact of each
stage or of each element of the process do not always complement each
other, but also on some occasions being obstacles to each other in the
democratization achievement. This discussion suggests how complex and
difficult, but also crucial, is the process of transforming civil-military
relations as a part of democratization.
Chapter Three generally provides an historical background, but specifically
has two aims. One is to provide information about the character of military
politics in Indonesia and other possible historical elements needing to be
considered in interpreting the process and the impact of the withdrawal
and its problems. The other is to provide a picture of the pre-1998 military
35
politics, as the starting point of departure, so that it gives a clear idea
about how far the process of withdrawal has taken place and how
significant are the impacts which have been made. This chapter argues
that the history shows that it is necessary to emphasize strongly the
difficulties rooted in the process and the impacts of modernization and
professionalism of both political and military institutions, which took place
under
unstable
political
circumstances
both
internationally
and
domestically. Importantly, similar difficulties have remained, as shown
across the thesis, in the process of military withdrawal from politics since
1998. In addition, this chapter shows that the deep involvement of the
military in local politics during the New Order was mainly a corollary
consequence of institutional and structural adjustments that were aimed at
expanding the military‘s control over politics, as direct implications of the
implementations of the military’s political doctrine, namely, Dwifungsi or
Dual Function. This description suggests that dis-assembling or reversing
the adjustments would be important to cut down the military’s political
power.
The methodology for this research is described in Chapter Four. This
outlines the research strategy, namely, a multi-strategy analysis, a local
case study approach, and semi-grounded and snowball data collection
techniques, and explains the reasons for choosing these kinds of strategy.
It also details how the activities of data collection were carried out, and
addresses how the issue of confidentiality was handled, such as how a
coding system was used to protect the sources and the actors.
Chapters Five to Eleven document and discuss the process and the
impact of the military withdrawal from politics in East Java since 1998.
While the preceding chapters rely mainly on secondary data, these seven
‘findings’ chapters use the primary data gathered during the one-year field
study from February 2002 to February 2003.
Chapter Five describes the instability brought about by multidimensional
crisis during 1998 and 1999 in East Java, demonstrating how military36
society relations changed dramatically, a situation that involved public
pressures for the military withdrawal from politics and a condition under
which the withdrawal began to be implemented. This chapter argues that
there was a strong dialectical relationship among three change indicators:
the collapse of law and order, military demoralization, and the emergence
of grassroots democracy. The military demoralization – a collective
expression of frustration, confusion, and feelings of uncertainty among the
officers and soldiers – was strongly connected to the restraint of the
military’s coercive capacity and the widening of political participation that
marked an emergence of the grassroots-like democracy. At the same
time, however, the military demoralization also negatively led toward a
psychologically serious degradation of professionalism and effectiveness,
and contributed significantly to the worsening of the instability or the
collapse of law and order. These three developments were important
indicators of the local reactions to, as an impact on, the society-military
relations, brought about by the initial signs of a regime change, including
the military withdrawal from politics.
Chapter Six details broad functional changes of military structures and
political institutions in East Java that took place, mainly in 1999 and 2000,
as the implementation of the withdrawal policies initiated at the national
level. This chapter demonstrates how the military political networks, which
were the result of organizational, functional adjustment during the New
Order, were dis-assembled and reversed to the original, pre-New Order
outlook; then it discusses how important this reversal was to reforming
military politics at the local level. Three set of policies are outlined and
discussed here. One is the elimination of political elements that had been
previously attached to the territorial command structures, including Staf
Sospol (Staff of Social and Politics), Wansospolda/rem (the Regional or
Sub-regional Social and Political Board), Bakorstanasda (the Regional
Coordinating Board of National Strategy, Stabilization and Resilience), and
Litsus (Special Screening). The second is the withdrawal of military
officers from political institutions, namely, the bureaucracy and legislature,
and other civilian jobs. The third is the decentralization of governmental
37
decision-making processes, which indirectly, but significantly, reduced the
military’s control over local politics.
Chapters Seven and Eight document East Java’s District Head Elections
from 1998 to 2003. As demonstrated in Chapter Seven, these local
elections exemplify the changing trends of military politics at the local
level. The trends shown by these elections are important to understand
influences of all the changing process and impacts of the military politics
discussed in the previous chapters – such as changes in society-military
relations, changes in military political networks, as well as impacts on the
sudden major losses in financial and political terms discussed in a chapter
afterward – on military power and influence in key local political events.
This chapter argues that, in general, the elections indicate a generally
consistent trend in the decline of the military’s control over local politics,
and an increase in civilian political power. While Chapter Seven focuses
on the general institutional level of local military politics, Chapter eight
scrutinizes the political activities of the individual officers involved in the
local elections. These two chapters, generally, but more specifically
Chapter Eight emphasizes, that the decline of the military’s political roles
has included a drastic weakening of its institutional control over the
political behaviours of officers who were actively involved in the local
elections; and this represents a heterogeneity of political preferences, lack
of solidarity, and internal control within the military. This heterogeneity was
on many occasions, for personal reasons, influenced by personal
channels with civilian political groups. This recalls the similar historical
facts that, as discussed in Chapter Three, the involvements of the military
officers in politics were also significantly caused by the weakness of this
the military’s institutional control instead of solely ‘this’ civilian’s.
Chapters Nine and Ten examine the immediate impacts of the reformasi
on the local military. Chapter Nine examines the impact (of the disassembling of military political networks resulted from the functional and
structural changes discussed in Chapter Six) on former political karya
officers, namely, those who were withdrawn from civilian jobs, military38
turned-civilian
Regents
and
Mayors,
and
the
remaining
military
representatives in the DPRD (the local parliaments). Chapter Ten
examines further the impacts on and reactions of the local military units to
the reform policies. The two chapters argue that the ways daily sociopolitical activities which individual soldiers, officers or even units carried
out at the local level were also controlled by very practical, and short terms
considerations, which, if not contradicting the concepts and values,
frequently had no clear implications for the existence or absence of the
doctrines. Therefore, the ways the personnel reacted have been
influenced as much by their perceptions and understanding about these
practical matters as by the official doctrines. Further, Chapter Ten argues
that the large financial cuts experienced by the local territorial units have
made them also less capable of fulfilling their professional duties, mainly
because of having been accustomed to relying heavily on financial and
material resources guaranteed by the political networks which now were
being abolished. This created an important challenge in professionalizing
the military.
Chapter Eleven examines and discusses features of public political
participation and the political institutions in the East Java Province after
the 1998 movements, and explains the complexity of some of the
problems that have emerged. It scrutinizes the two biggest parties in East
Java, the PKB/Partai Kebangkitan Bangsa (National Awakening Party)
and
PDIP/Partai
Demokrasi
Indonesia
Perjuangan
(Indonesian
Democratic Party of Struggle). Based on indicators provided by these two
parties, it argues that the military political withdrawal has broadened the
local civilian elite base from Golkar-bureaucrat elites to include newlycreated-party-based elites; but the withdrawal has not substantially
increased public political participation, nor soon resulted in a strong
democratic institutions Therefore has not automatically developed into a
locally strong democratic political system necessary for an effective civilian
control over the local military.
39
Chapter Twelve summarizes and interprets what have been discussed in
previous chapters, and concludes that in the military region of East Java
the withdrawal has had important local impacts in terms of transferring
formal authority from the military to civilian actors and structures.
However, it has also had negative impacts that complicate attempts to
professionalize the military and to institutionalize an effective democratic
political system, thus obstructing the democratic consolidation to sustain
and to continue what has been achieved by the power transfer. Among
other important factors (both external and internal to the military) which
need close attention by scholars and practitioners are the weakness of
governance by civilians and internal control over its officers by the military
top leadership.
Chapter Two
40
REGIME CHANGE and MILITARY WITHDRAWAL:
Theoretical Framework
There still remain those very numerous cases where, as we have
seen, the military are so powerful and the civilian forces so
inchoate and feeble that, come what may, the military are bound
to dominate politics.32
Armed forces inherently are political institutions. … A continuum
of interactions exists between civilians and members of the armed
forces, with the result that civilian control of the military is never
absolute, nor military control over politics ever total.33
1. Introduction
When reading the first quote above, one should not be pessimistic
about the prospect of a regime change, the withdrawal of the military
from politics and the establishment of an apolitical military and a solely
civilian democratic political system. Yet, one should be aware that this
process is very complex, and so should not put too high an
expectation on the process and the impact being an absolute one,
with the second quote as a cautionary reminder. Similarly, Brooker
has claimed that, “…military intervention [rather than civilian control] is
actually a matter of degree rather than a simply yes/ no question.”34
This chapter discusses theories and concepts related to the process
of a regime change from military to democratic. It presents and
analyses crucial concepts that have been proposed for the exploration
of potential changes in the relationships between the military and
politics in a state, including the concepts of ‘Military regime’,
‘Democratic regime’, ‘Democratization’ and ‘Military withdrawal’. It
considers how far these are absolute, discrete and independent
32
Finer, S. E., The Man on the Horseback: The Role of the Military in Politics (London: Printer Publishers, 1988),
p. 222.
33
Welch, Jr. Claude E., Civilian Control of The Military: Theory and Cases from Developing Countries, (New
York: State University of New York Press, 1976), p. 35.
34
Brooker, Paul, Non-democratic Regimes: Theory, Government and Politics, (London: Macmillan Press, 2000),
p. 76.
41
concepts rather than being interrelated and names for ranges along a
continuum. This is relevant both to more adequate understanding of
military-civilian relationships in general and also in recognizing what to
look for in an empirical examination of changes in particular cases,
such as those in Indonesian society.
Specific theories for the study of military political withdrawal at the local
level have not been found so far. One possible reason, as noted earlier, is
that there has been insufficient attention paid to such local study. Another
explanation might be that issues at the local level should not be seen as
separate from similar topics of military politics which have been studied at
the national level, so there should not be an urgent need to invent new
theories specific to local study. This chapter is not attempting to do so,
instead it attempts to find a place where such local study will fit into the
bigger pictures of theoretical discourses on military politics or on civilmilitary relations. In doing this, it elaborates several existing theories or
concepts pertinent to them.
The following section will firstly describe how military and democratic
regimes have been defined. The next section will discuss the processes of
regime change, followed by an outline of the possible impacts of military
political withdrawals.
2. Defining a regime
Militaries in different countries, or in a single country over different times, have
different positions in the political arena on a wide range of factors. Several
scholars have put these into two sets.35 The first is related to the military itself,
such as: the nature of military institutions; the social backgrounds and motives of
the military leaders; factionalism in the military establishment; military
professionalism; and the military mission and roles. The second set is attributed to
35
Alagappa, Muthiah, Coercion and Governance: the Declining Political Role of the Military in Asia (Stanford,
California: Stanford University Press, 2000) p.41.
42
the national and international environment where the military exists, including:
historical legacies; ideology; political culture; development of civil society; strength
of civilian institutions; levels of economic developments; and changes in the
international context. Differences in those factors produce different types of
regime, democratic or military.36 In order to adequately understand a regime
change from a ‘military’ to a ‘democratic’ one, it is essential first to understand how
each of these types of regime has been defined. This section presents some
typologies that define these regimes.
2.1. Military regimes
There have been a number of ways of categorizing ‘military regimes’.
Important writings include those of Finer (1962, 1988), Perlmutter (1977),
Nordlinger (1977) and Huntington (1988).37
Finer defines a ‘military regime’ as a regime where there exists “evidence
that the government is in the hands of the armed forces or that it acts
entirely or predominantly at their command”.38 He proposes five structural
types of military regimes: “indirect limited”, “indirect complete”, “direct
quasi-civilianized”, “direct”, and “dual”. The first two involve military control
behind the scenes, over limited elements or the complete activities of the
civilian government. The “direct” types are characterized by open military
control with military leaders holding positions of chief executives, president
and/or government ministers. The “direct quasi-civilianized” regime
involves a military-created political party which is “emanating from and
dependent on the military”. In a “dual” regime, a military officer holds both
positions of leader of the military and of a civilian political organization,
which is otherwise independent of the military organization, to uphold his
authority.39
36
Donald Horowitz in 1980, as quoted in Alagappa, Ibid, p.41.
For a detailed review of these typologies see Brooker, Paul, Non-democratic Regimes: Theory, Government
and Politics, (London: Macmillan Press, 2000).
38
Finer, Op. cit, p. 149.
39
Finer systematically identified five types of military regime: “indirect-limited”, “indirect complete”, “direct quasicivilianized”, “direct”, and “dual”. In the two “indirect” types the military controls behind the scenes, over either
37
43
Other scholars have attempted to classify military regimes based on the
roles of the military in politics. Perlmutter categorizes military intervention
on the basis of whether it is carried out by military acting as an “Arbitrator”
or by a “Ruler”. The former accepts the existing order and has an intention
to withdraw after the settlement of the disputes. The latter rejects it and,
because of distrust in civilian rule, has no intention of retreating. An
“Arbitrator” has no political organization and does not intend to maximize
military rule. In contrast, a “Ruler” has “a political organization and tends to
maximize army rule.”40
Nordlinger also classified three types of military regimes. On the basis of
two factors – the degree of a regime’s political /economic objectives and
the degree of the governmental power exerted by the military – he
categorizes regimes into “Moderator”, “Guardian” and “Ruler”. The “Ruler”
type involves the greatest degree with its most ambitious goals and with
the military exerting the greatest amount of power, dominating almost all
aspects of political, economic and social life of the state and society. The
“Guardian” and “Moderator” types have limited objectives, with the former
preferring direct rule and the latter an indirect one.41
Huntington based his typology on the specific roles played by the military
in “modernizing societies”. He classifies these into three types that differ in
relation to their level of political participation in the society; from the
“Radical/Reformer” type with a low level of political participation to the
“Arbiter/Stabilizer” type with medium and “Guardian/Vetoer” with high
participation.
limited objectives or all activities of the civilian government. The “direct” types are open military regimes or military
governments; where military leaders hold positions of chief executives, president and/ or government ministers.
“Direct quasi-civilianized” is marked by the existence of a military-created political party which is created by and
dependent on the military. In a “dual” type, a military officer holds a position as both a military leader and a civilian
political organization leader, and balances the two institutions to uphold his authority. Unlike in a “direct quasicivilianized”, in a “dual” type the civilian organization is independent of the military institution. Finer, Ibid, p. 149 –
186.
40
Perlmutter, Amos, The Military and Politics in Modern Times: on Professionals, Praetorians, and Revolutionary
Soldiers., (New Haven: Yale University Press. 1977), pp. 104-108.
41
As quoted from Brooker, Op. cit, p. 48.
44
As Brooker42has attempted to show, there are some correspondences
between these four typologies. (See Table II.1). These typologies are
useful in classifying the various forms of military government in Indonesia,
thus of what was being departed from in the period of this research.
Table II. 1: Typologies of Military Rule
Perlmutter
Nordlinger Huntington
Finer
1. Arbitrator
1.
1. Radical
1. Indirect-limited
2. Ruler
Moderator
reformer
2. Indirect3. Party-army (evolves
2. Guardian 2.
complete
from ruler)
3. Ruler
Arbiter/stabilizer
3. Dual
3.
4. Direct
Guardian/Vetoer 5. Direct quasicivilianized
Source: Adapted from Brooker. p.45, changes are made slightly to
the numbering order.
2.2. Democratic regime
As noted above, in a “military regime” the ruler is the military; it rules either
overtly/directly or covertly/indirectly. In contrast, a “democracy” is defined,
for example by Huntington, as a system where: “most powerful collective
decision makers are selected through fair, honest, and periodic elections
in which candidates freely compete for votes and in which virtually all the
adult population is eligible to vote”.43 Democracy recognizes “civil and
political freedoms to speak, publish, assemble, and organize that are
necessary to political debate and the conduct of electoral campaigns”.44
So, ideally, civilian leaders in a democratic regime come into power
through a fair and free election, and when they come into power they
exercise the actual political power.45
Unlike in a military regime, in a democratic regime the military remains
“neutral politically and ideologically”, and is separated from political
42
Brooker, Ibid, p. 48.
See Huntington, S. P., The Third Wave: Democratization in the Late Twentieth Century, (Norman: University of
Oklahoma Press, 1991), p. 6-7.
44
Huntington also incorporated two “critical” factors proposed by Robert Dahl: “contestation and participation”. Ibid,
pp. 6 – 7.
45
For a more comprehensive discussion about the criteria of “ideal” or “actual” democracy see for example Dahl,
Robert A., On Democracy, (New Haven & London: Yale University Press, 1998), especially Parts II and III.
43
45
institutions; the military is also subordinated to and controlled by the
democratically elected civilian authority, through “a series of constitutional
checks and balances”.46 The scope and level of the civil-military relations
where it can exercise a limited amount of political roles is limited within a
national security policy that has three forms: military security policy,
internal security policy, and situational security policy. A military security
policy deals mainly with external threats, an internal security policy with
internal threats, and a situational security policy with the long-term threats
brought about by changes in social, economic and political conditions.
Each of these forms has two levels: institutional and operational. The
place for civil-military relations is at the institutional level, which involves
mainly decision-makers at the elite levels, of the form of military security
policy.47 Consequently, the military’s professional responsibility is limited
to “military security”.48 This limitation of the area for exercising civil-military
relations does not exist in a military regime, where the military’s
professional responsibility focuses “on internal rather than military security
of society”.49
However, these differences are not a black-white division, because in
practice there is not a clear-cut line dividing political roles for the military in
democratic and non-democratic regimes, partly because of unclear
borders both between the military security policy and the other two
(internal and situational) security polices and between the institutional and
operational levels.50 Welch suggested that the military political role should
not be questioned in terms of an absolute “whether” or not, but in terms of
the “how much and of what kind” because “any military has its [own]
political system”. He argued that, “given organizational identity, autonomy,
46
See Huntington, S. P., The Soldier and the State: the Theory and Politics of Civil-Military Relations,
(Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1957), pp 83-85.
47
Ibid, pp.1-2. See also Dahl, On Democracy, p. 147.
48
Huntington, The Soldier and the State, pp. 11-18
49
Alfred Stepan proposed a new professionalism for new independent states. Security and national development
are viewed as inseparable parts. For the reasons of this new professionalism, however, he said, the military could
become motivated to intervene in politics. See Stepan, Alfred, Authoritarian Brazil (New Haven and London Yale
University Press, 1976), p. 48.
50
Huntington, The Soldier and the State, Op. cit, p. 2.
46
and functional specialization … (the military) can not be precluded from
the political arena”.51
Welch graded the degree of the military involvement in politics in a similar
fashion to Finer; but while Finer did this in terms of the military regime,
Welch did it in terms of the civilian political control. Welch asserted that
“civilian control always occurs within a context of some forms of military
involvement in politics”. He drew “a continuum of relationships” where “the
power of the military and the power of civilian institutions relative to the
enunciation, development, and implementation of policy” are present. (See
Table II.2)
Table II. 2: Degree of military political involvement
Welch:
Military Influence – Military Participation – Military Control – Military control
(Civilian control)
(with partners)
(without partners)
Finer:
Indirect limited – Indirect complete – Dual – Direct quasi-civilianized - Direct
The above discussion suggests that there is a risk of oversimplification
when trying to define a regime whether it be a military regime, democratic
regime or something in between, because it seems that there could be
difficulty in fitting a regime neatly in one category. Nevertheless, it is
possible to examine whether a regime in a certain period of time is
becoming, or will become in the future, more or less democratic.
Therefore, instead of trying to define Indonesian regimes precisely based
on the above categories, a main task of this study is to evaluate to what
extent, and why, post-1998 Indonesia from the local level perspective has
become more or less democratic. In order to be able to carry out this
evaluation, we need to understand concepts related to the process and
the impact involved in becoming more or less democratic. As discussed
below, the process that makes a regime less democratic or more
51
Welch, Op. cit, p. 2. Despite this, Costa Rica in 1950 eliminated the threat to its democracy by eliminating its
military, which however would not be likely to be followed by any other country. See Dahl, Op. cit. p. 149.
47
militaristic is called “military political intervention”, while what makes it
more democratic or less militaristic is a “military political withdrawal”. The
next discussion is focused on the second of these contrary processes.
3. Process of military withdrawal
3.1. Patterns and stages
The explanation about how a military withdrawal happens has been
integrated into the broader explanation about how a transition to
democracy occurs. Scholars have suggested that it can involve various
patterns. For example, Finer mentioned an “abdication” pattern where the
military withdraws because of being badly discredited or under
overwhelming pressures;52 Rustow used the term “pact” to emphasis “a
compromise agreement”;53 and Brooker added another pattern, “dictated”,
where the military is politically strong and leads the transition to
democracy.54 Huntington named these patterns differently but still with
similar meanings – they are respectively, “replacement”, “transplacement”
and “transformation”.55
In a simpler way, Welch divides the withdrawal process into two different
routes of withdrawal based on the speed or duration of the process –
(forced) “breakdown” and (voluntary) “extrication”.56 While the former
involves a rapid collapse of a military government, “a euphoric change of
government with little staying power”, the latter, he said, lengthens for
several years involving liberalization – in which an authoritarian regime
52
See Finer, Op. cit, p. 174-178. See also O’Donnell, Guillermo and P C. Schmitter and L. Whitehead, (eds.),
Transition from Authoritarian Rule: Tentative Conclusions about Uncertain Democracies (Baltimore: Johns
Hopkins University Press), pp. 20, 21, 35, 39.
53
As quoted in Brooker, Op, cit, p. 202.
54
Brooker, Ibid, pp. 206-207.
55
Huntington compared these three types of process with similar typologies by Linz, and Share and Mainwaring,
and suggested that they are “the same ideas” but just “use different words”. See Huntington, The Third Wave, Op.
cit., p. 114.
56
Welch Jr, Claude E., “Military Disengagement from Politics: Paradigms, Process, or Random Events”, Armed
Forces and Society, Vol.18, No.3, Spring 1992, pp.323-342. See also Welch Jr, Claude E., “Long Term
Consequences of Military Rule: Breakdown and Extrication,” Journal of Strategies Studies 1, September 1978,
pp. 139-151.
48
liberalizes – “a mixture of policy and social changes, including toleration of
political opposition, but may not include a real opportunity for opponents to
achieve power peacefully”. He argues that a voluntary extrication
produces a less negative impact on the likelihoods of long-term
achievement of liberalization and/or democratization. However, he also
suggests that liberalization may be less as a basic change in the regime’s
foundation than as a strategy of maintaining the status quo. In fact, most
withdrawals by military regimes, as Allagappa claimed, were forced
instead of self initiated.57
According to Huntington, however, commonly two or more transition
processes come together in “every historical case”, although one type of
process may dominate the others, so the transitions may start with one
type but then become another.58 Similarly, Welch said that “[e]ven the
most precipitous flight from political responsibility involves some planning;
even the most highly planned and phased military disengagements from
power reflect elements of pressure from segments of society”.59 So, Welch
re-asserted the complexity of a regime change. The purpose of this study,
therefore, is not to define which pattern(s) would fit the process of military
political withdrawal in post-1998 Indonesia, but instead to explore the
complexity of its process – where, when and how in East Java the military
was weaker, equal or stronger politically vis-á-vis the civil society; what
aspect(s) of the process seemed (or did not seem) to be easily or quickly
completed; or in which part of the withdrawal the politics seems to be
becoming more or less democratic.
57
Allagappa, Op. cit, p. 52
Huntington, The Third Wave, Op.cit., p. 11459
Welch Jr, Civilian Control, Op.cit, p.327. See also the quote in footnote 1. By considering all those patterns, in a
long-standing military regime, an evolution from liberalization to democratization, or from transformation to
replacement, can be drawn as in Appendix 2. The table is a modification of Brooker’s table in which each of the
three models is depicted as a separate and independent event. The table tells us that the withdrawal of the
military from politics could evolve from one pattern to another, although an extensive withdrawal could happen
over a short period of time resulting from a dramatic change in political circumstances. At one point of time, the
military is still strong enough to control the situation, but initiates the agenda to leave politics with or without
agreements with the civilian opposition, which then widens opportunity for the latter to become very powerful in
replacing the military regime. The table is quite useful to understand the long evolution of military regime in
Indonesia which will be discussed in chapter Three. For information about the original table See Brooker, Op. cit.,
figure 8.2, p. 208.
58
49
3.2. Influential factors on military withdrawals
What conditions lead to, or speed up, the process of military withdrawal is
a matter of great debate in the study of military politics, and the questions
are more or less similar to the questions about which factors condition
military intervention in politics, or increase the intervention. The debate
about this issue has centred around three major concepts: “military
intervention”, “military withdrawal”, and “civilian control”. At least three
groups of concepts of military politics have been very influential over the
last four decade. One of these models, originating in Finer’s 1962 work,
The Man on the Horseback, suggests that two factors, “disposition and
opportunity”, are pertinent to the military’s political involvement occurring.60
“Disposition” refers to factors internal to the military including military
ideology and values, institutional
or individual
officers’ interests;
“opportunity” to external factors including social, cultural, political or
economic circumstances of the country. The other two models involve
competing priorities in causation, each emphasising one set of factors
over another. While Janowitz in his 1960 Professional Soldier stressed the
(military)
internal
factors,
especially
“social
background”
and
“organizational characteristics” of the military,61 Huntington in his 1968
Political Order in Changing Society put more emphasis on (social) external
factors, specifically “the political and institutional structure of the society”.62
These concepts have been widely used to explain not only military
interventions into, but also withdrawals from, politics.63
60
Finer reached this conclusion based on a comparative study over one hundred countries studying why and
how the military interventions in politics occurred. See Finer, Samuel. E., The Man on The Horse Back, (Colorado:
Westview Press, Inc, 1982).
61
By “military characteristics” Janowitz was referring to the military’s “control of violence instruments; its ethos of
public service and national identifications; its skill structure, which combines managerial ability with a heroic
posture; and its internal social cohesion that produces stable leadership”. What he meant by “social background”
was that because the officers are recruited from the middle and lower-middle classes they do not have strong
loyalty to an integrated upper class as political leaders. Janowitz, Morris, The Professional Soldier: A Social and
Political Portrait (USA: The Free Press. 1960). pp. 27-29.
62
Huntington argued that “the most important causes of military intervention in politics are not military but political
and reflect not the social and organizational characteristics of the military establishment but the political and
institutional structure of the society”. His main reason is “that military interventions are only one specific
manifestation of a broader phenomenon in under-developed societies: the general politicization of social forces
and institutions”. Huntington, S. P., Political Order in Changing Societies, Op. cit, p.194.
63
Finer wrote, “what applies to military intervention…can also be ‘played back’ to explicate its excursion.” As cited
by Alagappa, Muthiah, Coercion and Governance: The Declining Political Role of the Military in Asia, (Stanford,
California: Stanford University Press, 2001), p. 52.
50
This study, however, is not in order to argue for or against either the
military or civilian sets of factors as the most important to cause a regime
change, but to identify what within each set of military or civilian factors
drives/ speeds up (or inhibits/ stops/ reverses) the change, the transition
toward democracy. Therefore, instead of assuming only those which have
been initially claimed by one or other of these theorists to be the most
important, it may be better to consider a wide range of possible factors,
and then try to assess how they would affect the withdrawal process. For
this purpose, Finer’s formula would be the most useful starting point as it
provides a quite comprehensive framework. Paul Brooker64 has attempted
to summarize the many factors which several scholars regard as influential
for both military intervention and military withdrawal, and put them together
into a framework of a ‘calculus of military withdrawal and intervention’
which modifies and extends Finer’s formula, as seen in Table II.3.
Table II. 3: The (Finer-based) Calculus of Military Withdrawal/
Intervention
Increased opportunity for
Stronger motives to withdrawal/
Weaker motive to intervene
(further) withdrawal
Ideological/ National Interest
1. Civilian government has
1. Fulfilling promise of democratization
legitimacy
2. Ideological/ legitimacy problems
2. Absence of previous coups
3. Belief in civil supremacy
3. Presence of foreign troops
Corporate self-interest
4. Elite, paramilitary units, or
1 Political difficulties of governing the mass civilian protest that may
country
become an organized and
2. Public reputation besmirched by occasionally armed challenge
unpopular/ ineffective military rule.
5. Withdrawal (actual or
3. Politicization/ factionalism arising from threatened) of foreign support
policy-making (fear of politicization of 6. National security problems
military)
7. Negative economic trends
4. Fears of coup failure or military rule
8. Electoral overconfidence
Individual Self-interest
9.
Demonstration
effect
1. Military governors’ political difficulties (domino,
snowball)
of
of governing the country
global/regional
democratization
increases
civilians’
(political)
selfconfidence
Weaker motives to withdraw/
Less opportunity for
Stronger motive to intervene
withdrawal/
Increased opportunity for
64
Brooker, Op. cit, p. 61.
51
intervention
Ideological/ national interest
1. Civilian government’s lack
1. Protecting national interest or of legitimacy
ideological goals
2. Civilian government
2. Protecting regime’s work in pursuit of dependent on military
national interest or ideology
3. Civilian government
Corporate self-interest
discredited – e.g. from
1. Protecting military and its corporate corruption, economic failings
interest from retaliation/ retribution
4. Civilians ignore interests/
2. Protecting its corporate autonomy policy preferences of the
under future civilian government
military
Individual self-interest
5. Civilian successors are not
1. Protecting governing and internal- potentially stable and
security
officers
from
retaliation/ peaceful party or party system
retribution
2. Division over issue of appropriate time
to withdraw
3. Politicization/ factionalism resulting
from personal affiliations with political
groups
Sources: This table is modified from four tables of Brooker (2000) pp. 61,
195, 197, 200). The author(s) suggestions for each point have been
deleted to provide space. One factor, “3. Politicization/ factionalism
resulting from personal affiliations with political groups”, has been added
to “Stronger Motive to Intervene”. This is because, based on an
examination of the Indonesian case, as discussed more in Chapter Three,
it appears that this factor has been very influential in increasing the
involvements of the military in politics.
As Brooker says, all the factors included in the framework reflect “the
complexities of the real world of military interventions in politics”, and each
factor “is actually a matter of degree rather than a simple yes/no
question”.65
4. Impacts of military withdrawal
Huntington said that, as a crucial part of democratization, the military
withdrawal should aim at transforming civil-military relations into a pattern
which is compatible with democracy in a long term.66 Such a pattern has
been frequently termed as (democratic) “civilian control” over the military,
a mechanism that ensures that in providing the security for and protecting
65
66
Brooker, Ibid, p. 76.
Huntington, The Third Wave, Op. cit., p. 115.
52
the state and its people, the military does not endanger what it tries to
protect, or act in ways not delegated to it by the people or the state.67
Whether the withdrawal will achieve the establishment of civilian control,
according to Huntington, is determined by three related things: “the type of
authoritarian regime, the power of the military establishment, and the
nature of the transition”.68 Following this suggestion, the primary data of
the case study presented in this thesis (Chapters Five to Eleven) focuses
mainly on the last category, while the first two are addressed in Chapter
Three by relying on secondary data. So, this study is not focused on the
notion of “civilian control”, which would have a much wider scope
including, and mainly referring to, national level issues; but only on the
conditions at the local level that lead to it (which are mainly included in the
third of Huntington’s categories).
According to Arguiro, in the (transitional) immediate term, the impact of the
withdrawal would be on the dismantling of the military’s direct political
involvement in non-military roles; while in a longer term, on the increase in
the civilian participation and involvement in redefining and controlling the
military professional role.69 As discussed below, these impacts are to be
achieved by (and measured by the extent of) the separation of the military
from political institutions, the improvement of military professionalism, and
the establishment of a strong, effective, democratic political system
(democratic does not necessarily mean strong or effective, e.g. a decision
may be made democratically, but is not necessarily implemented
effectively as those who implement it are weak in one way or another).
4.1. Functional separation
With regard to the functional separations, as noted earlier, a model has been
provided by Huntington – it means limiting the civil-military political interactions
67
Huntington also suggests that an ideal concept of democratic civil-military relations must have a fair balance
between “functional and social imperatives”, referring to fulfilling a standard of being a strong and effective military,
and “social imperatives”, referring to being fully controlled by and accountable to the state’s society . Huntington,
The Soldier and the State, Op. cit., pp. 2-3.
68
Huntington, The Third Wave, Op. cit., p. 231.
69
As cited by Alagappa, p. 55.
53
(this can be drawn as in Table II.4 below). The table shows that cell A is the main
area within which the military’s interactions with political institutions regarding its
security roles should be allowed, while cells A1, B, B1, C and C1 are where the
interactions should be minimized or eliminated.
Table II. 4: Political interactions in the military security role
Forms of National Security Policy
Military
Internal
Situational
Security Policy Security Policy Security Policy
Institutional level
A
B
C
Operational level
A1
B1
C1
Linking back to the earlier Table II.2, Welch characterized this situation as military
influence with civilian control with, he said, “significant degrees of involvement
remain(ing) limited to those holding ranking position … (while) lateral contacts at
lower levels are discouraged to preserve the integrity of the chain of command
and the integral nature of institutional boundaries.”70 For the purpose of this study,
the interactions at the local level are regarded as those lower level ones which
Welch asserted should be minimized or eliminated.
There is, however, some criticism of the concept of civil-military separation, for
instance by Schiff. She argues that civil-military separation as advanced by
Huntington is bound to American liberal culture and values, and is not always
applicable to other cultures, therefore she prescribed a concordance theory that
highlights an inclusive dialogue among the military, civilian leaders and citizens, to
agree about what should or should not be separated, as exemplified by India and
Israel.71 However, as Peaver has pointed out, in Schiff’s analysis, a distinction
between “military” and “civilian” could hardly be avoided and Peaver argued that
an analysis of civil-military relations should start with a clear distinction between
the “military” and the “civilian”.72 Although the two countries selected as her
70
Welch, Civilian Control, Op. cit, 3.
See Schiff, Rebecca L., "Civil-Military Relations Reconsidered: A Theory of Concordance," Armed Forces &
Society 22 (Fall 1995).
72
Although Peaver sees that the military-civilian separation is getting difficult – even in democratic countries like
the United States with a technology-heavy military establishment, where large number of civilians are recruited
into military jobs, and extensive coordination cross-departmentally is needed – he argues that this does not mean
that the separation can be abandoned, instead, it should be defined more clearly.
71
54
examples are regarded as democratic, it seems that in Schiff’s proposal the
military intervention is not judged on the basis of whether it is or is not compatible
with democracy, but whether the military follows the result of the dialogue. The
question is then, what if the dialogue results in allowing a military’s political
involvement which is not compatible with democracy? Therefore, although it does
warn of the complexity of separating the military from politics, and may offer an
alternative to possible unwanted deadlocks that might reverse the transition
process toward democracy, Schiff’s view seems also to pose potentials for
preserving a military’s political power.
This study is mainly looking at the changing interactions in situational security,
which are related to a military’s social and political roles, in internal security, and in
military security at operational level (A1, B1, C1). While still having some regard to
the institutional level (A, B, C), this study limits the scope of investigation to the
local institutions because it relies on the data from the local level.
4.2. Improvements in professionalism
With respect to military professionalism one long-standing debate has
been whether it strengthens civilian control or encourages military
intervention. The debates came to the surface as reactions to Huntington’s
book, The Soldier and the State, which argued that an effective way of
achieving civilian control is by “objective civilian control”,
…by professionalizing the military, by rendering them
politically sterile and neutral. This produces the lowest
possible level of military political power with respect to all
civilian groups. At the same time it preserves that essential
element of power which is necessary for the existence of the
military profession. A highly professional officer corps stands
ready to carry out the wishes of any civilian group which
secures legitimate authority within the state.73
Janowitz, for example, argues that, instead of reducing the military political
power, those “organizational and professional qualities facilitate to
73
Huntington, The Soldier and the State, pp. 83-84.
55
accumulate political power”.74 Also, Stepan, in Authoritarian Brazil, said
that as the internal security and national development are inseparable, the
military’s professional expertise and responsibility in developing countries
should focus “on internal rather than military security of society”.75 So, it
seems that it also depends on what is meant by “professionalism” – if
Stepan’s definition is followed, then it is more likely that professionalism
encourages a greater control of politics by the military.
Another criticism has been put forwarded by Finer, similar to Janowitz’s
view, saying that military intervention into civilian affairs is encouraged by
some features of professionalism, such as the military’s capacity to act
decisively. Besides, he said, some professional armies tend to regard
themselves as "servants of the state rather than the government in power,"
thus undermining the authority of individual civilian leaders.76
Despite the debates, however this view of Huntington has remained
influential.77 In addition, although it may be doubted that military
professionalism can lead to a professional ethic of voluntary subordination,
either by the professionalization as suggested by Huntington, or by an
integration of the military officers into wider social values as suggested by
Janowitz,78 undermining military professionalism is not desirable as it
neglects the “functional imperative” of the military which can create the
same effect, such as serious security problems, or military factionalism,
that leads to the politicization of the military. As noted, when
74
See Janowitz‘s preface page in Abrahamsson, Bengt, Military Professional and Political Power, (Beverly
Hills/London: Sage Publication, 1972) pp. 1, 10. See also Morris Janowitz’s book, The Professional Soldier: A
Social and Political Portrait (USA: The Free Press. 1960). Unlike Huntington’s concept that emphasizes
institutional separations and gives a greater autonomy to the military, Janowitz stressed the importance of social
integration. He is cited by Feaver, who used the term “societal control” in describing this social integration as an
alternative to the political perspective in the Huntington concept of “state-institutional control” approaches. See
Feaver, P. D., “The Civil-Military Problematique: Huntington, Janowitz, and the Question of Civilian Control,”
Armed Forces and Society, Winter 1996, Vol.23, Iss. 2; p. 149.
75
Stepan, Alfred, Authoritarian Brazil, (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1976), p. 48.
76
See for example Finer, Op. cit, pp.24 -27.
77
As Feaver has summarized, the influence of “Samuel Huntington's monumental The Soldier and the State” has
been “the greatest and most lasting” theory, and “even modern analyses of civil-military relations feel obliged to
begin with a reference to Huntington's theory”. See Feaver, Op. cit., p. 149.
78
Similarly to Huntington’s, however, Janowitz’s theory, as Peaver has also pointed out, relies on the concept of
“officer corps” and “professionalism”, that is, on the voluntary intention of the military officers. In Huntington’s it
stems from “professional military ethics”, while in Janowitz’s it is derived from “self esteem” and “moral worth”,
which in Peaver’s view are quite similar. Peaver preferred, however, to add them to Huntington’s three criteria of
professionalism. See Peaver, Peter, Op.cit, p. 149.
56
professionalism encourages the military’s political involvement, it is also
because of the weakness of the civilian political system. So, the choice
should not be that which weakens the military professionalism, but the one
that strengthens the civilian political system.
To see the possible strengthening of both military professionalism and
civilian political system from an East Java perspective is one of the main
concerns this study. However, despite accepting the notion that
professionalism encourages the military’s political involvement, the study is
looking the other way around, that is, at the conditions and the extent to
which a decreased involvement of the military in politics (as the result of
the withdrawal) made the military more professional. As noted in Chapter
One, this is done by looking at two areas; the perception and attitudes
toward politics of individual officers and the local military units as
institutions. These perceptions and attitudes toward politics are important
indications of whether a condition is favourable or not to the establishment
of an apolitical, professional military.
4.3. Democratizing a political system
In terms of democratizing a civilian political system, a basic question is
what kind of democratic political system does a country need as the prerequisite to a civilian control? For sure, it is not a kind of “praetorianism”,
which Huntington explained as possible in a society lacking effective
political institutions that are “capable of mediating, refining, and
moderating group political action”.79 In a “praetorian society”, he said, each
group of society “nakedly” uses a variety of forms of direct political actions:
“businesses bribe, workers strike, students riot and military stages coups”.
So in societies with a politicized military, then the clergy, civil service,
universities, trade unions and business corporations are also politicized.80
Huntington suggested that to meet such intended institutions, the politics
has to have a high degree of “autonomy, complexity, coherence and
adaptability”,
79
80
the
four
categories
that
he
set
up
for
political
Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies, (New Haven: Yale University, 1968), p. 196.
Huntington, Ibid, p. 194-196.
57
“institutionalization”.81 Finer has classified four degrees or “levels” of
political culture that would influence the relative ease of military
intervention in politics.82 (See Table II.4 below).
Table II. 5: Relations between political cultures, levels and modes of
intervention, and types of regime83
Order and
Level and Mode of
Resultant Type
characteristic
Intervention
of Regime
of Political Culture
Mature
Influence:
Legitimacy
paramount and
unobtainable by the
military
1. Normal constitutional
channels.
2. Collusion of or
competition with
- Civilian
- Indirectlimited
the civilian authorities
Developed
Influence and blackmail:
Legitimacy important
and
Points 1 & 2 above, plus:
resistive to the
military
3. Intimidation of the
civilian authorities
4. Threats of noncooperation with or
- Indirectlimited
- Indirectcomplete
- Dual
violence towards the
civilian authorities
Low
Legitimacy of some
Blackmail, displacement
and supplantment:
importance but fluid
Points 2 to 4 above, plus:
- All five types
of
5. Failure to defend the
civilian
military
regimes
authorities against violence
6. Violence
Minimal
Legitimacy
unimportant
Displacement and
supplantment:
- All five types
of
Points 3 to 6 above
military
regimes
81
Huntington, Ibid, pp. 12-24.
Finer, The Man on the Horseback, Op.cit, p. 79.
83
The table is a modification of Finer’s table, for simplification using numbering to indicate the relations instead of
using arrows as in the original. See Ibid, p. 152.
82
58
The first level is regarded as “mature” in which the military intervention is
considered as “a wholly unwarrantable intrusion”. At this level, procedures for
transferring power and the sovereign authority as the result of this transfer are
approved widely by the public, who strongly oppose the breach of these
procedures or other persons or centres of power that are not resulting from the
approved procedures. In addition, a large proportion of the public are orderly
structured and mobilized into solid private, social organizations or political parties.
The second level is a “developed political culture” where, although “civil
procedures and public authorities are well rooted”, what constitutes the sovereign
authority is in conflict, therefore despite public’s strong resistance, the opportunity
for military intervention greater than in the “mature”. The third level is a “low
political culture” where public opinion is too “weak and self-divided” to resist the
military intervention, while the regime’s “institutions and procedures are in dispute”,
this providing wider entrance for the intervention. Finally is “minimal political
culture”, in which “for practical purposes any government can ignore public opinion
– the politically articulate are so few and weakly organized”.84 As mentioned
earlier, to what extent democratization has affected the political culture in East
Java case is one of the main concerns of the study. In order to be able to evaluate
this, the study will need also to examine what kind of democratization or
democracy had been occurring in post-1998 in Indonesia, specifically East Java.
Is it one of those which scholars call “procedural democracy”, or “true democracy”
85
, or “substantial democracy”86 or “illiberal democracy”?87 Huntington said that
defining democracy in terms of elections, that is a “procedural definition”, is a
minimal definition that is insufficient for those who prefer “true democracy” that
includes: “effective citizen control over policy, responsible government, honesty
and openness in politics, informed and rational deliberation, equal participation
and power, and various other civic virtues”. Another problem is that, even if leaders
assume power through a democratic election, it needs to be questioned whether
84
Finer, S E., Ibid, 79-80.
Huntington distinguished “the rationalistic, utopian, idealistic definitions of the true democracy” from “empirical,
descriptive, institutional and procedural definitions”. See Huntington, The Third Wave, p. 7.
86
For Carothers this “true democracy” is “substantial democracy”, democracy beyond the vote. See for example
Carothers, Thomas, “The End of the Transition Paradigm”, Journal of Democracy, Vol. 13, Iss. 1, 2002, p.15.
87
The term “Illiberal democracy” is used by Fareed Zakaria in his 2003 book, The future of Freedom: Illiberal
Democracy at Home and Abroad, to describe a kind of democracy that he identified as “tyranny of majority”,
which combines with intolerance, “political corruption” and “thuggery”, and abusive rulers at all levels of power”.
Cited from a book review, “The future of Freedom: Illiberal Democracy at Home and Abroad”, by Diamond, Larry,
Journal of Democracy, Vol. 14, Iss. 4, Oct 2003, pg. 167.
85
59
or not they fully control the actual power, especially in newly established
(immature) democracies.88 A further problem, especially based on the idea of
“substantial democracy”, is that there are some “grey areas” where a “military” and
a “democratic regime” cannot be easily distinguished as both fall into the
categories of “semi-democracies” or “semi-dictatorships”.89
Despite these problems, many scholars, some mentioned, believe that a
strong civilian political system is a determinant factor in achieving a civilian
control. Welch’s book, Civilian Control of the Military, provides a good
example in concluding that, of several potential bases for civilian control of
the military, the strongest come through the legitimacy and effectiveness of
government organs. However, Welch suggested that because of several
factors,
including
poor
economic
development,
impending
“social
cleavages” and a high possibility of national disintegration, weak political
institutions, or a “low level of political legitimacy”, a strategy that focuses
“on (the) civilian political establishment, giving paramount attention to its
legitimacy” is more unlikely in many developing countries. He suggested
that civilian control is more realistically achievable in the near future
through a strategy that “concentrates on the military establishment: its
boundaries, mission, values, organization, recruitment and socialization”.90
As mentioned, to what degree this would be possible in post-1998
Indonesia is to be addressed in this thesis by looking at the existing
conditions in East Java.
5. Conclusion
To summarize this theoretical discussion, it is important to highlight the
difficulty in drawing an exact line between a “military regime” and a
“democratic” one. This applies in examining regime change, in assessing
which pattern is more dominant than others. When a military regime is to
88
Diamond, L and J. Linz and S. M. Lipset, “Preface”, in L Diamond, J. Linz and S. M. Lipset (eds.), Democracy
in Developing Countries (Boulder: Lyne Rienner, 1989), p. xvii. See also Brooker, Op. cit. p. 227.
89
Brooker, Ibid, pp.76-77.
90
For further discussion, see Welch, pp. 35, 317-318.
60
change, the ‘actual’ changes may not start from a single clearly defined
point of departure, but from many points across institutions of both military
and democratic types of regime. The withdrawal is likely to be not a single
isolated process, but multi-faceted; and the outcome is by no means linear
or in a one-way direction, but may contain reversals. The processes and
the impacts at every stage of the change are intertwined, and at some
stages form two kinds of forces; one driving the change, the other
reversing it. The outcome, therefore, depends on how each process and
impact and thus these created forces are managed, and on the ability to
control them towards the intended direction. Therefore, the tasks of this
study would be; not to try to fit the post-1998 Indonesia into a specific
definition of regime, but to understand where it has become more or less
democratic. This is done not by limiting the portrayal of the withdrawal
process in East Java into only one or other of the specific pattern(s)
mentioned earlier, but
by understanding the potentially complex
combination of different patterns involved; and not by judging only whether
the withdrawal has impacted on the degree of the establishment of civilian
control, but by evaluating (potential) conditions both within the local
military and local politics that lead to, or hinder, this establishment.
61
Chapter Three
PRE-1998 MILITARY POLITICS IN INDONESIA:
A review of its history until the withdrawal
The TNI was one of the forces of the people’s struggle which was
at the same level and which fought shoulder to shoulder with
other forces, such as parties. The military itself would not be
politically active yet neither would it be simply a spectator.91
…the circumstances of a self-created army, [General] Sudirman’s
leadership, a weak civilian institutional context, and experience of
conducting a military government during the guerilla war together
constituted the circumstances which shaped the subsequent
political behaviour of the military officers.92
1. Introduction
91
Part of a statement by General A. H. Nasution, the Chief of Staff of the Indonesian Army during Sukarno
presidency up to 1963, quoted from Jenkins, David., “The Evolution of Indonesian Army Doctrinal Thinking: The
concept of Dwifungsi,” Southeast Asian Journal of Social Science, Vol. 11, No. 2, 1983. p.20.
92
Said, Salim., Genesis of Power: General Sudirman and The Indonesian Military in Politics 1945-49,
(Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 1991), p. 3.
62
As
Chapter
One
noted,
disappointments
about
the
unsatisfied
achievement of democratization are wide-spread in many parts of all
continents, ranging from Eastern Europe to Africa to Latin America and to
Asia. Here, “the fragility” of new democracies, or the augmentation of
“political chaos”, have hindered efforts to achieve democracy “in
substance”, although it seems possible to maintain democracy “in form”.93
Scholars seem to have considered unfortunate legacies of the past regime
as among important factors of this hindrance.94 Therefore, given the
importance of understanding this factor, the chapter attempts to discuss
Indonesian pre-1998 military legacies to see how they can influence the
continuing process and impacts of the democratic transition presented in
the subsequent chapters. Also importantly, it gives an historical
background about the development of military politics in Indonesia over
the half century up to 1998, before the military withdrawal started. In
addition, it provides a picture of the military’s political involvement in East
Java before the withdrawal, to understand what was being withdrawn from
in local practices, thus what process and impacts were involved locally.
2. Pre-New Order period
2.1 The formation of the new national army and its early involvement in
politics
From its very beginnings the Indonesian military has been politically
oriented, mainly due to the nature of the Indonesian Independence
revolution (1945-1949) that combined armed struggles and political
activities.95 The Indonesian military (TNI/Tentara Nasional Indonesia) was
93
Carothers, Thomas, “Democracy without illusions”, Foreign Affairs, Jan/Feb 1997, Vol. 76, Iss. 1, pp. 85-100.
“Substantial democracy” or “true democracy” is described in Chapter Two, section 2.
94
In searching for the explanations for this democratization problem, Aqűero for instance classifies scholars’
views into three groups. One group blames the unfortunate legacies of the past regime. Another group accuses
the arrangements, institutions and dynamics of the post-transition period. The third group combines the claims by
arguing that new institutional arrangements are complicated by the past. Agüero, Felipe, “Legacies of Transitions:
Institutionalization, the Military, and Democracy in South America,” Mershon International Studies Review,
November 1998, Vol. 42, Iss. 2, pp. 383-404. See also similar points by Huntington mentioned in Chapter Two,
p.27.
95
Explanations like this can be found in many studies of this era, including Anderson, Benedict R. O’G., Java in
Time of Revolution: Occupation and Resistance, 1944-1946, (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1972), especially
chapters 7, 8, and 9, pp. 125 – 201; Nasution, A. H., Tentara Nasional Indonesia, Vol. I. (Djakarta: Pembimbing,
63
created from politically conscious people, either affiliated with or
independent from political groups which had developed during the
Japanese mobilization policy.96 According to Crouch, in this period “the
politics and military action were inseparably intertwined”.97 Elsewhere
Crouch said that it was the nationalist struggle, not an intention to pursue
a military career, that motivated most of the officers to join the Army; they
never regarded themselves as apolitical soldiers and continued to be
involved in politics in the years after Independence.98 However, apart from
a commonality in their aims in the struggle for independence, their differing
processes of recruitment caused much rivalry and conflict, mainly between
the ex-KNIL and ex-Peta officers and their supporters but which also
included struggles for advantage and control between Left and other
representatives. Even during the years of the armed struggle for
Independence (1945-49) part of the struggling was between those with
different political ideas about the future State, particularly over how
socialist or communist it should be.99 The military was involved in
suppressing organized movements against the Unitary State which had
been based on religion and region as well as Leftist politics and, in the first
1955), 15-48; Crouch, Harold., The Army and Politics in Indonesia (London: Cornell University Press, 1978), p.
24; Said, Op. cit, p. 15.
96
The new Indonesian Army was created in 1945 from combining various separate groups, including the regular
troops from the previous colonial military KNIL (Koninklijk Nederlandsch-Indisch Leger, Royal Netherlands Indies
Army), former auxiliary troops (PETA, Pembela Tanah Air) raised and trained during the Japanese occupation,
and others from the wide variety of more local self-organized armed groups that had sprung up during the
Independence struggle, including several linked to political parties, particularly the Communist and Socialist
parties but also the nationalist and Muslim. However, by mid-1947 a unitary central command had been
established, with the ex-KNIL largely in control, and the name of the military changed from TKR (Tentara
Kemanan Rakyat/People’s Security Army) to TNI (Tentara Nasional Indonesia/Indonesian National Army). See
for example Said, Ibid, pp. 3, 9.
97
Crouch, Op. cit, p. 24.
98
Crouch, Harold, “Indonesia” in Military-Civilian Relations in Southeast Asia, Zakaria Haji Ahmad and Harold
Crouch (eds.) (Singapore: Oxford University Presas, 1985), p. 50. As quoted by Lee, Terence, “The Nature and
the Future of Civil Military Relations in Indonesia”, Asian Survey, 40:4, 2000, pp. 292-293.
99
Dijk mentioned that initially there was a strong Leftist influence in the organization but this was removed by
1948. Leftist party influences were from the PKI (Indonesian Communist Party), Partai Sosialis (Socialist Party),
Pesindo (Indonesian Socialist Militia), and Partai Buruh (Labour Party). They were under the leadership of the
Defense Minister Amir Syarifuddin (1945 -1948), a secret Communist Party member since 1935 but publicly
joined to the PSI (Indonesian Socialist Party). He had an ambition to build a leftist loyalist army and attempted to
achieve this by three main strategies. First, he organized and built leftist irregular armed groups into what later in
1947 was named the TNI Masyarakat (Peoples’ TNI). Second, he inserted political sections, named PEPOLIT
(Pendidikan Politik Tentara/Military Political Education), into every level of the regular military units, with officers of
each section dominated by leftist politicians given titular ranks, whose main function was to bring the military under
the influence of the leftist ideology. Third, the Defence Ministry dominated most administrative roles in the military,
including job appointments, and especially with regard to the irregular armed groups was to be fully controlled and
managed by the Ministry, out of the headquarters’ hands. PEPOLIT and TNI MASYARAKAT were abolished by
the new Defence Minister (also Vice President) Hatta in 1948. Dijk, C. Van, Rebellion under the banner of Islam
(Netherlands: Martinus Nijhoff, 1981), pp. 35–36, 344; Wolf, Charles Jr., The Indonesian Stor, (New York:
American Institute of Pacific Relations, 1948), p.59.
64
years of Independence, a variety of localized attempts at social
revolution.100
A number of coup threats by dissident officers occurred, as well as the
quickly suppressed Madiun Rebellion by Communist-led troops in
September 1948, before the final achievement of full Independence from
the Dutch. Several military officers, including General Sudirman, the
Armed Forces Commander in Chief, joined Tan Malaka’s radical PP
(Persatuan Perjuangan/ Struggle Union) which was formed on 15 January
1946 because they agreed with the idea of “a 100 per cent Independence”
that would be achieved through armed struggles, and that proposed the
formation of Peoples’ Government, Peoples’ Army and the nationalization
of foreign-owned companies.101 There was also the 1946 July 3 Affair
which was an incident when Major General Sudharsono, a supporter of
the PP, came to the Presidential Palace in Yogyakarta demanding the
dissolution of the Syahrir Cabinet, a week after the kidnap of PM Syahrir
by members of The Third Division commanded by Major Yusuf, ordered by
Sudharsono.102 So, various frictions within the military, between the
military and the civilian government, as well as the whole country against
the Dutch colonial power characterized the early establishment of the
Indonesian military.
There was a move to having all armed activity carried out by the new
Republic’s army together with a disbanding of local irregular forces, a
move which caused opposition within the government from those parties
and individuals with links to these forces as well as those who preferred a
more regionalized basis for the new state.103 From a mixed and fairly
poorly equipped force of about 200,000 early in the Independence
struggle, increasing to about half a million by mobilization for guerilla
100
Dijk, Ibid, p. 343–353. For a discussion of various regional contexts see, for example, Kahin, Audrey R.,
Regional Dynamics of The Indonesian Revolution: Unity From Diversity (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press,
1985). Her examples included Pekalongan, Banten, Aceh, East Indonesia, East and West Sumatra, Jakarta,
Ambon and Sulawesi (none of which are in East Java).
101
Sundhaussen, Op. cit, p. 27.
102
Sundhaussen, Ibid, pp. 29 – 32.
103
Dijk, Op. cit, p. 343.
65
resistance in 1947/8, the plan was for a modern professional military of
about 57,000.104 The planned modernization and reduction in size of the
armed forces, which continued into the beginning of the 1950s but then
with a further reduction from 1952 due to the deteriorating economic
situation of that time, produced much sectional dissent within the military,
including public protests.105 Meanwhile, at the unit levels the leadership
was still very autonomous but popular, and not much different from the
early months of the creation of the army. The leaders could not be
transferred; nor were they willing to carry out orders which they opposed;
thus the army leadership could not control them; yet many of them simply
became the executors of their subordinates’ wishes; as the command no
longer went from above below, but from the bottom to top.106 As yet, the
central leadership was not strong enough to impose its command and
control.
What is important to be learned from this early development of militarypolitical relations in Indonesia is that how this condition – an already
politicized military; the military’s weak command and control as shown by
the several rebellions and coup threats; politically active and divisive local
units affiliated with different political ideologies (socialist, leftist, rightist, or
nationalist); a factionalized officer corps based on source sentiments
(KNIL, PETA, various people Laskar forces) and on political ideology
(socialist, rightist, communist, or nationalist), as well as on differences in
personal ties; strong feelings of independence instead of being belonging
to, or under, the government – remained and was passed onto the next
period.
2.2 Military political expansion during the 1950s
One aspect of the previous feature of the Indonesian military that seems to
have continued into the 1950s was the relations between its divided officer
104
Wolf, Op. cit, pp. 59, 61, 132, 134; Dijk, Ibid, p. 11.
Crouch, The Army and Politics in Indonesia, Op. cit, p. 29.
106
Nasution, Op. cit, pp. 154-55, quoted from Anderson, Op. cit, p. 236.
105
66
corps and political involvement of its officers. This was clearly
demonstrated by what scholars called the October 17 1952 Affair. On
October 17 1952 pro-Nasution troops marched to the Presidential Palace
demanding the Cabinet be sacked. The demand was a response to what
the officers called the politicization of military affairs by civilian politicians –
a close senior military ally of Sukarno being retired by Nasution, the Chief
of Staff of the Army, but then Nasution and several of his senior staff being
replaced by the President.107 The officer corps was divided, with four of
seven regional commanders being pro-17 October action, while the other
three were classified as anti-17 October action.108
However, as a reaction to the October 17 Affair, there was a growing
concern about internal unity and a deeper anti-politician attitude shared
among the officers. In mid-1954 the two groups reconciled, and then in a
meeting in Yogyakarta from 17 to 25 February 1955 the declaration of a
clear-out of the 17 October affairs; a demand for a “clarification of the
limits of the political influence on the army”; a stress on the importance of
technical ability and seniority as the criteria for military appointments; and
a statement of the unity of command. Shortly afterwards the army refused
to accept the government appointment of a new Chief of Staff on the
grounds that it infringed the resolution, in particular the seniority criterion.
As the result, the President appointed the army’s nominated candidate,
but this was followed by the resignation of the entire parliamentary Cabinet
that failed to have a voice on the appointment. It was from this point that
the military’s political influence was expanded in the following years. Its
main political strength against the civilian government was that it was now
much more united and cohesive than ever before.109
107
“[I]f we are to understand the October 17 affair we must look first at a number of background factors,
particularly those having roots in the country’s “first-class financial crisis”. … (The) UN-advised 1953 government
budget required the retirement of 60,000.” Feith, Ibid, pp. 246 – 248.
108
Feith mentioned that the East Java, East Indonesia, and South Sumatra regional commanders were replaced
by coups organized by pro-Sukarno officers who claimed the commanders had been involved in the October 17
Affair.
109
Feith, Op. cit, pp. 398-400, 406.
67
A local-central divide to some extent also remained as the local
commands gained much autonomy which developed into what could be
called a warlord situation – the local commanders, in cooperation with the
local civilian elites, pursued political and economic activities out of the
control of the central government.110 The culmination of this was
demonstrated by the declaration of the PRRI (Pemerintah Revolusioner
Republic
Indonesia/Revolutionary
Government
of
the
Indonesian
Republic) rebellion in Sumatra and of Permesta (Perjuangan Semesta/Our
Struggle) in Sulawesi in 1957-1958.111 To deal with these regional
rebellions of Sumatra and Sulawesi, where dissident officers played
leading roles, the Martial Law was declared on 14 March 1957 and was
continued until 1963. Under its provisions the Chief of Staff (in his role as
PEPERPU, Penguasa Perang Pusat/Central War Authority) and the
regional commanders (as PEPERDA, Penguasa Perang Daerah/Regional
War Authorities) enjoyed strong political and economic power for the
objective of national security although military leaders’ loyalties were
divided between the central command and the President.112 In the
economic sector, the military also benefited from this Martial Law that was
used to legitimize its actions against PKI (Indonesian Communist Party)
and nationalist demonstrators taking over the remaining Dutch-owned
enterprises in 1957 and the putting of the management (and proceeds) of
the enterprises under military supervision.113 Even after the end of Martial
Law the military’s economic accumulation was increased when the British
enterprises were similarly nationalized in1964 and the American
110
In the early 1950s the military were not politically active at the national level. See Feith, Ibid, p. 246 – 272.
Along with military operations conducted to force the speeding up of the unification of the initially federated states
into the unitary system, at the local level the military officers actively played political roles along with the military
operations. Some local resistance to the formation of the Unitary State was eventually put down by military
operations with officers and soldiers also actively involved in political moves to support the unification, especially in
West Java (Pasundan State), South Sulawesi and South Maluku. One clear example was the arrival of
Lieutenant Colonel A. J. Mokoginta with a number of small military units in Makassar (now Ujung Pandang)
where “they worked actively for the downfall of the East Indonesian State.” See, Feith, Ibid, 66.
111
The PPRI/PERMESTA rebellion had very complex causes, range from protests against the growing
communist influence in the central government to the issues of regional autonomy, but was influenced by the
United States’ interests in encouraging and supporting the regional military units to counter the communist
influence at the centre. See Kahin, Audrey R., Regional Dynamics of The Indonesian Revolution: Unity From
Diversity (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1985).
112
Crouch, Harold., The Military and Politics in Indonesia, Op.cit., p. 46. See also Lev, Daniel S., “The Political
Role of the Military”, Pacific Affairs, Vol. 36, No. 4 (Winter, 1963-1964), pp. 352, 354, 360.
113
The Dutch enterprises were nationalized in 1958. See Lev, Ibid, p. 351.
68
enterprises in 1965.114 This strengthened the base for the military’s
business activities long afterwards, sustaining what can called an almost
self-financing military since the government provided only around thirty
percent of the total military budget.115 This self-financing character is
important in understanding the political independence of the military from
the civilian government, and why it was very capable of supporting and
mobilizing its political positions when it wanted to.
In its relations with the civilian politicians, the central headquarters
demonstrated its long-held anti-politician116 attitudes by supporting the
abolition of the parliamentary system in favour of the so-called Guided
Democracy which was formally decreed by Sukarno in 1959, allegedly to
unify the badly divided nation.117 In the new Guided Democracy Cabinet
two active military officers, for the first time in Indonesian history, were
listed in the Cabinet and the top military leaders were appointed ex-officio
on the Dewan Nasional (National Council) in which President, as its Head,
held a strong power over the Parliament. Initially the military was formally
accepted as one element of those officially recognized and acceptable
political forces included in the overall government Golongan Fungsional
(Functional Group) considered as politically equal to political parties but,
after lobbying from Nasution, was recognized as a special Functional
Group that consisted of all branches of the Armed Forces, Police,
Veterans and the militia organizations OKD (Organisasi Keamanan
Desa/Organization for Village Security), and OPR (Organisasi Pertahanan
Rakyat/Organization for People’s Security). When latter in 1959 the
National Council was dissolved, the new Parliament, called the DPRD-GR
(Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat - Gotong Royong/Mutual Help People’s
114
Crouch, The Army and Politics in Indonesia, Op. cit, p. 39.
Crouch, Ibid, p. 274. See also Samego, Indria et al., Bila ABRI Berbisnis (If the ABRI Does The Business)
(Bandung: Penerbit Mizan, 1998), especially Chapter 2 on the historical background of the military involvement in
business activities.
116
This attitude development can be seen in the issue of diplomacy vs. armed struggle in the revolutionary era
(see notes on Tan Malaka’s PP above), the surrender of the civilian government to the Dutch in 1948 (See
Crouch, The Army and Politics in Indonesia, Op. cit, pp. 26, 27); but importantly the controversial issue of the
October 17 Affair (mentioned above, see also Crouch, Ibid, p. 29).
117
Since the second Cabinet of Ali Sastroamijoyo President Sukarno had the idea about this kind of regime and
had worked on making it real years before. By the end of 1956 it was widely debated among government officials,
public and the media. Feith, Ibid, pp. 515-517.
115
69
Representative Council) was formed and the military was given 35 of the
total 283 seats.118 So, from this time the military involvement in politics
moved from simply influencing the government policies, as in the early
1950s, to participating in business activities and the government
bureaucracy, as well as in the Parliament.
The military’s direct participation in politics was developed further and
justified by the Nasution-designed concept of the “Middle Way”, which
later in the New Order regime was further ratified and developed to
become the Dwifungsi (Dual Function) Doctrine that gave the military two
roles, as a political force as well as the defence force. In accordance with
the spirit of the “Presidential Conception”119 introduced in 1957 by
Sukarno, Nasution’s Middle Way was introduced for the first time in a
seminar during the Anniversary of the Staff and Command School in 1958
in Bandung. Both Nasution’s and Sukarno’s concepts denied the
appropriateness of an implementation of a pure Western Democratic
concept, but defined a Democratic concept with limitations necessary for
the national conditions. In Sukarno’s view the Indonesian Democracy
needed to be led by the leadership, while in Nasution’s view the military
was neither to carry out a military coup nor to isolate itself from politics but
rather had to contribute into and participate in politics.120
118
Golongan Fungsional included the Armed Forces, Labourers, Civil Servants, Religious groups, Farmers,
Intellectuals, Youths and other non-party groups.
119
Main points of the Presidential Conception were:
The Western Parliamentary System of Democracy was not compatible with Indonesian identity, so it had to be
replaced by a Guided Democracy System. To implement the guided Democracy, a “Gotong Royong Cabinet”,
which include all parties and organizations based on the existing balance and composition, was to be formed. It
also mentioned a “Four Leg Cabinet” that embraced all four big parties: Nationalist PNI, Religious NU and
Masyumi, and Communist PKI, as main components of the Gotong Royong Cabinet. A National Council (Dewan
Nasional) that consisted of parties’ representatives and all functional groups was to be formed. See, Susanto,
Nugroho, Pejuang dan Prajurit: Konsepsi dan Implementasi Dwi Fungsi ABRI, (Warrior and Soldier: Conception
and Implementation of the ABRI Dual Function) (Jakarta: Pustaka Sinar Harapan, 1991), p. 73.
120
Nasution in his Middle Way speech on 12 November 1958 said, “The position of the TNI was not like that an
army in Western countries, in which the military was solely an ‘instrument of the government’ (alat pemerintah).
Neither was it like that of various Latin American armies which monopolized political order. … Individual officers
must be granted an opportunity to participate in the government and make use of their non-military skills in helping
develop the nation. Officers must be permitted to participate in determining economic, financial, international and
other policies at the highest level of government. Therefore, they must be in all the institutions of the state, not just
in the National Council and the Cabinet, as was already the case, but also in the National Planning Council, the
diplomatic corps, parliament, and elsewhere in the government.” Quoted from Jenkins, David., “The Evolution of
Indonesian Army Doctrinal Thinking: The concept of Dwifungsi,” Southeast Asian Journal of Social Science, Vol.
11, No. 2, 1983. p. 20.
70
Although the military, as represented by Nasution, certainly did not agree
with the inclusion of the Communist Party in the government, this did not
led to an overriding challenge to Sukarno’s overall conception; instead, the
military felt more compelled to be active in politics as a counterbalance to
the growing influence of Communism. In this the military gained major
support for its political role, such as, in domestic politics, from the Islamic
Masyumi Party as a traditional anti-Communist organization121, and
internationally, from most western countries. So the military was
accommodated in day-to-day civilian politics for at least four purposes: as
a counter-balance to the growing Communist movement; as a back-up
against those political groups opposed to the Guided Democracy; as a
strong coercive force to counter regional rebellions; and to achieve the
projected integration of West Irian and confrontation against Malaysia.
Sukarno’s 1961-62 attempts and threats to use the military and then mass
mobilization against the continuation of Dutch colonial control in West Irian
and the 1963-5 Konfrontasi opposition to the foundation of Malaysia with
infiltration and fighting in Sarawak both brought the military deeper into
active involvement in the politics of government as well as demonstrating
the rapidly increasing potential and armed power of the Indonesian
Communist Party. This was only part of the increasingly polarized
divisions opening up in Indonesia, mainly between the organized Left and
a combination of conservative, notably religious, groupings with the
military mostly supporting the latter for a variety of reasons, including
nationalism, security and order.122
By 1963 regional rebellions had been successfully handled,123 and West
Irian had been taken into the Indonesian Republic. Internal security began
to be under safe control and consequently the Martial Law was lifted.
Nasution was then replaced with A Yani as the new Chief of Staff of the
121
This was despite the conflicts at the same time between Masyumi and the military regarding the regional
rebellions which Masyumi was suspected to have supported locally. This suspicion was a long standing one,
rooted in the time of the Masyumi government, especially the Sukiman Cabinet’s (1951-1952), policy of
persuasion toward Darul Islam rebels. See Feith, Op. cit, pp. 207 – 214.
122
Crouch, The Army and Politics in Indonesia, Op. cit, pp. 51-68.
123
See Feith, Herberth and Lev, Daniel S., “The End of the Indonesian Rebellion”, Pacific Affairs, Vol. 36, No. 1
(Spring, 1963), pp.32-46.
71
Army for two reasons. First, Sukarno had become closer to the PKI which
now demanded general elections it appeared likely to win while Nasution
was seen as a strong man that would bring Army resistance to it; and
second, Sukarno and the PKI were getting impatient to crush Malaysia
and both came out with an idea of mobilizing a force of twenty million, with
a large proportion of this to be provided and organized by the PKI as the
‘Fifth Force’ while Nasution and the Army were strongly opposed to this.
Later it was proved that Yani was just the same as Nasution, opposed to
both programs.124 By the mid-1960s the rivalry, polarization and
confrontation in government and in communities across Indonesia had
intensified until the kidnapping and murder of seven of the military’s
Jakarta-based generals set off a vast wave across Indonesia of the killing
of actual and alleged Communists and those sympathetic to Communism.
There was extensive military involvement in the orderly organization of
this, including its restraint in some localities.
Many writings have been produced focusing especially on what the New
Order called the 30th September 1965 Communist Coup Attempt that
opened the whole takeover by the military in 1966, but at least there were
two types of explanations that have been prominent – one arguing that
factionalism and conflicts inside the Armed Forces were the main causes
of the tragedy,125 and another emphasizing the Communist betrayal of the
Indonesian state’s ideology Panca Sila and 1945 Constitution.126 None of
these versions seems to have given completely satisfactory evidence
124
The PKI strongly supported Sukarno in the Malaysia Confrontation, but spoke out against the threat of
NEKOLIM (Neocolonialism) for an additional purpose. The PKI wanted much of the armed forces to be sent to
Sumatra and Kalimantan so as to empty Java of them and thereby to smooth its plan of a total revolution in Java
in order to bring the PKI into power. This plan was identified by Army leaders who then tried to undercut the
execution of the military operations and sought a peaceful solution with Malaysia without the consent of Sukarno.
See Sundhaussen, Op. cit. p. 170. The Army was also active in foiling the election plan by proposing Sukarno to
be the President for life. The idea was initially proposed by Major Suhardiman in the MPRS meeting and pushed
by the Army to be discussed seriously, and adopted as the MPRS decision on 18 May 1963. See Sinjal, Daud,
Military Academy Yogya: Laporan Kepada Bangsa, (Yogya Military Academy: Report to the People) ( Jakarta:
Pustaka Sinar Harapan, 1996) p. 204.
125
Among these has been the work of Benedict Anderson and Ruth McVey who in 1971 published A Preliminary
Analysis of the October 1, 1965 Coup in Indonesia.
126
See the work, by Nugroho Notosusanto and Ismael Saleh, produced The Coup Attempt of the ‘September
30th Movement’ in Indonesia, published seventeen years later (and twenty three years after the event) in 1988 as
the official army version. See also two interviews with Sergeant-Major Bungkus, a former soldier involved in the
1965 killings of the five Indonesian top leaders, in Anderson, Benedict R O’G, and Djati, Arif., “The World of
Sergeant-Major Bungkus: Two Interviews with Benedict Anderson and Arief Djati”, Indonesia, Iss. 78, Oct 2004,
pp. 7-61.
72
however, and the truth remains a mystery.127 However, putting those
explanations together re-emphasizes the notion of converging forces
between the domestic and international forces that continued to influence
the military politics in Indonesia.
Yet, to explain how this military’s political expansion led to a complete
political takeover in 1966, it is necessary to look back to the preceding
period of more than twenty years. Sundhaussen for example, who took
this approach, strongly argued that “the systematic failure of the political
system” made a greater contribution than the ambitions of the officers did
to the politicization of the military.128 However, Crouch criticized
Sundhaussen for having seemed to have “over emphasized” the passive
political attitudes of the military officers, and under-estimated the fact that
the officers, as Crouch observed, “have been always able to maximize”
the opportunities for their interest.129 Nevertheless, in several statements,
Crouch seems to agree with Sundhaussen, for example when saying that,
The Army soon found itself drawn back into the political arena
not primarily as a result of the political ambitions of officers or
the shortsighted machinations of politicians, but because the
complex of circumstances contributing to the fluidity of the
power structure did not allow the military to isolate itself from
politics. Successive governments took the form of uneasy
coalitions that were under constant parliamentary attack, while
the group controlling the army headquarters was unable to
assert its authority over rival factions in the region. In such
situation it was only to be expected that the rivalry between
factions in the army would become enmeshed with the struggle
between government and opposition in parliament as each
sought allies.” 130
Daniel Lev gave a similar account in 1964, claiming that, although the
army’s “revolutionary origins” and continual domestic operations since
1948 “have made the officer corps fully aware of national politics” and the
127
Crouch provided an excellent section on “Theories about the Coup” analyzing various accounts, including the
two versions mentioned previously, on who were probably responsible for the Coup Attempt. See Crouch, The
Army and Politics in Indonesia, Op. cit 101-134.
128
See Sundhaussen, Ulf., The road to power: Indonesian military politics, 1945–1967 (New York: Oxford
University Press, 1982) p. 271.
129
Crouch, The Army and Politics in Indonesia, Op cit, p. 35.
130
Crouch, Ibid, p. 29.
73
army had been on the political defensive before 1956;131 only in 19561957, because of “the army’s own deep involvement in the national crisis”,
was there a powerful feeling that the army “must assume the responsibility
for saving the nation, as they had done in the revolution against Dutch
colonialism in 1945-1950”. As in what Sundhaussen insisted later, Lev
suggested that “for a variety of reasons…they avoided seizing power and
were forced instead to compete for it.”132 The momentum that effectuated
such a “saviour role” rolled into a proclamation of a nation-wide Martial
Law (state of siege) in March 1957 that provided for a broader and deeper
involvement of the military in politics.
Nevertheless, the relative importance of military or civilian factors would
be hard to prove either way, although it does appear that Sundhaussen’s
interpretation, of a more passive, reactive military, does apply more to the
decade from 1945 and Crouch’s, a more active expansion, from the mid1950s as political and economic conflict deepened in Indonesia. A careful
examination of their claims, notwithstanding, indicates that they agree on
an absence of a organized military push for political power during the two
decades from 1945 to 1965.133
From a different point of view, Audrey Kahin and George McTurnan Kahin,
Subversion as Foreign Policy: the Secret Eisenhower and Dulles Debacle
in Indonesia suggest that various US foreign policies to cope with
communist expansion strongly steered the direction of Indonesian politics.
These ranged from apathy to opposition to Dutch colonialism in 19451949, to supporting the regional rebellions in Sumatra and Sulawesi
against the communist-influenced Soekarno government in 1957-1959,
then a shift to supporting the central leadership of the Indonesian military
for the same reason after the regional rebels failed.134 Obviously,
131
Lev, Daniel S., “The Political Role of the Military”, Pacific Affairs, Vol. 36, No. 4 (Winter, 1963-1964), p. 349
Ibid, p. 349.
133
Crouch, The Army and Politics in Indonesia, Op. cit, p. 35; Sundhaussen, Op. cit, p. 255.
134
Kahin, Audrey R. and Kahin, George McTurnan., Subversion as Foreign Policy: The Secret Eisenhower and
Dulles Debacle in Indonesia, (New York: New Press, 1995). See also various reviews of this book, including by
Berger, Mark T., in The Journal of Asian Studies., May 1996, Vol. 55, Iss. 2; pp. 516-518; Pius, Richard M., in
Presidential Studies Quarterly, Summer 1998, Vol. 28, Iss. 3; pp. 700-703; and Bernstein, Lewis, in Military
Review, March/ April 1999, Vol. 79, Iss. 1, pp. 71-73. For a discussion about the Regional Rebellions see, Feith,
132
74
international factors are also important to be considered in understanding
the development of political involvement by the Indonesian military.
All the above arguments suggest that what happened in 1965/66 should
not be seen as separated from the continual complexity of development of
military politics in the twenty years before the explosion. It appears that
much of what has been previously mentioned as the revolutionary feature
of the military and military politics seems to continue in the period from
1950 to 1965/66. Weak command and control by the central headquarters
and local-central competitions were clearly demonstrated by the
PERMESTA/PRRI rebellion, although the central control strengthened
from the early 1960s with the ending of regional rebellions. The
factionalism of the officer corps based on the officers’ sources, as well as
based on various ideologies of political parties, was fading, but several
military officers in 1960s were also under the influence of the PKI and in
personal ties with President Sukarno. So, in general, a politicized
character of the military was much developed after the mid-1950s
especially with its broader political participation through the Guided
Democracy regime, the formulation of the “middle way” doctrine to justify
the participation, and a broader economic base to mobilize its political
power. How this stage of development of military politics was passed onto
and built up further in the New Order regime will be presented next.
However, for the purpose of this study, the following description of the
New Order’s military politics is mainly limited to the local features of the
military political networks, to give a picture of the starting point of the post1998 political changes which are presented in the chapters after that.
3. The New Order: military in government after the mid-1960s
After General Suharto assumed the Presidency in March 1966, the
military’s political involvement in the New Order regime became very
Herbert and Lev, Daniel S., “The End of the Indonesian Rebellion”, Pacific Affairs, Vol. 36, No. 1 (Spring, 1963),
pp. 32-46. For a discussion about the Indonesian Communists, see for example Pauker, Guy. J., “Current
Communist Tactics in Indonesia”, Asian Survey, Vol. 1, No. 3 (May, 1961), pp. 26-35.
75
systematic and systemic. It was constitutionally and ideologically justified
by developing the existing doctrine of Dwifungsi which was implemented in
all structures of political institutions and activities. The following describe
the doctrine and its implementation.
3.1. Doctrines: Hankamrata and Dwifungsi
There were two crucial elements of the national military doctrine that
became the ideological basis for the institutional structure and roles of the
military in the New Order. One was Hankamrata, the acronym for
Pertahanan Keamanan Rakyata Semesta (People’s Total Defense and
Security, originally titled People’s Total War).135 The other was the
Dwifungsi ABRI (Dual Function of the Armed Forces of the Indonesian
Republic).
Hankamrata
was
mainly
a
defense
and
security
doctrine,
the
implementation of which required involving all potentials (human and
material) of the nation for the purposes of defence and security. By
implication, however, the doctrine required continued social and political
interactions. Dwifungsi, on the other hand, was mainly a political doctrine
that justified the military having political roles beside its military security
role. The two doctrines appear in different, but related, laws, one in a
defence law136, the other in a political law137. However, Dwifungsi doctrine
originated from what was in 1958 known as Nasution’s “Middle Way
Concept” (Konsep Jalan Tengah) which itself mainly used as a basic idea
the earlier doctrine of the people’s total war.
135
In the New Order the abbreviation Hankamrata (from Pertahanan Keamanan Rakyat Semesta) was used but
in the post-New Order era, after the national police force was separated from the military, this was shortened to
Hanrata (from Pertahanan Rakyat Semesta) as Keamanan refers to domestic security affairs which were
allocated to the police.
136
Law No. 20/1982 on Defence and Security and Law No. 2/1988 on Prajurit ABRI (Soldiers of the Indonesian
Republic Armed Forces).
137
There have been several Laws that institutionalized the doctrine, including Law No. 80/1958 and MPR (S)
Decree No. II/1960 (A/II/404/Sub/C) that positioned the military as a functional group; Laws Nos. 161/1969 and
5/1975 on the Structure and Composition of the MPR (People’s Consultative Assembly), DPR (Parliament) and
DPRD (Local Parliaments); Laws Nos. 2/ 1985, 3/1973, and 3/1985 on Political Parties and Golkar, and MPR
Decrees Nos. IV/1973, IV/1978, II/ 1983, II/1988, II/1993 on GBHN (Broad Outlines of State Policy).
76
The Hankamrata or People’s Total War doctrine was originally drawn from
the experiences in fighting against the Dutch in the revolutionary period.
According to Brig. Gen. Nugroho Notosuanto, a former member of the
“Student Fighter Troops” (Pasukan Tentara Pelajar) and a Minister of
Information in the Suharto era, it was born from the failure of a
(conventional) linear defence strategy.138 When the Dutch military forces
launched the first major military operation in July 1947, they easily
destroyed the first and the second lines of the TNI defense so a (new)
guerilla strategy was formed with the troop deployments organized locally
in defence pockets for each separate area, the military and the people
working together in the fighting resistance.139 This integrated approach
has since been claimed to be effective as the Indonesian military survived
the second Dutch military action in 1948 and, even though the government
was overthrown, continued to fight a guerilla war with this until
international pressure led to the Agreement to transfer power from the
Dutch to the Republic in December 1949.
Since then the various internal security operations conducted by the TNI
have
strengthened
the
justification
for
continuing
to
use
the
Kemanunggalan (Integration) concept. These military operations included
those conducted to force the speeding up of the unification of the “puppet”
federal states into the unitary system and those to put down the 19571958 PRRI-PERMESTA rebellions in Sumatra and Sulawesi. These
experiences suggest that Indonesian unity had serious internal security
threats. Therefore the military believed strongly that for it to be able to
defeat potential internal insurgencies it would have to penetrate deeply
into the social life of the local people to separate the insurgents from the
people, protecting the people and winning their support. Thus this
emphasized the need for the permanent presence of pro-Republic military
138
Notosusanto, Nugroho., The National Struggle and the Armed Forces in Indonesia, (Jakarta: Department of
Information of Indonesia, 1979), pp. 90-114.
139
For deeper discussion about the nature of the guerrilla war see Nasution, Abdul Haris, Fundamentals of
Guerilla Warfare, (Singapore: Donald Moore Books, 1965). See also Paurker, Guy J., The Indonesian Doctrine of
Territorial Warfare And Territorial Management, (Santa Monica, California: The Rand Corporation, 1973)
77
forces in the regions in the forms of territorial commands with their roles of
Hankamrata advancement.
There have been many studies and debates about Dwifungsi,140 a doctrine
that sustained the New Order for more than three decades. Here it suffices
to re-stress that it was much influenced by Nasution’s ‘Middle Way’
model.141 His view should also be understood in a situation, which Feith
and Castles described as marked by
…abortive coups in Jakarta and successful
provinces, increasingly frequent violations of
norms, calls for a radically political order
Soekarno’s for a ‘Guided Democracy’ – and
war.142
ones in the
constitutional
– including
fears of civil
Dwifungsi was developed from this principle. In April 1965 it was
adopted as the military doctrine, which was reinforced in the second
Army Seminar of August 25–31 1966.143 As described in more detail
later, Dwifungsi was afterward implemented in three main ways. First,
the military institutional structures were revamped by inserting political
functions, the bureaucracy was militarized by appointing military officers
to its strategic positions, and political activities were militarily controlled
by using military-led extra-structural bodies (see the second part of this
chapter). Here, it is sufficient to re-emphasize two points.
140
One of the most important works is David Jenkins’ 1983 article, “The evolution of Indonesian Army Doctrinal
Thinking: The Concept of Dwifungsi”, Southeast Asian Journal of Social Science, Vol. 11, No. 2, 1983, p. 14-30.
Jenkins suggested five stages of the historical development of the doctrine: the revolution period (1945 to 1949),
liberal democracy period (1949 to 1957), 1957-1959 instability period (central-regional conflicts, the failure of
parliamentarian democracy, and Martial Law), Guided Democracy (1959 to 1965), and the New Order period
since 1965. More recent accounts include Salim Said’s book, Tumbuh dan Tumbangnya Dwifungsi:
Perkembangan Pemikiran Politik Militer Indonesia 1958 – 2000 (Jakarta: Aksara Kurnia, 2002) and a chapter
about the historical development of Dwifungsi in Rinakit, Sukardi, The Indonesian Military after the New Order
(Singapore: ISEAS Press, 2005).
141
See footnote 1. Regarding the words “the same level”, I Ketut Gunawan has observed that in the military’s
thinking “there is neither civilian supremacy nor military supremacy”. See Gunawan, I Ketut, “Thai and South
Korean Military Withdrawal and Democratization: Notes on the Indonesian Military Politics”, JIIA Fellowship
Occasional Paper 3, 2000, p. 75.
142
Feith, Herbert and Lance Castles, Indonesian Political Thinking 1945-1965. (Ithaca and London: Cornell
University Press, 1970). p. 425.
143
There are three main parts mentioned in the doctrine: 1) Fundamentals of the Doctrine of National Land
Defence; 2) Fundamentals of the Doctrine of the non-military function; and 3) Fundamentals of the Doctrine of
management of the non-military function. See Notosusanto, Op. cit, p. 122.
78
First, when the implementation was designed the political, economic and
security conditions were extremely chaotic following the 30 September
1965 Coup Attempt and the subsequent massive killing tragedies. So it
was not designed in a stable condition that provided a choice for
establishing an apolitical military, but at a time in a longstanding history
that compelled such an involvement. Second, the longevity of the New
Order regime under President Suharto was sustained by the Dwifungsi’s
political institutionalization and its legitimacy resulted from how the
doctrine was implemented. William Liddle described the political
institutionalization as “the Three Pillars of the New Order” – the Armed
Forces, Bureaucrats and Golkar – and the legitimacy-building as
comprising three types of legitimacy: “performance legitimacy’, defined
as economic success; “symbolic legitimacy”, as “popular bureaucrat”;
and the “coercive legitimacy” of the security forces.144
However, its wider acceptance in the Indonesian society under the New
Order was also the result of doctrinal education pursued in civilian and
military schools, through the subjects of P4 (Pedoman Penghayatan dan
Pengamalan
Pancasila/Guide
to
the
Full
Comprehension
and
Application of Pancasila) History, Kewiraan (Manliness), PSPB (History
of the National Struggle) that emphasized, among other elements, the
Dwifungsi
and
Furthermore,
its
the
military’s
usefulness
heroism
was
also
during
the
demonstrated
revolution.145
throughout
Indonesia’s villages by operating the military’s ABRI Masuk Desa (AMD,
ABRI Enters the Village) civic programs, in which the soldiers built
villages’ infrastructures, such as roads, irrigation systems or public
buildings, in order to maintain “the ‘organic’ link between the soldier and
citizens.”146 At the local level (from provincial down to the village), the
144
For more discussion see Liddle, R. William, “Suharto’s Indonesia: Political Rule and Political Institutions”,
Pacific Affairs, Vol.58, No.1, 1985.
145
See Bourchier, David., “The 1950s in the New Order Ideology and Politics,” in Bourchier, David., and Legge,
John (eds.), Democracy in Indonesia in the 1950s and 1990s (Clayton: CSEAS Monash University, 1994), pp.5253. See also McFetridge, Charles Donald, “Seskoad – Training the Elite”, Indonesia, No.36, October 1983, p.95.
146
Weatherbee, David E., “Indonesia’s Armed Forces: Rejuvenation and Regeneration,” Southeast Asian Affairs,
1982, p. 152.
79
implementation of the Dwifungsi was sustained to a greater extent by the
military’s territorial structure, as described next.
3.2. Territorial Structure of the TNI
When the independent Indonesian government was re-established in 1949 the
temporary ‘guerilla government’ that had been operating on a regional basis
under or outside Dutch occupation was abolished but its territorial structure was
kept and used to organize military as well as political forces in the unification of
the, briefly, federated states into a unitary state, as noted before. This military
territorial command structure closely but not exactly corresponds to the civilian
government territorial administrative structure.147 (See Table III.1).
Table III.1. Level of authority of local government and territorial
command.
Level of Authority
Civilian Government
Territorial Command
Kodam/ Korem – Regional
Provinsi – Provincial Government
Military Command/ Subregional Military Command
Kabupaten/ Kota – District/
Kodim – District Military
Municipality Government
Command
Kecamatan – Sub-district
Koramil – Sub-district Military
government
Command
147
The territorial command structure is one main part of the broader military organization. The Indonesian Army is
organized and deployed in two types of Commands; Central Defence Forces (Balahanpus/Bala Pertahanan
Pusat), and Regional Defence Forces or Territorial Commands (Balahanwil/Bala Pertahanan Wilayah). These
two types of troops originated from the concept of people’s total war, later called Perang Rakyat Semesta
(People’s Total War) or Pertahanan Rakyat Semesta (People’s Total Defence). Created in late 1948 by Colonel
(General) Abdul Haris Nasution, Balahanpus consists of two mobile forces. The hierarchy of Territorial Command
levels are the KODAM (Komando Daerah Militer/Military Area Command; KOREM (Komando Resor
Militer/Military Resort Command); KODIM (Komando Distrik Militer/Military District Command); and KORAMIL
(Komando Rayon Militer/Military Rayon Command). A KODAM usually covers one of the larger Provinces or,
outside Java, more than one of the smaller. For example, the KODAM V Brawijaya for East Java Province or the
KODAM I Bukit Barisan for the Provinces of North Sumatra, West Sumatra, Riau and Jambi. A KOREM covers a
smaller Province or several Districts (rural Kabupaten/Regency or urban Kota/City) of larger Provinces. For
example, KOREM 17 Agustus covers West Sumatra Province, but KOREM BDJ Malang covers only the
regencies and cities of Malang, Pasuruan, Probolinggo, Jember, Bondowoso and Situbondo. The rest of the thirty
eight regencies and cities in the Province of East Java were covered by three other KOREMs. A KODIM is over
one or more smaller Districts (Kabupaten) with a KORAMIL for one or two Sub-Districts (Kecamatan). The lowest
level of territorial authority is the Village NCO (BABINSA) who has territorial tasks that cover one or more villages.
See for example, Lowry, Robert, The Armed Forces of Indonesia (Allen & Unwin Pty Ltd, New South Wales,
1996), pp. 74-78.
80
Desa – Village
Babinsa – Village NCO
A large portion of a KODAM’s personnel are regular troops not specifically
assigned territorial tasks.148 Personnel specifically assigned the territorial tasks
are only those at the headquarters of KODAM, KOREM, KODIM or KODAMIL.
The number of these personnel range from around 40 in a KORAMIL to about
300 in a KODAM, with the total size of the territorial staffing of each KODAM
depending on the number of Districts and Sub-Districts within its jurisdiction. In
this thesis, the term Territorial Command or Koter refers mainly only to the four
headquarters of KODAM, KOREM, KODIM or KODAMIL and does not include
the regular troops that were under their lines of commands. Unlike the regular
troops, the Koter has specific territorial roles, mainly described under three main
aspects: Geo, Demo, Konsos (Geography, Demography, and Social Conditions).
The daily work of the Koter was to collect data about these three aspects, analyze
them, and “develop” (membina) them to become RAK JUANG (abbreviation of
Ruang/Space, Alat/Means, Kondisi/Condition, Perjuangan/Struggle) for the
purpose of National Defense.149
The relevance of the territorial command structures, for this study is that
their command structures are organized according to the level of regional
political authority, standing as the main basis for the two levels of “internal”
and “situational security”150, and for the operational level of “military
security”. They were not specifically designed to cope with the political
role, but mainly to carry out the defence role; yet, as noted above, the
function eventually evolved to be also political, reflecting the dual military
political structure. The following section describes in more detail the
political relations of the territorial structure.151
148
They were organized, in a similar way to the Balahanpus troops, in fighting units, either as Companies (around
100 to 200 troops), Battalions (around 600 to 1000 troops), or Brigades (around 3000 to 4000 troops). Usually the
Brigades are under the command of a KODAM Commander in Chief (Pangdam/Panglima Komando Daerah
Militer), while battalions which are not the subordinate units of brigades are under the command of KOREM
commanders.
149
Buku Pentunjuk Koter 2003. This book is not made available to public.
150
See Chapter Two for more about functional separation.
151
Most of the description is based on my personal communications with several senior military officers in East
Java, as well as my own knowledge and understanding as a serving army officer. For the purpose of the study,
the description covers only elements or aspects that are discussed in the case-study chapters (Five to Eleven).
81
3.3. Pre-1998 military politics in East Java
3.3.1. The feature of the local military units
East Java is one of the provinces where Indonesian military units are heavily
concentrated. The highest military authority in the Province is KODAM V
Brawijaya whose Headquarters is located in Surabaya, the Province’s capital. Its
area of jurisdiction covers a territory of about 47,000 km2 which is inhabited by
around 35.5 million people152. Paralleling the Province’s governmental
bureaucratic structure which is divided into four sub-regions (Karesidenan), the
KODAM authority is also divided into four KOREM: KOREM Surabaya, KOREM
Malang, KOREM Madiun, and KOREM Mojokerto. Below these KOREM are 35
KODIM, one for each District (Regency or City), except for Surabaya City which
has three KODIM, for northern, eastern and southern Surabaya. Below each
KODIM are KORAMIL, one for each or a cluster of Kecamatan.153 In 2003 about
78,900 military personnel and 30,000 policemen lived in East Java Province154 –
about 0.3 percent of its 35.5 million people. So, although this is a study about a
local case, it studies military politics in an area whose population is clearly bigger
than the populations of many countries in the world.155
3.3.2. Political elements within/ attached to the Territorial Commands
152
These, and other figures, are based on 2003 statistics produced by Kodam V Brawijaya.
Like Kodam Headquarters, all headquarters at the lower levels are located in the relevant level capital towns,
mostly near the complex of government offices. Numbers of personnel for each KODIM vary, depending on the
number of sub-districts and villages allocated to it, ranging from the smallest with 120 personnel for Malang City to
the biggest with 609 for Malang Regency, the former District having only 5 Sub-Districts and 55 villages while the
latter has 36 and 409 respectively. In 2003, around a third (7,650) of KODAM V Brawijaya’s roughly 20,000
personnel were Babinsa (Village Development Sergeants), about 6,000 were troops forming ten battalions under
the KODAM command, and another third were occupying administrative and staff jobs in the various levels of
headquarters. As well as these territorial units, there were also several non-territorial units based in the East Java
Province. The Army Strategic Reserve Command (KOSTRAD), for example, had one division of about 12000
troops whose brigades and battalions were spread around the districts of East Java. The Indonesian Navy has its
Eastern Fleet in Surabaya with several Naval Bases and a Marine Brigade. The Indonesian Air Force has two big
Air Force Bases in the Regencies of Malang and Madiun. The Indonesian Regional Police, with a similar territorial
structure to the military’s, had its Regional Police command (POLDA/Polisi Daerah) in Surabaya, a Sub-Regional
Police command (POLWIL/ Polisi Wilayah) in each of the four Karesidenan, a Resort Police command
(POLRES) in each District, a Sector Police (POLSEK/ Polisi Sektor) in every Sub-District, and Community
Protecting Sergeants (BALINMAS/Bintara Pelindung Masyarakat) in the villages. For more information about the
structure of Indonesian military forces, see for example Lowry, Robert, Op. cit., Chapters 4, 5 and 6.
154
The number is based on the document produced by Kodam V Brawijaya in 2003.
155
th
It would be about 34 , just ahead of Kenya, Morocco and Canada, according to the US Census Bureau
statistics for 2006
153
82
In East Java, as elsewhere, extra-structural (political) elements were
added to the territorial structures. These were the Bakorstanasda,
Wansospolda, Wansospolrem, Litsus, Staf Sospoldam, Staf Solpolrem
and Staf Sospoldim, which are described in the following sub-sections.
3.3.2.1. Bakorstanas and Litsus
To restore law and order after the 30th September 1965 Communist
Attempt Coup, a national body called the Kopkamtib (Komando Pemulihan
Keamanan dan Ketertiban/Restoration Command of Security and Order)
was created with General (later President) Suharto as Commander in
Chief. At the KODAM level, such as for East Java, the corresponding body
was named Laksusda (Komando Pelaksana Daerah/Regional Executing
Command). Later, with Presidential Decree No. 29/1988, the national
Kopkamtib was replaced by Bakorstanas (Badan Koordinasi Pemantapan
Stabilitas dan Ketahanan Nasional/Coordinating Body for National Stability
and Resilience), while the KODAM’s Laksusda was replaced by a
Bakorstanasda
(Badan
Koordinasi
Pemantapan
Stabilitas
Daerah/Coordinating Body for Regional Stability and Resilience). The
KODAM’s Bakorstanasda had an intelligence capability, and the right to
arrest anyone suspected of being a disturbance to social and political
stability. In the name of stability, the Territorial Commander had authority
to intervene across civilian departments, private and social organizations.
The membership of Bakorstanasda included all leaders of the respective
area: Government leader, Chairman of the DPRD, Military District
Commander, Regional Police Chief and Judicial Chief. It also had a
permanent organizational structure staffed by both military and civilian
officials. The civilian members could be bureaucrats, lecturers, or social or
religious leaders who advised the Chairman on a wide range of aspects of
social problems.
The former Chairman of the Supreme Advisory Council, Admiral Retired
Sudomo, who was also a former Commander of the national Kopkamtib,
publicly explained in 2000 that this body and its successor, the
Bakorstnas, had been established with a task covering all aspects of
83
social and politics that could affect national stability. Yet, he said that
specific emphasis had been given to the prevention of any Communist
resurrection, to store or collect archives of Communist Party movements in
Indonesia, in particular data in relation to the 1948 Madiun and 1965
incidents. For this specific task, by a Presidential Decree (Surat
Keputusan Presiden, No. 16/ 1990), a special screening (Litsus) was
applied to ensure no one could develop Communism in Indonesia.156
During the New Order era, all would-be candidates for elections to
Provincial or District Legislative Assemblies, for example, were required to
pass this Litsus in the relevant Koter headquarters, and the results were
determined and approved by the local Bakorstanasda, the Wansospol
described next. Those who were categorized as “unclean” in terms of
Communist influence were not issued a SKKT (Surat Keterangan Tidak
Terlibat/Certificate of being Free of Communist Influence) and could not
stand for election to the local Assembly.
3.3.2.2. Wansospol and Staf Sospol
As at the national level there was a Dewan Sospol (abbreviated to
Wansospol), Social and Political Boards, at the KODAM and KOREM
levels it was called Wansospolda and Wansospolrem respectively. These
consisted of local senior officers and territorial commanders who had the
authority to process the assignment of military officers into civilian
positions in the local government bureaucracies. The KODAM’s board was
led by the Pangdam, the Territorial Commander, corresponding to the
national level board being led by the Armed Forces Commander in Chief,
and at KOREM level by the Danrem.
In addition, a Staf Sospol or Social and Political Staff Unit, was attached to
the territorial structure at each level above the village, to assist their
territorial commanders with data and analysis about social political aspects
within the territorial area. At the Provincial KODAM level the unit was
156
Aspects related to the national stability was very broadly interpreted at operational level, the tasks of the body
included being mediator of various labour conflicts, land conflicts, communal conflicts etc. See “Sudomo: It should
have been done long ago,” Kompas Online, 9 March 2000.
84
headed by a Colonel, at the KOREM by a Lieutenant Colonel, and at the
KODIM by a Captain. The Staf Sospol assisted the territorial commanders
at each level in disseminating military policies regarding social and political
developments, and in external communications with local governments,
local Assemblies or other local institutions.
3.3.3. Military elements within local political structures
In addition to the political instruments attached to the territorial commands
discussed above, the military also controlled the Province’s local institutions
through Kekaryaan157, the military occupation of vital positions within these
institutions, especially its government bureaucracy and legislatures.
3.3.3.1. Military appointments to the local government bureaucracy
The military occupation of positions in the local bureaucracies was not
limited to the top positions of Governor (Province), Regent or Mayor
(Districts), but was extended to many lower positions within the local
government structure. At the District (Regency or City) level each division
head position was liable to military occupation, but the ones that were
commonly occupied by the military were the Chairman of the Social and
Political Office (Kansospol) and of Regional Civil Defence (Mawil Hansip),
the Market Chief (Kepala Pasar), the Bus Station Chief (Kepala Terminal),
Directors of Regional Transportation (Organda) and of Regional
Telecommunication (Dinashub), and the Regional Parking Chief (Kepala
Parkir). Among those the Kansospol was the most influential position in
terms of local politics. Along with the Mawil Hansip, the Kansospol
positions were always occupied by an Army Lieutenant Colonel. The other
positions in the bureaucracy were mainly occupied not for political or
security reasons but because they generated and controlled considerable
financial resources, although the Organda and Dinashub also theoretically
involved important facilities to support military operations.
157
Kekaryaan or tugas karya means assignment of military officers to civilian positions.
85
As noted, each District’s Kansospol office had a direct line to the
Provincial Directorate of Sospol, and to the Directorate General of
Sospolof in the Ministry of Internal Affairs at national level. As the Chiefs of
Kansospol were always military officers, this secured the nominally civilian
networks within the military institutions Even in cases where the Mayor or
Regent was a civilian, the Chief of Kansospol could act quite
independently of that person although structurally it was a subordinate
division. When the Regent or Mayor was also a military officer, usually a
Colonel, the Chief of Kansospol became his main political assistant. The
Chief of Kansospol had responsibility for assessing any official to be
promoted into important positions in the local government. This included
applying a Litsus (Special Screening), officially to make sure that someone
was not leftist or radical rightist although such a screening could generally
be used to classify a person as “one of us or them” in political groupings.
Those employees who were identified as having leftist or radical rightist
tendencies were to be excluded from promotion or, in a worst scenario, to
be fired.
Internal to the operations of local government, the Kakansospol continually
observed the political behaviors of the government employees. Politically,
all civil servants were required to have “loyalitas tunggal”, one and only
loyalty, to Golkar, and automatically became members and activists of
Golkar, and members of the KORPRI (Korp Pegawai Negeri Republik
Indonesia/RI Civil Servants Organization) or of the PGRI (Persatuan Guru
Republik Indonesia/RI Teachers Organization), through which their loyalty
was continually watched and assessed. Job placements and career
promotion were highly determined by the degree of loyalty presented,
including that by family members. It was possible for a civil servant to be
not promoted, or even fired, for example when his or her spouse was
found to be an activist of an opposition party. The observation was
normally carried out by means of military–bureaucracy networks, for
example, in the village among the Babinsa (Village NCO), Kades (Village
leader) and the heads of the RT/RW (neighborhood associations).
86
Externally, the Kakansospol had the responsibility of supervising all
political parties, mass and social organizations, including in designing and
determining the forms and the programs of their organizations. This
ensured that all organizations could not develop towards being able to
challenge the government and the government ruling party Golkar. The
Kakansospol coordinated the execution of Litsus for prospective
candidates for the local legislatures, including those of the opposition
parties, with the military territorial commands and its Bakorstanasda
(Coordinating Body for Regional Stability).
3.3.3.2. The military in the Local Legislative Assemblies (DPRD)
As elsewhere in Indonesia under the New Order, in East Java the military
domination in the local legislatures was gained from a combination of its
decreed 20% of the total seats of each DPRD with its underlying
domination over the Golkar faction, usually the biggest faction of a DPRD.
Apart from the F-ABRI (Fraksi-ABRI, the military faction in a DRPD) and FGolkar the only other parliamentary groupings allowed during the New
Order were the factions of the Islamic PPP and the non-Muslim (secular
and Christian) PDI. In the 1997 DPRD of Malang City for example, of the
total 45 members, 17 were F-Golkar and 9 F-ABRI (military faction), thus
an absolute majority of 26 together. The remaining 19 were 16 F-PPP and
3 F-PDI. In more extreme cases like the DPRD of Magetan Regency, all
members were either F-Golkar (36) or F-ABRI (9) with no F-PPP or F-PDI,
while in Madiun Regency, F-Golkar had 35, F-ABRI 9, the F-PPP only 1
and the F-PDI no members.
The military’s influence in Golkar was not only because an important
portion of the Golkar faction members were from military families, but also
because the Golkar leadership was dominated by the military. Among the
“military’s family” were included members of the Soldier’s Wives
Association (PERSIT), the Retired Military Association (PEPABRI) and the
Military’s Children’s Association (FKPPI). In terms of the leaderships, until
1998, 32 of the F-Golkar in the 37 Districts of the East Java were led by
87
retired military officers. Consequently, domination of the leaderships of the
DPRD was also easily gained. When a decision was taken by a
deliberation mechanism, the leadership domination was an effective tool,
and when a decision was taken through voting, the majority in numbers
was already held. In fact, most decisions were taken through deliberation.
Normally officers with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel occupied positions in the
Province’s various DPRD. However, being appointed to the legislatures was
considered as less attractive to career officers.158 Despite this, it was not always
disadvantageous because it could be a temporary, useful stepping stone toward
subsequent strategic positions. It was also common that the officers would move
several times into civilian positions and then come back to military jobs. So, it was
not unusual for good-career officers to be holding positions in the legislatures
since it was seen as an important part of their career development. The presence
of able officers had contributed to the quality of military representatives in the
legislatures in the past.
To understand the impact of the post-1998 declining military role on the
DPRD it is important to see the role of these Provincial and District
Assemblies in the New Order era. Acording to the Law at that time, the
DPRD was one part of the total Local Government (PEMDA/Pemerintah
Daerah) with the local executive bureaucracy as the other159 but, instead
of controlling the PEMDA’s executive branch, the DPRD simply endorsed,
in a procedural formality, every single policy initiated by the executive. As
mentioned earlier, the local governments’ leaders had special forums in
which they could persuade and insist on the executive’s political
preferences. Importantly, because the executives were led by the military,
it was the responsibility of the military officers in the legislatures to prevent
any resistance that could rise from the opposition factions there. The
158
Career officers are those officers who joined the military through the Army, Naval or Airforce Academies. In
these they are trained for 3-4 years to hold command positions, and prepared or projected to subsequently hold
top leaderships in the Indonesian Military. Secondments to DPRD positions were less desirable especially when
compared to the positions in local bureaucratic executive structures such as those of District Bupati/Mayor or
Provincial Governor. It was also less favourable than command positions either in territorial structures or the
military’s regular units. It was less desirable not only in terms of prestige e.g. no commanding power, but also in
terms of financial benefits e.g. no authority over a large budget allocation.
159
National Law of Regional Government No.5/74.
88
legislatures’ role was thus far less than its theoretical sense, which was to
represent actual public aspirations and participations. So the military’s
active control over local politics was mainly carried out through the
executives of the Provincial and District local governments, not their
legislative bodies which, during the New Order era, had the role mainly to
be “the constitutional stamp” that legalized and backed up their executives’
domination.
3.3.4. Local inter-institution relations: coordination of social and political
controls
As described previously, during the New Order each Province had an
array of Social and Political Boards, Muspida and other forms of socialpolitical forums operating through the interlocking military-government
relations down through hierarchical levels from Provincial to Sub-District
and below. These informal forums had been very effective in coordinating
problems involving all local institutions. They were very solid, not only
because they had intensive meetings but also, because the members
were dominated by the military officers, they adopted military hierarchical
values. Except for judiciary leaders and the police chief (who was also a
member of ABRI before the separation of ABRI into the military TNI and
the police POLRI), they were usually all military officers, including the
DPRD Chairman and Golkar’s Chairman. Normally the local government
executive leader was the most senior Colonel, so was obeyed and
respected by the others. Therefore, this government leader effectively
controlled the other local institutions.
Power was concentrated in the local executive that had strong influence
over all local institutions imposing and sustaining political power, including
legislative and judiciary bodies and even the community. The government
leader maintained this influence through the Muspida. Most local
problems, whether of governance, social, political or security, were
deliberated through this forum. The local government provided a monthly
89
allowance for the Muspida members , Uang Muspida (Muspida Money).160
As well as the local Muspida forum there were also special forums such as
Forum ½ Kamar (1/2 cameral forum) or Forum ¼ Kamar (1/4 cameral
forum). These were specific forums for discussion of political problems
between the local government leader, the local F-ABRI and the local FGolkar (the members of the Military and Golkar Factions in the local
DPRD). The Forum ½ Kamar was a meeting among the three parties,
while the Forum ¼ Kamar was between the government and either one of
the factions.
3.3.5. Military relationships with the local bureaucracies
The pre-1998 relationships in East Java between the military Territorial
Commanders and the Heads of (nominally civilian) Local Governments
can be seen as two-way patron-client relationships, depending on the level
of each. For example, a District Regent or Mayor was the client not only of
the Governor as the direct superior ‘civilian’ administrative authority, but
also of the Pangdam (Military Area Commander in Chief) who had decided
or approved his nomination as the Regent or Mayoral candidate in the first
place.
161
Also, the future careers of these Regents and Mayors depended
on their Pangdam as the Chairman of the KODAM’s Wansospolda. He
had the authority to allow or make them stay in the position or be pulled
back to the military units.
Yet, the local military-bureaucracy relations could not be simplified only to
the pattern of military control over the bureaucracy. Instead, it also
160
The amount of the money varied from one District to another. In Malang for example, in 2003 each Muspida
member got Rp.2,500,000 rupiah (around US$300), about the same as their official monthly salary. This
information was received in my personal communication with an official in the Pemda (Local Government Office)
of Malang Regency, who was responsible for distributing the money to the Muspida members.
161
The patronage power was regulated by a procedure of the “Kekaryaan”, the terminology for military personnel
being appointed to civilian executive posts. In the case of Bupati (leaders of the government executive
bureaucracy of rural or largely rural Districts) for example, the procedure of appointment was regulated by a
Decree of the (national) Armed Forces Commander in Chief. The form of this Decree had been adjusted several
th
times, the last time by Decree No. 811/ XII/ 1996 dated December 4 , 1996. This determined that the mechanism
was to be started if there was a requesting letter for a military Bupati candidate from the Provincial Governor to the
Province’s KODAM Pangdam (Military Area Commander in Chief) who would appoint this officer (who would be
one of his subordinates) as a candidate after consulting the national Armed Forces Headquarters. The success of
an officer to be nominated as the Bupati/Walikota (Regent/Mayor) candidate was therefore determined formally
by the Dewan Sospol (Social Political Board), chaired by the Armed Forces Commander in Chief at national level
and by the Sospolda of the KODAM at Provincial level.
90
operated the other way around; the military territorial units were obliged to
support the bureaucracy. So, a system of zigzag controls prevailed from
the higher to the lower level of each part, as seen in Chart III.1.
Chart III. 1: Relations between positions in the local military and the
local government executives in the New Order.
Level of Authority Executive Bureaucracy Territorial Structure
Governor:
(Senior) Major General
Provincial level
Pangdam:
(Junior) Major General
Sub-provincial level
Danrem:
(Senior) Colonel
Regent or Mayor:
(Senior) Colonel
District level
Dandim:
(Lieutenant Colonel)
Direct line of command
Patron-client relationships
At District level, for example, the Dandim military commander had to
support the power of the District’s executive bureaucracy leader, the
Regent in a rural area or the Mayor in an urban one. Similarly, at the
Provincial level, the Pangdam and Danrem had to back up the power of
the Governor. For the military leadership to get access to the local
governments’ economic resources, or to be recommended as a successor
to them, the Regents or Mayors had to be made happy with the local
military’s performance in supporting their interests. In this respect, apart
from financial benefits and opportunities gained, playing political roles can
be seen more as political burdens than rewards for the institutions. These
91
relations were possible because particular positions of bureaucracy
leaders were usually related to particular ranks in the military structures.
However, no matter how the relations were seen, whether as the military
controlling the bureaucracy or vice versa or as a complicated and shifting
mixture, they had the consequence that the officer positions in Koter, the
Territorial Command, were commonly see more in terms of seeking
political and financial power than advancing a purely military career, or at
least as crucial steps to gain higher positions in a military career. As seen
in Diagram III.2, military political instruments were operated at all political
institutions at all levels within the Province.
Table III. 2: Key elements of the formal military involvement in
politics at local level during the New Order era.
Within the
Within the
Within the
Within the
Bureaucracy
Legislatures Political Parties
Military
Territorial
Command
Territorial
commanders
as the Chiefs of
Bakorstanasda,
Wansospolda
and
Wansospolrem.
Litsus by
Intelligence
Staff
Staf Sospol
(Social Political
Staff section at
each level)
Military Officers as
the Governors,
Regents and
Mayors
Military Officers as
the Head of
Sospol
Directorate/
Ditsospol at
provincial level,
and Sospol
Office/Kansospol
at district level
Domination of the
Muspida
Military
Domination
of Local
Parliament
(DPRD)
Leaderships
Military
Faction
(F-ABRI)
Domination
of the
leaderships
of the
majority
Golkar
Faction
Golkar
(Government
ruling party)
dominated by
military.
PPP and PDI
(Opposition
parties)
controlled tightly
by
Bakorstanas/da,
Wansospol, or
Kakansospol
92
The military territorial commanders thus had strong power in local intrainstitution relations because of their ability to utilize these instruments. The
staff structure of the Bakorstanasda and implementation of the Litsus also
provided additional jobs for the officers and contributed significant amount
of money to the military.
3.3.6. Personal Benefits of Service in the Koter
For the officers, experiences in the Territorial Command could be just as
important as the money in their career building. Positions of territorial
commanders such as Military District Commander (Dandim), Military
Resort Commander (Danrem), and Military Area Commander in Chief
(Pangdam) at Provincial level, were very strategic springboards to get into
politically and economically powerful civilian government posts. Dandim
and Danrem were strong positions to aim at Bupati/Regent or Mayor
positions, while Pangdam was the best for the Governor’s position. Once
such territorial commander positions had been held, dozen of other
subsequent positions were also opened up. These could range from the
Pembina in Golkar (the government ruling party) and its affiliated
organizations to the Bakorstanasda for a Pangdam or the Chairman of
Wansospol or the Chairman of Koter’s business foundations. These
positions would provide the officers with not only abundant sources of
money but also political experiences, connections and power needed for
higher political or bureaucratic positions in Jakarta. At that central national
level being Director General or Secretary General of Departments of the
Cabinet were common civilian positions to get next, or a transfer back to
military regular jobs at higher positions. For the best career officers, since
it was “a piece of cake” to get launch-pad positions such as Bupati or
Mayor, Chairman of a Local Parliament (DPRD) or other positions at
District level, these positions could be their final appointment, but could be
longer-standing (a full two terms) positions for officers with less successful
military careers.
93
It was not unusual for the main tasks formally outlined by the headquarters
to become a lower priority than the individuals’ businesses. The activities
required in official job descriptions in collecting information and analysing
“Geo-Demo-Konsos” (Geographic, Demographic, and Social Condition)
aspects required for territorial personnel and units were given very little
attention. The building and maintenance of business networks were crucial
in financing the operation of the political role of the territorial units. Indeed,
symbiotic interactions marked the relations between the local territorial
commanders and the local business elites during the New Order period.
While the businessmen could support career and political ambitions of the
officers, the officers with their powers, including political, could not only
guarantee the physical security of their businesses, but also could
strengthen their lobbying in struggles over project tenders offered by the
local governments.
The intensity of interactions with external interests varied greatly from one
unit to another, from one position to another, as well as from one individual
to another. The greater the possibility of interacting intensively, the more
favoured the unit or the position will be. Actually, there were several
factors that influenced the choice of location of territorial unit they
preferred to be moved to. Whether the individual personnel would be
assigned in the locations according to what they wanted was mostly
determined by “kasak-kusuk” (lobbying and negotiation). While this applied
to all ranks, there was a difference in the formal procedures which applied.
Whereas the rank and file soldiers were offered a choice of preferred
location included in an application form for moving, the career officers
were not. For most rank and file soldiers, place of birth or origin of family
usually came first as the move was seen as a part of preparation for
retirement, and “basah-kering” (business opportunity, literally ‘wet-dry’) as
a second consideration. For career officers basah-kering usually came
first. For example, being appointed as a Commander of the Military District
Command in a city was more attractive than in a (rural) regency, in a big
city rather than in a small city, and in an industrial city/regency rather than
in a largely agricultural area.
94
However, although economically a position in a big industrial city was
more beneficial for territorial units, politically it was less so as in more
traditional agricultural regencies the existence of the military seemed to be
more respected by the people and be more involved in the local politics.
Some reasons for this phenomenon are that people in the latter generally
had a lower education level which contributed to a lower appreciation
about democratic civil-military relations, a smaller middle class that thus
would present less potential to challenge the existence of the military in
politics, a smaller and weaker local press which limited political
transparency and public participation, and more of a feudalistic culture that
saw the military personnel as having higher social status and thus to be
respected. Despite this, business opportunity mainly dominated the
preference for territorial unit (Koter) locations for officers. Related to this,
how much money would have to be spent for “kasak-kusuk” purposes
depended mainly on how favoured the locations were in this regard.
The importance of Koter positions was not only for the officers but also for
the soldiers, although the soldiers considered their positions more in terms
of financial gains than political power, and as preparation to enter
retirement. The most favourite position for the soldiers being appointed
into the Koter was as a Babinsa (Bintara Pembina Desa/Village SergeantNCO). This position was also crucial in building political support for Golkar.
In fact, the Babinsa was involved in all aspects of development of the
village including social, political and economic aspects, and security
approaches were utilized in solving almost all problems of these aspects.
Although structurally the position of Babinsa was not higher than that of
the Kepala Desa (Village Head), mostly Kepala Desa were dependent on
and effectively in a lower position than the Babinsa as the latter frequently
positioned himself, and was accepted, as “atas nama komandan” (acting
on behalf of the military higher commanders), although sometimes
manipulating this for his individual interests. Politically, a Babinsa was
capable of mobilizing the village people, through the Kepala Desa, to
support the success of development programs outlined by the higher
95
authorities at national level, as well as the success of Golkar in every
general election.
3.3.7. The local military’s relations with the society before 1998
Although the primary source of military political power came from its
coercive capability, to sustain the power the military needed a sufficient
level of public “acceptance” or “legitimacy”.162 As previously mentioned
William Liddle has suggested that the social and political stability that
sustained the long-standing New Order regime was based in the regime’s
legitimacy: its economic “performance”, “popular bureaucrats”, and
“coercive legitimacy”.163 However, those three kinds of legitimacy,
especially coercive legitimacy could not have been maintained without
being supported by a systematic control of the polity such as described
above, which Liddle has also described as the institutionalization of “the
three pillars” of the New Order – the military, bureaucracy and Golkar.164
The coercion legitimacy implies that resistances to the ways the military
ruled the country did exist, but they were put under strong control. In the
case of land conflicts for instance, as reported by the scholar Ikrar Nusa
Nusabakti, under the New Order government the villagers were too fearful
to protest when their lands were taken unfairly. They believed that in the
end their loss would be greater if they did protest, not only because of the
corrupt judicial system, but mostly as they would face the military threats
and intimidations organized by the opposing parties. The East Java cases
in Nipah, Sampang District, where dozens of villagers were shot by the
security forces, and in Jenggawa, Jember District, where villagers were
162
Sundhaussen, Ulf, “The Durability of Military Regimes in Southeast Asia”, in Zakaria Haji Ahmad and Harold
Crouch, (eds.), Military-Civilian Relations in Southeast Asia, (Singapore: Oxford University Press, 1985), pp. 270286.
163
For further explanation, see Liddle, R. William., “Suharto’s Indonesia: Political Rule and Political Institutions”,
Pacific Affairs, Vol.58, No.1, 1985.
164
Ibid.
96
arrested and tortured, both in 1996, were some examples of the hapless
position of the villagers relative to their local military-backed opponents.165
Although in some cases violence was involved, most local social conflicts
were resolved through the deliberative mechanism of the Bakorstanasda
headed by the Pangdam (Military Area Commander in Chief) of KODAM V
Brawijaya which covered East Java Province.166 If cases were brought to
the court, its decisions would be under influential interventions and
pressures from this body against the villagers, while in the field the
villagers were usually persuaded in a deliberation process through their
Village Heads who would be backed-up by military territorial and police
personnel. The nearest military units would also be asked to provide
security back-up for the companies which, in return, would pay security
funds to the units. The coercively oppressive attitudes of the security
forces would effectively secure the land from any villagers who attempted
to provoke an escalation of the conflict. Human rights violation by the
troops was not uncommon. As mentioned above, there was an infamous
case in Jenggawah where, in January 1996, the troops of Battalion 512
forced the villagers to confess to something they never did, the burning of
the storage sheds of the state company PTP XXVII in Lengkong Village,
Jenggawah, Jember Regency. This was revealed when six farmers wrote
and signed a letter to the Pangdam of KODAM Brawijaya, Maj. Gen. Imam
Utomo, on 17 January 1996. A week later (on 26 January), speaking at a
meeting with the Muspida, the Pangdam admitted that there had been
“wrong procedures” done by the troops. He had instructed the Unit’s
Commander to pull back the troops and apologize. Nevertheless, it was
uncommon to bring such a case to court.167
The press would not have been brave enough to produce news that went
against the government authority’s interests, unless it was prepared to be
banned, or the journalist to be “amankan” (meaning arrested or killed, but
165
For discussion on these cases see for example Bhakti, Ikrar Nusa (ed.) , Militer dan Politik Kekerasan Orde
Baru (Military and Political Violence of the New Order) (Bandung: Penerbit Mizan, 2001), pp. 183-199.
166
As described previously, the Bakorstanasda comprised all local state leaders: government bureaucracy,
military, police and judiciary.
167
See Kompas, 26 January 1966.
97
literally “pacified”).168 Critics and allegations against the authority would
not appear in the headlines. The authority could easily steer the public
opinion toward the intended target it was disposed to blame, and held
effective threats and actions to prevent and stop public unrest, thus
ensuring stability.169 The “maintenance of stability” needed for the
continuation
of
development
programs
had
always
justified
the
government’s actions against any unwanted publications or unwelcome
people’s actions. This is despite some allegations that some violent
incidents up to 1998 were at some stages caused by military members to
provoke fear and requests for security and protection thereby legitimating
their continuing presence and influence.170
So far this section has presented some pieces of the picture of the New
Order regime, especially the political machinery of its military at the local
level. It shows that after the military took over national power in 1966, the
military’s political dominance was maintained by broadening the
implementation of the Dual Function doctrine of the armed forces, such as
structurally by attaching political functions/organizational elements to the
military
institutions
and
restructuring
the
political
structures
and
government bureaucracies where the military officers were assigned
strategic positions. So it shows the stage of military’s political domination
when the New Order collapsed in May 1998, a stage from where the
military political withdrawal would take place.
To link this back to the previous main issue, what historical legacies of
military politics would the New Order pass onto the post-New Order
period? Firstly, there is the Dwifungsi or Dual Function (the defense and
social-political roles
of the military) that
had been widely and
168
One example was a journalist of the Harian Bernas (Bernas Daily), Fuad M Syafruddin, who was kidnapped
and killed after reporting a scandal of 1 million rupiah paid by Colonel Sri Roso to be the Batul Regent, Central
Java, in 1996. In June 1998, the Regent was interrogated on the allegation of his involvement in the “Udin killing”.
See “Kasus Udin: Bupati Bantul Bersedia Diperiksa Polisi”, Kompas 2 June 1998. His house was occupied by
mobs who demanded he resign. See “Rumah Dinas Bupati Diduduki Masa”, Kompas 3 June 1998.
169
See Kingsbury, Op.cit., especially chapter 8, pp. 124-144.
170
See for example Rinakit, Sukardi, “Decentralization and the Military”, in Erb, Maribeth; Priyambudi Sulistiyanto
and Carole Faucher (eds.) Regionalism in Post-Suharto Indonesia (London and New York: RoutledgeCurzon,
2005), p. 84.
98
systematically indoctrinated in more than thirty years and that has been
very strongly entrenched to justify the military involvement in politics. Jun
Honna, for example, argues that during the New Order era “ideological
reformulation” has been used “to rationalize the hardliner military approach
to democratic movements”.171 This Dwifungsi mind-set of the officers
would probably not change easily in the short term.
Secondly, there had been a political institutionalization, which pre-New
Order regimes could barely and rarely achieve, that had been to some
extent achieved by the New Order, but it went in an unfortunate
direction,to a military-style political system.172 The polity became more
manageable by the state regime than in the eras before the New Order,
but it reflected more the aspiration of the New Order (military) government
than of the people, thus was undemocratic. Liddle described this
institutionalization as being actually limited to “the Pyramid” of the New
Order‘s state institutions – Suharto, military, ruling party Golkar, and
bureaucracy173. This made the state institutions became very strong, but
made its society very weak. The strong feature of these institutions,
however, was coloured by its undemocratic, corrupt and unaccountable
ingredients established in strong elite networks.
Thirdly, the military command and control system became much more
integrated, stronger and effective, but due to the deep political involvement
of the military and its individual personnel, military professionalism was
compromised by political and personal interests, and loyalty (especially at
the high level) came to be measured more in terms of political
considerations than of professional military duties. Factionalism based on
ideologies, sources of recruitments (KNILL/ PETA etc), and localities were
no longer found, but subtle competitions based on personal ties, such as
among groups of Suharto men and non-Suharto men, different years of
171
Honna, Jun, “Military Ideology in Response to Democratic Pressure during the Late Suharto Era: Political and
Institutional Content,” Indonesia, Vol. 67, April 1999, pp. 77-127.
172
This style is most appropriately seen as gradually modified between the forms of military regime ranging from
“direct quasi-civilianized” to an ‘indirect-limited’, using Finer’s classification as discussed in Chapter Two.
173
See Liddle, R. William, “Suharto’s Indonesia: Political Rule and Political Institutions”, Pacific Affairs, Vol.58,
No.1, 1985.
99
officer graduations, as well as red/nationalist vs. green/Islamic, were also
developing and giving a new colour of internal conflicts or factionalism
within the military.174
Fourthly, there is a memory about the economic success of the New
Order. Earlier it was noted that Liddle in 1985 argued that the New Order’s
durability was sustained by a strong legitimacy, which he explained as
“performance legitimacy”, defined as economic achievement, as well as
“symbolic
legitimacy”.
legitimacy”
175
or
“bureaucratic
populism”
and
“coercive
So, if democratization could not achieved better results, this
memory and experience about the economic development success under
militaristic management and leadership could possibly preserve the
military distrust toward democracy and civilian political systems, as well as
hinder an emergence of a total/strong resistance within the civilian society
to the military’s political involvements. Later in 1996, Liddle added another
legitimacy, electoral “democratic legitimization” which was carried out
under the Pancasila ideology, which he labeled as a “useful fiction”,176
which seems related to what he had called “symbolic legitimacy”. As this
minimized the chance for the Indonesian people to exercise a “true
democracy”,177 the New Order produced civilian elites who lacked
experience to run a “truly democratic” system.
So, despite its success in modernizing state (and military) institutions, the
New Order period produced and passed disadvantageous legacies to the
next regime, such as a militaristic political culture, a neglected military
174
As summarized by Douglass Kammen and Siddarth Chandra, in A Tour of Duty : Changing Patterns of
Military Politics in Indonesia in the 1990s, there was a long-standing interpretation of personal transfers as
“simmering conflicts” among the military elites. For an historical explanation see for example, Ruth McVey who, in
her 1972 essay “The Post-Revolutionary Transformation of the Indonesian Army Part II”, presented an historical
analysis of the transformation of the military as an institution, from a guerrilla force to a modern force, that
eventually brought it to be the most effective and strongest political force in the country. Here, it seems that what
McVey has called “the diffusion of power within the military” has regained its importance.
175
See the notes in section 3.3.7.
176
Liddle has had also several works about the New Order elections, including, Liddle, William., Pemilu-Pemilu
Orde Baru (New Order elections), (Jakarta: LP3ES, 1992; Liddle, William., “A Useful Fiction: Democratic
Legimization in the New Order Indonesia” in R H Taylor (ed), the Politics of Elections in Southeast Asia,
Cambridge University Press, 1996, and Liddle, William, “Indonesian Elections: Personal Power and Regime
Legitimacy”, Muslim Politics Report 14 July/ August 1997.
177
As noted in Chapter Two, p. 34-35, Huntington defines “true democracy” as “effective citizen control over
policy, responsible government, honesty and openness in politics, informed and rational deliberation, equal
participation and power, and various other civic virtues”.
100
professionalism, and a lack of experiences in running an effective
democracy for the civilian leaders. As seen across the case-study
chapters (Five to Eleven) later, these legacies of the previous regime have
been among the difficult problems that 1998 democratization have been
facing. The next chapter reviews studies on military politics in Indonesia.
4. Conclusion
The review of military politics in the previous regime, pre-1998 withdrawal,
suggests the complexity of the military’s political involvement in Indonesia,
as complex as what had been mentioned earlier in Chapter Two. On one
hand, the historically politicized development of the military institution and
officer corps, its long-standing self-perception as the saviour of the
Indonesian state, its various forms of internal factionalism and conflicts
encouraged the military officers to involve themselves in politics. On the
other hand, a seriously divisive polity with unstable governments and
social and political disintegrations that characterized the weakness and
failures of the civilian political system provided opportunity for that
involvement. Both those sets of factors were to some extent affected by
international political conflicts from the very beginning of the existence of
the Indonesian state. All factors were tied together to form dialectical
interactions in determining the nature of the Indonesian state-building, with
its varying degrees of military involvement in politics. Although the task of
this study is not to analyze these factors as causes of the military
intervention in the first place, an understanding of this longer historical
background with its legacies leading to the system of activities operating at
the recent point of departure from where the process of military withdrawal
from politics took place is important to adequately understand what this
study is dealing with - the process and the impact of that military political
withdrawal at the local level.
101
Chapter Four
METHODOLOGY
1. The Research Strategy
As noted, the plan of this research was to explore the process and the
impacts of the withdrawal and their problems at the local level over several
aspects of military politics. These aspects were to include: 1) those
internal to the military, such as the military institutions and personnel; 2)
those external to the military, namely, political institutions and officials,
politicians and societies; and 3) the changing patterns of interactions –
between those two sets of internal and external aspects, as well as within
each set of them – that affected or were affected by their political views,
doctrines, ideologies, interests or behaviours.178 Therefore, any research
strategy to be used had to be able to facilitate efforts to meet these goals.
1.1. A “multi-strategy” analysis
In order to be able to study those three aspects of local military politics,
the study needed a methodology that enables “analytic or methodological
cuts” across macro-micro, and quantitative-qualitative analysis – such as
the approach of “multi-strategy” analysis.179 This kind of methodology
allows a reasonable balance of exploration and comprehension of the
dynamic changes of military politics and their consequences. For example,
the study needed to understand: in what (macro) contexts the changes
took place; in what institutional settings (territorial units, military fractions,
government offices, legislatures, or political parties) the changes had
impacts; what types of individuals in military or civilian positions were
178
See Chapter Two for theoretical discussion; and also Chapter I about why the study was of the local level.
A “multi strategy” approach is used for social research, not specifically used for the study of civil military
relations, but this approach is quite useful for this study of civil-military relations at the local level. See Layder,
Derek, New Strategies in Social Research: An Introduction Guide (Polity Press, Cambridge, 1993).
179
102
affected; how specific (micro) face-to-face interactions among them were
affected; what kinds of (macro) values, doctrines, cultures or histories
influenced these interactions. To a major extent, the appropriate data and
analysis to satisfy these needs would be descriptive qualitative to interpret
the views and behaviors of military-civil social or political interactions.
However, to a minor extent, simple quantitative statistical methods would
also be useful to portray trends, for instance, in any changing balance of
power between “military” and “civilian” as indicated by their relative
success or failure in local elections. So, different levels and types of data
and analysis have been used at different points of this study, but they are
used to complement each other to support the generally qualitative
approach which is dominant in the whole thesis.
By using the multi-strategy approach this study has attempted to avoid
over-treating the civil-military distinction as if it were a dichotomy with each
alternative simply homogeneous, as the studies concentrating at the
national level appear to have tended to see, as noted in Chapter One.
Rather, this study has tried to explore the heterogeneity of the forms of
government, for example, in personal political views, interests or
preferences of their actors – as well as at different levels of institutional
hierarchies – because of different backgrounds and personal or
environmental circumstances. Highlighting the heterogeneous outlooks of
both military and civilian institutions and actors would complement a fuller
understanding of the complexity of problems facing efforts of solving civilmilitary tensions.
1.2. A local case study
Furthermore, to be able to portray a potential complexity rather than a
presumed simplicity of military politics, this study took a case study
approach where unique features of the case are made available to be
scrutinized. In this study the Indonesian Province of East Java was
selected as the case study site. This focus on uniqueness is not, however,
103
to say that the outcome of the study in East Java would be useless for
answering other questions emerging in comparable case studies of
different locations. Instead, the uniqueness of the result of the East Java
study could increase awareness in setting up different case studies
conducted at different locations of Indonesia to provide for testing
generalizations from the findings from this study. Local military situations
within and outside Java may be different, for example, in the ways the
military interact with local civilians who use different traditional languages
and cultures. For example, Javanese-origin military personnel may have
faced anti-Javanese sentiments from local civilians outside Java during
the 1998/1999 riots180, a feeling which may not be found in those serving
in Java. Given the possibilities of such differences, the perceptions or
feelings of attachment between people acting in military and civilian
positions might need to be analyzed in different ways, in order to
understand how relative changes of their political circumstances affected
their social interactions. Nevertheless, those differences should not ignore
the commonness they have, for example, from institutional doctrines or
values that may encourage them to react similarly to, or be affected in
similar ways by, the changes to some degree.
However, in addition, the choice of this case study approach is not
because there can yet be any generalization based on an existing pool of
many different Indonesian local case studies. In fact, there have been only
very rare local case studies of military politics in Indonesia and these are
small and anecdotal. As noted, generalizations about features of local
military politics have appeared to be made based on studies that mainly
focused their investigations at national level with an assumption that their
findings can be simply projected downwards to the local.
1.3. A semi-grounded or snowball method of data collection
180
As they did in the 1949-50 establishment of the unitary state and the 1956-7 PRRI and Permesta rebellions in
Sumatra and Sulawesi.See Chapter Three.
104
The fact that local case study of military politics is rare also posed another
problem, specifically, to make the study well-planned from the early
process of the research, as there was no sufficient ready-to-use model of
local military study so far. The ways the data collected, as will be
explained later, relied to a significant extent on a “snowball” method – that
what happened or was collected on one day in the field determined what
to gather over subsequent days, and the respondents chosen to be
interviewed was influenced by the issues emerging from the previous
interviews.181 The theoretical discussion in Chapter Two helped provide
general insights about military politics and shape an analytical framework
for this study, but the exact respondents could only be decided in the field
work, following the day-to-day process of data collection. On the other
hand, there were some minor additions to the discussion in the theoretical
chapter itself, mainly after the field study had been completed and further
insights gained as its data was analyzed.
So, this study was not intended in the first place to be “theory testing”, in
the sense that there had not been clear theoretical assumptions to be
tested from the earlier process, yet some findings of the research may
have theoretical implications, as pointed out in the final chapter. With its
limited time and resources neither was this study thought to be sufficient to
generate any kind of genuinely new theory from fully grounded data as
suggested by a “grounded theory building” mechanism, although again,
some of its data and interpretations may be used by other researchers for
such a purpose.182 In such a case, the theoretical framework provided in
Chapter Two has to be seen more as one to which the findings of the
study could contribute to than one that mainly shaped the study in the first
place.
181
See Coleman, J.S. (1958): Relational analysis: The study of social organizations with survey
methods.
182
According to Layder, however, not all research falls neatly into one category [theory testing] or the other [theory
building], as at different stages and degrees each involves the other process. See Layder, Op. cit, p. 5.
105
However, instead of being contradictory to the choice of the methods
used, the problem of newness of local military study has to be seen as
strengthening the intention to explore the heterogeneous feature of
Indonesian civil-military relations. This was because to avoid precise
planning beforehand the research methodology allowed the data collection
to be as flexible as possible, without having to be too limited by this plan.
Therefore, a triple combination of multi-strategy, local case study and
semi-grounded (or snowball) approaches was preferred to study the
complexity of problems183 in military politics that Indonesian military and
the newly-established democratic society has been facing in postSoeharto Indonesia. Nevertheless, in order to be able to measure how
heterogeneous, unique or common is the East Java case relative to other
regions of Indonesia, subsequent comparative study will also be needed.
The resources of this study could not be extended to fulfill this, yet
provides a detailed picture of the East Java case over the specified period
as a base for such a possible comparison in any future research.
2. The selection of the research site
The general aim of the research that guided this study was to understand
the changes in military politics at the local level during the last five years
(1998 to 2003). Initially, to get to such a local level, two local regions of
studies were selected, the East Java and Riau Provinces, which were to
represent Java and non-Java cases,184 with two or three Districts then to
be selected from each Province. However, after around three months of
the field study activities in East Java, I found that there would be much
potentially important data from the other thirty five Districts of the East
Java Province that seemed to me to be too important not to collect.
Furthermore, collecting the data only from such a limited number of the
183
See Chapter I, Section 2 for the research problems and questions.
The choice of Riau for the intended comparison rather than West Java or other non-Java provinces was
based on several considerations. Two of these were: Current demands for decentralization in Riau were stronger
than in East Java which continues to be generally seen as part of the core of Indonesia , thus politically Riau
appeared less stable than East Java; Whereas Riau was an economically resource-rich area, East Java was not.
It was predicted that these and other different conditions might offer different insights into civil-military economic
interactions in Indonesia. The choice was also based on practical considerations and that I was personally more
familiar with those two provinces than with others.
184
106
thirty eight Districts of East Java would lead me, as I had come to believe
by then, to be likely to overlook many of the real features of military
politics in the Province. In fact, then I found that I would have been much
less able to portray the complexity of military politics in East Java had I
stuck to the initial plan. Therefore, I broadened the research activities to
include all thirty eight Districts of East Java for the whole twelve-month
field study, at the expense of losing the initially intended comparison with
Riau - nevertheless by then I had decided that the data from the initially
planned limited number of Districts would be also too inadequate to validly
represent Riau.
Studying East Java as a case offered two sets of methodological benefits.
Firstly, as the Province possesses a large number of military units185 –
that could affect, or be affected by, the changes in the local military politics
– it provided a range of alternatives of units from which to gather data. In
addition, for the same reason186, their institutional or individual behaviours
at the grassroots level were more observable by the local communities, so
asking local people also provided possible alternative ways of gathering
useful data.. Secondly, as the Province has a large number of Districts
(thirty eight), the largest number of all Indonesia’s provinces, consequently
it had a large number of District Head Elections in each year of the five
years of the research’s time frame. Therefore, under a single value of the
variable of KODAM leadership, as it continued to be under the same
KODAM leaderships and control187, it was possible to observe the trends
of
military
behaviours
that
continually
185
See Chapter III, Sub-section 4.1.
In less populous Provinces where there are also relatively few units, there can be more geographic separation
and less likelihood of everyday observation by neighbouring civilians.
187
As compared with a comparison of District Elections occurring across a military area with command split
between more than one KODAM, thus involving more than one value of the KODAM variable.
186
107
Map IV.1: Map of East Java
Source: http://www.eastjava.com/map/ejpetab.jpg
Note: For reasons of confidentiality the District names used in the text have been changed and not put on this map instead of the
real names. (Section 4 describes this confidentiality issue).
emerged from these local elections. Military political activities at the local
level were not limited to the election cases, but these events were
important political struggles where the local military’s roles were very
important to the analysis of any changes in the civil-military relation.
3. Data sources and collection
This study used three main sources of data: Official documents, interviews
and direct observations. It also drew on a wide variety of secondary data,
all of which could be organized according to the three main goals stated in
the beginning of this chapter: About the military; about the local politics,
and about the local military politics. These types of data will be detailed
later.
In each District I stayed around three to six days on my first visit before
moving on to the next one. On some occasions I revisited a District for
another one or two days for clarifications or additional data collection.
Close distances, ranging from half an hour to two hours between District
Capitals,188 made these returns relatively easy. During the one full-year
field study I managed to visit thirty six of the thirty eight districts of East
Java,189 collected many useful official documents, interviewed around one
hundred and forty respondents and observed directly face-to-face
interactions between the military and civilians at the local institutional or
society level. This is not to say, however, that there were no obstacles; for
example, there were several occasions where suspicions from the
respondents did hinder the effectiveness of interviews.
188
My research base was in Malang City, around eighty kilometres from the Provincial Capital, Surabaya (see
Map IV.1)
189
Two Districts were not visited, Bondowoso and Jombang, because of limitation of time, so the data about
these two Districts was gathered from the mass media, but this does not have a significant effect on the analysis
stage of the study as the other thirty six Districts already provide a sufficient data and the evidence gained did not
indicate any relevant important peculiarities of these two.
77
3.1. The pattern of data collection
The patterns of the activities of the data collection varied from day to day,
but in most Districts I found it more convenient to start developing the
“snowball” from its local legislative office (Kantor DPRD), then continued
to the military unit headquarters or to the government offices, and finished
with non-government organizations, activists, or local people. There are
several reasons for doing it in this order, which I realised after
experiencing the data collection activities for around two months.
Firstly, DPRD offices were almost always a more friendly environment and
more welcoming than were military units or government offices which had
much stricter visit procedures in terms of which sites, which officials, and
in what times to visit. So, as well as the friendly environment, the provision
of time for the researcher was more flexible. Secondly, DPRD offices
offered a variety of good choices to start with collecting data at any point
of time during the office hours as there were always some members of the
DPRD ready to talk about different types of issues, and issues about
military politics or democratization were of great interest to them. Thirdly,
there were always many new types of relevant issues emerging from
these conversations that were very useful as a guide to the next
interviews at the military units, government offices or other further
sources.
3.2. Collecting documents at the DPRD
In most cases, however, my activities did not start with interviewing the
DPRD members. Instead, firstly in the morning I went to visit the Secretary
of the DPRD who then directed me to the relevant staff members dealing
with Risalah Rapat (DPRD Meeting Archives) where relevant materials for
my research could be found. From studying the documents (see the
Bibliography) I could list the potential informants from the DPRD. The
Secretaries frequently then helped contact them, or they themselves
78
became my respondents. Those very helpful DPRD Secretaries
understood well my position as a researcher which I had explained
beforehand, either through initial corresponding letters, phone calls or in
some cases only from my prepared introduction letters brought to them by
their receptionists, as well as from my further explanation during the visits.
However, I also benefited from my position as an officer of the Indonesian
Army which they knew from copies of my official Surat Perintah
Pendidikan (Education Assignment Letter), issued by the Minister of
Defence and Army Headquarters, included in the collection of introductory
and identifying documents that I had put together with introduction letters
signed by my university research supervisors. I did feel mostly that they
respected me and helped my field work in many ways because of this
status, which otherwise they might not have done. There were at least two
occasions where the DPRD Secretaries in two Districts were not
welcoming initially until they were assured by members of the FTNI/POLRI (the appointed Army faction) in those DPRD who advised him
to ask me for my Army Identity Card, which they checked. In most cases
the Secretaries were very helpful, even providing more documents than
those I needed for my research, and introducing me to other potential
respondents who they thought would be relevant to talk to me about my
topic.
A wide range of types of data were collected from the DPRD Secretariat
Offices (see Bibliography). This included details on the identities of the
DPRD members, archived meeting reports of the DPRD (both of its
general meetings and those of its specific committees) related to various
political issues, such as reports about DPRD meetings with local military
commanders, corresponding letters from or to local military commanders,
reports about meetings with the Local Government, reports about
meetings with local people, reports about Pendapat Fraksi (Official
Statements of the DPRD Fractions) about various issues, and including
the detailed records about the Elections of District Heads which I explored
carefully to look for the role of the military. Reports about the local
79
elections were the most complete data that I gathered, ranging from the
chronological process190 to letters from various organizations or persons
responding to each stage of this process and the outcomes. Those
documents were very useful to interpret what had been really happening
during the processes of the elections.
There were also many useful documents regarding the current or recent
inter-institutional crises, mainly DPRD-Local Government tensions, such
as: the cases of impeachments in Surabaya; the DPRD refusals of
(Retired Military-led) Local Government’s Final Accountability Reports in
the Districts of Bangkalan and Pamekasan; accusations of corruption
involvements by both institutions such as in the Districts of Sampang,
Tuban or Surabaya; or regarding riots over election conflicts in Sampang.
There were many of these types of documents that I collected from the
relevant DPRD which were very useful in analysing the civil-military
relations at the local institutional level. Some bundles of additional
documents were even sent to my research base as self-initiatives of the
Secretaries of various DPRD because they thought the documents would
be useful for my research, such as the cases of the Regencies of
Sampang and Pasuruan. In Madiun, the Secretary of the DPRD instructed
a staff member by phone from Jakarta (he was on duty leave) to help me
search additional documents on my second visit. A bundle of collected
clippings about the Surabaya Mayoral Election in 2000 in which several
military officers, active or retired, had participated was also given me by
the initiative of the Secretariat of that City’s DPRD. I found that these
additional documents were extremely useful.
3.3. Interviews with DPRD members
As mentioned, most respondents to be interviewed at the various DPRD
were chosen from important issues which had emerged from the
documents collected previously at the Secretariat. In general, the
190
For details of what these involved, particularly during the New Order, see Chapter X, Section 2.
80
questions to be asked in the interviews were also similarly based on that
preparation. In most interviews, the respondents who were members of
the DPRD preferred informal discussions to formal interviews. In this
sense, the questions prepared before the interviews were used flexibly,
mainly as the starting points to get the interviewees understand why they
had been chosen as the informants. Once the interviews had started, the
questions developed and the interviewees were let talk freely, even to
explore other topics that they saw as more important than those which
were introduced at the beginning of the interviews. For example, at one
DPRD I chose the Chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI because of his important
role in determining the faction’s position in the local Regent Election, but
during the interview he revealed that he had been the Dandim during
1998 riots. In that case, the topic was developed or shifted to his
experiences during the riots; although at certain moments during the
conversations I also tried to get him respond to the questions that I had
prepared. Some interviews were carried out in groups of members of the
factions or members of the same commissions of the DPRD, but most
were in private. As people seemed uncomfortable to talk when the
conversations were being taped-recorded, I did my best in taking notes,
then revised them each evening, and talked to the respondents again if I
considered clarifications were needed.
With the help of the DPRD Secretaries and members of the F-TNI/POLRI,
who were also my respondents, I managed to interview most of the
Speakers of the DPRD of East Java’s Districts and the Chairmen or
members of the F-Golkar, F-DIP and F-KB factions in those DPRD, but I
also spent time talking with members of other smaller parties.191 Those
respondents at the DPRD offices were advantageous to my field work, not
only because of their previous experiences but also because of their
helpfulness in introducing me to other respondents outside their DPRD.
Most of the Secretaries of DPRD that I met had previously served as a
Camat (Head of Sub-district Government), for instance, and were very
191
List of respondents is provided in Appendix 1, but presented in codes to protect their identities. The coding
system is explained later in this chapter.
81
open to talk about their experiences of being a Camat during the New
Order era, and their previous relations with Sub-district military units
(Koramil). Among other ways, it was through them and from previous
information they gave that I had opportunities to talk with several Camat
and also Village Heads in their Districts.
Many F-TNI/POLRI members had served as local military commanders or
staff officers of Koter in different areas, or as Heads of Kansospol or
members of Wamsospolda or Wansospolrem192 before serving as
parliamentary military representatives. Therefore, as noted, the interview
topics were not limited to DPRD matters but usually broadened to other
matters outside the DPRD but relevant to local military politics, including
about the internal matters of the local military, the previous roles of those
Sospol bodies, or their own personal roles on them. Some of the
information they gave, and their personal contacts with local government
officials, also helped me to get to the respondents in local government
offices. Many of them were also very kind to introduce me by phone to the
local military commanders or officers, as well as to retired military officers
who they knew would be relevant informants for my topic, and to ask them
to be interviewees. On some occasions the members of F-TNI/POLRI also
gave me useful documents, such as the F-TNI/POLRI’s periodical reports
to the military Headquarters in the Province or in Jakarta, or
corresponding letters with military units within the District, for example,
proposal letters for security fund assistance that were useful to analyse
how their relations with military units changed or continued over the first
five years of post-Soeharto Indonesia.
Again, mostly they became very helpful after they knew that I was an
Army officer doing the study instructed by the Central Military
Headquarters. They understood this from the introduction letters and from
the ongoing conversations, although I always tried my best to explain my
status as a student, not as an Army officer. Probably as seen as an
192
See descriptions of Koter, Kansospol, Wansospolda and Wansospolrem in Chapter Three.
82
insider, in some offices of the F-TNI/POLRI I was treated in a very friendly
manner (sometimes too friendly), like a family member, served lunch and
snacks while having conversations in their offices about the Indonesian
military. While doing this, on many occasions staff members of the local
DPRD Secretariat helped search for and copy documents I needed as
they were asked by the Chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI to do so. Because
of the informal, loosely-planned nature of the interviews, some interviews
could last hours. For example, in Gresik, I stayed in the office of the FTNI/POLRI and talked with the faction’s Chairman for about a half day,
from the morning to mid-day. In such a long time of interview I could ask
about and gain a wide range of information, from personal experiences of
the respondent, such as being a former personnel staff in the KODAM and
now serving as the Chairman of the military representation in the District’s
DPRD, and explore the respondent’s feelings about the changes which
had occurred and were continuing to occur to military politics, as well as
how he portrayed other officers’ feelings and behaviours as affected by
the changes.
Similarly, respondents from the non-military fractions were very helpful
and useful sources of data. In Bojonegoro District, for example, a member
of the F-DIP, who was also the Speaker of the DPRD, provided almost
one full working day of his time for talking with me. The interview stopped
when he asked me to accompany him for lunch in a restaurant in the city,
but after that we came back to the office again to continue the discussion.
When I asked him why he treated me in such a friendly way, he said that it
was because he was amazed by my willingness to try hard to study, unlike
other officers he knew who favoured seeking for jobs instead; besides, he
said, he was also interested in my topic and discussing it with me. He told
me, “I hope more and more military officers like to understand democracy,
as you do.”
83
He talked about a wide variety of issues in military and local politics,
ranging from his experience as a PDI193 activist during the New Order in
the early 1990s, such as being chased by military intelligence agents
because of his involvement in some demonstrations at one end; to his
broad knowledge and experiences from being the Speaker of the DPRD
since the post-Soeharto era and how he explained his relations with the
military since then. This kind of personal view and experience was very
important to understand the position of the PDIP in relation to the military
as well to the broader democratic politics from its members’ perspective.
Not only did I obtain lots of information from what he mentioned, but I also
had the opportunity to observe, for example, some ways of how he
interacted with his constituents when two of them met him and asked him
for money because of having helped him in organizing some
demonstrators against his opponents within his Party of the District.194
Interviews with other F-DIP members of other Districts differed, but these
respondents were more or less just as helpful and open in giving
information as in Bojonegoro. As in the case of F-TNI/POLRI members,
those respondents from the F-DIP also gave me the ways to get to
PDIP195 respondents outside the DPRD, such as the Party’s officials and
constituents in the District.
Also, respondents from F-Golkar, F-KB196 or other fractions were just as
enthusiastic as those mentioned above in helping to provide useful data.
Unlike most F-DIP respondents who liked to recall past disharmonious
relations with the military, most F-Golkar respondents tended to
romanticize a past Golkar-military “honeymoon”. For instance, one Golkar
respondent in Batu City, who has been a member of the DPRD from
Golkar for twenty years, gave much information not only about Golkar in
193
The Indonesian Democratic Party was the predecessor of the PDIP, the Indonesian Democratic Party of
Struggle, which was set up to replace it after the machinations leading to the expulsion of the PDI’s leader
Megawati Sukarnoputri and the violent take-over of its central administration Jakarta offices organized by the New
Order in 1996. The PDI then virtually disappeared as a mass political party.
194
This PDIP internal conflict is discussed in Chapter Eleven.
195
The F-DIP (Fraksi -…) is the faction of members of a DPRD belonging to the PDIP (Partai …).
196
Fraksi-Kebangkitan Bangsa, the parliamentary representation of the PKB, Partai Kebangkitan Bangsa,
People’s Awakening Party. The PKB, set up post-1998, is based in the mass Islamic movement, Nahdatul Islam,
and is particularly strong in East Java. (See later chapters for more information).
84
the past and now, but also about the military as he used to work closely
with military officers. Based on his experience, he could give comparisons
between, for example, how different was the position of Golkar now
against other fractions without military supports compared to the past with
its military back-ups. Unlike F-DIP members, most of the respondents of
F-Golkar I interviewed were long-service legislators, so they had many
years of information about the military. In the case of F-KB respondents,
the usefulness of their information, like that of the F-DIP representatives,
was because of their different perspective about the local military and
local democracy, that I discuss more fully elsewhere in this thesis. For an
example, because of disappointment with the result of the Tuban Regent
Election in 2001, where the F-Golkar had affiliated with the F-TNI/POLRI
and some dissident F-DIP members and thereby won the election, one
respondent from the F-KB in the Tuban DPRD revealed various corrupt
features of the local politics dominated by such an affiliation. So, there
was much important information, including about local military politics, that
could be gained from the interviews with DPRD members from the various
factions. On one hand, different versions of descriptions about the same
issue emerged from them; on the other hand, they also raised different
issues about local military politics that concerned them most. This
provided valuable data that sometimes could be put to local members of
the military, as explained below.
3.4. Collecting data from military units
As noted earlier, collecting data from military units were not as easy as in
the DPRD, even though it was being done by an Army officer like me. For
researchers who have had experience in trying to collect data from military
units, this is not new. Most official documents in the military are classified
as “secret”, so could not be revealed to the public. To interview a District
Commander or lower ranks would-be researchers have to get written
permissions from the superiors, and this process could take months
before the interviews take place. When the interviews do occur, the
85
person being interviewed does not answer much, apart from stating a
“formal institutional statement” that could be found more easily in public
media. So, if a researcher is to follow formal procedure, he or she could
end up wasting time in waiting for information that may or may not be
useful enough in the end.
In my research I did not use formal procedures, simply because I knew
that they would not work. Instead, I went to visit the respondents197 as a
friend at the same rank, a junior officer or a senior officer, just like
common visits among officers in the military. Yet, I always managed to
explain to them at some early stage of the conversation that certain
information would be used for my thesis, and assured them that their
information would not harm them, their units, or the military in general.
They did not mind that I would use their information. Again, my position as
an insider was advantageous. Firstly, I knew very well which data,
according to the Indonesian military, are allowed or not allowed to be
made available to the public, and I knew where to find those allowable
data without having to follow long procedures. Secondly, with my twelveyear service in an Army Battalion as Platoon Commander, Company
Commander, and Staff Officer of the Battalion, I am familiar with most
problems faced by military units, so the ways of asking questions were
much more as sharing experiences than asking new information. This
made my military respondents more comfortable to talk more openly.
For example, when I asked someone about what the situation was like
during the 1998/1999 riots around his units, where he was and what he
was doing, how he felt, and what happened to other personnel he knew,
he already knew that I shared some of his experiences and feelings. So,
when he answered he would not just give “formal institutional statements”
or the like. Similar situations applied for questions about the standards of
military professionalism of the soldiers, or their common behaviours, for
197
Mostly, these military personnel had jobs that were important to military politics, such as the Commanders of
Staff of the Koter, as well as some sergeants and privates in positions of Babinsa. Explanations about these
positions were given in Chapter Three.
86
example. However, one of the most important things I found being an
insider at the same time as researcher was that the respondents were
confident enough to express their feelings because they knew that their
expressions would make sense to me. For example, when I asked about
their reactions about the demands from some elements of society to
abolish Koter, or about the accusations of involvements of military
elements in some communal conflicts or in crimes, they responded openly
and fairly, arguing or confirming, as I discuss elsewhere in this thesis.
As noted, the data about the military were not only collected from the local
military units, but also, because of its focus on military politics, mostly from
the members of the F-TNI/POLRI of each District, and from former military
officers who had no military procedures to limit their speaking. Additional
information about the military was also gathered from civilians who knew
information about the military because of their work or life activities
involved having close contacts with the military, for example, government
officials (especially former staff members of Kansospol at District
Government offices), local police, politicians (especially Golkar members
who used to work closely with the military during the New Order), nongovernment organizations’ activists, journalists or scholars in relevant
areas. So, although within the military units collecting data was more
difficult, useful data about military politics was also available outside the
units.
87
3.5. Collecting data at the local government offices
Although not as strict as in military units, collecting data from the
bureaucratic officials in the Local Government offices (Pemda) was also
more difficult than from the members and staff of the DPRD. Some
respondents were contacted initially by letter or phone on the basis of their
connections to certain issues found and studied from the information
already gathered at the DPRD. Many of them were referred by DPRD
respondents. There were also several officials who were available to be
the respondents without prior arrangements. The respondents from the
many Pemda include their Heads (Mayors or Regents) of the Pemda,
Secretaries
of
Pemda,
Heads
or
staff
of
Bakesbang
(former
Kansospol)198, and Sub-district Heads (Camat), or Village Heads.
However, because of limited time and resources, as well as the degree of
relevance of the data, although at the District level I visited all DPRD
offices, only around a half of all 38 District Local Government
bureaucracies were visited and interviews carried out. At the two lowest
levels of government administration only several selected local Camat and
Village Heads were interviewed, all in the Regencies of Malang (my
research base), Pasuruan, Blitar and Jember.
Nevertheless, as in the case of the military, the data about the local
government political affairs, especially their military connections, was also
collected from the DPRD respondents and other sources, rather than
relying solely on the government officials themselves. However, I did
collect some specific information that was only available at the various
Pemda, for example, about security assistance funds that they gave to the
local military, the reactions from bureaucrats about changing working
environments, such as from “military style” to new civilian styles of
leaderships, or about new relations between the local government and
local military units in the post-New Order era.
198
The Bakesbang and Kansospol are discussed in Chapter Six, the latter also in Chapter Three.
88
3.6. Other sources of data
Apart from those mentioned above, there are also two other types of data
sources that this study used. One was local media publications, such as
East Java’s major newspaper Jawa Pos, that has branches in several
Districts with each branch publishing local content. These media were
used to complement information gathered from official documents and
interviews, as well as to understand how certain issues, like local
elections, were reported. Another was interviews and discussions with
local NGO activists and journalists. Many of my contacts with these groups
were made during a three-week Autonomy Awards assessment around
March 2003 in various Districts initiated by the Jawapos, for which I was
asked to join the assessment team. There were also many of them who
were easy to find at or through the DPRD or Pemda offices and ready to
discuss issues related to the topic of my research. The data from them
and their perspectives were used for comparison against the data
collected from official documents and other interviews, so that a more
balanced range of views could be collected and assessed.
3.7. Observation
During my trips to different districts of East Java I also tried to observe as
much as I could of face-to-face interactions between the military and
civilians in different settings, including formal governmental meetings and
informal grassroots level activities. Several times I attended DPRD
meetings (when open to the public) where various local leaders, including
local military commanders and members of the F-TNI/POLRI, also
participated in the meetings. I observed carefully attitudes of both civilian
and military “sides”, for example, if there were indications or expressions
of any sense of equality, dominance, superiority, subordinacy or solidarity
within a group, or conflicting attitudes which may be influential behind the
scenes but may not be found in the formal interviews or documents, and
tried to understand what this meant to the degree of military political
89
influence and to the balance of power between military and civilian as
reflected at these micro-levels of interaction.
On some occasions, the observations were accidental in nature. For
example, once when I was interviewing the Secretary of the Sampang
DPRD, two sergeants who identified themselves as personnel of the SubDenpom (Military Police Sub-Detachment) of Sampang came into the
Secretary’s office after having refused to wait in the queue in the
receptionist office although they knew that the Secretary had a guest
(me). Once in the office they asked for donations for the anniversary
celebration of their unit. What this meant I interpret in Chapter Ten;
however, it was valuable information from a non-planned observation. In
another example, while I was staying in a hotel during my research visit to
Ponorogo Regency in July 2003, I witnessed a local military sergeant who
claimed himself to be an intelligence agent checking the list of the hotel’s
guests. When I asked about this I was told by the staff of the hotel that he
came to do this almost every night. I then talked to the hotel owner who
revealed some more information. These kinds of observations were very
useful in understanding the complex ways of the local civil-military social
interactions.
4. Issues of confidentiality
Military politics is a very sensitive issue in Indonesia. Since the collapse of
the New Order civil-military relations have been dominated mainly by
suspicion about the political intentions of either side. With the help of a
new unlimited nature of the media, each side is inclined to exploit political
issues into serious accusations in favour of one side, but for disfavour of
the other. Therefore, this research has tried to make maximum efforts to
protect both the sources and the actors involved in the data being
presented. In most of the references, the interview respondents were
coded with characters and numbers. All military/police respondents are
coded with M (e.g. Interview M1, M2, M3); respondents who were
90
government bureaucrats with B (e.g. Interview B4, B5, B6); respondents
from the PDIP party or a F-DIP fraction (of local parliament/DPRD) with D
(e.g. Interview D7, D8, D9); respondents from the PKB party or a F-KB
fraction with K (e.g. Interview K10, K11, K12); respondents from the PAN
party or a F-AN fraction with A (e.g. Interview A13, A14, A15);
respondents from Golkar party or a F-Golkar (or, previously, F-KP) fraction
with G (e.g. Interview G16, G17, G18); respondents from the PPP party or
a F-PP fraction with P (e.g. Interview P19, P20, P21); respondents from a
NGO with N (e.g. Interview N19, N20, N21); respondents who were Village
Heads with V (e.g. Interview V13, V14, V15); respondents from villagers or
ordinary people with pseudonym names.199
In addition, many of the actors and the Districts were given false names,
except when the actors’ names had been already revealed by public
media, or when the respondents or actors wanted their names to be
revealed. Coding the names of the Districts is important because in many
cases, the coded actors and respondents’ names would be easy to identify
through their reported positions in a named District. For example, if a
respondent or actor is the Chairman of F-TNI/POLRI, which position would
be important to be mentioned, his real name could be simply traced by
knowing the District. However, a careful selection of what should be coded
or renamed, and in what ways has also been made to ensure that data
presented is understandable and has not lost its essential substance. As a
serving army officer with professional obligations to the Indonesian military
institution and to my senior officers, I am fully aware of possible
implications for the issue of continuing confidentiality, therefore, all
respondents and actors appear in the thesis, and all notes and any other
potentially confidential material that have been collected have been, and
will be, continually treated as confidential, not available to any party
without my prior written consent.
199
More information about the composition of the interviewees is provided in Appendix 3.
91
Chapter Five
“REFORMASI” AND IMPACTS ON MILITARY-SOCIETY RELATIONS
The two central desiderata – protection by the military and
protection from the military – are in tension because efforts to
assure the one complicate efforts to assure the other.200
1. Introduction
As noted in Chapter Three, although the primary source of military political
power comes from its coercive capability, to sustain the power the military
needs a sufficient level of public “acceptance” or “legitimacy” without which
disengagement becomes inevitable.201 William Liddle suggested that the
legitimacy that sustained the long-standing stability of the New Order
regime
was
of
three
types:
economic
“performance”;
“popular
bureaucrats”; and “coercive legitimacy”.202 Despite some resistances and
frictions that eventually surfaced into uncontainable movements around
the collapse of the regime in May 1998, to a large extent it had been
successful in maintaining its Law and Order, imposing an obedience of the
people towards the regime.
This chapter examines the situation in East Java around 1998-1999 – after
which a broad scale of military withdrawal from politics took place – which
showed how this legitimacy quickly diminished. It shows how the
worsening of the state’s economic conditions had eroded its “performance
legitimacy”, and further quickly set up the state’s power elements
(bureaucrats, Golkar and the military) as the reformist groups’ common
enemy. They, especially the military, were widely and openly criticized and
demoralized, and unlike in the New Order, the public effectively prevented
the military from using its coercive capability, even when law and order
200
Feaver, Peter D., “Civil-Military Relations1”, Annual Review of Political Science, June 1999, Vol. 2, pp. 211241.
201
See Chapter Three., sub-section 3.3.7.
202
See Chapter Three, footnote 81.
92
appeared about to collapse. This situation as a demoralizing force
represented the grassroots’ drives for a military reform agenda. Based on
that examination, this chapter argues that events around the fall of
Suharto and during the immediately subsequent years in East Java
demonstrated that the military–society relations entered a period where
the public acceptance and tolerance of the military had seriously
deteriorated. This made it possible for an emergence of a new pattern in
these relations where the military position was significantly declining, and
could no longer maintain its long-standing control over the community,
either in security or political terms.
The following section has four sub-sections that present four important
cases illustrating the loss of legitimacy of the New Order and a sudden
collapse of law and order. What all these four cases meant to the societymilitary relations is then discussed in the second section that links them to
the ways they demoralized the military, and the ways they were also
worsened by this de-legitimization. There is then third section which
presents a case that exemplifies the emergence of grassroots-based
democracy, and this is followed by a final, summarizing, section.
2. The New Order’s Vanished Legitimacy
2.1. Economic collapse, demonstrations, attacks on the Chinese
community
An article in the July 22, 1998 issue of the Washington Post reported that
“Indonesia is near chaos”. The rapidly deteriorating financial situation, with
the currency having plunged to more than 13,000 rupiah203 to the US
dollar compared to 9,500 when President Suharto was replaced by B.J.
Habibie two months earlier, made the situation worse. Some 20 million
Indonesians became unemployed in 1998, inflation reached 100 percent,
and by the end of the year at least half the population sank below the
203
It had fallen as far as 16,600 to the US dollar by June 16. See the exchange rates of Rupiah from July 1997 to
June 1998 in “Rupiah Makin Terpuruk”, Kompas 16 June 1998.
93
poverty line. The fall of the rupiah's value against foreign currencies had
driven up the prices of such basic foods as rice and cooking oil which were
imported, and eroded “purchasing power”. The article described “a food
problem” that was caused by “sky-high prices of basic goods”, with the
disruption of the country's food distribution system which had broken down
in some places entirely because of an exodus of the Chinese merchants.
Rice mills were attacked, shrimp ponds were looted and golf courses were
occupied to plant crops in the rough by “angry, increasingly hungry, and
no longer in fear of the authorities, people across the country.”204
The above report was certainly true for East Java.205 The student
demonstrations decreased significantly for a few days after President
Suharto resigned, despite some smaller scale demonstrations that
accused Habibie of replacing Soeharto as a continuation of the previous
regime and demanded its abolition.206 Entering June, however, the strike
actions again increased, but the protests were now largely directed at local
targets, yet the driving forces behind the demonstrations were similar; the
economic suffering and resistance to the existing authority.207 For
example, on 5 June 1998 around ten thousand workers held a strike in
Surabaya demanding an increase in wages because their current wages
was too small to meet the sky-rocketing prices of daily needs.208 On June
15 in Tuban Regency a mass of thousands organized by the Rengel
People Demands (Rakyat Rengel Menggugat) held a demonstration
demanding the accountability of the Sub-district Head (Camat), Moch Nur
Rahman, who, in their words, “had deprived people” (merugikan rakyat).
The angry mobs ransacked his office.209 According to one of my military
204
See also “Ratusan Petani Tanami Lapangan Golf Cimacan”, Kompas 15 June 1998.
For a similar report about other parts of Indonesia see for example, Chapter V: “Pembangkangan,
Kerusuahan dan Kekerasan”, in Eko, Ibid. pp. 303-306.
206
The biggest demonstration in Surabaya occurred on 19-20 May 1998, when around 50,000 protestors,
students from various universities of Surabaya gathered in STIESA campus, Surabaya, and others of tens of
thousands in other cities of East Java, such as Malang, Pasuruan, Ponorogo, Jember, Madiun, Mojokerto,
Pasuruan, Gresik, and Sidoardjo. After May 20, no demonstration achieved these numbers. See the collective
work in Aksi Mahasiswa: Reformasi Total (Jakarta: Yayasan Mentari Nusantara, 1998). See also Zon, Fadli.,
Politik Huru-hara Mei 1998, (Jakarta: Institute for Policy Studies, 2004) especially Appendix: “Rekapitulasi
Gerakan Mahasiswa 23 Februari – 1 Mei 1999,” pp. 153 – 157; and Fadhly, Fahruz Zaman (ed.), Mahasiswa
Menggugat (Bandung: Pustaka Hidayah, 1999).
207
See for example, “Reformasi di Daerah Mengarah Isu Lokal”, Kompas 1 June 1998.
208
See “10000 Buruh Maspion Mogok”, Kompas 6 June 1998.
209
Jawapos, 16 June 1998.
205
94
respondents from the local Military Sub-district Command (KORAMIL) HQ,
which was next to the Camat’s office, they could not do anything to
prevent the riots as their numbers was too big, and the mobs even
threatened to attack the Headquarter, but left after the soldiers threatened
to shoot them.210 The next day several groups of youth organizations and
religious leaders held a demonstration in front of the local Assembly and
Local Government offices in Situbondo, another town in East Java. They
demanded the resignation of several officials, including the Regent,
Colonel (Ret) Sudaryanto who was accused of involvement in fifty cases
of corruption, collusion, and nepotism (KKN) practices.211 Similar large
demonstrations were held during the week of June 14 to 20 by workers
from Surabaya’s main port, Tanjung Perak, some of them marching to the
City Parliament demanding higher pay.212
By the end of June the angry mobs began attacks on shops and homes
owned by ethnic Chinese. In the provincial capital Surabaya, fears of
violence had made many ethnic Chinese flee, leaving from the local airport
with some reportedly flying to Hong Kong and others to Singapore. There
was no exact number of the Chinese who left from Surabaya, but a
respondent who was at that time working in the Immigration Office
proposed a number of 5000 to 7000 during the month from the 30,000
Chinese in Surabaya city.213 Those who could not flee for their lives after
looting in the East Java started arming themselves with machine guns for
protection.”214 In the district of Jember, especially in the Sub-districts of
Mumbulsari, Silo and Kencong, about 150 km southeast of Surabaya, the
mobs did not attack only the Chinese, but also shops and houses that
were accused of “protecting the Chinese”.215
210
Interview M73.
Interviews M48 and M49.
212
See Straits Times, June 19, 1998. See also “Pelabuhan Tanjung Perak Lumpuh: 7000 Karyawan Texmaco
Unjuk Rasa” (Tanjung Perak Port Collapse: 7000 Texmaco Staff Strike), Kompas 18 June 1998.
213
Interview on 18 June 2003 with Hadi Sumarno, an Immigrant officer of Surabaya. See also “Budaya Arek
Kurangi Konflik Antar Etnis’ (Arek Culture Reduces Ethnic Conflicts), Kompas 19 June 1998, Jawapos, June 15,
1998.
214
See Washington Post - July 22, 1998.
215
Interview B47.
211
95
This issue is important to understand because the Chinese community
best represented one of the beneficiary groups in the New Order
economic development system. Since they have been a vulnerable target
in many social riots, they usually used security protections provided by
military members. In 1973, they were attacked by the mobs in Bandung
riots, in 1983 in the Jakarta Tanjung Priok riots, and in the May 1998 riots
of Jakarta.216 According to some of my Chinese respondents in Malang, in
the New Order era they had usually maintained good relations with two or
more military personnel.217 As one respondent said, “We only need to pick
up the phone when there was a security obstruction, and they would
come”. “If the obstruction came from “oknum” (rough) “military men or
policemen we sometimes only needed to mention some military
commanders’ names that we know, then the problem was gone.”218 This
kind of protection disappeared in 1998. While in the cities the public anger
was expressed through the mob attacks on the Chinese, out of the cities
there were “reclaimings” on land and forests by the villagers.
2.2. “Land reclaiming” by villagers
According to Dianto Bachriadi, East Java has had a quite high record on
the land conflicts, from almost two thousand land conflict cases, covering
more than ten million hectares throughout Indonesia, almost two hundred
cases were in the East Java Province which made it the third biggest after
West and Central Java.219 “Land reclaiming” means that the villagers reoccupied and used the land without the consent of the owners and
sometimes the action was followed by a demonstration, demanding the
issuing of certificates in their names of these reclaimed lands. On July 29,
for example, around three thousand people of Lidah Kulon Village,
216
See for example, Kingsbury, Damien., The Politics of Indonesia (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003),
pp. 9-10, 90, 188, 235; Emerson, Donald K., Indonesia Beyond Suharto: Polity, Economy, Society, Transition.
(New York: An East Gate Book, 1999), especially chapter 6, “Economy”.
217
Interviews C116, C121, C.135.
218
The respondent was owner of a real estate company in Malang. Interview C115.
219
In 2001 KPA Resource Centers recorded a total figure of 1920 cases; in 2004 it decreased to
1753 cases. In East Java the figure decreased from 172 cases in 2001 to 169 in 2004. This made it
the third biggest after West Java’s 484 cases and DKI Jakarta’s 175 cases. The 2001 figures were
presented in Bachriadi, Dianto., Konflik Agraria di Indonesia sejak Massa Orde Baru, a paper
presented at the KPA Seminar in Bandung 20-23 August 2001. For the 2004 figures, see Pikiran
Rakyat, 11 April 2004.
96
Surabaya, held demonstrations in front of the Local Attorney-General’s
Office, demanding recognition of ownership of a golf course that they had
just re-planted with crops.220 Most of the cases involved government
institutions or government-backed private companies on one side against
the ordinary people, villagers, on another.221
What important for the purpose of this study is about seeing how
restrained the military dealt with the villagers involved in the conflicts in
post 1998. At least twenty-three cases covering over 15,000 hectares in
East Java were between the military and the villagers.222 Until 1998,
unresolved conflicts were “calmed” by using the government’s coercive
means, but resentments had developed subtly and covertly.223 After June
1998, the villagers found the reformasi momentums to reclaim those
lands, occupied and planted them with rice paddies, logging the forest
trees for their own needs without being in fear of the dangers as they
would have had in the past.224
The involvements of the military in land conflicts were categorized into
three types: as the direct owner of the lands; the associate owner of
state/private companies owning the lands; or as third parties helping
resolve the conflicts.225 One of the biggest cases in the first category was
in the Purbaya area covering the three Sub-districts of Pagak, Bantur and
Gedangan in the Southern Malang Regency.226 Other big cases were in
Raci, Pasuruan Regency, over two thousands hectares between TNI-AU
(Air Force Units) and the villagers, and in Grati, Pasuruan Regency, over
eight thousands hectares between TNI-AL (Naval Units) and the villagers.
220
Jawapos 30 July 1998.
Bachriadi, Ibid.
For a more detailed list of land conflicts, see also the data base of the Departemen Kehutanan/ Forest
Department at: http://www.dephut.go.id/intranet/PKEBUN/DATABASE/Pb-cenk.pdf.
223
See Chapter Three.
224
According to Herlambang Perdana, the Chief of the Farmers’ Division of LBH (Lembaga Bantuan Hukum,
Legal Advocate Association) Surabaya, from 1998 to 2002 there had been 52 new reclaiming cases by villagers
among 1000 cases for Indonesia as a whole. See Kompas, 19 November 2002.
225
This categorization was based on the data of the DPRD (Local Parliament) of Malang Regency. Apart from
the three categories, there were also disputes between the military institutions and their ex-military families, but
these cases were smaller in number. One example of them was between the Army’s KODAM V Brawijaya over
land on Rajawali Street No. 57 Krembangan and retired military families. Surya, 07-08-2003.
226
Table of Description of Land Conflicts in Malang Regency (Inventarisasi Permasalahan Tanah di Kabupaten
Malang), as Appendix C-1 of the 2002’s End-of-Year Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of Malang.
221
222
97
In June 1998 for example the villagers occupied and planted the lands of
4811 hectares which used to be part of the Marine’s Puslatpur (Marines’
Fighting Training Centre) in Bantur area. They not only planted the land,
but also built tents and houses there, and refused to move to anywhere
else with compensations offered by the military. “We would rather die here
if they [the military] force us to move”. By 2004 this case had still not been
resolved; it even “returned to zero” as both sides moved backwards to
their original positions and cancelled some compromises made in the
previous two years.227 In another case in Singosari, Malang Regency,
there was a land dispute between Dengkol villagers and the Lanud
Abdurrahman Saleh Air Force base over three hundred hectares, a part of
the Air Force base area.228 A similar case was between farmers of
Harjokuncaran village, Malang Regency and the Army’s Puskopad (Pusat
Koperasi Angkatan Darat/ Local Army’s Business Centre) of KODAM V
Brawijaya over the 666 hectare Tlogorejo Plantation. According to Colonel
H Jasmin Seno, the Head of the Puskopad, it belonged to the Army, while
according to Muhammad Yasin, the villagers’ representative, among those
who had built houses and planted the land with food crops, the land had
been distributed to their parents by the Japanese occupation troops in the
1940s. Having occupied the land, on May 15 2000, the villagers
demonstrated in front of the DPRD, demanding the return of the land to
them.229
In the second category, the military was usually involved in the State
Plantation Companies, PTPN. In some cases the military was also
227
See Kompas 31/8/2004, or Surya, 10/9/2004. The quoted phrase was re-stated by a respondent who was a
local government official dealing with the case. Interview B114.
228
The Air Force claimed the land based on a document letter of the Air Force Chief of Staff (SK
No. 023/P/KSAP/50, dated 25 May 1950 and Surat Keputusan/Decision Letter (SK) of East Java
BPN No. 132/530.3/35/1990 that gave right to Lanud Abd Saleh to use the land. The villagers, on
the other hand, claimed that their families had owned the land based on a document issued in
1936. Up to 2004, since the villagers re-claimed the land in 1998, there has been no solution
agreeable to both sides. See “Tanah Lanud Disoal: Pemkab Tak Mau Cawe-Cawe”, Radar Malang,
27 Sept 2004.
229
The Army’s claim was based on the Letter of Menteri Pertanian/Agriculture Minister (SK No.
263/Kpts/UM/6/1973, dated 2 June 1973, stating that the Army bought the land for Rp. 66,875,000. This is said in
the Table of Description of Land Conflicts in Malang Regency (Inventarisasi Permasalahan Tanah di Kabupaten
Malang), as Appendix C-1 of the 2002’s End-of-Year Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of Malang. See
also “Warga Desa Harjokuncaran Minta Kejelasan soal Tanah”, Kompas, 25 October 2001; Tempo Interaktif, 23
February 2001; Kompas, 7 February 2003.
98
involved as a partner in a joint venture, or simply as the authority that
would legally approve the land contracts.230 In most cases, however, the
military acted as the protectors of the state’s property. One of the biggest
cases was in Kalibakar, Southern Malang Regency. On 24 August 1998,
thousands of farmers of five villages living around a two thousand hectare
cocoa plantation cut down hundreds of thousands of cocoa bushes, then
occupied the land. The villagers’ reclaim was based on the 1941 leasing
between the villagers and the Dutch investor who had planted coffee. After
the 1957 nationalization of all Dutch companies, it was run by PTPN XII,
the Twelfth State Plantation Company, which in 1965 had planted
cocoa.231 Since 1970 the villagers had wanted their lands back, but never
succeeded because of the government’s effective oppressive actions.
One example in the third category was the Karangpilang case where the
military was a third party trying to mediate the conflict. The Sub-district
Military Command (KORAMIL) 0832/06, Karangpilang, Surabaya City, was
built near Babatan Village on land whose ownership was in dispute
between the village and a real estate company, PT Bhakti Tamara.
According to the Commander of the KORAMIL, Captain Sudadyo, in 1995
there was a deal with the Village Head, Buntoroyono to sell the fourteen
hectares land to the company. The deal was formalized in the letter of the
Village Head No. 5/1995, dated 7 February 1995. However, before the
deal was approved by the Surabaya City Mayor, Buntoroyono resigned
and was replaced by Drs. Nanang Widodo because the village people
disagreed with the selling. Yet, Nanang secretly continued the deal after
the company offered that it would provide buildings for the Village Head’s
office, a health clinic for the village people and for the KORAMIL office.232
Nanang had revealed that he continued the deal because there was
230
As the Chairman of Bakorstanasda, the Pangdam V, for example, received a proposal for a
"Pola Kemitraan (Joint Venture) between the Local Government of Jember, PTP XXVII, and the
farmers of Jenggawah (Jember)". The proposal was presented by KH Imam Masyhuri and H Cholid
in Kodam V/Brawijaya, on Friday, 29-12-1996. The agreement was witnessed by KH Luthfi, Kodim
Commander 0824 Ltc. Djasmin Senos, the Head of the Social Political Office of Jember, Ltc.
Giyono Sutomo, and 15 Jenggawah farmers. Jawapos, 15 January 1997.
231
Sukardi, “Land For People” Inside Indonesia, January-March 2002, accessed on 19 October 2004 from the
internet, Website: http://www.insideindonesia.org/edit69/sukardi1.htm.
232
Kompas, 6 Oct 2001.
99
security protection from the KORAMIL, because it needed the office. The
people kept disagreeing with the deal, but because the KORAMIL was
backing up the arrangement, they did not protest it openly.233
After the fall of Suharto in May 1998, the people of Babatan brought up the
case again, demanding the return of the land to the villagers. The situation
became tense on 4 October 2001 when five employees from the company
working on the land were attacked by thousands of the Babatan villagers.
The employees escaped to the KORAMIL HQ, but the angry mobs came
there and demanded the five employees be given up to them. Having
burned the trucks parked in front of the office, they threatened to burn
down the KORAMIL. The villagers only left after the mobs forced all
parties to cancel the deal.234
So, in all three categories, the local military could no longer solve the land
conflicts based on the military preference as they could do in the New
Order era. During the New Order most cases had been resolved through
the deliberative mechanism of the Bakorstanasda (Badan Koordinasi
Strategy Ketahanan Daerah/Coordinating Body of Strategy for Regional
Resilience) headed by the Pangdam (Military Area Commander in
Chief).235 A former member (from 1996-1998) of Bakorstanasda said that
after 1998 this body was totally ineffective until it was finally abolished in
2000 by President Abdurrahman Wahid.236 Military territorial units from the
lowest level of the Sub-district level KORAMIL to the highest (Provincial)
level KODAM, which in the New Order era had been powerful in settling
the land conflicts, now could not even solve their own land disputes
against the villagers. Repressive solutions were no longer effective as they
233
Nanang disclosed the information to one of my respondents who had been helping to try to find a solution to
the conflict. Interview M41.
234
The five employees were Untung, Wanto and Surpri, Ragil and Parjri. They were also accompanied by two
policemen, Chief Brigadier Police (Bripka) Mat Kasan and Second Brigadier Police (Briptu) Subaeri. See
Kompas, 6 Oct 2001.
235
As described previously, the Bakorstanasda comprised all local leaders: government bureaucracy, military,
police and judiciary. See Chapter Three, “Relation with the society”.
236
Interview M11. In the case of Harjokuncaran villagers against the Army’s Puskopad, on 15-5-1999, East Java
Bakorstanasda initiated a meeting for the conflicting parties, and claimed that the conflict was solved (as written in
the Table of Description of Land Conflicts in Malang Regency, as Appendix C-1 of the 2002’s End-of-Year
Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of Malang) , but as seen in the footnote 80, up to 2003, the conflict
was still there.
100
had been in the past. A local government official said that the military
could not do much except hold up and prolong the settlement process
when the legal settlement would seem to be disadvantageous to the
military.237 The villagers, in contrast, were more convinced that the whole
society and the political system would stand with them in the settlement of
land conflicts. They realized that the people would no longer tolerate and
accept any military intention to use its force in resolving the conflicts. This
increased the “courage” (keberanian) of the people to act against the
military oppression. “Don’t ever try now to “oppress the people” (menindas
rakyat) like in the past, if you don’t want trouble” (kalau ndak mau
susah).238
On the other hand, there was a common thought among the military
officers that it was not the right time to take tough stances against the
people under the current unstable social and political circumstances.239 In
fact, the Bakorstanasda did not take any significant steps, but left the
military units to negotiate on their own. The latter were more concerned
about the security of their own base than the “unused land” (lahan tidur)
that was occupied by the villagers living around the base. “Our base is
surrounded by dozens of villages without good fences; as far as they do
not directly threaten the base, we need to avoid “provocative actions” that
might make the situation worse”.240 Despite this, however, there was also
a thought that the conflict was only temporary as the result of democratic
and “reform euphoria” (reformasi kebablasan) and that, in the end, the law
would decide that “they [the villagers] would have to go”.241
2.3. Local communal conflicts: the “dukun santet” and “ninja” murders
By the end of July 1998 villagers had turned into judge, jury and executioner; the
most shocking tragedies, the killings of accused sorcerers (Dukun Santét/Black
237
Interview B114.
Interview V21.
239
The respondent was an officer of the Abd Saleh Air Force Base, but at the time of interview was a military
representative in an East Java District Parliament. Interview M83.
240
Interviews M83, M32, M109.
241
Interview M17.
238
101
Magic Practitioners) had begun to take place. The killings started in rural villages
of Bayuwangi, the most eastern Regency of East Java, but spread out in the
following weeks to the neighboring Regencies such as Jember, Pasuruan,
Sumenep and Malang. By the end of October 1998 the number of victims had
reached 143 in Banyuwangi alone and 105 in the neighboring regions. Various
versions and theories about the murders had offered confusing and conflicting
answers, including the theories of “conspiracy against the NU”, “ex-PKIs’
revenge”, “pure crimes” or “culturally motivated communal crimes”.242 This study
was not designed to answer who were behind the killings and why, as those
theories had attempted to do. Rather, its specific aim was to search for the
significant meaning of this tragedy in terms of the military–community relations.
Highlighting the arguments made about the previous two issues, the attacks on
the Chinese and the land reclaims, it re-stresses that the murders demonstrated
the declining of the military’s control over the society during the same period.
The following facts indicate this. Firstly, the military had made no comment or
explanation about the murders; neither had it taken any significant step to stop
them in the beginning of their emergence in June 1998. The first public comment
was given by the Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces, General Wiranto, on
18 Oct August 1998 during his visit to Banyuwangi, when he stated that it was not
impossible that the murders were "a result of conflict in the political elite".243 In
contrast to this was the statement from the National Police Chief Lt. Gen.
Rusmanhadi that the offenders must be Communists or their descendants.
Similarly, the East Java Provincial Police Chief said that the Dukun Santét cases
were pure crimes motorized by ex-PKI families who were determined to commit
revenge. None of these statements could be proved true, however. Wiranto’s
statement was made one day after Abdurrahman Wahid (Gusdur) gave a
comment which later became the widest publicly-believed theory, that of a
conspiracy against the Islamic NU. Wiranto’s statement appeared to be a reaction
242
See for example, “Pembunuhan Berantai di Bumi Osing”, Tempo, 19 October 1998; Mohammad, Kartono,
“Dari Daha Sampai ke Banyuwangi,” Tempo, 26 October 1998; “Dukun Santét” Dibasmi, “Ninja Diganyang, Lalu
Apa Lagi?” Tempo, 2 Novemebr 1998. In English see for example Brown, Jason, “The Banyuwangi Murders,”
Inside Indonesia, No. 62, April – June 2000, or Liebhold, David, “That New Black Magic”, Time Asia, Vol. 152. No.
15, 19 October 1998; For a more detailed list of the victims, see for example ELSAM Human Right Reports on
ELSAM’s website: www.elsam.or.id-pdf-paper-1998-bab4_98.pdf.url
243
“Pembunuhan Berantai di Bumi Osing”, Tempo, 19 October 1998.
102
to Gusdur’s accusation that Army elements were involved in the conspiracy.244 In
the New Order era, the military, as the state’s security authority, would have been
the first element that issued clarifications to the public and taken appropriate steps
from the beginning to steer the public opinion.
So, more of the general public believed in the Gusdur allegation, regardless of the
reliability of this theory, than what the military and police stated. It was clear that
the government and the army could no longer dominate what the people had to
believe, as it would have in the past. The newly born free press, which significantly
contributed to the overthrow of the New Order regime245, helped keep this
hypothesis alive in people’s heads by blowing it up in the dailies’ main headlines.
The government and the security forces were rarely given space in the news. In
fact, even some of the defensive statements from the military were significantly
limited in their reporting by the press. This also helped the conspiracy theory to
remain dominant among the East Javanese public.246 In the New Order era the
authority could easily dominate public opinion.247 Now, public opinion had been
shaped toward a simple “good and bad”, and the military was in the bad position.
Its “element” was alleged to have been involved in master-minding the killings,248 it
was ignored when it called for their stopping, and there was scepticism about
whether it would be able to provide an effective solution to them. Eventually, the
244
As the National Head of NU (Nadhatul Ulama, the largest Islamic organization), Gusdur indicated, in a
statement on 17 October 1998 that the killings were a “conspiracy” against his organization. The National
Chairman of the NU’s associated PKB party, Matori Abdul Jalil, said it was “a conspiracy to fail the election and to
destroy the basis of PKB”. See Elsam, Op.cit., p. 20. It was then re-stated by the East Java Head of the NU, KH
Hasyim Muzadi, who believed that “the killings aimed to discredit the NU”. These statements were initially based
only on some rumors but were then allegedly confirmed by the investigation conducted by a NU fact-finding
investigation team, which claimed that the victims were mostly NU clerics and members, not the sorcerers. NU
followers who are the stronghold of the Islamic syncretism and traditionalists believed Gusdur’s allegation about a
secret alliance of a rival Islamic organization (ICMI/Indonesian Association of Islamic Scholars), the government,
army elements and Suharto loyalists as being behind the killings. The argument for this theory was that because
NU was planning to form the PKB Party, the party would be a potential challenger against the existing
government so therefore had to be weakened. Muzadi alleged publicly that the killings “aim to provoke [revenge]
attacks” from NU followers. This would create “rural chaos” and discredit NU and in turn NU would be forced “to
face the army.” Augustus 2002. See Hakim, L., “Aksi Pembantain Dukun Santet/Tukang Sihir: Studi Kekerasan
Sosial Dalam Tragedi Banywangi Tahun 1998”, Jurnal Ilmu-Ilmu Sosial (Social Science Journal), Fakultas Ilmu
Administrasi Negara Universitas Barawijaya, Vol 14. No. 2.
245
For significance of the media’s involvement in toppling Suharto from power see for example Kingsbury, Op.cit.
p. 124.
246
A source from some respondents who used to be close to the former Regent, Colonel Purnomo Sidik, who
resigned because of the allegation of being involved in the murders expressed this. The former Regent repeatedly
made statements denying his involvement, but these rarely appeared in the newspapers. Interview B143.
247
See Chapter Three.
248
For an example of an article especially discussing the involvement of the military in the murders see, “Siapa
Dalang Kasus Dukun Santet?” Suara Merdeka Cyber News, 7 December 2003, accessed from the internet on
21
October
2004,
on
the
website
address:
http://www.suaramerdeka.com/cybernews/harian/0312/07/teropong2.htm
103
existing government and the military were psychologically isolated from the rest of
the community. The people, the reformist elites and the press were the ones who
determined what had to be believed and done, not the government and its law
enforcement agencies.249
Several scholars had written about this case, but no one has found strong
evidence about the accuracy of the conspiracy theory, although some seem to
attempt to direct their analysis toward a conclusion that implies that Gusdur might
be right.250 However, there is independent research which disagrees. A research
project carried out in 1999 by the Public Administration Faculty of the University of
Brawijaya in Malang across nine Sub-districts of the Banyuwangi Regency,
suggested that
”Recent statements and stories on the causes of and the
background to the 70 killings investigated are very different from
those prevailing at the time of the incidents. For instance, none of
the victims were Koranic teachers, kyais or religious leaders,
mosque trustees or other Islamic figures, likewise the perpetrators
were not masked ninja types or military from outside the area, but
neighbors. Indeed, there is little or no evidence these killings were
carried out by outsiders working to a sinister plan or conspiracy to
destabilize area, should thus be discounted. The true reasons for
the killings and even the identities of some of the killers and people
who planned them are known to local communities.”251
249
Although the government, military and police denied the allegation and released their version of what was
actually happening, the public was not really convinced. They believed Gusdur and NU Kyais more than anyone
else, as they always did. In the past, these Kyais were mainly used as tools by government officials to convince
the NU followers when they needed public approval. Now the government was “bad” (an anti-reformist group)
while Kyais were the “good” reformist groups. Gusdur said that "the masterminds are everywhere, in the cabinet
and outside the formal political structure." One of the cabinet members who Gusdur indicated was involved was
Small Business and Cooperatives Minister Adi Sasono, who was the Chairman of the Indonesian Association of
Muslim Intellectuals (ICMI), and who denied the allegation. The reason for Gusdur to accuse Adi Sasono was not
clear, but it may be because he was not only a Habibie cabinet minister and came from the same (ICMI) group,
but also he was very close personally to Habibie. Partly, the conspiracy argued that it also aimed to undermine the
MPR General Session that was to decide the future of the Habibie government. Yet, ICMI was not a party, unlike
NU it had no mass support, and it had no any link to any group capable of conducting violence. See…
250
Many writers like Mahony, Siegal and Loveard who discussed the theories and accusations as to who was
behind the dukun santét murders did not find the truth which remains unknown. But they found that most people,
however, believed “the murders were politically motivated and the climate of instability subsequently led to an
increase in violence and a ‘surge of untamed impulses’.” See Mahony, Inez, “The Role of Dukun in Contemporary
East Java: A case study of Banyuwangi dukun”, Research Report to Faculty of Social Science and Politics,
University of Muhammadyah Malang, December 2002. See also Siegal, James T., “Suharto Witches”, Indonesia,
issue 71, 2001, pp. 27-78; Loveard, D., “Death’s Long Shadow: a mysterious killing spree troubles the nation”,
Asiaweek, vol. 6, Nov. 1998, p. 1.
251
See Hakim, L., “Aksi Pembantain Dukun Santet/ Tukang Sihir: Studi Kekerasan Sosial Dalam Tragedi
Banywangi Tahun 1998”, Jurnal Ilmu-Ilmu Sosial (Social Science Journal), Fakultas Ilmu Administrasi Negara
Universitas Barawijaya, Vol 14. No. 2. Augustus 2002, especially the abstract, p. 233. Another writer, Jason
Brown, “The Banyuwangi Murders”, Inside Indonesia, April–June 2000, No. 62, found that “In Banyuwangi of the
143 suspected dukun santét who were murdered only one was a Koranic teacher”. Brown suggested that while it
104
The exaggeration of the conspiracy theory by the media shifted the issue from the
original, “accused sorcerers” to politicized, “suspected ninja” murders.252 The
impacts on the community included the spread of suspicion and anger among NU
followers throughout the East Java Province, especially where NU followers were
concentrated. This anger was manifested in two levels of developments. The first
was the spread of the case from Banyuwangi to neighboring Regencies where
NU communities were dominant in the local population. While in the original
murders the target was the alleged sorcerers, in the new one it was the alleged
“mysterious” killers of the sorcerers. In both stages the victims were multitude, but
in the second the victims were wrongly targeted and included insane people and
visitors to the villages where the killings happened. While in the first case the
victims were killed by a group of villagers, openly during the day but sometimes
secretly during the night, in the second all were openly and brutally executed by
villagers.253
The second development was an escalation of demonstrations in the Regency
capital, Banyuwangi City, demanding the resignation of the Regent, Colonel T
Purnomo Sidik. The fulfillment of this demand was stated to be a form of
responsibility that he had to show, over both his failure in providing security for the
Banyuwangi people and also his alleged involvement in masterminding the killings
of Dukun Santét.254 The demands and threats from the NU community forced him
to resign only two years into his second five-year term as Banyuwangi Regent.255
is true that a NU investigation team had found that 83 of the 143 killed were actually NU members, this was not
particularly unusual given that Banyuwangi has always been a staunch NU stronghold.”
252
Local, national and international media that frequently took the issue as their headlines were: Jawapos, Surya,
Suara Merdeka, Kompas, Tempo, Asia Week, or Time Asia. See for example,
253
Ibid, p. 238 – 239. See also an article by Jason Brown, “The Banyuwangi Murders”, Inside Indonesia, April –
June 2000, No. 62. Jason Brown said that one of the factors that spread the tragedy to the neighbouring regions
was that, “NU spokesmen often overreacted to the situation by calling on the community to protect their local
Muslim cleric, creating a scene of hysteria throughout the entire province.”
254
The allegation was controversial. NU’s accusation was based on the fact that on 17 September 1998, Regent
Purnomo Sidik sent Radiogram No. 450/1125 807 409 028/1998 to all heads of Sub-Districts (Camat) to check all
data about suspected dukun santét in their Sub-districts. Yet, according to the Regent the data was used for an
attempt to evacuate the potential victims to the safe locations. Interview M55.
255
It was not really clear, whether the mass demonstrations against the Bupati were spontaneous consequences
of this tragedy, or whether the tragedy had been intentionally masterminded or politicized as the destabilizing force
for the speeding up of power changes. On the surface the former seemed to prevail. Yet, the latter was not
impossible, if it was thought to be too long to wait for three years for the next Bupati Election. Second, it was also
possible that it was thought that the existing Bupati would be a potential obstacle for the PKB to win the incoming
national election in Banyuwangi Regency. And third, it was, possible that it was thought to be a strong force to
destabilize the Habibie government so that Habibie supporters would be discouraged and lose bargaining power
in the incoming MPR session that would decide the future of his presidency. Any intention by Habibie supporters
105
In fact, the ninja issues (which evolved from the Dukun Santet issues, in
searching for and executing the suspected killers (ninja) by the local
people) were not stopped by the military and police, but mostly by calls
from the religious kyai leaders.256 The ninja hunting was a public reaction
to stop the “dukun santét” killings. The ninja issue was provoked by the
local NU’s political leaders who felt threatened, mainly on the basis of the
conspiracy theory. However, the issue became another tragedy because it
triggered the same brutal social punishments to the suspects. The calls for
stopping the actions were made after these leaders realized that they
indirectly had created the same human tragedy that they wanted to stop in
the first place – the dukun santét killings turning into suspected ninja
killings. The military and police, on the other hand, did not achieve
significant results in stopping the either case. The local security forces
were reluctant to act decisively; when they tried to stop them, “the
hysterical mobs” who often out-numbered them; and when police arrested
those suspected to be connected with the murders, villagers protested
outside police stations for the release of their friends and threatened to
burn the stations.257 In Gondang Legi village in Malang Regency some
soldiers living in or around the village were threatened to be targeted,
because of being suspected by the mobs as the spy agents, or the
backers, of the Ninja. For a few weeks they chose to live in the battalion
housing to escape from the mobs.258 By the end of November, the public
murders decreased, but sporadic and mysterious killings continued.259
So, in the Dukun Santet case the military was not the victim, but suspected as
among the (ninja) executors. In the Ninja case, the military personnel were among
of maintaining power and delaying the national election until 2002, for example, would have to be prevented. In
this sense, the tragedy would be used to further discredit the Habibie government. To prove this, however, a
further study is needed, which this thesis has not been able to explore.
256
A respondent who was the Head of the village where the ‘Ninja hunting’ took place revealed this. Interview
V20. Another Village Head confirmed that his villagers stopped the ‘Ninja hunting’ only after the kyais called for a
halt. Interview V21.
257
Interview P145. The respondent was a police officer in Malang Resort Police Headquarters.
258
Interviews M112, M113, M146, M142.
259
In Sumenep, for example 59 accused sorcerers were murdered in the period of 1999 to 2002. Bali Post
Online, 22 April 2002. Accessed from the internet on 20 October 2004, http://www.balipost.co.id/
balipostcetak/2002/4/22/n4.htm.
106
the targets as victims, because of the allegation of being the suspicious Ninja. Yet,
both cases indicated the apparent collapse of law and order, thus the decline of
the military role in the community as the state’s manager of violence.
3. Demoralization of the military
As noted, the military restrained much of its coercive power and let the
people carry out their brutal actions. Attempts at persuasive calls,
unfortunately, were not effective either. On 20 May 1998, the East Java
Governor, Basofi Sudirman, and the East Java KODAM Military
Commander in Chief, Maj. General Djaja Suparman, had called for the
security and the people to work together to “clean up” the rioters.260 On
June 16 the military headquarters in Jakarta issued “a warning about a
crackdown against lawlessness” but it appeared ineffective to stop the
disorder.261 Also, as demonstrated earlier, in the cases of Dukun Santét
and Ninja in East Java, public opinion was mainly controlled by NU’s kyais
who had gained their political autonomy and exerted their political
ambitions independently from the previous bureaucracy and military
influences. In the New Order era, the government and the military had
used these informal leaders to help them control the society, and in return
the government usually provided the kyais and their religious Pesantren
Schools with materials and financial assistance.262
In contrast to the people who seemed to lose their fear of military coercive
power, local military officers and soldiers seem to lose their selfconfidence to use the coercion, partly because of there being no clear
legal support for their actions. As local military respondents told me, “We
do not want to be blamed for violating human rights, intervening into non260
“Rakyat Harus Ikut Mencari Perusuh”, Kompas 22 May 1998. On 19 June 1998 Djadja Suparman and Police
Chief Maj.Gen. M Dayat repeated the calls for the people to help the security forces to ensure the security. See
“Pangdam V jamin Keamanan Masyarakat Jatim”, Kompas 20 June 1998. People had been worried about
conflicts that might break out after the fall of Soeharto. See, for example, statements by Muhadjir Effendi (Rektor
UNMU Malang), KH Cholil Bisri (the owner of the Pesantren/Islamic Boarding School in Rembang, and Daniel
Saparingga (Political Observer of UNAIR Surabaya) in “Gerakan Reformasi Memasuki Masa Krusial”, Kompas
22 May 1998.
261
Washington Post, July 22, 1998.
262
Interview K2. The respondent was a Deputy of a District DPRD in East Java, and a Kiyai and a member of FKB
107
military affairs, victimized for the favour of the elite”263; “If our commanders
cannot protect themselves from the Human Rights charges, there was no
way they would protect us, should we commit similar crimes”264; “We were
confused about what to do”; and that the important thing now is “how to
secure my self and my family”, because “nobody (else) would, even the
commanders.”265 One respondent said that in many cases the orders
came late because of, it seems, the higher commanders’ unwillingness to
take responsibility (saling lempar tanggung jawab) as if in fear of similarly
unwanted human rights violation accusations”.266 Consequently, although
the riots happened near their military base, for example, no officer took an
initiative before they got very clear orders from their higher authorities.
According to a military respondent the officers and soldiers were
concerned more about the effects of the reform movements on their
personal matters. In fact, the land conflicts, for example, were clearly a
mass action against the military institution, while the individual officers and
soldiers were reluctant to take initiatives on their own, for example, to
prevent or stop the villagers occupying the lands.267 A self restraint,
whether realized or not by the military both at the institutional and
individual level was not taken on a purely voluntary basis but resulted from
a comprehension about a growing power of the people.
At local-leadership level, there were also confusing procedures about the
responsibility for Control and Command (Kodal) between the military and
the police, especially since the May instruction of Gen. Wiranto about the
transfer of Kodal from the local military commander to the local police
chief.268 In the field this transfer affected also resentment between the
military and the police about who would hold the “security fund” (dana
taktis komandan). Previously, each soldier usually got security pocket
263
Interview M55.
Interview M22.
265
Interview M112.
266
Interview M147.
267
The respondent was an officer living near the disputed area. Interview M95.
268
On May 14 1998, General Wiranto issued an instruction on the transfer of Kodal from the Military Area
Commander (PANGDAM) to the Area Police Chief (KAPOLDA) in case of riots. “TR Pangab selaku ketua
Bakorstanas, Nomor TR 14/STANS/1998. The TR was cited in Zon, Fadli, Politik Huru Hara Mei 1998, (Jakarta:
Institute for Policy Studies (IPS), 2004), p. 111.
264
108
money from this security fund.269 In addition, local military respondents
told me that they could feel how nervous the military’s top leaders were as
they gave so many warnings to the local military units, and sometime
similar warnings were repeated for several days. For example, they
received some instructions from the Intelligence Assistant of the KODAM
V Brawijaya Headquarters in Surabaya, not to tolerate any mobs coming
onto them, to keep at least a half of the troops on the base when the units
were required to send any troops to different areas, so that any attack on
the base could be prevented, not to bring their troops to jog outside the
bases as they used to do every morning; to reduce using military vehicles,
to cover the military’s vehicles’ number plates with ordinary (civilian) cars’
plates, because there had been reports that military vehicles were being
harassed and attacked by those who called themselves reformists.270 In
fact, it was also reported that some soldiers who lived outside the base did
not come to their bases because they had been harassed by the mobs on
their ways.271
However, there were also some military respondents who appeared
apathetic because of their resentments toward the democratization
movements, as they said, “Let them [people] know what they got from the
reform era”, that they would not be able to solve their problems “without us
[the military]” and that they did not really want us “to go back to
barracks.”272 They might have thought that this would make the people
learn to appreciate them. In addition, some military respondents said that
in 1998 the soldiers were too “reluctant (ogah-ogahan), sick (muak) and
bored (bosan)” to do the security operations as in some cases, some local
security personnel shared social jealousies with local people against the
Chinese.273 As noted before, the military were themselves becoming the
269
Each soldier usually was given about 20,000 rupiah (US$ 2.50) per day, but sometimes the commanders
marked up the numbers of their troops in order to get more money. Interview M151.
270
Interviews M10, M133, M129, M138.
271
As mentioned before, most territorial units, except fighting units like Battalions or Companies, did not provide
housing and did not house their soldiers in a military complex, but they lived in private housing within the civilian
communities.
272
Interview M54.
273
This was expressed by some of the local officers and soldiers during the interviews. Interviews M112, M139,
M113, M141. Before 1998, some of them also took advantage of the insecurity situation, as the more scared the
Chinese were the more expensive the price for security protection that the Chinese would pay, so the more
109
target of the angry public. The KORAMIL (Sub-district Military Command)
in Kencong was several times threatened by mobs searching for Chinese
who were alleged to be hiding inside the headquarters. A month earlier,
some angry mobs also came to the units insisting on “bendera setengah
tiang” (a flag at half-mast) for a solidarity recognition of the Tri Sakti
University students shot in the student actions in Jakarta.274
It seems that reluctance to act was becoming a common feature of the
local military in East Java during the 1998/1999, because of several
factors mentioned above, such as loss of self confidence and confusion
both at leadership level or among field officers and soldiers in the field,
apathetic attitudes because of resentments toward the democratization
movements, or a degradation of moral responsibility for the security. This
reluctance seems to be responsible for, as well as affected by, the
collapse of law and order. As reformasi was a multifaceted process the
collapse of law and order did not represent the whole situation in East
Java. The other side of the faces of reformasi has been marked by the
emergence of grassroots-based democracy, as seen below.
4. An Emergence of grassroots-based democracy: The case of the
Mutual Aid Communication Posts (PGR)
The sense of democratic freedom in the East Java soon after the
resignation of President Suharto was partly markedly symbolized at the
grassroots level by the mushrooming of the “PDIP-colored” (red and black)
so-called “Mutual Aid Communication Posts” (PGR, Poskom Gotong
Royong) shelters. Within a few months there were tens of thousands of
these PGR throughout the Province. According to a PDIP activist, there
were 20,000 or more, with the biggest number in Surabaya, Malang and
Jember.275 They were built on the sides of the roads, at a distance apart of
money they got. This was revealed by some military respondents (soldiers who used to work as security guards
in entertainment centres in Malang City). Interviews M147, M132, M142.
274
Interview M22.
275
The biggest number was in the Provinces of Central Java and Yogyakarta, with more than 25,000 buildings,
according to the claim by Drs Suratal, the Chairman of PDIP Central Java to the Harian Barnas (‘Bernas Daily). In
Semarang City there were about 300 PGR buildings, said Ismoyo, the Chairman of PDIP Semarang. The
110
about two hundred metres or less, on the corners of town squares or near
train stations, markets or in the villages’ centres, and even in unused yard
spaces of public buildings.276 The important significance of the existence
of the PGR buildings to this study is that how they were built and used
represented what sorts of people and what sorts of political attitudes
composed the PDIP; thus depicted what sort of public political participation
was being demonstrated. Apart from how important the PGR activity was
to the PDIP, to the majority of the population it simply represented another
trauma of the politics of chaos, and frequently violence, which took over
the vacuum space left by the powerlessness of the state’s law
enforcement.
The public initiative to build PGR emerged firstly from the Chairwoman of
PDIP, Megawati Sukarnoputri, during the party’s Rakernas (National Work
Meeting) in Jakarta, August 1998. In the meeting she instructed PDIP
members to build PGR buildings in each Commissariat of each Subdistrict (Korcam/ Komisariat Kecamatan). The instruction was then
formalized in a letter No 57/DPP/IN/XI/ 1998 about the building of Posko
Gotong Royong.277 According to a PDIP politician, the buildings were selffunded and the jobs were carried out by the local supporters who had
great enthusiasm and loyalty to Megawati’s call. Yet the local people who
were actually involved in the work said that the sources of funds came
from “donations” that were distributed by the PDIP organizations both at
local and national level, collected from passers-by, from street-singers
(pengamen) and organized beggars recruited from unemployed, homeless
people, or from pedicab (becak) drivers. Except for the first-mentioned
source of the money, the respondents refused to use the word “donation”
because mostly it was not given voluntarily, but because the youths in the
Posko “asked for donations by force” (narget atau setengah memaksa).
So, the travellers gave the money because they were scared of the
practice of Kuningisasi (‘Yellowing’), painting buildings yellow, the Golkar colour, during the New Order inspired
the Central Java PDIP. Shops and private properties which had used to be Golkar yellow now turned into the
PDIP red and blacks. See Harian Barnas, 25 November 1999. Interview D7 (the respondent was a member of
the F-DIP of Malang City, 1999-2004).
276
During 1998 and 1999 I was living in Malang, East Java, and witnessed the messiness of PGR buildings.
277
It was decided to have a minimum number of one PGR in each Korcam. Interview D7.
111
youths. Those who were involved in the building work and the guardians of
the buildings were also paid from this money.278
The way they were built also demonstrated a sense of irregularity. Local
government officials complained that PGR buildings became “negative
political propaganda”, “built without licence”, and some “stood on the
government’s property” (tanah pemda). The Regent of Nganjuk, Drs
Sutrisno R., for example, asked279 that the PGR buildings on Jalan Gatot
Subroto be removed because they were built on local government
property. The Chairman of the Islamic Followers Party (PUI/Partai Umat
Islam) of East Java, H Adji Said Abbas, for example, urged the local
government to stop the building of the PGR buildings that were recently
“mushrooming” (menjamur). The buildings on the sides of the major roads
made the view look so “messy”, and “must be discordant with the city
plan”.280
A PDIP politician said that the posts acted as a “multifunctional network”,
as “communication lines” among the members, for recruiting new
members and as informal “security posts” (pos pengamanan).281 The local
people, however, complained that “they became the centres where PDIP
members gathered, stayed awake overnight, played gambling and getting
drunk, sometimes with loud dangdut traditional music”, but they could not
stop them.282 The massive number of the buildings also showed a sense
of domination that made other groups in the community feel threatened.
Abdurrahman Wahid283, Chairman of the PKB, who, after the 1999
election was to become the next Indonesian President, complained that
the number of Posko PDIP was “too many, worsening instability more than
278
Interviews C119, C120, C125, C127. The respondents were not members of PDIP, but they said that they
were involved in the works to make money.
279
It was an interesting indication of the political climate at that time that he asked rather than demanded or just
sent people out to knock them down!
280
“Rawan, Keberadaan Posko-Posko di Pinggir Jalan” (Risky, the existence of PGRs on the side roads), Jawa
Pos 25 June 1999.
281
Secretary of PDIP Yogyakarta, H Surasmo Priyandono BA. See Suara Pembaharuan, 23 January 1999; 1910-1999; 26-10-1999; or Kompas, 05-01-1999.
282
Interview V 17.
283
Commonly known as Gusdur or Gus Dur.
112
helping the security” as claimed by PDIP elites.284 The existence of the
PGR was intimidating and disturbing to some local communities. In
several Islamic-based areas, such as Pasuruan, some of the buildings
were burnt by community members because of their being used for
organizing crimes by local youths,285 and most of the buildings were used
for recruiting homeless and street boys for PDIP demonstrations.286
From the security forces’ point of view, the spread of the PGR buildings
throughout the East Java territorial area was seen mainly as a threat to the
security of the community and the state, rather than as a part of
maintaining security. Basically, it was because those who ran the PGR
buildings were people traditionally regarded by the military or police as
part of the sources of criminals. Unlike other militias or community security
assistants such as Wanra/Perlawanan Rakyat (People’s Defense) and
Kamra/Keamanan Rakyat (People’s Security) who were mostly recruited
from Golkar’s youth organizations (FKPPI or PPM), or from Islamic youths
of NU’s Banser, PDIP’s youth following were traditionally regarded by the
military and police as “sources of instability”, therefore, the existence of
the PGR were seen cynically and suspiciously by the military as a security
challenge.287 Furthermore, they also appeared to take over some social
roles that used to be dominated by the military territorial units.288 Despite
these concerns, the military at all local levels did not take any step to stop
them. One reason for this was that there was no instruction from the
highest command to stop them. At the central policy level the military did
not want to be accused of being anti-reform and anti-democracy. It was
trying hard to wipe out the bad “image” (citra) of anti-democracy which
was being condemned by the demonstrations. The officers and the
284
Kompas, 17 December 1998
Interview V21.
286
Interview V20.
287
Interview M11. In contrast, PDIP respondents usually expressed the positive aspects of these PGR.
Interviews D7, D9.
288
Interview M15.
285
113
soldiers at the local level were uncertain about how to cope with the PGR
that were established under the banner of reform and democratization.289
One of my respondents, an Islamic activist, criticized the name Posko as
sounding like a military term, and warned of the PDIP’s “military
strategy”.290 Military respondents were similarly concerned about the use
of the abbreviated name, which in Indonesian military terminology means
“Command Post”, regarding them as “a chaotic way” to challenge the
existence of the military territorial command.291 On the other hand, the
sentiment of PDIP’s mass of supporters was effectively exploited by using
the attraction of these PGR. The leaders claimed that they were the
symbols of the PDIP people’s political struggles. The Chairwoman of
PDIP, Megawati Sukarnoputri, for example, warned that the PDIP offices
would be attacked by unidentified groups, and instructed all PGR near the
offices to be prepared for preventing the attacks. She warned that the
1997 “Kudatuli” (Kerusuhan Dua Puluh Tujuh Juli/July 27 riot) might reoccur.292
However, apart from sceptical views from others, the PDIP managed to
maximize the existence of PGR as its political campaigns attracted
marginalized elements of society to join with the PDIP’s self-claimed
identity293 as being the party of the “little people” (wong cilik), such as
pedicab drivers, street sellers, unskilled labourers, unemployed, homeless
or beggars, whose total numbers however were not marginal at all. These
sorts of people tended to interpret democracy as the struggle of small
people like them against injustice caused by the state policies. The PDIP
289
The Army Chief of Staff repeatedly stated that his program was to improve “the image” (citra) of the army in
the eyes of the Indonesian people. This meant avoiding intervention in political matters in any form. Interviews
M41, M33, M55.
290
Interview C134.
291
Most military respondents expressed this interpretation. Eg. Interviews M41, M4, M50.
292
The “July 27 1997 Riot” was the overthrow of Megawati from the PDI leadership and the take-over of the
central PDI office by military-backed groups, involving injuring hundreds of victims from the Megawati supporters
defending the building. For a discussion about this riot see, for example, the collective work Peristiwa 27 July,
(Jakarta: Institut Studi Arus Informasi & Aliansi Jurnalis Independen, 1997), or Bhakti, Ikrar Nusa, Militer dan Politik
Kekerasan Orde Baru, (eds.) (Bandung: Penerbit Mizan, 2001). After the PDI-P (Indonesian Democratic Party
(for/of) Struggle was successfully established to take over most of the supporters and the vehicle of the PDI, while
the PDI itself withered.
293
The PDIP’s symbol was a buffalo’s head, implying the ordinary people.
114
expressed its leading role in this struggle through the PGR where these
people were paid to join the struggle and promised to get a better
condition when the PDIP won the political competition to take over the
power in the country. So the PGR buildings became the centres for the
recruitment of new PDIP members and for organizing political actions, and
thus took a pivotal position in the PDIP’s campaigns during the 1999
general election.294
In fact, many PDIP politicians who took strategic positions either in the
legislative or executive branches of local government after the 1999
election were those who were recruited through, or activists running, the
PGR. Several of them, however, were well known by the local peoples as
not appropriate, partly mostly not educated enough, to hold those
positions because of their past background. On one case, for example, in
1999 a member of the PDIP faction (F-DIP) of one District’s DPRD failed
to be elected as the DPRD Speaker despite the faction being the biggest
in the DPRD, because he, according to respondents in the DPRD, only
had a Primary School Certificate as his highest formal education
evidence.295 Some kept demonstrating their original attitudes, such as
getting drunk in public places, being involved in gambling, involved in riots
and violence, caught in police sweeping through entertainment centres for
using illegal drugs, or being jailed for corruption charges, etc., after holding
public offices. As described in more detail in Chapter Eleven, a PDIP
member, who had become the Speaker of the DPRD in one city was
caught by journalists several times getting drunk, and once was caught up
among drug (ecstasy tablets) users in a police raid, and later was jailed for
a corruption conviction. So, beside the image of the PDIP as the party of
294
During the election campaigns in May 1999, these PGR were effectively used as the centres for organizing
mass mobilization for PDIP campaigns. Six months before the election, there was an increased war of symbols
and banners in strategic places, such as cross-roads and town square areas. In Surabaya, some banners
claimed the area as the territory of PDIP supporters, ("Anda Memasuki Kawasan PDI Perjuangan,"/You have
entered the area of PDIP). On Jagir and Kedungbaruk Streets, for example these banners were set at distances
of fifty to hundred metres. Some clashes occurred among parties’ supporters, mainly however between Golkar
and the new parties. On the 26th Anniversary of PDIP, 7 March in Surabaya, for example, around 1200 Golkar
banners and flags were removed during the night. Similar incidents happened in Central Java’s cities, such as
Tegal, Brebes and Pekalongan, while in Yogyakarta three PGR on Kusumanegara and Glagahsari Streets were
removed. Kompas, 22 March 1999.
295
Interview D7.
115
wong cilik people that the activities of its PGR succeeded in projecting, the
same PGR also left an image on the majority of the local population that
the PDIP was a party that lacked good politicians mainly because they
were recruited through PGR activities,296 rather than from religious
activists as in PKB or PPP or from educated scholars such as in PAN.297
With the PDIP winning a significant proportion of the number of politicians
in the local legislatures, they contributed to the negative perception of the
people toward the local Parliaments. As one NGO activist said to me, “No
wonder if the quality of DPRD members was disappointing as the majority
of the members had not been prepared properly, especially those from the
F-DIP, who were recruited randomly and suddenly (secara karbitan)”.298
The PGR phenomenon is important in terms of the concept of participatory
politics, in an experience dramatically unlike that during the New Order
when the military were the most active elements of the political forces,
including during the preparation for the elections. In the case of the ‘war of
symbols’, for example, the military Governors or Regents would actively
arrange the ‘Yellowing’ of public places to make them Golkar’s colour.299
Now this publicity technique had been taken over by the PDIP party, by
“Redding” of the area, by a party that had been most intensively
oppressed by the military. There was not enough evidence on the relations
between these PGR and the success of the PDIP gaining the largest
amount of voters in the 1999 election, yet the importance of the PGR
showed clearly the great participation of the PDIP supporters. They
contributed significantly to the rise of democracy, taking the most
advantage of political space being vacated by the military.
However, the feature of the increased public participation that was
demonstrated by the PGR also shows that to a large extent those who
296
More information about this is presented in Chapter Eleven.
A composition of DPRD members in the Districts of East Java is provided in Appendix…
298
Interview N127.
299
Among the most notorious was the Governor of Central Java, Maj. Gen. Suwardi who carried out
“Kuningisasi” (yellowization) of Semarang City. See for example, “Gubernur Jateng Tunjuk Kajati untuk hadapi
Gugatan Kuningisasi” (tTe Governor of Jateng/Central Java appointed the Provincial Attorney General to handle
the Accusation over Yellowization), Republika Online 31 March 1997. Accessed on 25 October 2003 from
http://www.republika.co.id/9703/31/31XKNG.023.html
297
116
were active in the PGR were mainly motivated by the economic difficulties
they were experiencing and the financial rewards offered, or promised for
post-victory delivery, by the PDIP. Beside that, as noted, it also
demonstrated that many of those who were recruited through the PGR to
be politicians were recognized by the public as having regrettable
backgrounds. Moreover, as seen later in Chapter Eleven, the increase of
public participation in politics was only a temporary phenomenon around
1998/1999 rather than reflecting a permanently higher political awareness
and active involvement. Regardless of the quality of this kind of a newly
grassroots democracy, its existence (along with the collapse of law and
order and the demoralization of the military) was very important in
encouraging the military to think about how to respond this political
development. One important form of response from the military was the
so-called Paradigma Baru TNI (TNI’s New Paradigm), presented below.
5. TNI’s New Paradigm and soldiers’ reactions
In response to the public pressures, in October 1998, the military initiated
its New Paradigm to begin reassessing its political role.300 There were
three main points outlined in this new paradigm. First, the term of
Dwifungsi was changed into Peran TNI (the Role of the Military), which
expresses that there was no more an explicit political role for the military.
Second, the military was “to reposition in the context of democratic
freedom within the frame of order and certainty”. And third, the military
was committed to a readjustment of its future military role.301 The following
table outlines the main points of the “Internal Reform” (Reformasi Internal)
of the military based on the TNI’s New Paradigm.
300
See the note in Chapter One, sections 1 and 2.
. See, ABRI Abad XXI: Redefinisi, Reposisi, dan Reaktualisasi Peran ABRI dalam Kehidupan Bangsa (21st
Century: Redefinition, Reposition and Reactualisation of the Role of ABRI within the Life of the Nation) (Jakarta:
Mabes ABRI, 1998), pp. 17–19. This book was distributed on the Anniversary Day of the Indonesian Armed
Forces, 5 October 1998. See also, Chapter Four , “Dari Empat Paradigma Baru ke Rapim Tahun 2000” [From
Four New Paradigms to the 2000 Leaders’ Meeting] in Said, Salim., Tumbuh dan Tumbangnya Dwifungsi:
Perkembangan Pemikiran Politik Militer 1958 – 2000., (Jakrata: Aksara Karunia, 2002), pp. 169-203.
301
117
No
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
Table V.1.
The Elements of TNI’s Internal Reform (Reformasi Internal TNI)
Elements
To define the new paradigm of ABRI’s social and political role
To define the new paradigm of TNI’s future role
To abolish ABRI’s Kekaryaan Staff, Directing Board of Karyawan
and Security and Order Staff – the Decision of the Minister of
Defence and Security/ the Commander in Chief of ABRI, No. Kep/
10/ P/ XI/ 1998, dated 10 November 1998.
To replace the Assistant of Social Politics with the Assistant of
Territorial, ~ the Decision of the Minister of Defence and Security/
the Commander in Chief of ABRI, No. Kep/ 09/ P/ XI/ 1998, dated 10
November 1998.
To cease the organizational relations with Golkar party and take the
same distance with all existing political parties, ~ an Instruction
Letter of the Commander in Chief of ABRI No. ST/ 19/ 1999, dated
29 January 1999.
To abolish kekaryaan of ABRI by an early retirement and converting
to be civil servant, ~ the Decision of the Minister of Defence and
Security/ the Commander in Chief of ABRI No. Kep/ 03/ P/ II/ 1999,
dated 15 February 1999.
To separate the National Police from the ABRI from 1 April 1999, ~
the Decision of the Minister of Defence and Security/ the
Commander in Chief of ABRI, No. Kep/ 05/ P/ III/ 1999, dated 31
March 1999.
To change the name of ABRI to TNI, the Decision No. Kep/ 259/ P/
IV/ 1999, dated 12 April 1999.
To change the Staff of Social Politics into the Staff of Social
Communication, ~ the Decision of the Minister of Defence and
Security/ the Commander in Chief of ABRI, No. Kep/ 09/ P/ VI/ 1999,
dated 29 June 1999.
To abolish the national and Regional Board of Social Politics, ~ the
Decision of the Minister of Defence and Security/ the Commander in
Chief of ABRI, No. Kep/ 09/ P/ XI/ 1999, dated 10 November 1999.
To abolish the Social Politics Staff of Kodam, Korem and Kodim.
To declare that TNI is not to be involved in formal politics.
To reduce the number of the faction of TNI in national, provincial and
district parliament.
To be committed and consistent to the neutrality of TNI in the
national election.
To evaluate the relations with the TNI’s family organizations and
their members.
To revise the TNI’s doctrine in order to be compatible with the
Reform and its role.
To apply public accountability to the foundations, businesses and
corporatism of the TNI.
To eliminate the position of Deputy Commander in Chief of the
Armed Forces
To abolish the national and regional coordinating board of national
118
stability and resilience.
To ensure that all TNI members participating as candidates in the
local government head elections have retired before running for
office.
21 To abolish the Awareness Command Post (Post Kewaspadaan
Nasional).
22 To abolish Social Politics subjects in the TNI education curriculum.
23 To define the concept of re-functioning and re-stucturization of
territorial governmental functions.
24 To improve the TNI’s members’ understanding and realization of law
and human rights.
Source: The original text is Indonesian which is sourced from Mabes TNI,
TNI Abad XXI: Redefinisi, Reposisi, dan Reaktualisasi Peran TNI (Jakarta:
Mabes TNI, 2000) p. 14-15 and Mabes TNI, Implementasi Paradigma
Baru TNI dalam Berbagai Keadaan Mutakhir (Jakarta: Mabes TNI, 2000),
pp.22-25, as quoted by Fattah, Dr. Abdullah, Demiliterisasi Tentara:
Pasang Surut Politik Militer 1945 – 2004, (Yogyakarta: LKiS, 2005), pp.
221-223.
The twin immediate impacts that this New Paradigm was expected to
20
produce were a building of external public trust302; as an internal
instruction to the soldiers and officers to help secure this mission of
recovering the military’s good image.303 Based on the ABRI Abad XXI (21st
Century ABRI) book which had been distributed to all units, the
Commanders were instructed to explain this mission to the soldiers who
were then expected “to avoid any behavior that could invite negative
reactions from the public.”
This section attempts to identify the impact of this paradigm change on the
soldiers’ behaviours that could recover the trust of the local people and
lead to a better behaviour in interacting with civilians. As the following
shows, practically, the soldiers and the officers were urged to elevate the
standard of discipline, but many of my military respondents, unfortunately,
302
As mentioned by Singh. See Chapter One, section 1.
The Indonesian Army Chief of Staff, General Tyasno Sudarto, on 16 May 2000 explained that the Army Top
Leaders Meeting (Rapat Pimpinan Angaktan Darat) had decided to produce an Army White Paper (Buku Putih),
an explanation, among other things, of the 2000 work program of the Army, which was aimed at recovering the
image of the Army (mengembalikan citra TNI-AD) externally and internally. Internally, it was mainly to attempt to
improve the soldiers’ discipline, such as by facilitating a quick court (pengadilan cepat) at every KODAM, to
improve professionalism, and to upgrade the welfare of the soldiers by, for instance, providing each Battalion with
one hundred million rupiahs (around $ 10,000) “Dana Abadi” (permanent savings, means that the unit can only
use the bank interest, but not the principal). “The money comes from the Kartika Ekapaksi Foundation of which I
am the Chairman”, he said. Externally, the Army would build a positive communication with the local society
around the military units, to prevent the national disintegration and to enforce the supremacy of the law. See
Kompas, 17 May 2000.
303
119
suggest that there was no clear effect of these discipline campaigns on the
soldiers and officers in the local units.304
5.1. Obstacles to discipline campaign?: From “Nge-ter” to “Nye-per”
One clear example of this was a national newspaper report, in Kompas 5
September 1999, about soldiers’ involvement in illegal logging. The report
said that dozens of military and police personnel were involved in
“penjarahan hutan jati” (illegal teak logging) in East and Central Java. One
of them carried with him an M-16 machine gun with twenty bullets, as
revealed in an Evaluation Meeting on the topic of “Handling the Illegal
Logging” (Penanganan Penjarahan Hutan on 4 September 1999).305 The
report was that Col. Police Atim had revealed that in Blora thirty eight
policemen, and some Sub-district Military Commanders, Village NCOs and
personnel of Battalion 410/Alugoro were involved in the illegal loggings. All
policemen had been pulled in to the HQ for investigation, all military
personnel involved had been reported to the Pangdam, but some eight
people, including the one with the gun had not been processed because of
protection from “oknum” higher officers.
My local military respondents said the word “discipline” for the soldiers
“has lost its meaning” (tidak berarti apa-apa). This campaign, he said, was
seen largely as “empty words” that, however, were aimed at the “wrong
targets” (salah sasaran); it should have been directed to “those who were
involved in the KKN at the leadership level” (bapak-bapak yang KKN
diatas), as demanded by the public.306 Another respondent said that,
the soldiers were not stupid; they all understood that the bad
image of the military was not caused by the degradation of
their discipline, but by the officers involved in the New Order’s
KKN; so why had they to be pressed down? In fact, most
304
Interview M112.
The meeting was chaired by the Operation Assistant of Police’ Central HQ May. Gen. Police
Bimantoro, and attended by the Director General of PHPH (Forest Protection), Soemarsono, Chief
Director of Perhutani (Forestry Affairs), Bambang Sardjito, East Java Police Chief, and the Chief of
Pusat Komando Pengendalian Operasi (Puskodalops)/Central Command of Controlling Operations,
Colonel Police Atim Supomo. Kompas, 5 September 1999.
306
Interview M53. Interview M54.
305
120
soldiers knew that some of their commanders enjoyed the
money (setoran) resulting from the business (nge-ter)307
[including illegal] that the lower-ranks (bawahan) run outside
their duties.308
Moreover, the military had not been immune to the various internal
corruptions, such as budgeting markups, which, just as among civilians,
were systematically and widely practiced by involving the lower-rank
soldiers; so it was very understandable that soldiers knew how corrupt
their commanders were but they just had no right to speak, as the
following shows.
One
respondent
who
was
the
Chief
of
Training
Preparation
(Kasiapjar/Kepala Seksi Persiapan Pengajaran) at a military training
centre in East Java said that every year he was involved in such a
systematic markup.309 His formal role was to select the course topics to be
proposed for the next term’s programs. In reality, he said, his job was to
keep the number of the course topics (mata pelajaran) as high as
possible, because every single topic brought money, such as for
producing the topic manuals or for paying the trainers’ incentives. He said,
ideally, for a three month course, there should be seven to ten topics, but
in reality it could be thirty to forty topics, most irrelevant (invented) nonmilitary topics, such as social and political doctrines. To be able to do that,
he shortened the allocated time for each topic, for instance, some topics
were only allocated a two-hour class, while the training time was extended
to include the evening classes; and in many topics, because of the
limitation in the number of the trainers, the classes were fictive. Yet, this
was good, he said, because what was important was that, “the cash
arrives” (uangnya turun), “the more topics we propose, the more money
arrives, and the more limited the (number of) trainers, the more money we
save”, this was “the key”. However, it was common that the amount of
307
Nge-ter is a common term among the military personnel to explain various activities to get money or business
relations outside their official jobs at territorial units. Nge-ter is not limited to the territorial service, although ter refers
to territorial units, but also to non-territorial units and personnel.
308
Interview M11.
309
Interview M150.
121
money approved was only around a half of what had been proposed,
therefore, he said, “we have to propose as much an amount as we can”.
Those officials who process the proposals know very well that they have
been marked up. Yet, they also like and encourage this – first, for the
purpose of showing that they have reviewed and cut the amount being
proposed, as if they were working properly, and secondly, to increase their
incentive which was normally, but illegally, accounted for in a percentage.
Simply, to get approval one had to pay those who processed the proposal.
Also common, he said, was that the approval comes at the end of the
program, instead of at the beginning of it. When I asked why, he answered
that it was because each level of the bureaucratic ladder kept the money
for a certain time to get the bank interest for them; and at some levels, the
original amount would be also cut (disunat). The implication, he said, was
that the training institution would have to provide funds by itself to run the
program, by doing it as “economically” as possible (meaning by creating
more fictive programs), and get reimbursement later. In general, he said,
the institution would manage to get a reimbursement much bigger than
what had been spent. A further technique to increase the benefit was to
increase the number of the trainees, which was the main source of money
because each trainee was allocated allowances, the spending of which
was carried out collectively by the training institution; but this was
someone else’s job, he said, yet “I know that it works in a similar way”.
When I asked where the marked-up money goes, he answered that it was
the responsibility of someone else, the Financial Division (Bagian
Keuangan), but listed some who commonly received this that he knew,
including the biggest portion, of course, for the Commander of the Training
Centre, staff who were involved in making the proposals, the officials who
processed the proposals, and the inspectors who during or after the
training signed the endorsements (the latter of the three groups consisting
of many levels). When I asked whether he got some money, he told me,
122
“well…just small splashes (cipratan kecil), but everybody knows, who can
live with merely the salary without having additional incomes (nyeper)310”.
In general, training programs were regarded as projects to make money
that benefit those who were involved in many different levels of the military
bureaucratic ladders. Some could speculate that the quality of the training
did not matter, as this was not the purpose but only to act as a means to
serve a pattern of corruption. As this practice was not a secret of a certain
group of people, but commonly known (sudah membudaya), that means
all soldiers understood it, so how would they trust and obey the demand
for “discipline” coming out from and required by their officers? To break
such a systemic pattern of corruption would not be an easy task, as it
seemed to need a comprehensive approach, ranging from political to
cultural to practical. That, however, should be discussed separately from
the main concerns of this study.
5.2. Economic pressures or ‘Reformasi euphoria’?: Soldiers’ protests
In the 1998 chaotic circumstances where there was a shocking messiness
of the social economy, the politics and the security, soldiers were among
the poor Indonesians who were economically hampered by these
difficulties. They were very vulnerable (sangat rawan) to the attraction of
involvement in criminal activities as a way of economic survival.311 The
report on logging mentioned earlier, was just one example of how soldiers
could be involved in such activities.
There was a growing concern among officers about the increasing
economic pressures on the soldiers on one hand, and the influences of
reformasi “euphoria” on the other. On several occasions, military
leaderships in Jakarta had sent written instructions as well as attentions to
the local units to be aware of the influence of the reformasi.312 In fact,
310
Nyeper is a common word referring to getting additional incomes beyond the official income in Indonesia. It
can refer to several terms, such as, nyari persenan (to get a percentage share, or commission), but sometimes,
people also use the term ceperan to refer to the money obtained as the result of the nyeper activities.
311
Interview M92.
312
Interview M45.
123
changes in the attitudes of the soldiers did happen. It had never happened
in the New Order era that soldiers openly criticized and demonstrated
against their commanders’ decisions that they did not agree with. Now, it
happened. On one occasion in early 1999, one company (around one
hundred and thirty troops) of a Battalion in East Java decamped in the
middle of the night from their barracks and stayed away for two weeks, to
express their protests against the attitude of the Company Commander
who in the soldiers’ view frequently gave too heavy punishments. The
troops demanded, and the demand was approved by the Headquarters,
that the officer be moved before they agreed to return to their barracks.313
On another occasion in mid-1999, members of another Battalion came to
the higher Headquarters under which command the Battalion was placed,
to protest their Battalion Commander’s decision prohibiting the soldiers
from using their official houses (rumah dinas) as shops (there were at
least twenty small shops in the Battalion’s complex). Again, the
Commander’s decision was then revoked.314 Initially, it was suspected that
there were reformist groups who had attempted to infiltrate and influence
the soldiers, but no evidence was found by the Headquarters and it was
concluded that the actions were mainly expressions of frustration in
dealing with economic difficulties. The Headquarters in Jakarta instructed
that the officers adjust their leadership style towards one which
emphasizes “a humane touch” (sentuhan kemanusian).315
A former Lieutenant Colonel in East Java told me that “many officers only
know how to press and to threaten their soldiers with discipline measures,
but lacked concerns about the difficulties and problems being experienced
by their subordinates and the units.”316 He pointed out a local military
commander’s official house (rumah dinas)317 and said, “look in that house,
there are at least five expensive cars, while the soldiers’ families are
313
The names of the Commander and the unit are not given, for reasons of confidentiality.
The names of the Commander and the unit are not given, for reasons of confidentiality.
‘The Humanistic Touch’ was made a topic for an essay competition among young Army officers, as part of the
campaign to change the leadership style. Interviews with a Kostrad’s Battalion’s officers.
316
Interview M11.
317
The respondent’s house where the interview took place was located around fifty metres from the official house
of the commander that he pointed out. So, it could be clearly seen what he meant.
314
315
124
starving and have no houses, and the units have no trucks, ambulance or
sufficient health facilities; other officials (pejabat) are more or less like
that.” He said, “The commander is treated like a king, but he gives nothing
to develop his unit and to help the soldiers”.
In coping with the economic difficulties, there had been official nation-wide
government programs of “planting unused lands” (penenaman lahan tidur).
The programs were operated under the ABRI Masuk Desa (ABRI Enters
the Villages) Programs. There was no available document from the military
about Lahan Tidur, but Appendix … shows a document from the
Department of Education illustrating how the program was organized interinstitutionally on a large scale.318 This included, at its small scale at the
local level, military units being instructed to convert the gardens within the
units’ complexes into farming lands for planting various crops needed for
the soldiers’ families. (However, in the opinion of one of my respondents,
the harvest results did not help significantly in solving the problems, while
the soldiers felt that they used more energy than they got from the
programs.319)
Some field commanders, such as those at Battalion level, understood the
economic problems facing the soldiers, but they also had to implement
stronger measures of discipline over their soldiers, as required by higher
instructions.320 Some of my respondents reported that, to reduce the
pressures on the soldiers, some commanders said to the soldiers, “You
can break the rule as long as “the top” (yang diatas) does not know,” or, “If
you do it cleverly and safely” (asalkan pinter-pinter); and “Most of us
understand what this means and play it well”.321 So, in applying the
318
The document is an official letter from the Director of Higher Degrees of the Department of Education of the
Republic of Indonesia, sent to Indonesian State and Private Universities, requesting them to provide technical
assistance to the programs. See also “Kasad Subagio: Saya akan perintahkan prajurit bertani.” (Chief of Staff of
the Army, Subagio: I will instruct soldiers to do farming), Kompas November 1997.
319
Interview M11.
320
It was common in the units under the command of Kostrad (Komando Strategi Cadangan Angkatan Darat
Strategic Reserve Command), to apply the rule that if one soldier or officer breaks the discipline, the commanders
who were up to two steps above will be also given punishment as their leadership responsibility. This was to
ensure that the commanders/superior officers paid greater attention to the leadership factor, such as control and
supervision. Interviews M112, M148, M149.
321
Interviews M11, M10, M148.
125
discipline measures, there was a compromise in the commanders’ feelings
between their feeling of insecurity against their higher command and their
personal integrity on one hand, and their understanding about the
difficulties of their soldiers on the other.
6. Summary
Three important related developments have been identified: the nearly
collapse of law and order, the demoralization of the military and a
psychological vacuum of power; and the rise of democratic forces. The
first development, there were mass attacks on targets associated by the
mobs with beneficiaries of the New Order system. In the cities this was
demonstrated by the attacks on Chinese community and their properties,
while outside the cities by attacks on lands and properties owned by state
or state institutions, including the military. In the communal conflicts there
emerged issues such as Dukun Santét killings and “Ninja hunting” in 19981999. In all of these conflicts the military was unable to deal with them
effectively. The military prescriptions to solve the problems were largely
rejected, and the people carried out their own unlawful solutions.
The military was not always the direct target, yet it was the one commonly
blamed for the reasons of the conflicts and most of the effects that they
created. In the communal conflicts, it was blamed for not acting sufficiently
or for not taking any action while it was restrained from acting effectively.
In the land conflicts, it was blamed for protecting and siding with “the rich”.
This accusation helped restrain the military intention to act decisively to
stop the land takeovers by the villagers. There was a great feeling of
confusion and reluctant attitudes among the soldiers and officers.
Consequently, there existed some feeling of a vacuum of power at the
community level, despite the physical presence of the security forces. At
the same time, political circumstances encouraged an emergence of
democracy. One clear example of this phenomenon was the mushrooming
of Posko Gotong Royong (Communication Posts for Community Mutual
126
Aid) set up by PDIP supporters. It was impressive because in a short time
their number became massive, and they represented an emergence of a
social force that would stand against the military’s control over the society.
So, in general, it seems that there were strong dialectical relationships
among the three developments, the almost collapse of law and order, the
military demoralization and the emergence of democracy.
The great effect of this growing power of the public was not only on the
attitudes of the local military officers and soldiers, but also contributed at
the national level where the military leadership responded by issuing some
new policies about military reforms. As discussed in the last section, the
reform policies took the form of a paradigm shift from the New Order’s
Dwifungsi – the security and political Dual Function of the military – to a
much more restricted political role for the military. The immediate impact of
the paradigm shift on the efforts to improve the military image by
measures to increase the discipline of the soldiers was not quite
significant; nevertheless, they further opened broader entrances for more
systematic changes to happen, as demonstrated in Chapter Six.
127
Chapter Six
LOCAL INSTITUTIONAL REFORMS:
Dismantling the military’s political networks
The key issue…is one of setting limits within which members of the
armed forces, and the military as an institution, accept the government’s
definitions of appropriate areas of responsibility.322
1. Introduction: The three reforms
Democratizing civil military relations requires re-establishment of clear boundaries
between the military and the civilian political institutions as a way of cutting down
the military’s direct political roles. As mentioned in Chapter Three, in the past New
Order (military) regime these border lines were very blurred or absent, with the
security and political roles integrated. Not only did individual military officers
322
Welch, Jr. Claude E., Civilian Control of the Military, Op. cit, p. 2.
128
occupy positions in civilian political and bureaucratic institutions, but military
institutions equipped themselves with political functions. In addition to this
horizontal integration, there was a strong vertical integration as the decisionmaking processes within civilian institutions at all levels were highly centralized
and arranged in strict hierarchies parallel to the structures of military commands.
To re-establish borders between the military and civilian institutions, three
packages of reforms have been very important parts of national reform programs.
One was the depoliticizing of military institutions, that is, the elimination of
organizational elements within military institutions that carry out direct political
roles. Another was the demilitarizing of civilian institutions, that is, the withdrawal
of all military personnel from them. The third was the decentralizing of
governmental decision-making processes, which reduced the absolute power of
the central government. The concern of this chapter is the forms and extents of
these changes and their effects on the military in their attempts to separate the
civil and military institutions and to cut the military’s direct political roles – a crucial
step in a democratic transition from a military rule before civilian control over the
military can be established.
2. De-politicization of military institutions
As mentioned previously, territorial commands and territorial commanders were
equipped with organizational elements such as the Staf Sospol (Social-Political
Staff Unit), Dewan Sospol or Wansopol (Social-Political Board), Bakorstanasda
(Regional Coordinating Agency for Stability and Resilience) and the Litsus or
Penelitian Khusus (Special Screening)323 that were assigned political roles during
the New Order era. The post-New Order military reforms abolished these
elements of the military institution, and attempted to bring the territorial command
back to its original functions in the defence and security areas. The following
subsections deal with the abolition process of each of the four bodies.
323
Detailed descriptions of these have been provided in Chapter Three.
129
2.1. Staf Sospol
The Staf Sospol were replaced by Komsos (Social Communication) from April 1,
1999. The change in name was intended to indicate that the military no longer had
roles in political affairs. The level of authority of this replacement body was
reduced; at KODAM (Regional Military Command) level it became a sub-section
of Territorial Staff. A Sospol had been led by a Colonel, while a Komsos was by a
Major, thus lowered by two levels. In addition to the elimination of the Colonel-level
position, its staff numbers were also cut down by more than a half.324 The scope
of its function was limited to being an administration service, such as in arranging
recruitment or replacement, for the military representatives in the DPRD.325
Moreover, this role would continue only until 2004 when that statutory military
representation in the parliaments would cease. However, the job description for its
daily tasks still followed “the same job description” that used to apply to the Staf
Sospol.326 One respondent said, “There is no need to rush; people would never
check in such detail”. He added that civilians would only need to know that the
name has changed, and “that is enough” to show the military’s good intentions.327
This opinion reflected the limits on civilian understanding of what was happening
inside the military, including the depth of the political reforms within the military
institution. It also reflected that what the military called “Internal Reform” was at
least as much a showing of responses to public demands as satisfying an
organizational reform inquiry. The task of coordinating the presence of the military
representatives who were still in the DPRD until 2004 also kept the Komsos active
in political matters. In addition to routine communications (regular reports)
between the F-TNI/POLRI from all Districts, political lobbying by civilian politicians
seeking support from the KODAM, for example, were still made through this
section before they could see the Regional Commander in Chief (Pangdam) or his
324
It was not clear how many personnel in KODAM V Brawijaya were affected by the changes in the
replacement of Sospol by Komsos, but a respondent estimated a figure of around three hundred including those
who had worked in the KODAM HQ itself, the four KOREM HQs, and the thirty four KODIM HQs. Some of them
were moved to territorial staff, others were temporarily stationed with no job in the HQs’ Maintenance Companies.
Interview M43.
At the District level (KODIM/Military District Command) the Staf Sospol Section was reduced to a sub-section of
Komsos and integrated into the Intelligence Section headed by a Captain; its daily tasks were focused on
collecting Social-Political Data from Sub-district Commands; and it was no longer required to communicate
directly with the Sub-district government. Interview M8.
325
Interview M43.
326
Interview M43.
327
Interview M.41
130
Territorial Assistant. Many politician respondents who I asked about their
approaches to get support from the KODAM in the cases of Bupati or Mayoral
Elections mentioned that they were linked to the Territorial Assistant or the
Pangdam by Komsos and Territorial Staff.328
Although some of my military respondents expressed their worries that in the new
system the military “may have difficulties” in getting information related to the
prevention of security disturbances, mostly they felt “relieved” with the elimination
of Sospol Staff because this reduced the “complexity” of territorial tasks329.
Especially the lower-ranked officers viewed the information provided by the civilian
governments as “full of formality routines” and “useless” because most of the
information was not up-to-date and no better than what was openly available in
newspapers or radio.330 One respondent claimed that the most important reason
they kept communicating with the civilian government, mainly the Sub-district
Governments (Kecamatan), had been “the money” as the “fruit of communication”
(nge-ter), “which … can exceed the monthly salary”. Apart from the fact that
financially the abolition was a disadvantage, as discussed below, in general the
tasks of the Staf Sospol were regarded as “burdening”, mainly because they dealt
with information involving the “complexity” of the social-political problems that most
staff members (especially the lower ranks) were not specifically prepared and
trained for.331 Respondents who had worked as staff officers in this Section said
that that they were pleased to see that the abolition of Sospol “has closed the gate
to external interaction”332 about social and political matters. Another respondent,
the Chairman of a F-TNI/ POLRI, said that the most obvious difference between
the past Staf Sospol and the new Komsos was that, while the former intensively
instructed and “controlled” the members of the F-TNI/ POLRI, the latter simply
received information, helped administration of the factions and was much less
active than the former.333 This suggests that it did minimize the military’s external
328
Interviews M81, M109, M103.
Interviews M43, M112, M113.
Interview M113.
331
The respondent was an Ex-Chief of Sospol Staff at District Command. Interview M112.
332
Interviews M11, M32, M33.
333
Interview M33. See laso Appendixes 7 and 8 that show that F-TNI/POLRI of the District or Provincial DPRDs
routinely submitted reports to their respective Headquarters.
329
330
131
political relations. Compared to the Sospol Staf334, the Komsos had a very low
degree of external political relations.
2.2. Wansospol
Whereas the elimination of Sospol staff slightly reduced the status, staffing and the
structure of territorial staff, the elimination of the Wansospol, the regional and subregional Boards of Sospol, abolished the formal authority of territorial commanders
at the regional or sub-regional level in determining the possible occupancy of
positions of District Bupati or Mayor or other civilian positions by active or retired
military officers with the rank of Colonel or just below.335 However, just as Komsos
was not entirely free from all political tasks, some territorial commanders still
attempted to determine the outcomes of the Bupati or Mayoral Elections. As will
be discussed in Chapter Eight, the cases of Sumberwaras (2000), Buluhlawang
(2003) or Mangun Redjo (2003), for example, demonstrated such involvement,336
although the ways became much more under-cover and based on personal
relations. The cases also show that this involvement could happen because the
civilian political elites were inclined to try to use the remaining influence of the
military for their own political interests.337 Most of the involvements of territorial
commanders in the local government leaders’ elections were a consequence of
the continued existence of the military representatives in the relevant DPRD
because some of the commanders held the view that as they were responsible for
supervising the military representatives they thus had the political right to be
involved, including setting political preferences for the military representatives.
However, several other of my military respondents said that it was money that
motivated the commanders more than the other reason.338
However, because of the new changes, the political roles that the commanders
could play had become very much limited. One former Wansospol member
334
As described in Chapter Four, the Staf Sospol used to communicate intensively with Sospol Offices of the
local governments at the Provincial and the District levels, with the F-ABRI/F-TNI/POLRI of the legislatures at both
levels and with the various social organizations under the supervision of the military.
335
How these authorities were used in the past has been discussed in Chapter Three.
336
Interviews M59, M83, M109, K58, P85, D105.
337
Interviews D105, D101, P85.
338
Interviews M83, M89, B57. This is discussed in more detail in Chapter Eight.
132
suggested that since the abolition of the Wansospol, the job rotations of local
government officials “can no longer be controlled” by the military (that is, the
territorial commanders) as they could be previously. Explicitly, his concern was
mostly about the loss of the military’s ability to prevent “undesirable groups”,
referring to Communist or Islamic radical supporters, from occupying these local
government leadership positions. Implicitly, though, he also expressed the loss of
the military officers’ more general opportunities to “dominate the course of
politics”.339 Unlike in the Staf Sospol, these regional Wansopol positions had been
mostly occupied by officers at the rank of at least Lieutenant Colonel. With their
capabilities both in terms of political experience and knowledge, as well the
possibility of personal interests in these positions, therefore, the abolition was seen
as a greater disadvantage for the military, especially for the higher ranks.
2.3. Bakorstanasda and Litsus
The elimination of the security agency Bakorstanas and the political screening
Litsus were decided by President Wahid issuing a Presidential Decree (Keppres.
No.38/ 2000) which was announced by the Cabinet Secretary, Marsilam
Simanjuntak on 10 March 2000. According to Simanjuntak, the President would
like to see that “nobody will be seen as a threat unless proven otherwise by
intelligence.” Since then all previous political surveillance roles for the military,
except those of the “observation activities [genuinely] related to security and
measures”, were formally abolished. The President urged that "financial matters,
(and) ongoing duties of the Agency will be settled by the TNI Chief Commander in
one month, followed by a report to the President afterwards."340 This implies that
the President recognized that in the past there had been distortion by the New
Order government through these institutions in defining and handling what the
regime viewed as threats by the citizens against the state.341
339
See Chapter Four, Interviews M89, M53.
See “Sudomo: Seharusnya sudah dilakukan dari dulu” (Sudomo: it should have been done long ago),
Kompas, 9 March 2000.
341
The military itself realized this distortion. The Jawa Pos, a local newspaper, published an apology from the
Military Area Commander in Chief, Pangdam Maj.Gen. Sudi Silalahi, to the East Java people after the abolition of
Bakorstanasda. See Jawa Pos, 6 April 2000.
340
133
De facto, however, the Bakorstanasda (the local, regional and district, versions of
the Bakorstanas) and Litsus had already effectively ceased to operate before the
announcement. As discussed in Chapter Five they had been ineffective since the
May 1998 reform movements. Bakorstanasda did not and could not act to curb
mob attacks on Chinese in Surabaya and Jember, land takeovers by the villagers,
or Dukun Santét and Ninja murders. Also, the Litsus had no longer been applied
to vet the candidates in the 1999 general election.342 Despite this, however, as in
the case of the Wansospol, concerns about the abolition of the Bakorstanasda
and Litsus included the possibility of the resurrection of “Communist groups”,
including in power struggles to get into the top positions of the local governmental
institutions.343 Nevertheless, at the national level, the State Intelligence (Bakin)
Chief, Lt. General Arie J. Kumaat said, that the "cancellation of these rules will not
relax our alertness in the job. We will coordinate all intelligence activities in an
effective way to guard the country”.344 The Bakorstanasda and Litsus had been
considered to be important parts of both political and also intelligence instruments.
In the past, military territorial commanders had strong power in local intrainstitution relations because of their utilization of these instruments.
Unlike Wansospol, these institutions also had dealt intensively with problems at
the regional and local levels, including social and communal conflicts. They also
stored much information vital to the maintenance of the security and stability of the
New Order regime. Therefore, the abolition of these institutions would contribute to
a significant reduction in political influence. The importance of this elimination was
that they were formally liquidated, so it closed any legal road to revive and restore
them. Remarkably, in constrast with the foreshadowed liquidation of the Staf
Sospol and WanSospol, the abolition of the Bakorstanasda and Litsus had never
been outlined in the military internal-reform programs. One respondent said that
this was because the military have never thought that the potential for resurrection
of the “latent communist threats” (bahaya laten komunis) had diminished345 - the
342
Unlike during the New Order era, legislature candidates were no longer required to pass the special
screenings which were carried out by the Territorial Commands and Bakorstanasda. Thus, there were no longer
those who were declared unacceptable by being categorized as ‘unclean’ in terms of Communist influence.
343
Interviews M4, M3, M33.
344
See “Sudomo: Seharusnya sudah dilakukan dari dulu” (Sudomo: It should have been done long ago),”
Kompas, 9 March 2000.
345
Interview M11. In a meeting between the Resort Military Command (KREM) of Surabaya with social and
informal leaders of Sampang Regency, the Commander, Colonel Bambang Suratmo, made clear that “TNI
134
threat that the Bakorstanas and Litsus had been originally directed to counter
when they were originally created in 1988 and 1990 respectively. Therefore,
looking at how easy it was for President Wahid to abolish these institutions but
how important they were in the military’s view, an argument can be made that the
military position at that point of time was very weak, not only against the public346
as discussed in Chapter Five, but also against the new President (especially in the
first year of Wahid’s presidency).347
The liquidation of Staf Sospol, Wansospol, Bakorstanasda and Litsus removed
political elements attached to the military institutions, or depoliticized them. The
following section is about removing military elements within the civilian institutions,
or demilitarizing them.
3. Demilitarization of Political Institutions
Two important policies of demilitarization that significantly reduced the military
political power within the civilian political institutions were the withdrawal of military
officers from the civilian local government bureaucracies (Pemda), and the
reduction (and foreshadowed abolition) of military seats in the local parliaments
(DPRD).
3.1. Withdrawal from the government bureaucracy
On 15 February 1999, the Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces, General
Wiranto, signed a Decision (Decree No. Kep/03/P/II/1999) to withdraw all military
active-duty officers from civilian jobs. The Decree stated that personnel were given
rejected abolishing MPR (Congress) Decree/TAP MPRS No. XXV/1966” that disbanded communism in
Indonesia. See Jawa Pos 1 May 2000.
346
People’s actions against the military were sporadically still taking place in 2000. In Jombang, for example, the
President’s original town, the Bupati, Retired Colonel Affandi and his staff were held as hostages for three hours
by a mob under the coordination of KMPR/Komite Mahasiswa Peduli Rakyat (Student Committee for Care of the
People). The mob demanded land re-distribution, abolition of Territorial Commands and an increase in labor
welfare.
347
A month after the abolition of Bakorstanas and Litsus, President Wahid led a “Loyalty Roll Call” (Apel
Kesetiaan) of 15,000 NU BANSER militia, the supporters of the President, in front of the HQ of KODAM V
Brawijaya, Surabaya. See Jawa Pos, 22 May 2000. This could be seen as a show of force by the President to the
military.
135
three choices: to come back to their military units; to retire early; or to change their
status from military to civilian servants at the same level.348 Those in the positions
of local government leaders as Bupati or Mayors mostly chose to be retired early
and run for a second term in elections for a second five year period in office).349
(No one in fact successfully achieved the extension.350) Most officers who were
not local government leaders returned to their military units, a small number
transferred to become civil servants.351 By mid-August 2000, in East Java there
were no longer any active military officers serving as the Heads of local
government Executives, except Col. Indarto, the Bupati of Tuban, who retired in
2001.352 There were also no longer any officers assigned to be the Chiefs of
Kansospol (Social-Political Offices), Heads of Organda (Local Transportation),
Heads of PDAM (Perusuhan Daerah Air Minum, Local Drinking Water
Companies), Heads of Terminal (Bus Stations), Heads of Pasar (Main Markets),
Parking Managers or other local government positions with political or economic
clout. By comparison, in 1997 thirty three of the Province’s thirty seven Regency
and City Government leaders had been military officers, while hundreds of others
controlled the other jobs mentioned above.
Even though in general the withdrawal from most staff positions took up to a
year353, the withdrawals from the Bupati and Mayor positions, the top District
leaders, were not completed until 2003, for example, in the Regencies of
Bangkalan, Bojonegoro, Nganjuk, Pasuruan, Probolinggo and Jombang.
Although the Bupatis were already formally retired from the military, they were still
the same persons, and could still have the same political perceptions and
behaviour. The ways the demilitarizing reforms were carried out, therefore, to a
great extent depend on those persons. Also, in maintaining power, they may have
seen that their individual interests could no longer mainly rely on the supports from
348
Keputusan Menhankam/Pangab Nomor Kep/03/P/II/1999, issued 15 February 1999. Cover of this document
is shown in the Appendix 17.
349
Interview M43.
350
For further details see Chapter Seven, Section 3.
351
Interviews M43, M112.
352
The case of Colonel Indarto became controversial after he was increasingly accused of
corruption before the Tuban Bupati Election. See for example, “Pangdam Persilahkan Periksa
Bupati Tuban” Jawa Pos, 29 April 2000. See also Jawa Pos, 20 May 2000 about permission given
by the Regional Military Commander, Pangdam Silalahi, for the investigation of Indarto’s case.
353
According to one respondent, an ex-Chief of the Kansospol in a Regency Government, the officers were given
a maximum of one year to decide their preferences. Interview M43.
136
the military institutions but they would need to build relations with other social
forces, although this by no means required they have no important relations,
which could be in political, economic or other forms, with the military. Until 2003 in
those Regencies the withdrawal simply involved changing the status of the top
leaders from active-service to retired military officers, instead of completely
eliminating the links between the military and the centres of local political power.
One respondent who used to work as the Chief of the Kansospol in a Regency
Government said that the withdrawal from civilian institutions was the “primary
step” that indicated the military commitment to leave direct political roles.354 Given
the past occupation by the military officers of the top leaderships of the local
governments and strategic (politically and economically) positions of the chiefs of
staff (as discussed in Chapter Three), the impact of the withdrawal from local
bureaucracies was the abolition of the military’s presence and direct control over
the local government executives’ policies – through which political power and
economic resources were directed. Thus, the withdrawal was a big cut of the
control of power in both political and economic senses.
In addition, because the military-executive relations can be seen as the military’s
political support to the bureaucracy, the withdrawal could mean becoming free
from political obligations. A retired military respondent who was an ex-Dandim
(Military District Commander) said that when he became Dandim the main
indicators of whether or not he was successful in doing his job were: first, whether
or not the Golkar ruling party won the election within his commanding area;
second, whether or not the Bupati was happy about the way he secured the
government’s development programs; and third, in relation to the second, whether
or not his superiors were happy about his “territorial capabilities” (kemampuan
nge-ter). This Nge-ter “capability” refers to the degree of socializing with local
politicians and businessmen and the amount of “money” (setoran) sent to the
superiors as the fruits of this “socialization”.355 In this sense, his relationship with
the bureaucracy was in giving political support more than one of political control.
Nevertheless, because mostly both the military and the executive leaders were
354
Interview M29. This was confirmed by another ex-Chief of the Kansospol in another Regency, Interview B15.
The respondent was a former Dandim, Interview M113. Similar explanations were also given by another
former Dandim. Interview M 50.
355
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from the same source, the officer corps, the withdrawal meant the decline of
power, regardless of whether it was seen as a control or support. This was
especially true for the case of the leaders of the executives.
As already mentioned, local power used to be concentrated in the local
government executive. In this sense, the military withdrawal from the local
government bureaucracy meant a sharp decline in the military’s political influence
in terms of inter-institutional controls – over other local institutions such as
legislative and judiciary bodies – as well as over the community. The structure of
formal authority at the District level, for example, was clearly characterized by the
strong top-down control by the Bupati or Mayor who was also usually the most
senior Colonel among other Heads of local institutions. A retired-military officer
respondent who had been the Speaker of a local Assembly’s F-ABRI in 1998
reported to me that until 1998 “everything” (apapun) was determined by “the
Mayor” (Pak Wali) who was the most senior retired-Colonel. This Speaker of the
DPRD was also a retired-Colonel but junior to him. Both the Military District
Commander as well as the Chief of the District Police were Lieutenant Colonels,
and were clearly junior players obliged to support the Mayor.356 In informal forums
such as the Muspida357 too, the position of the Bupati or Mayor was very strong.
After the reforms, under civilian leaderships, the Muspida still exist, but the military
can no longer dominate or steer them. The Dandim was the only military officer left
in the forum, and instead of controlling, he was now the one being controlled and
watched by others.358 One respondent revealed that recently the Dandim was
rarely present at the local Muspida forum; instead, he delegated his chief of the
Intelligence Section, a Captain, to attain the Muspida meetings.359 The Muspida
allowance (Uang Muspida) was still distributed every month directly to the
Commanders, not to those who were delegated to attend.360 However, its value
was small (around Aus $300) – though for many of the local Indonesians that
would be a lot of extra money for turning up to meetings of a council – and there
356
The respondent was a former Chairman of an F-ABRI. Interview M11.
Detailed description about the Muspida is given in Chapter Three.
358
Interview M32.
359
The respondents were staff of a Bakesbang. Interview B12.
360
The respondent was the Chief of a Regency Government’s Finance Sub-Division. Interview B13.
357
138
was no more “additional” (ceperan) fund assistance from the local executive
because the military was no longer controlling the relations.
In Chapters Nine and Ten, about the impact of this withdrawal on the local military
as well as on the military’s abilities to control the outcomes of the local elections, it
is clear that the withdrawal did significantly cut down the military’s direct control
over the local governments, though the speed of the process varied from one
District to another. For example, in Ngawi Regency, where in 1999 a civilian
successfully replaced a military leader as the Bupati, the process of de-militarizing
the civilian government bureaucracy was carried out more quickly than in
Pasuruan, where the replacement of the retired-military Bupati took place in 2003.
So, the withdrawal abolished military presence in and direct control over the local
executive body where local political power and economic resources were
concentrated, minimized the military’s control (through the executive leader
position) over other local institutions (legislature and judiciary bodies), and reduced
the central military’s control (through its local units) over local politics.
3.2. Eliminating military representatives’ seats in the local Assemblies
The elimination of the military representatives from the local parliaments in 2004
was preceded by the reduction of the number of the military seats from 20 percent
to 10 percent with the completion of the 1999 general election.361 Without an
alliance with Golkar this number was very weak,362 especially compared to
factions such as the F-DIP or F-KB which occupied around a half or even in some
areas took around two thirds of the total seats.363 In terms of the leadership of the
local Assemblies (DPRD) too, there was a significant decrease on the side of the
military. While they used to dominate the leadership positions including the
361
The allocation of ten percent guaranteed around 3 to 5 of a total 20 to 45 seats. In the Regencies or Cities with
populations of more than a half million, their DPRD had 45 members with 5 of them from the F-TNI/POLRI
(formerly the F-ABRI). Those with a population below a half million had 20–30 members, with 3 of them from the
F-TNI/POLRI.
362
As part of the TNI’s Internal Reform, in April 1999 the TNI decided to cease its relation with Golkar, the New
Order ruling party in which the territorial commanders used to be the Head of the local Dewan Pembina (Directive
Boards), and military families used to be members of Golkar’s local branch leaderships or members of the Golkar
faction in the local legislature.
363
In the Regency of Magetan, for example, the PDIP occupied 22 of 45 seats in the DPRD; in Madiun 20 of 45;
in Situbondo the PKB was elected to 25 of the 45; in Sampang 25 of 45 members. In other Districts the PDIP and
PKB won more or less the same number of seats with about one third each.
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Chairmen or Speakers of DPRD or the chairmen of committees, in East Java after
1999 there have been no longer military officers serving as Chairman of any
DPRD, and only a small number of the DPRDs that chose a military officer as one
of the three Deputies of their Chairman (and these are mostly unimportant
positions). Since such positions were chosen by voting, the failure of the officers to
win positions was closely related to the faction’s small number of seats and their
relative lack of non-factional appeal.
In addition to the factors of the cessation of relations with Golkar364 which replaced
most of the members of military families and relatives from the parliamentary
representatives of this faction, the decrease in the influence of the military in the
over three dozen DPRD across the Province was also caused by other factors.
These included the increasing resistance of the public to the existence of the
military in the DPRD365 and the decrease of the military’s institutional support to
the individual military representatives in the DPRD as a consequence of the
central military’s commitment to leave politics. This last factor will be discussed
more in Chapter Eight and Nine and , but it is important to note here that it created
conflicts of interests internally among the military elements, and reduced its
solidarity, cohesiveness and bargaining power against other components in the
many and various DPRD.
The recruitment of the members of F-TNI/POLRI seems also to have changed
and this contributed to the faction’s declined influence. Before 1999 the military
Headquarters sent at least Lieutenant Colonels who had considerable political
experience and knowledge to occupy positions at the DPRD. After 1999 the
Headquarters sent lower rank officers, mainly Captains and Majors,366 and from
2001 they also sent First and Second Lieutenants, the lowest rank of military
officers, and with very little, or no, previous experience in politics.367 By 2003, the
year before the military representation was to end, only around twenty percent of
the remaining representatives were Lieutenant Colonels. Most of those were
364
The military-Golkar relations during the New Order are described in Chapter Three.
Interviews M4, M51.
366
According to a respondent this was because the military did not see the military positions in the DPRD as
important anymore, the position was only to fulfill what the Law required about staying in the DPRD until 2004.
367
This was found for example in the Regencies of Bangkalan, Pamekasan and Magetan.
365
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about to retire from military service, and were usually less committed to the
military units they had come from but were more individually focused and money
oriented.368 A long-serving politician suggested to me in 2003 that the quality of
the military representatives was much worse than the previous ones. He
described them as “following their own paths” and “more ignorant of public
aspirations”, adding that the officers frequently “ignored the aspirations of the
military units”, for example, over issues such as allocation of security funds
assistance from the local government budget (APBD) for the units.369 One F-KB
politician viewed the decline of the military’s political role in the DPRD as a
consequence of decreasing support and control from the KODAM the Territorial
Command. Unlike during the Soeharto era when the Regional KODAM very
tightly controlled the military representatives, now it did not set specific political
targets for them. Consequently, the attitudes of the military officers in the
legislature, as described by the respondent, “tend to be wait and see, less
motivated, and less initiative”, especially in terms of responding to the public’s
aspirations.370
Manshur371, a senior Golkar politician, expressed to me his concern about the low
quality of members of the F-TNI/POLRI in the DPRD of Batang City. He regarded
them as “too innocent”, and “too conservative” for today political conditions. For
example, he said, it has become common strategy for civilian politicians to
mobilize their constituents to come to the DPRD prior or after Assembly meetings,
with the constituents’ voices being used to support the politicians’ positions on
certain issues such as development projects because the politicians had individual
interests in the projects. Another example, he said, was when some groups of
politicians collaborated in advancing their interests; group A asked group B to
propose A’s interest in an Assembly forum, and in return, A would propose B’s
368
This was reported by a young officer respondent who had experiences with what he called “unpleasant
attitudes” (prilaku memalukan). Interview M51.
369
The respondent, who was also a member of the Golkar faction, pointed out two examples of military
aspirations for which they should have been active, but did not appear interested: one was the debates on annual
budget allocations for security operations by the local KODIM and Polres, the local military and police units; the
second was about financial or equipment assistance for these units. Instead of the F-TNI/POLRI, it was the FGolkar which had tried hard to support the proposals in many occasions. Civilian (Golkar’s DPRD Member)
Interview G5.
370
Civilian (PKB’s DPRD Member) Interview K2.
371
Manshur, a senior politician from Golkar and the Chairman of the DPRD of Batang City, said that he had
worked for than twenty years as a Member of the DPRD, and used to be very close to members of the FTNI/POLRI (previously the F-ABRI).
141
interest. Also, he said, political negotiations with the executive that involved bribes,
pressures or other dirty tricks had been usual among the civilian politicians. In his
stated opinion, the young officers, the military representatives, in the three
examples just mentioned were unable “to differentiate between which ones are
real demonstrations and which ones are not; to identify who speaks for whom, or
to understand why the executive agrees or disagrees with an arrangement” that in
these officers’ view was illogical. The current military representatives were “much
less skilful politically” than the current civilian politicians. 372
However, despite their decreased power, the continued presence of the military
representatives in the DPRD until 2004 considerably complicated the efforts of
withdrawing them from direct political roles that had been started in 1999 in the
immediately post-New Order reformasi period. As with the members of other
factions, the F-TNI/POLRI remained involved in reviewing, planning and
evaluating the local government policies, and even got involved in the power
politics in the process of local elections for the Bupati or Mayors’ positions. How
this complicated the efforts in specific cases is discussed in detail in Chapter
Seven. Here it suffices to say that there was serious confusion among the
members of military factions about what the military neutrality position being drawn
by the central leaderships meant in actual practice, especially in relation to their
own DPRD jobs. Generally speaking, on one hand, the military institution was
committed to a neutral position with the faction’s individual members given
freedom to take political positions. On the other hand, they were told that their
memberships in the DPRD were military assignments (penugasan) so they were
to represent the military institution, not the people. Therefore, they would have to
obey what the institution told them.
This ambiguity was interpreted differently and loosely by different members in
accordance with their individual interests. Some officers viewed their status in the
DPRD as a “duty appointment” (penugasan), which meant representing the
military rather than as a “representative” (perwakilan) of the people. These
different views seem to affect the degree of their attachment and loyalty to the
372
Interview G77.
142
military. Which interests they attempted to support, whether the military’s or the
civilians’ when conflicts arose between them, would depend partly on their
different perceptions and could therefore be different for different people. For
example, those such as Lieutenant Colonel (Police) Dwi Usyanto from the FTNI/POLRI, the Deputy of the Chairman of the Madiun Regency DPRD,
emphasised that because the nature of the officers’ tasks at the DPRD was an
appointment from their institution, they had to be committed to the mission the
institutions intend to achieve. They had to follow the “sistem komando” (the
command system) outlined by the institution, and work for the interests of the
institutions.373 In contrast, others, such as Lieutenant Colonel Paulus, the
Chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI of the Sidoarjo Regency DPRD suggested that
once the officers start working at the DPRD, they had to think of themselves as
being representatives of the people because they were members of a DPRD
(Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat Daerah/Local House of People’s Representatives),
not “perwakilan militer” (representatives of the military). Paulus, who was about to
retire, did not agree with the idea that the officers at the DPRD had to primarily
promote the interests of the military.374
Whether or not they represented the people could also be questionable. Bambang
Sunggono, a politician from the F-PAN of the Jember Regency DPRD and also a
lecturer at the Islamic University of Jember, criticized the fact that it was discernible
that “because of the majority of members of DPRD from the military are not
originally from the local area, they appear to be less attached to the local
people.”375 In fact, more than ninety percent of these officers did not come from
the Regencies or Cities where they had become DPRD members.376 Unlike the
373
Interview M102.
At the time of interview the respondent was in conflict with the KODAM HQ over his replacement due to his
membership period having exceeded his retirement date by 6 months. Interview M49. One respondent in the
DPRD Secretariat mentioned that the Provincial Headquarters had three times sent an officer to ask for the
replacement of this retired officer, but the DPRD had not responded positively because the replacement would
change the constellation of politics in the DPRD. Besides, according to the respondent, he had lobbied the
Chairman of the DPRD to not sign the letter of agreement for the replacement. Interview B107.
375
Interview A46.
376
For example, in the DPRD of Blitar City, 1999-2004, none of the three members of the F-TNI/POLRI were
from Blitar. One was born in Yogyakarta and lived in Malang, two hours by car from Blitar; one was born in
Jombang and stayed temporarily in Blitar; and another one was born in Boyolali in Central Java and lived in
Surabaya, four hours by car from Blitar. Another example was in Pasuruan City where of the three members of
the F-TNI/POLRI, none was born or stayed there. Similar cases were found in most districts. See data from
Asosiasi DPRD Kota Seluruh Indonesia (All-Indonesia Association of City DPRD). Internet source:
www.adeksi.or.id.
374
143
civilian members of the DPRD, who must be permanent residents of the
Regencies or Cities, the officers did not have to be and they stayed in them only
some days a week, but spent most of their time elsewhere. This is one reason
why the way they experienced and understood local societies’ problems was
different. While the civilian Assembly members seemed to be more attached to
their local constituents, the officers seemed to be less so.377 Unlike the civilians
who realized that their performance at the DPRD would affect their constituents’
trust, and thus affect their future political career, the military officers did not have
accountability to any such local constituency.
This section has shown that there were several important factors that reduced the
military power in the DPRD: the cutting of military seats by a half; the termination
of military relations with Golkar; the departure of military officers from DPRD
leaderships; the change in the recruitment that treated military representative jobs
as less important for the military headquarters; the different/unclear interpretations
of their job by the faction members (between “penugasan” and “perwakilan”); and
the growing public resistance to any military presence in the DPRD. In what ways
this reduction of power affected military power in local politics will be discussed
more especially in Chapter Seven and Eight about the elections of District Heads.
4. Impact of Decentralization on the local military
The process of democratization in Indonesia has involved a decentralization378 of
government that loosened the very tight control of the central over the local
governments. As discussed below, this decentralization had also affected the civilmilitary relations at the local levels in several ways. First, it eliminated the
existence of the military-created political office (Kansospol) within the local
governments. Second, it minimized the effectiveness of the Muspida in which the
military commanders used to have access to the local institutions. Third, it
minimized the roles of the military in the local elections. Fourth, it cut the link
between the District and the Provincial levels, thus minimizing the opportunity for
377
Interview A46.
Decentralization was regulated by the Law No. 22/1999 on Regional Autonomy and the Law No.25/1999 on
the Regional Government’s Finance. Both Laws were produced during the Habibie Presidency, but became
effective in January 2000 during the President Abdurrahman Wahid period.
378
144
the higher Military Commands at the Provincial level to maintain their interests
within the District-level governments. Fifth, Law No 25/1999 about the
decentralisation of financial allocations ruled out any possibility that the local
government budget could be overtly devoted to defence and security funding
assistance. Each of these is discussed below.
4.1. Liquidation of the Kansospol
The Law No. 22/1999 on Regional Autonomy specified functions and encouraged
the restructuring of the local governments. This ruled out the existence of the
Kansospol
and
created
the
Bakesbang
(Badan
Kordinasi
Kesatuan
Bangsa/Coordinating Body for National Unity) in its place. As discussed above,
the occupation of the position of the Head of Kansospol by military officers was
ended by the military withdrawal programs, yet the existence of the Kakansospol
itself was put to an end only after the Autonomy Law became effective in January
2000. The new body was very different from the previous Kansospol in that, for
example, there was no longer a section for the Litsus (Special Screening) which
had been a vital element in the Kansospol structure. New elements such as the
Sub-bagian Masalah Strategis dan Pemasyarakatan HAM (Subdivision for
Strategic Problems and Human Rights Dissemination) was also added. Unlike the
Kansospol, the Bakesbang was not given specific political tasks, so it had no
political authority over government employees.379
It also has changed the way the governments have relations with political parties
and organizations. According to the Chief of the Malang City Bakesbang, the
government “no longer supervised” the political parties but now regards them as
“the partners” of the government, thus the relations have formally changed from
superior-inferior to equal. The government, consequently, no longer has
responsibility in “assisting financial matters” of the organizations. Unlike in the past,
the financial assistances can no longer used as a weapon by the government to
justify its involvement in the “internal matters” of the organizations and to play one
group against another. The organizations now are “free to gather and to speak up”
379
Interview G6.
145
about their political inspiration and aspirations, and the bureaucracy too can
concentrate on its service to the public.380 According to one respondent, who was
an official of the Malang Regency Bakesbang, the most important impact of the
liquidation of the Kansospol had been “the diminishing of the military’s political
channel” in the bureaucratic structure.381 Yet, as suggested by another official of
the same Bakesbang, some degree of intelligence coordination with the Military
Command is still carried out. This is through a District-level forum called the
FKI/Forum Kordinasi Intelijen (Intelligence Coordination Forum) and involves
intelligence elements among the Muspida members, such as the Intelligence
Section of the KODAM (District Military Command), of the Polres (District Police),
of the Local Attorney General, of the Local Judiciary, and of the Bakesbang. The
Forums (one in every District) meet regularly once a month to discuss “social
security issues”.382 Despite this, the respondent also said that the meeting is “not
as intensive as when the Kansospol existed”. The issues shared in the discussion
were very limited because the current Bakesbang no longer did the Special
Screening (Litsus) and no longer collected intelligence information directly. In
addition, he admitted that although the top leaders of the local institutions
(Muspida members) had become the members of the FKI they rarely attended the
forum in person but sent the Chief of their respective Intelligence Sections who
came and then reported to them afterwards.383 So, as shown by the creation of
the FKI forums the military’s direct channel into the Bakesbang was not fully
eliminated, but the scope of relations has been very much limited compared with
the old Kansospol.
4.2. Changing Relations between the District Government’s Executive and
Legislature
The previous Law on Local Government, Law No 5/1974, which had operated
during and as an important element of the New Order, dictated that Local
Government (Pemerintahan Daerah) consisted of the bureaucratic Executive and
380
Interview B9.
The respondent was a former staff member of a Kansospol and a lecturer at a private university in Malang.
Interview B12.
382
The respondent was a staff member of the FKI. Interview B114.
383
Interview B114.
381
146
the parliamentary Legislature (DPRD).384 In practice, however, the Executive
controlled the Legislature; the latter was dependent on the former and became
solely a rubber-stamp body that would justify legally all policies and their
implementation as initiated by the Executive.385 The new Law No. 22/1999 gave
more power to the Legislature to control the Executive.386 As will be discussed in
Chapter Eleven, the logical consequence would be a significant change in the
relations, from subordinate to superior (or equal) on the part of the Legislature. In
reality, in many cases tensions and conflicts increased between these two local
arms of local government.
The impacts on the military were in at least two areas: the resulting ineffectiveness
of the Muspida, through which the military had previously benefited from interinstitutional relations, and the more complicated procedure now needed to get
financial assistance from the local government. Regarding the Muspida, like the
limited FKI forum discussed above, the increased political conflicts between
Executives and Legislatures prompted the Executive Heads to become reluctant
to use the Muspida forum. They could have needed this forum more than they
needed it in the New Order era because through it they could have moderated the
stronger (than in the New Order) resistance from the Legislature; but in many
cases in reality the conflicts moved the two bodies away from each other, to attack
each other, instead of bringing them (the Bupatis or Mayors heading the
Executives and the Chairmen of the DPRDs) to sit together in the Muspida forum.
Psychological barriers, with each treating the other as the enemy not as a partner
and being highly suspicious of each other, hindered the re-vitalizing of the
Muspida forum.387 As one District Commander said, he not only “felt left out” in
dealing with local problems which were in many cases strongly related to security
matters,388 but also had no coordinating forum through which the commanders
could “communicate [their] concern” and advise how and in what ways the military
could “contribute to the finding of the solutions” to those problems.389 This can be
384
A copy of this document is held by the author.
See Chapter Three.
386
Law No. 22/ 1999 about Regional Autonomy.
387
The new feature of the executive-legislature relations is presented in the last section of Chapter Eleven.
388
The security matters he meant were growing criminalities; indicating he was still seeing the military as primarily
responsible for handling the internal security that was supposed to have been handed over to the police.
389
The respondents were active-service Military District Commanders. Interviews M32, M55. This was confirmed
by a civilian politician (Golkar Party member). Interview G5.
385
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given either positive and negative, or mixed, interpretations. In a positive view, it
could be understood as the military having realized that they were no longer
regarded as the most responsible and most capable body to solve the social and
political problems in their command areas; they could no longer act as the
initiators and the leading authorities without the consent of the civilian authorities;
and the civilian authorities were no longer dependent on the military. In a negative
view, however, with so many problems left unresolved, this could be highlighting
the weakness of the civilian political leadership: lacking coordination, indecisive,
and lacking capacity to solve social and political conflicts, and with this weakness
tending to encourage the use of violence as political pressure (as discussed in
more detail in Chapter Eleven). The latter possibility would thus preserve the
importance of the military as the political and security back-up for either side.
With respect to the procedures for getting financial assistance from the
bureaucracy that had became more complicated, the military now had to
approach both the Executive and the Legislature when they needed assistance
from the local government. Similarly to the previous Laws on local government,
Law No 25/1999, the new financial law for the budgeting of local government, did
not mention explicitly how the local military units would get access to financial
assistance from the local government. However, in the past, whether or how the
military would get the money from the local government depended mainly on the
Heads of the Districts’ Executives who were mostly military officers. Now, these
local government Heads were under close surveillance by their DPRD.390 If the
financial assistance were to be allocated through the annual Local Government
Budget (APBD) the military needed channels into the DPRD through which their
lobbying could be done in order to prevent or overcome expected, and forewarn of
unexpected, resistance; while other lobbying needed to be carried out to the
executives who would be proposing the budget to the DPRD.391 Yet if the financial
assistance were to be given by the local government by allocations from, for
example, the Bupati’s Discretionary Fund (Dana Rumah Tangga Bupati) which
could however be very limited, the military needed good relations with the Head of
390
391
Interview M11.
Interviews M55, M51, M33, G5.
148
the Executive and also assurances that there would be no legal or political
problems which could be initiated by the DPRD or opposition groups.392
As shown in Chapter Three, in the past such problems could be deliberated within
the forum of the Muspida; and political opinion could be designed in harmonized
ways so that the protests from DPRD members, for example, could be
countered.393 The better governance and transparency demanded by the new
system had decreased possibilities of financial mismanagement or other covert
management, including unclear financial allocations for the defence and security
apparatus. Although collusions among the actors might be still possible, yet the
ways they would have to be done had become more complicated.
4.3. Changing Regulations for the Local Elections
As noted, in the past the dominant role of the military in determining the outcomes
of the local elections was a consequence of the military’s dominant positions in
both the Executive and Legislative arms of local government, as well as the
regulations that made it possible. The new Regulations that were based on the
Autonomy Law No 22/1999 ruled out the possibility of serving military officers
being registered as Bupati or Mayoral Candidates before quitting from the service.
Previously, the officers intended to register as candidates were only required to
have formal permission from their superiors, but after late 2000 they were required
to fully resign from the military service before their registration.
Similarly, the military factions (F-TNI/ POLRI) that had been halved since 1999 but
still existed in the DPRDs until 2004 were not allowed to propose any candidate
(either civilian or military) from their own faction’s members.394 However, as
discussed in Chapter Seven, the absence of the military’s proposal for their ownchosen candidates caused the members of the F-TNI/ POLRI to become “wild
392
The respondent was a Regency Government Secretary. Interview B14.
As Chapter Three mentions, forums such as a Half Cameral Forum (Forum Setengah Kamar), or Quarter
Cameral Forum (Forum Seperempat Kamar), used to be employed, as initial meetings prior to a general meeting
with all DPRD members, to persuade those members of the local elites who might oppose certain policies.
394
The Central Military HQ issued an instruction about the prohibition of the military faction from proposing any
candidate. A copy of this instruction is held by the author.
393
149
players” (pemain liar) who other civilian factions competed to make alliances with
in order to support their own positions.395 In this sense, the new rule did not
always achieve the goal originally intended, to neutralize the F-TNI/POLRI
members, but more deeply involved them individually and informally, though not
institutionally or formally. The important factors that caused this were not limited to
the military, but also to the interests of the civilian political groups (see further
discussion in Chapter Seven).
Another change that indirectly reduced the possibility of the military intervening in
the election process was the new limitation put into the involvement of the Minister
of Home Affairs and the Provincial Governors. In the past these posts were
always held by military generals. The previous regulations made it possible for
those officials to determine the outcomes of local elections to suit their
preferences.396 Now the positions of Minister of Home Affairs and in many areas
the Governors were occupied by retired generals. It would be mistaken to suggest
that these retired generals always represent the military institutions, but it is also
misleading to conclude that there would be no political link that might tie them to
their former institution. So, the importance of the change in the Local Election
Regulation is that it attempted to minimize rather than completely eliminate the
use of such ties to steer the outcomes of the elections.
395
396
Interviews K58, A46, M103.
This is described in more detail in Chapter Seven.
150
4.4. Changing lines of communications between the Provincial and
the District governments
The new Autonomy Law authorizes District Governments to communicate directly
with the Central Government without the consent of the Provincial Government.397
This reduced the power of the Provincial Government officials in many internal
matters of the Districts. Zig-zag communications398 between the military
commanders and the heads of local governments – involving the two levels – that
had prevailed in the past were partly caused by the strong position of a Province
over the Districts within it. The Law’s reduction of the Province’s power
consequently reduced, for example, the possibilities of a (Provincial) Pangdam
using his authority to intervene in the relations between the (District) Bupatis or
Mayors with (larger District) Danrems or (smaller District) Dandims. The District
Governments have become less attached politically to the Provincial Governors
and the Pangdam thus have become more independent but more separated from
other government powers.399 The weakening positions of the KODAM against the
Districts can be seen, for example, in the cases of replacing the military
representatives in the District DPRDs. In these cases the Pangdam, the
Commander in Chief of the KODAM, could no longer determine the replacements
based on the interests of the military even when some officers serving in the
DPRDs had retired. Such cases were found for example in Sampang, Sidoarjo
and Mojokerto Regencies. In the Sidoarjo case the officer had been retired for
almost 6 months but had not been replaced because the DPRD had not agreed to
the replacement because it would “affect the local balance of power in the DPRD”.
A similar reason was expressed by the DPRD in Sampang that was in the
process of preparing for the local election when the Pangdam requested the
replacement.400
Another example could also be seen in the TMD/TNI Masuk Desa (Soldiers Go
Into the Villages) programs. Some DPRD at District level refused to support the
397
See Law No. 22/1999 about Local Autonomy.
See Chapter Three.
399
Interviews M43, M68.
400
Copies of documents of the correspondence about the replacements are held by the author, the original
document by the Sampang DPRD.
398
151
financial needs of the programs as requested by the KODAM. For example, such
cases were found in Bangkalan and Malang Regencies. The reasons advanced
by their DPRD members were not only because it was not authorized by the Law
No 25/1999 about Financial Allocations of Local Government, but also because
“the locations and aims or activities” of the TMD were “rarely communicated” by
the military to the local governments and their respective local area
communities.401 Whatever the possible reasons might have been, such refusals
would have never happened in the past era; requests from the Provincial level
either by the military or civilian institutions would always have been obeyed by the
Districts.
5. Conclusion
This chapter’s account of institutional reforms shows that the liquidation of political
elements attached to the military territorial structures, the withdrawal of military
officers from local bureaucracy and from DPRD, as well as the decentralization,
have largely separated the military from civilian institutions, which this separation
involving the establishing of clearer boundaries between the “military” and the
“civilian”. The reforms have also dismantled the military’s political networks,
involving a minimizing of the military power in local politics. However, as the
military presence in the local Parliaments remained until 2004, the military officers,
either as DPRD members or the commanding officers who supervised these
members, were still involved in several ways. As will be seen in the next two
chapters, in some DPRD these officers still played important roles in local
elections for instance, although it is also clear that their political power had
declined significantly, mainly because of the removal of most of the military’s
previous political networks.
Although the institutional changes were to a greater extent the result of the public
pressures discussed in the previous chapter, those pressures did not play vital
roles in defining how the changes would happen. The strong influence of the New
Order’s actors in outlining and implementing the agenda of the reforms since 1999
401
Interviews M81, G6.
152
such as when and how the military would withdraw from the executive and
legislative arms of local government made a total and rapid elimination that might
have been expected by some people seem very far from possible. So, it seems
that the five-year changes were more patterns of orderly and gradual changes
than abrupt ones. The result of the institutional reforms, nevertheless, have been
quite positive, the degree of the military direct links and controls over the civilian
political spheres has been reduced to a minimal level, and is by no means
comparable to those which were maintained during the New Order regime. The
next five chapters will demonstrate the ways these reform programs have had
impacts – on the military’s political activities at the local level, on the local military
units and personnel, and on the local civilian politics – both in encouraging and
discouraging ways to the future democracy in Indonesia.
153
Chapter Seven
MILITARY INVOLVEMENT IN ELECTIONS OF DISTRICT
GOVERNMENT HEADS (1): Towards declining effectiveness
[There is] … not much we [F-TNI/POLRI] can do apart from supporting
the majority, as we do not want to create difficulties in relationships with
the Bupatis both for the fraction [F-TNI/OLRI] and for the military units
stationed here.402
1. Introduction
Chapter Two has noted that democracy can be defined as a system where “most
powerful collective decision makers are selected through fair, honest, and periodic
elections in which candidates freely compete for votes”.403 This chapter presents
the example of how local government leaders, among the most powerful local
decision makers, were elected through the Pilkada/Pemilihan Kepala Daerah
(Local Heads Elections), the elections of the Heads of District Governments,404
and shows the decline of military political roles in this. Involvement in the Pilkada
had been a crucial political activity for the military in the New Order era because,
as suggested earlier, this helped maximize control over all aspects of local power,
social, political, economic or security, by the military occupying or controlling top
and strategic positions.405 Therefore, the declining role of the military in the Pilkada
meant an improvement of the democratic quality of these events.
The first section of this chapter shows how military officers, or civilians with strong
military connections, were placed in these positions. Specifically, it describes the
situation in which the Pilkada procedure, although appearing democratic on the
surface was actually a kind of manipulation of democratic concepts which
402
Interviews M79, M80.
See footnote 12 in p. 23.
404
Regents (Bupati) of the more rural Regency or Municipality (Kebupaten) and Mayors (Walikota) of the larger
City (Kotamadya) District Governments. The term ‘Districts’ will be used to refer generally to both Regencies and
Cities. Similarly, ‘District Heads’ will refer generally to both Regents/Bupati or Mayors. The terms ‘Regency’ and
‘Kabupaten’ have the same meaning and will be used interchangeably. Also ‘DPRD’, ‘Local Assembly’, ‘Local
Representative Assembly’, ‘Local Legislature’ or ‘Local Parliament’ all mean the same.
405
At District level the military occupied various jobs in the local bureaucracy, from the District Head to Parking
Manager (as described in Chapter Three).
403
154
guaranteed the continued hold over power. Although the Pilkada were not the only
local political activities which the military were engaged in, they were the most
observable political events. An account of the ways the military steered the
outcome of the 1998-2003 Pilkada gives an insight into how its political influence
had changed.
Various elements of the local political institutions, in the legislative, executive and
security apparatuses, were involved in this political activity. It attracted attention
from almost all elements of the respective local societies. Conveniently for this
research, it was widely publicized by mass-media and thus provided a wide range
of data resources. During the study’s five-year period all thirty eight Districts of the
East Java Province held Pilkada. All military factions406 (F-TNI/POLRI) of the
legislative Local Representative Assemblies (DPRD) of these Districts, as well as
all military territorial units such as the KODIM and KOREM stationed in the
Districts were in various degrees involved in the Pilkada. Because they were
under the authority of the East Java Provincial Military Area Command, KODAM V
Brawijaya, the roles played by the military in each District reflected the political
position of the military as an integrated institution.407
As will be shown later, the trend of change in the military role in Pilkada over the
five years from 1998 to 2003 has been in line with the broader development of
political circumstances. Since most reformist elites who led the 1998 anti-New
406
During the New Order, for ideological reasons the seats reserved in all parliaments for the military/police were
called a ‘fraction’ (fraksi) as the term ‘faction’ was not acceptable because of its divisive sectional implications. The
only groupings allowed in the Assemblies and national parliament were the military/police, Golkar (Golongan
Karya, Functional Groups, with membership based on civil servants), a single Islamic aggregate and a single nonIslamic aggregate. The latter were called either parties, the PPP (Partai Persatuan Pembangunan, the United
Development Party) and the PDI (Partai Demokrasi Indonesia, the Indonesian Democratic Party), or when sitting
in a parliament, factions, as in ‘F-PP’ and ‘F-DI’, with Golkar also known as ‘F-KP’ then, after the 1999 recognition
of parties, ‘F-Golkar’; Military/police representatives as the ‘F-ABRI’ (Fraksi-Angkatan Bersenjata Republik
Indonesia, Republic of Indonesia Armed Forces Faction) or, after the 1999 division between the two forces, ‘FTNI/POLRI (Fraksi - Tentara Negara Indonesia/Polisi Republik Indonesia, Indonesian National Army/Police
Faction).
407
Even though each Pilkada was held in a different District, the military elements in each District were not
isolated and independent actors. Their political perceptions and actions were influenced by the Pilkada which had
been held in the neighbouring Districts. It does not mean, however, that Pilkada in all Districts were always
connected in a fully continuous pattern. Different circumstances, times and areas, as well as actors, limited the
way the Pilkada in one District could be seen as a continuation of the trend shown by the previous ones. Yet the
fact that the military representatives came from the same institution and had to follow the same code of conduct
ruled by the military headquarters led to the ways they represented the institution in each District being linked from
one to another, and the ways civilian political groups dealt with them were learned also from this interconnection.
155
Order movements were only absorbed into the institutional system after the
completion of the 1999 election, the actors in the 1998-1999 Pilkada were still
mainly the continuing New Order elites. A significant change, however, marked
the relations between the military elites on one side and civilian Golkar elites on
the other. The Golkar position rapidly shifted from being a loyal supporter of the
military rule in the New Order era to being a competitor. During the next stage,
from 2000 onward, Pilkada cases demonstrate the diminishing of military political
domination, and in contrast, the growing power of the new groups of political elites.
The Pilkada cases in this period show that the decline of the military political
control had become widespread. In many cases the military appeared to be
reduced to becoming only a minor player, either because a single majority party
existed or two or more major factions formed a strong alliance and the military
faction was left out.
Before discussing the election cases of the post-New Order era it is
necessary to critically overview the previous system of District Head
election as practiced by the New Order regime. This overview focuses on
the roles of the military in that system, and provides a means to understand
the changes of the military role in the post-New Order system.
2. District elections in the New Order
In general, under the New Order the military role effectively ensured that
all District Head candidates who were proposed by the military – either
military officers or civilians close to the military – won the elections.
Through a chain of patronage power the military dominated all stages of
the election, from the selection and nomination of the candidates, their
approval by the Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA) prior to voting, to the
public voting by the Assembly members and the approval of the elected
candidate by the Governor and the MHA (see Chart VII.1 below).
156
According to Law No. 5/1974408 about Local Government, the local DPRD
could select and nominate three to five candidates who then had to be
proposed to the MHA for its approval. The MHA then decided three
candidates who could be elected by the Assembly members. When the
election had been completed, the election result had to be sent again to
the MHA for final approval. The following subsections discuss how these
stages worked and how the military controlled each stage.
Chart VII.1: Phases of local election according the Indonesian Law No.
5/1974.
The MHA approves
three candidates
and instructs the
DPRD to elect them
(II)
The Governor
endorses the
proposal
The Local Assembly (DPRD)
nominates three to five candidates
and proposes them through the
Governor to the Minister of Home
Affairs/MHA (I)
The MHA approves the
final result and issues
the Decree of
Assignment of the new
district head (IV)
The Provincial Governor
supervises
the election
DPRD elects and
proposes a final approval
through the Governor to
the MHA (III)
The Governor
endorses the
proposal
The Governor inaugurates
the elected candidate
408
The selection of the local government heads was regulated by the Law No. 5/1974, especially Chapter III,
Paragraph Five, points 14 to 21, and the regulation was detailed further by the Regulation of the Minister of Home
Affair No. 10/ 1974, about the procedure for the nomination, election and inauguration of local government heads.
157
Stage I: Selection and nomination
Technically, the procedure of selection and nomination was dominated by the
military through an election committee, called the Technical Committee (Panitia
Teknis). Key players in this committee were usually military officers, active or
retired. There were three key officials who could exercise strong influences: firstly,
the current District Head who set up the Committee and to whom it was
responsible; secondly, the Speaker/Chairman of the DPRD who chaired the
Committee; and thirdly, the Head of the Social and Political Office (Kansospol)409
of the District Government who was the key member of the Committee.410 In
addition to these three officials, outside the committee there were also several
actors, such as the local military commanders and other Muspida members who
worked to drive the outcomes according to the regime’s interests. Under the
direction of the executive leaders, who set up the Committee, these mostly
involved military officers and local elements of the New Order regime who were
well coordinated to ensure that all nominated candidates were supporters of the
existing government regime.
In formal terms, an open participation was offered to all eligible citizens to register
as a candidate for the position of District Head. In practice, however, as one
respondent said, an individual registration could hardly exist, either because of
“fears of being accused as surpassing the military’s preference”, or because of
“the Eastern cultural values that view negatively an individual ambition for power”.
The respondent said that a common practice at that time was, “a potential
candidate was asked to register by political or social organization(s), rather than a
409
For explanation of Kakansospol and Litsus see Chapter Six.
Around six months before the end of his office, the existing District Head (Regent/Mayor) would form the
Technical Committee (Panitia Teknis) that was responsible for the selection of candidates, mainly checking the
candidates’ “administration requirements”, and assessing which were ‘eligible’ and which were not. Among the
most important criteria for eligibility was loyalty to the state ideology of Panca Sila and the 1945 Constitution. The
degree of loyalty was assessed through a special screening (Litsus) which was carried out under the supervision
of the Chief of Kansospol, one of the members of the Committee. For an example of the Technical Committee,
see Appendix 9, about the Technical Committee for the Jember District Head election, 1993. Besides the Panitia
Teknis, there was a Special Committee (Panitia Khusus) that was formed by the Jember DPRD. It was
responsible for drafting the rules regarding the voting stage of the election (Tata Tertib Pemilihan), such as the
minimum number of DPRD members required to vote, the voting and the counting, the criteria for a valid vote, etc.
Like the Panitia Teknis, it was chaired by the Speaker of the DPRD, but its members were all the DPRD
members. Yet, unlike the Chairman of the Panitia Teknis who was responsible to the existing Regent, the
Chairman of the Panitia Khusus was responsible to the Speaker of the DPRD, that is, himself! So, one person
reported the performance of his job to himself in a different job, but a higher position. While the Panitia Teknis
determined who were allowed to be elected, the Panitia Khusus determined how the voting stage of the election
was to be carried out.
410
158
candidate registering on his own”.411 In the case of military officers, their
headquarters instructed them to register. Publicly, this instruction had to be based
on official requests for military candidates from the local authority, or from local
social or political organizations.412 However, undercover practices, such as
informal lobbying prior to the common formalities, were also very possible. For
example, as another of my respondents told me, the top military headquarters
contacted local commanders to lobby the local factions and asked the factions to
send proposals that request the headquarters to provide the candidates; or an
ambitious officer might secretly lobby the local factions in order to propose his
name to the headquarters; or an influential businessman from Jakarta might lobby
local political groups in order to propose his chosen officer who could secure his
business in the district.413
Most of the DPRD members or local people were only informed after the
Technical Committee revealed who the military’s favoured candidate was.
Usually, along with this information there were also “accompanying candidates”
who were secretly prepared to be the defeated candidates. One of Golkar’s local
leaders said that three local elements of the New Order regime, local territorial
commanders, local bureaucrats and Golkar inside and outside the DPRD,
411
Interview G5 (the respondent was a local leader of Golkar). See also Hans Antlöv who quoted a Javanese
proverb, “be interested, work hard, perfect the world”, to refer to a cultural “genuine ethic” of members of traditional
Javanese leaderships in handling their political jobs, that is, with a “disinterested manner, detached from the
shuffling of every day politics”. See Hans Antlöv and Tak-Wing Ngo (eds.), The Cultural Construction of Politics in
Asia (Richmond, Surrey: Curzon Press, 2000), pp.209-210. This proverb seems to be applicable to a much
broader cultural context, including the contexts of ambition for political power that should not be shown openly. A
person can attempt to create a suitable condition that suits his ambition, for example showing his activeness and
capability in the area he is interested in, or building a network that can bring him to the position he is aiming at, but
the offer to participate directly in the competition for the job has to come in the first place from outside, either from
eligible organizations or an influential person.
412
The process for a military candidate to participate in the election was regulated in the Kekaryaan (Assignments
in Civilian Jobs) procedure. Any proposal from the local factions for a military candidate had to be sent to the
Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces. He would then instruct the Wansospol (Board of Social and Political
Affairs) to find an officer to be a candidate and to check all requirements needed. Based on the recommendation
of the Wansospol, the Commander in Chief issued an instruction letter to the recommended officer candidate to
register and compete in the election. As the letter would also be forwarded to the local military commanders, they
would also understand about their responsibility to support the success of the candidate to win the election. (See
Armed Forces Commander in Chief Decree Surat Keputusan Panglima Angkatan Bersenjata, No:
Skep/811/XII/1996, 4 December 1996 on procedures for work assignments in executive jobs. (Cover of this
document is shown in Appendix 18). For an explanation about Wansospol, see Chapter Six. For more
information about the origin of the Kekaryaan see, for example, Nasution, A.H, Kekaryaan ABRI, Jakarta:
Seruling Masa, 1971).
413
According to the respondent, however, in these latter two cases of individual ambitions, wider support would
have to be negotiated to ensure the coordination and interconnectedness of the military in controlling the
elections, in some way within the military network Interview M11 (a former F-ABRI member of the DPRD of
Malang City).
159
collaborated with the Technical Committee to prepare and select three to five
candidates; with one being a favoured candidate and the others accompanying
candidates.414 Each faction of the DPRD officially proposed its own candidate, but
their candidates were normally limited to those who had passed the selection
process conducted by the committee. The nomination would be made by a DPRD
general meeting, with this final list based on the factions’ official proposals. The
nominated list that was proposed to the central government for an approval was
therefore not much different from what the committee had recommended.
Stage II: Approval by the central authorities
The second stage, the approval by the Ministry of Home Affairs/MHA, was
intended to check that local players had nominated candidates based on the
central government’s interests. If the local nomination did not comply with the
interest of the centre, the MHA could change it. The approval stage could also be
another arena where the competing groups continued the lobbying contests.
Although officially the selection and nomination might seem to be solely a formality
to legalize a centrally-approved or appointed candidate, nevertheless, undercover,
internal competitions before getting such a candidate could be tough and tricky.
The competitions could happen either within the military, bureaucrats or Golkar, or
between the institutions. One respondent reported that one factor that made it
difficult to find the “true candidate” (approved by the centre) was that “the centre
was not always a single voice”. He said that a military general, a Minister or other
national leaders might be claimed by competing local elements to be representing
“the most valid central voice”.415 One of the “accompanying candidates” might
have a hidden ambition and see a possibility to become the most favoured
candidate. The group supporting this candidate could use the approval stage to
lobby the MHA. This was most likely when all candidates were civilians, and the
military did not take a firm position. Although it was also possible to happen when
the DPRD nominated an officer as the most favoured candidate, in such cases the
414
In preparing and selecting the candidates, the respondent said, Golkar followed “the doctrine of ABG lanes”,
an abbreviation of “Armed Forces, Bureaucrat and Golkar”, meaning that, the candidates have to be recruited
from these three sources. Interview G5.
415
Competing factions within the military were usually between groups based on year of graduation from the
Armed Forces Academy, from Staff and Command Colleges, based on the Branches or Corps, or based on
Kopassus/non-Kopassus (Special Forces) alumni, or specific individual relations such as family or friendship ties.
Interview M11.
160
possibility that the central government would change its preference was much
smaller. This was because the MHA, and most of the Governors who gave the
endorsement to the proposal, were military generals. They were most likely to be
on the same side as the military headquarters.
161
Stage III: Voting stage
Although there was always a possibility for the District Assembly members to vote
against the central government’s preference, normally the military could control
this stage. Firstly, in terms of the numbers, in all Districts, the Golkar and military
factions combined together were always the majority.416 Secondly, domination in
numbers meant also domination in leaderships. Furthermore, the leaderships of
local Golkar were also dominated by the military.417 When a decision was made
through a deliberation, the domination of leaderships was an effective tool to
persuade other factions. In voting, the biggest number was already unchallenged.
In most, however, deliberative negotiations were agreed to be the first choice
before or instead of voting.418 Nevertheless, it was not always that the other
factions’ members accepted the decision in these deliberations automatically, but
mainly because they were scared of unpleasant consequences that would follow
should they openly oppose it, such as threats and intimidations.419 Therefore, it
was very common that candidates from the PPP and PDI could hardly even pass
the first stage of selection at the local elections whether through voting or
deliberation. Commonly however, the two factions did not propose any candidate
on their own choice; instead, they proposed military-recommended candidates.420
If any differences occurred among the ruling groups prior to the voting, such as
between the Armed Forces and Golkar, there were special forums to solve them.
One such forum was called a ‘Quarter Cameral Forum’ (Forum Seperempat
Kamar) – with one of the four Assembly factions meeting with the District Head or
with the local Territorial Commander to work out the differences; for example, the
416
Until 1999, under the 1974 Act, the Armed Forces faction was allocated twenty percent of the Assembly seats,
that is nine where there were forty five, or five out of twenty in smaller Districts. In several Districts Golkar alone
took more than fifty percent of the seats. For example, in the 1997 General Election, in Magetan Regency Golkar
took thirty six of the forty five DPRD seats and because nine of the other seats were already allocated to the
military, there was no seat for the PPP or the PDI. In Madiun District Golkar took thirty five of the thirty six
available, leaving only one seat for the PPP and none for the PDI.
417
Before 1999, in all of the then thirty seven DPD (Regional Leadership Councils) of Golkar in East Java, the
position of Chairman was occupied by the Commander of the relevant Military District (Dandim). Interview G5 (the
respondent was the spokesperson of Malang City).
418
As dictated by the Panca Sila (Five Principles), the State’s ideology, it was stated that Indonesian’s democracy
adopts people’s representation and deliberation in wisdom. Therefore, “deliberation was always used as the first
choice, while voting was the last choice in solving political problems”. Interview M41 (a member of an F-ABRI).
419
Interview D1 (the Chairperson of the PDI party for a District in East Java since 1984, and now the Chairperson
of the DPRD of the District).
420
A former member of the Chairman of an F-ABRI said that the two factions (F-PP and F-DI) always consulted
about their candidates with the military. If the military did not approve their candidates they usually cancelled them
and followed the recommendation from the military. Interview M11.
162
F-KP (Golkar faction) meeting with the District Head; or the F-ABRI (military
faction) with the Military Area Commander. Another forum was called a ‘Half
Cameral Forum’ (Forum Setengah Kamar) – in which two of the four Assembly
factions met with the local government leader or the local territorial commander.
One former member of an F-ABRI described these forums as “deliberation
forums” (forum musyawarah), where the District Head or the Territorial
Commander had the opportunity to deliberate with the factions.421
Stage IV: The final approval
The final approval was the last resort for the central government to solve any
disputes in the local elections, for instance, if two candidates gained equal
votes422, or to prevent an undesirable candidate from occupying a strategic
position through the election. As mentioned earlier, there was a possibility that the
result of the voting stage would be different from what had been ordered by the
central authority. In some cases a deliberation might work so no voting was
needed. Yet in other cases, an unidentified group within the military or the Golkar
factions might have personal interests in sabotaging the order. Therefore, final
approvals by the Governor and MHA (stage IV) were needed to ensure that the
final decision always belonged to the central government.
In summary, although political competition in the District elections existed, the
scope of the competition was very much limited to being among certain elite
groups of the regime, not providing for any contestation between the government
and the opposition parties that represent different parts of the society.
Furthermore, as some members of DPRD admitted, “the past local elections were
mainly pretence”.423 All processes were aimed at strengthening the existing
regime. Even though the election procedure appeared officially and publicly to be
quite democratic, at every stage the military effectively controlled the processes,
either by creating the regulations through which the military could dominate the
421
In a different context, outside the election events, these forums were also used by the factions to give early
warning and to deliberate with the District Head about certain controversial issues that might be raised by the
legislatures in the Assembly hearing session with the government. Interview M11 (a former military faction
member).
422
The case of Madiun City, where two candidates gained equal votes, exemplifies this dispute (shown in Table
VII.2 in this chapter).
423
Interview M41 (a member of the F-ABRI of the DPRD of an East Java District since 1992).
163
system or by operating undercover activities through the patronage networks
between or within military and political institutions. It is these two ways of
institutional control that the military seemed to have lost in the post-New Order era,
as shown in the next election cases.
3. District elections post-New Order
As mentioned in this chapter’s Introduction, some interrelated factors that reduced
the military control over the District elections were in line with the broader
development of political change (see Table VII.1).
Table VII.1: Political changes affecting the military power in East Java
District elections (May 1998 – December 2003)
Date
May
1998
Events
Soeharto resigns; public pressure on
the military to leave politics
strengthens
July
1998
Military relations with political groups
ended, including with Golkar party,
Retired Military Association/Pepabri,
and Military Family
Association/FKPPI.
April
1999
Military Headquarters decided to
withdraw all military personnel from
government bureaucracies
National Election produced new local
Assemblies.
July
1999
January
2000
New Autonomy Law No.25/1999
became effective and new
Regulations on the Local Elections
were produced
Decemb Military Headquarters instructed all
er 2000 military officers to retire before
registering as District Head
candidates, and prohibited any
military faction of a DPRD from
Impacts
Military lost public support
in the elections; strong
demands for a free and fair
election
Military lost traditional
political affiliations,
especially in the
Assemblies, thus possess
smaller number of votegetters to compete in the
elections
Military lost bureaucracy’s
supports to compete in the
local elections
Number of Assemblies’
military seats were reduced
from twenty to ten percent
of the total
The Provincial Governors
and the MHA have no
longer authority to change
the nomination list and the
election result
Without having District
candidates to work for,
officially the opportunity for
the military faction to be
actively involved in the
164
proposing any candidate in local
elections. (Instruction of Panglima
ABRI No. ST/214/2000, 12
December 2000)
elections was reduced
Firstly, there was a stronger public pressure on the military to leave politics. Then,
there were substantial changes in laws and regulations as well as in the political
structures as responses to the public pressure, and these changes weakened the
military’s position in politics including in the election system. Thirdly, as a
consequence of the shrinking of the military’s control over politics, various
resources (either financial or moral) needed to support its political power
eventually dried up or ran away, and thus reduced further the military control over
local elections.
The changes listed seem to have contributed to a very dramatic change in the
outcomes of the District elections in East Java over the five and a half years from
May 1998 to December 2003 as seen in Table VII.2.
Table VII.2: Outcomes of East Java’s District elections (May 1998 –
December 2003)
The winners of district elections
(sources or positions before
registration)
N
o
Districts / Election
dates
Active
duty
military/
police
1
2
3
4
Malang City/ 28-08-98
Mojokerto City/ 02-03-99
Madiun City/ 16-03-99
Ngadiredjo Regency/ 1011-99
Lamongan Reg./ 13-1-00
Gresik Reg./ 27-01-00
Sumber Yasin City/ 0702-00
Jember Reg./ 12-02-00
Situnggal Reg./ 17-02-00
H
5
6
7
8
9
Retire
d
militar
y/
police
Bureaucra
ts (Golkar
or
member
of no
party)
New
Parties’
(civilian
)
membe
rs
H
H
H
V
V
H
H/V
V
H
H/V
V
H
165
10 Ponorogo Reg./ 11-03-00
11 Sumenep Reg./ 03-05-00
12 Banjarwetan Reg./ 31-0500
13 Blitar City/ 01-07-00
14 Sumberwaras Reg./ 2207-00
15 Trenggalek Reg./ 25-0800
16 Pacitan Regency/ -09-00
17 Mojokerto Reg./ 23-9-00
18 Sidoarjo Reg./ 28-09-00
19 Mangliawan Reg./ 04-0100
20 Blitar Reg./ 06-12-00
21 Probolinggo City/ - -00
22 Kediri City
23 Kediri Reg.
24 Pasuruan City (2000)
25 Tunggal Redjo Reg./ 0805-01
26 Batang City/ 04-11-02
27 Bangkalan Reg./ 06-0103
28 Buluhawang Reg./ 10-0103
29 Probolinggo Reg./ 18-0103
30 Nganjuk Reg./ 12-03-03
31 Pringgodani Reg./ 20-0323
32 Talangwetan Reg./16-0403
33 Pasuruan Reg./ 31-05-03
34 Madiun Reg./ 03-07-03
35 Mangun Redjo Reg./ 1007-03
36 Lumajang Reg./ 01-08-03
37 Jombang Reg./ 25-08-03
38 Bondowoso Reg./ 04-0903
Total
H
V
V
V
H
H
H/V
V
H
H
V
H/V
H/V
H
H
H
Data not available
Data not available
Data not available
H
H
H
V
V
V
H/V
V
V
H/V
V
H/V
V
H/V
H
H
V
H*
H
H
V
V
V
H
H
H
V
V
V
H: 0 V:
H: 3 V:
H:17
H:12
0
0
V:7
V:25
Notes: H = District Head ; V = District Vice-Head; *Districts where PDIP became
the biggest party.
In contrast to the period pre-May 1998 when most Districts were headed by
military officers, in the first five-year period of the reform only three retired military
166
officers, and no active-duty officers, were elected as District Heads; almost
entirely, civilian leaders were elected.424
The following two sub-sections describe how this process – a consistent, steep
and rapid decline in the trend of the military institutional roles - happened. The
Pilkada cases in an urban City District, Sumbersari,425 and a rural Regency
District, Ngadiredjo, will be used to show the significant shifts chronologically in the
relations among the New Orders’ political players. While in the Sumbersari case
the military faced a serious challenge, in the Ngadiredjo case it experienced a total
defeat. The District of Sumbersari held its Pilkada soon after B. J. Habibie took
over the Presidency in May 1998, whereas the Ngadiredjo election occurred
shortly after Abdurrahman Wahid replaced him in October 1999. The two different
circumstances426 affected the degrees to which the local military could exercise
power over the procedures of the Pilkada. These two were selected not only
because they were held at two critical periods, but also because in both cases the
military factions of the DPRD were obliged to struggle to try to elect a military
officer.427 So, they represent a sequential, declining trend in the degree of military
power that could be mobilised to try to achieve this.
3.1. Challenging the military domination in Sumbersari City
The Sumbersari Pilkada was typical of a 1998 development of the Indonesian
political outlook; mass demonstrations were strong enough to interrupt the Pilkada
process. These involved a public rejection of all nominated candidates and
successfully forced the Sumbersari DPRD to agree to restart the election process,
424
See Appendixes 9 to 13 that illustrate how different the situation in 1998. Compare the 1994 and 2000 election
committees where military officers held key positions in the first, not in the second. As well, restrictions imposed by
parties, not to allow military officers as candidates, while opened opportunity bigger to civilian including Pedi Cap
driver.
425
The names both of individuals and places have been changed.
426
The different circumstances were mainly brought about by the 1999 election that produced new Assembly
members and a new power constellation in the DPRD where the military power became much weaker.
427
There were two other Pilkada in other city Districts being held in the period between them, but all nominated
and accepted candidates were civilians so the roles of the military were not so significant in terms of civil-military
political competitions, therefore they are not presented in this chapter. In addition, from January to June 1998,
prior to the Pilkada in Sumbersari there were also five other Pilkada where military officers were elected to be the
District Government leaders, yet unlike in Sumbersari they came to office in relatively smooth processes, without
significant challenges from either opposition parties or from Golkar elites, so neither are they discussed here.
167
in order to comply “with better democratic procedures”.428 Although the military
finally succeeded in determining the outcome, the new circumstances made it
much difficult for them to achieve this, and showed the beginning of the decline of
the military’s local political power. The nomination process for the candidates had
started in February 1998, a few months before the end of the New Order regime.
A formal decision about the nominated candidates was taken and publicly
announced by the DPRD on May 19, 1998, only two days before the resignation
of Soeharto. Five candidates were proposed: Colonel Suyadi, as the most
favoured candidate, and four civilian bureaucrats who were regarded as
“accompanying candidates”.429 All candidates were proposed by the F-ABRI and
F-KP factions. The two other factions, F-PP and F-DI, did not put forward their
own-chosen candidates; although formally these factions proposed the same
names, they “only followed”430 the F-ABRI and F-KP, the ruling government
factions.431
Despite stronger pressure put on the military by public demonstrations, the
existing New Order’s system and rules still worked on favour of the military. This
included an internal rule of Golkar that it was to accommodate the three ABG
channels in the process of selecting Bupati/ Mayor candidates.432 The public
pressure and the existing system became two competing forces that contributed
significantly to the re-shaping of the relations between the military and the other
factions. According to one respondent, who was the spokesman of the F-ABRI
when the election was held, there was a tension between the F-ABRI and other
factions regarding whether or not to re-start the election procedure.433 He said that
he received an instruction from the Military Headquarters in Surabaya and Jakarta
428
The protestors labeled the previous nomination list as full of “Corruption, Collusion, and Nepotism” (KKN/
Korupsi, Kolusi, Nepotisme). See “Diulang Penjaringan Pimpinan Dua Dati II di Jatim”, Kompas 5 June 1998.
429
See the DPRD Decree No 10/ 1998 about names of candidates of Kepala DaerahTk II (District
Government Leader) of Sumbersari. As explained before, “accompanying candidates” refers to
those civilian candidates who are prepared by the election committees or by DPRD members to
lose the elections. These candidates were normally informed that they were not going to win the
elections, and had been selected only as a formality to complement the election process.
430
Interviews G5, G6. Both respondents were Sumbersari District leaders of Golkar. Interview M11 (the former
Chairperson of Sumbersari).
431
The DPRD of Sumbersari District consisted of F-KP/Golkar 17; F-ABRI 9; PPP 16 and PDI 3. The first two
were the government factions and occupied 26 seats, more than a half of the total 45, while the last two were
opposition factions, occupying 19 seats.
432
ABG (ABRI, BIROKRASI, GOLKAR/Armed Forces, Bureaucracy, Golkar) was an internal procedure of
Golkar, in which all candidates for the positions of government leaders would be looked for from these three
sources. Interview G5.
433
Interview M11.
168
to stick to following what had been planned, while other factions including F-KP
(Golkar), the biggest faction, wanted to accept the public’s demands. Because he
considered it was impossible to pursue the instruction, he tried to convince the
Headquarters that the F-ABRI and F-KP could “secure” (mengamankan) the
election of Colonel Suyadi as Mayor but the public demands to restart the election
would also have to be accepted. In the end the Headquarters agreed the election
process would be restarted.
On 29 May, after ten days of demonstrations, the DPRD area was fully occupied
by protestors and the DPRD agreed to their demands.434 New applications for the
Mayoral Candidature were then re-opened by the DPRD with an allocated time
from 8-20 June 1998.435 All interested candidates could freely and equally
participate for the first time after thirty two years; and twenty six applicants
registered as candidates.436 However, according to the existing Laws and
Regulations on Local Elections, the twenty six candidates would have to be sorted
by the Technical Committee, which was at that time chaired by Colonel Adi Susilo
(as he was the Chairman of the DPRD) and with the retiring District Head and the
Head of the Social and Political Office (both military officers) as the other
members. The result of this was that the Committee cut the number by a half to
13. The remaining 13 candidates consisted of 5 military officers including Colonel
Suyadi, 4 bureaucrats and 4 non-bureaucrat politicians.437 So, although the public
could force the military to broaden the opportunity for participating as candidates,
the military still had authority to determine who were eligible or who were not to
continue to the next process.
As the public continued to protest against the newly nominated candidates, the
anxiety of the military had not yet vanished. Specifically, the protest was directed
at Colonel Suyadi. According to a Golkar respondent, Colonel Suyadi was
opposed not only because of his military status, but also because of the issues of
434
The demonstrations had been continuing since ten days before. Thousands of people surrounded the DPRD
demanding the resignation of Soeharto at the time the decision was taken on 19 May 1998, and refused the
decision.
435
Interview M11.
436
Risalah Rapat Penutupan Pendaftaran Calon Walikota [Sumbersari], 22 June 1998.
437
Risalah Rapat Penetapan Bakal Calon Walikota [Sumbersari], 26 June 1998.
169
not being a “native person” (putra daerah).438 The local origin issue was heated
because the three previous Walikota were, besides being from the military, not
originally from Sumbersari, but from Pacitan, a Regency in the most western part
of East Java Province. According to one retired military respondent of mine,
proposing a successor who had a personal tie with the predecessor was one of
the common strategies taken by the predecessor to protect himself, including his
remaining interests, such as in projects where he or his family were involved or to
cover any secret scandals during his period of office. In this we see one variation
of “neo-patrimonialism”, where the predecessor as a patron offers an office
position to the successor as a client, and in return the client gives a protection to
the predecessor.439 One military respondent said that the officers involved in the
election process were warned by their commander that “if they failed to defend
Colonel Suyadi, their career would be at risk”. To secure Colonel Suyadi the
military would have work out the two issues.
Tension between the military and Golkar elites was heated after Golkar showed a
reluctance to support Colonel Suyadi. In the DPRD voting on 3 July 1998 to
nominate five of the thirteen eligible candidates, of the total forty five members of
DPRD only eleven members voted for Colonel Suyadi (military). Eleven votes
were also given to Edi Rusdi (Golkar), eight to Iman Harun (Golkar), eight to
Colonel Harris (military) and three to Dedi Taher (PPP). One respondent who was
a local leader of Golkar told me that Golkar members had begun to think of
ignoring the ABG mechanism due to public pressures calling for an independent
Golkar, free from the influence of the military.440 In fact, he said, Edi Rusdi, a
438
Interview G5.
Interview M11. I found also similar patterns of patron-client relationships in two other districts, that is,
Bojonegoro and Tulungagung. In Bojonegoro, as in the Sumbersari case, the predecessor-successor personal
relationships were built based on their local origin. In Sumbersari they came from Pacitan, in Bojonegoro three
Regents in succession were from Madura. When these “native person” issues emerged after 1998, in
Sumbersari there was a “Pacitanization” (Pacitanisasi) issue, in Bojonegoro there was “Maduranization”
(Maduranisasi) issue. This was revealed in an interview with a PDIP local leader of Bojonegoro, Anwar Soleh, in
2003. In Tulungagung the predecessor-successor personal relationships were based on the same professions,
that is, the Civil Engineering Division (Dinas Pekerjaan Umum,Dinas PU). The PU is a division of local
government that deals with the government projects such as road building or other physical development
projects. So, in Tulungagung there was an issue of “PU-nization” (PUnisasi). This was stated by one military
respondent who was a military representative in the DPRD of Tulungagung, Interview M95.
440
Formally, the ABG/ABRI-Birokrasi-Golkar (Military-Bureaucrats-Golkar) mechanism was still recognized. In
principle the ABG mechanism suggested that candidates for the local government leaders had to be taken from
the three sources, and determined through a deliberative process among the three components, but in the end it
was usually decided by the military because all top leaders of the three institutions were military. Interview G5;
Interview G6.
439
170
Golkar member, gained increasingly strong public support, but also that Golkar’s
youths were mobilized to support the demonstrations.441 The Vice-Chairman of
Golkar in Sumbersari suggested that some members of Golkar saw the public
resistance to Colonel Suyadi as a suitable moment for promoting “Golkar’s young
cadre” (kader muda Golkar) “to take over Golkar’s leadership from the military”. He
said that there was “prolonged, subtle, unexpressed discontent” among the Golkar
youth about the military domination of Golkar leadership. Military domination
“hindered their attempts to gain a bigger share of positions” either in the legislature
or executive.442
So, there was a convergence between the public pressure and the individual
ambitions of local Golkar members that were no longer blocked from above.
However, again, the existing nomination system favoured the military. According
to the election procedure, the list of the candidates was forwarded through the
Governor of East Java Province to the Minister of Home Affairs on 11 July 1998. It
was at this stage that it became clear that through the existing procedure the
military could reject potential challengers to Colonel Suyadi. On 27 August 1998
when approval letters were received from the Governor and the central
government it became clear that Edi Rusdi’s name had disappeared from the list.
Three candidates, Colonel Suyadi, Iman Harun and Dedi Taher, were approved
while two others, Edi Rusdi and Colonel Harris, were not.443
Despite the elimination of Colonel Suyadi’s main competitors from the list, the
military still worried because some members of the F-KP (Golkar) who had
previously supported Edi Rusdi now said openly that they would shift their support
to Iman Harun, another candidate advanced by the F-KP.444 According to one
respondent, at this stage the military used direct intervention including distribution
of “money” (amplop, ‘envelopes’) and “intimidation” (ancaman). For example, a
441
The support was expressed through demonstrations, local news papers and radio. For a current reference,
see the local newspaper [Sumbersari] Post 12, 15, 22 July 1998.
442
Edi Rusdi was the son of a former Sumbersari Mayor (1979-1988) who was a Retired Colonel. He was also
an activist of the FKPPI (Forum Komunikasi Putra Putri Indonesi/Indonesian Youth Communication Forum), an
organization of military families’ sons and daughters, an organization in which the respondent had also become
an activist. Interview G5.
th
443
See the Ministry of Home Affairs letter No. X.131.35/2781/PUOD, August 27 1998 and the East
th
Java Governor’s letter No. X.131.428/557/012/1998, August 27 1998.
444
Interview M11.
171
week before the election a local military Territorial Commander secretly invited all
forty five members of the legislature to his office. The respondent suggested that
the Commander distributed money (as much as 2 million rupiah) for each person
to support Colonel Suyadi and warned that a failure to comply with the demand
would be seen as opposing the military’s position. After the meeting members of
the PPP complained that the meeting demonstrated an old political attitude that
was no longer appropriate in the era of reformasi.445 Despite the protest,
especially from the F-PP, the direct intervention remained effective. According to
one Golkar respondent, shortly after this meeting, all F-KP members were invited
again to the office, warned that their support for Iman Harun could risk Colonel
Suyadi’s position, and required to guarantee a full support for Colonel Suyadi.446
This finally secured Colonel Suyadi’s position – when the election was held on 28
August 1998, of the 45 members of DPRD, 24 voted for Colonel Suyadi, 1 each
for Iman Harun and Dedi Taher. This made up 26 votes consisting of all those
from the F-ABRI and F-KP.447 The 16 members of the PPP and the 3 of the PDI
abstained.
Although the outcome was finally steered by the military, the F-KP members’
apparent decision to take a different line from the military’s, especially at the early
stage, and the decision of the F-PP and F-DI members to abstain in the voting
stage, showed a real challenge to the military, and marked a beginning of a
change in the relations among the elites involved in the elections in the
Sumbersari district.
3.2. Defeating the military in Ngadiredjo Regency
The eventual success of the military in electing Colonel Suyadi could not be
repeated in the Ngadiredjo Pilkada. Colonel Sudarman, an officer proposed by the
F-TNI/POLRI to become the district leader of Ngadiredjo Regencywas defeated
445
After the election Colonel Suyadi’s voters were again invited to meet the Pangdam V Brawijaya to receive
another 5 million rupiah each as a reward for their success in the election. Interview M11. This was confirmed by
Golkar respondents who were interviewed separately.
446
Interview G5.
447
See Risalah Rapat Paripurna Khusus (Resumé of Special Parliamentary Summit) about the Mayoral Election
th
on 28 of August 1998 in Sumbersari.
172
by Dr. Hanafi, a candidate proposed by Golkar. There were several factors that
caused this failure for the military. Beside the declining support from the military
institution, it included also a change in the election term and in the groups of actors
involved. The new election rule came into effective in the middle of the process of
the election. Consequently, the first half of the process applied the old rule and the
rest followed the new rule. Likewise, the actors involved were different. The DPRD
members involved in the first half process of the election were the product of the
1997 General Election, while those who were involved in the rest of the process
were mainly new Assembly members, the result of the 1999 Election. In this new
DPRD the number of the military representatives had been cut down by half (from
twenty to ten per cent, to five of the forty-five members). What is interesting,
however, is not how the circumstances had changed, but how the military and
local elites had coped with these changes.
The election was prepared in March 1999, three months before the first postSoeharto free, national, General Election was held on 7 June 1999. Through the
usual deliberation process, the DPRD nominated five candidates and proposed
them to the Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA). They were two active military officers,
one retired officer and two civilians. The active officers were Colonel Sudarman
(an army officer) and Colonel Susanto (the existing Bupati), both proposed by the
F-ABRI; the retired officer was Ret.Col. Sudaryatmo (the DPRD Chairman, a
member of the Golkar Faction/F-KP); and the two civilians were Dr. Hanafi (Head
of the Regional Health Service), also proposed by the F-KP/Golkar448; and Drs.
Qomary Armen (a Golkar member of the Indonesian Parliament in Jakarta),
proposed by the F-PP. As in the previous case, the F-DI decided not to propose
any candidate.449 The MHA then approved three of these candidates to be
elected: Colonel Sudarman (proposed by the military), Dr. Hanafi (by Golkar) and
Qomary Armen (by the PPP). As in the Sumbersari case, two names were
eliminated from the list, Retired Colonel Sudaryatmo (proposed by Golkar), who
448
Unlike in the Sumbersari case where Golkar was formally committed to the ABG mechanism in selecting the
candidate, in the Ngadiredjo case the mechanism had been abolished due to the national decision to separate
Golkar and the military in 11 July 1998; and the F-ABRI and the military stood on two opposite positions.
449
The F-PP supported Qomary Armen, a Golkar member, instead of a PPP member. It was suggested to me
by a Golkar respondent that this was seen by Golkar as a conspiracy designed by the military to break Golkar
votes into several small groups so that they were not big enough to challenge the group of Colonel
Sudarman.The respondent was the Chairman of the F-Golkar in the Ngadiredjo DPRD from 1999-2004.
173
had been the strongest challenger to Colonel Sudarman, and Colonel Susanto (FABRI).
According to the Chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI, as a former Military District
Commander of Ngadiredjo and a staff officer of the Military Area Command,
Colonel Sudarman was seen as a better candidate to replace Colonel Susanto,
the District Head whose current term of office was ending but could have been
renewed. Similarly, he said, the Headquarters in Jakarta wanted to see “a
leadership change” (pergantian pimpinan) to cope with the new political
circumstances, and that was partly why Colonel Susanto was not approved by the
MHA.450 The respondent added that the Headquarters of the Provincial Military
Area Command institutionally viewed it as important for the military to occupy the
Ngadiredjo’s top position as part of “geographical consideration” (pertimbangan
geografi) regarding the local history of Communist movements. He described
Ngadiredjo as similar to the Regencies of Bojonegoro and Magetan, located along
areas which were regarded as the formerly strong bases of Communist loyalists.
Therefore, he said, although institutionally the military limited itself in its
involvement in the election process, it regarded the securing of Colonel
Sudarman’s victory as crucial.451
On the other hand, as in Sumbersari, Golkar’s support shifted to the reserve
candidate, Dr. Hanafi, after finding out that the MHA had eliminated their primary
candidate, Retired Colonel Sudaryatmo, from the list. A respondent who was the
Chairman of the Golkar faction of the Ngadiredjo DPRD from 1999 to 2004 said
that Dr. Hanafi had been a reserve candidate in case their first was not approved
by the MHA. The respondent admitted that the support from the F-KP members
for Dr. Hanafi was then given in full, and no one supported Qomary Armen, a
Golkar “deserter” proposed by the F-PP.452 The military was aware of the
strengthening position of Dr. Hanafi and attempted to influence F-KP members to
450
The respondent was a member of the F-TNI/POLRI and the Deputy Chairman of the DPRD.
Interview M33.
452
The respondent who was also a dentist, an office-mate and a close friend of Dr. Hanafi at the Regional Health
Office, said that initially Dr. Hanafi had no political ambition to register as a Candidate for Regent. Yet the
respondent encouraged him to go forward, claiming that he had even prepared most of the administrative
requirements on behalf of Dr. Hanafi. Interview G34.
451
174
support Colonel Sudarman. Remarkably, the task of trying to influence the F-KP
members was carried out by Retired Colonel Sudaryatmo (the former candidate
proposed by the F-KP) and Colonel Susanto. They told Yasni, an F-KP
respondent of mine, that it would still be better for the District to have a military
officer as the Bupati because of Ngadiredjo’s “geo-political” consideration, as
noted above. The respondent said that the F-KP members refused such advice
and said that they had to stick to their existing position, supporting Dr. Hanafi; and
some of them were also disappointed with the change in the position of Retired
Colonel Sudaryatmo in his switching from pro-Golkar to be pro-F-ABRI.453
From this stage of the election, political circumstances (the rules, the actors, and
the military political policies) changed as the result of the 1999 General Election.
The name of the Golkar faction was changed from ‘F-KP’ to ‘F-Golkar’; and ‘FABRI’ was renamed ‘F-TNI/POLRI’. Both F-TNI/POLRI and F-Golkar had two
important tasks: first, they needed to lobby the new groups in the DPRD in order to
accept and continue with the previous process rather than start from the beginning
again; then, if this step was successful, they needed to build support from the new
groups in order to gain their votes. After lobbying and holding a series of meetings,
the new DPRD accepted all the candidates who had been nominated by the
previous DPRD. A member of the, now, F-TNI/POLRI acknowledged that despite
earlier complaints and protests the new DPRD accepted the argument that
“starting reselecting candidates from the beginning would cost lots of money,
energy, and other consequences that could cause worse political instabilities”.454
According to a Golkar respondent the new parties’ members agreed to not restart
the process “because of the hard work of Golkar members to lobby them”.455 In
contrast, a military faction respondent, who was a Vice-Speaker of the DPRD,
suggested that the acceptance from the new parties proved that the military had
“strong influence” (pengaruh kuat) in the DPRD, although it was small in
453
Interview G34.
Interview M32 (the Chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI of Ngadiredjo since 1999).
455
Interview G34.
454
175
number.456 Another military respondent alleged that it was because of “money that
talks” (uang yang bicara), and admitted that Golkar and Dr. Hanafi spent lots of
money to bribe the new DPRD members in order to secure his victory.457 It will be
clearer below that the last explanation mentioned seems to be the most likely
reason.
The F-TNI/POLRI’s effort to influence the new groups in the DPRD to accept the
existing candidates was not followed by a victory at the voting stage. The F-Golkar
achieved a better result.458 A military respondent who was involved intensively in
the process described that the failure as “one logical consequence of political
reformation”.459 He pointed out several factors that caused the failure. The first
was the absence of support from military institutions, especially the Pangdam, the
Military Area Commander in Chief. This was related not only to “the political
neutrality commitment of the military” thus the withdrawal from politics announced
by the Headquarters on the 1st of April, but also to the fact that the selection
process for the position of Pangdam was underway. Therefore, he said, the
institution was too busy to pay serious attention to the election.460 The respondent
said that F-TNI/POLRI members were “ignored” (seolah-olah dicuekin) by the
three levels of territorial units (KODAM, KOREM and KODIM) that used to give full
support for military-proposed candidates. Yet they knew what the institutions
expected them to do, that is “to win victory for the candidate from the military no
matter whoever was approved” (mensukseskan calon dari KBT, siapapun yang
disetujui) by the MHA. The respondent admitted that he himself visited the
nineteen PDI-P members from door to door to lobby them for support. He pointed
456
“Even until now all political problems, including political conflicts among the new factions of the DPRD were
solved in my office. The civilian factions still trust the military as a neutral, stabilisator (stabilizer)”. Interview M33.
457
Interview M32.
458
Of the 45 seats in the 1997 DPRD, 26 were occupied by Golkar, 9 (non-elected) by F-ABRI, 9 by the PPP and
1 by the PDI. In the 1999 DPRD, F-Golkar and F-TNI/POLRI occupied only (elected) 6 and (non-elected) 5 seats
respectively. New parties occupied the other 34. The PDI-P (Indonesian Democratic Party for Struggle, the
successor to the PDI) occupied 19 seats; the PKB (National Awakening Party) took 7 seats. The other 8 seats
were shared by 6 small parties: PPP, PAN, PNI, PNI-MM, PKP and PBB. In order for their Regent Candidate to
be able to succeed in the election, F-Golkar, F-TNI/POLRI, and F-PP would have to lobby other parties for their
th
support in order to collect at least the necessary 23 votes. At the voting stage held on the 10 of November, Col.
Sudarman gained only 18 votes and so lost against Dr. Hanafi (Golkar’s candidate) who got 22 votes, while the
other 4 votes were given to Qomary Armen (PPP’s candidate). (Risalah Rapat Paripurna Khusus DPRD
th
(DPRD’s Special Session) at the Bupati Election of Ngadiredjo Regency, dated the 10 of November 1999.)
459
Interview M32.
460
Pangdam Major General Ryamizard was replaced by Major General Sudi Silalhi, as announced in the
th,
Presidential Decree, dated November 4 a week earlier. Interview M32.
176
out that if all these nineteen members plus the five members of the F-TNI/POLRI
had supported Colonel Sudarman, “there should have been 24 votes” for him, and
the target could be achieved. The respondent stated that “had the institution really
wanted to secure Colonel Sudarman, lots of sponsors would have helped to
finance the lobbying”.461 The military respondent claimed that, although earlier
they had agreed to give their support, on the voting day some of them had
supported Dr. Hanafi who was stronger financially. He said that he had information
that “the group [F-Golkar and Dr. Hanafi’s group] gave each Assembly
representative 15 million rupiah (US$ 1500), while we [Colonel Sudarman’s group]
only gave them 2.5 million rupiah.462
A Golkar member, who claimed to be the key actor who “designed and managed”
Dr. Hanafi’s success, viewed the failure of the military at the election as having
been caused by its lack of sensitivity to a new political circumstance; instead still
relying on the old political strategy. The military, he said, believed too much that all
members of the PDI-P would follow their Chairman once he had made an
agreement with the F-TNI/POLRI. He also revealed that Golkar’s success in
building support from the new groups or parties in the DPRD was “the result of the
lobbying carried out from the first stage”. This confirmed information given me by a
military respondent, mentioned earlier, that the new groups agreed not to demand
a restart for the election because Golkar had spent lots of money to bribe them.
The Golkar respondent also said that his party had carried out political actions for
several days before the election stage, including “dawn attacks” (serangan
fajar)463, because Golkar believed that the politics “could change at every minute”.
As a result, Golkar could “steal” around 6 votes from F-DIP members who had
461
Interview M32.
As the key member of the success team of the Colonel Sudarman group he knew that some of the money
was provided by Colonel Sudarman himself and some additional funds from sponsors (Chinese businessmen).
Another factor, that the respondent said made the F-TNI/POLRI members “disappointed and frustrated”, was the
factor of Colonel Sudarman himself – who had no willingness to follow the steps of the election process. The
respondent added that he was “too confident” with the old pattern that every military-supported candidate must
win and “the F-TNI/POLRI’s members were responsible to ensure it”. He gave as examples that Colonel
Sudarman never came to present his vision and mission to the DPRD forum as formally required by the DPRD’s
Decree and he never met supporting groups that had been lobbied although he was several times invited by the
F-DIP members to discuss many things, especially concessions that they might get after voting for him. The
Colonel might have thought that meeting the Chairman of the PDI-P once in Surabaya, the city where Sudarman
lived, would be enough. Interview M32.
463
Interview G34.
462
177
been attracted by the F-TNI/POLRI long before the election, as well as additional
votes from the PKB and other small parties.464
When asked about how the military reacted to Golkar’s political moves, the
respondent complained that the military acted with typical behaviour, “intimidating
and threatening”. He said there were threats made, including that “his family would
be killed if Colonel Sudarman failed to become the Bupati”. The same threats
were sent to Dr. Hanafi’s house. The respondent decided to tape-record them as
proof should this case be brought to the court. He suspected that the message
was sent by the group of Colonel Sudarman; and became more convinced when
after the election he was invited to the Ngadiredjo’s KODIM HQ where the
Commander “angrily blamed him as the main cause” of the failure of Colonel
Sudarman; accusing him of betrayal. However, he argued to convince him that
Ngadiredjo’s people did not want “a military Bupati anymore, and that Golkar’s
aspiration was to support civil supremacy.”465
When asked about his opinion of the failure of the military, the Chairman of the FTNI/ POLRI responded that the key factor that brought Dr. Hanafi to a victory in
Ngadiredjo was “the money”. He also suspected that “there were personal deals”
between Dr. Hanafi and Yasni as they were both working at the same office as
dentists.466 However, although disappointed with the political actions of Dr.
Hanafi’s group, he praised Dr. Hanafi as individually much better than Colonel
Sudarman. His leadership could be more accepted by the people of Ngadiredjo
than Colonel Sudarman’s.467
464
Interview G34.
The respondent said, “I am still keeping the records” and “I have informed some local journalists about that, but
then we decided not to bring it to the Court because we knew they were only threats”. Interview G34.
466
With regard to special deals between Dr. Hanafi and Yasni, the latter claimed that he was the person who
encouraged Dr. Hanafi to participate in the election and also prepared most of the administrative requirements for
this, including completing the application forms, but he denied the accusation that there was a financial deal
between them. Interview G34.
467
Although the geo-political calculations of the military required that Ngadiredjo Regency be led by
a military officer, personally, this officer was not so happy with Colonel Sudarman’s personality,
especially “his highly temperamental attitudes”. He also labelled it as “out of control” and further
pointed out that, when the Colonel was the District Commander (Dandim) of Ngadiredjo, he several
times punished his men by beating and kicking them in front of local people, and once this had
been publicized by the local media. Another example was that, after the election when he knew that
he lost, he spontaneously shouted at two members of the F-TNI/POLRI, accusing them of having
betrayed him and supported Dr. Hanafi. The respondent, who was one of “the leading actors” in the
465
178
So, some members of F-TNI/POLRI did not support Colonel Sudarman
personally, but did so mainly because they understood that the military institution
expected them to do so. Yet they also understood that the institution had loosened
its control and lowered its expectations. When asked about the reactions of other
F-TNI/POLRI members to the failure, one of my respondents said, “for sure,
disappointed, but they seemed to realize that they had to accept the political
reality”, that they were no longer in a position that could determine the outcome of
the election. He said that “the one who was very disappointed was Colonel
Sudarman, but he had to understand that we had tried our best; only the
conditions had made it much difficult to play the old games [threat and
intimidations]”.468
3.3. Dealing with new powers
From this point – the completion of the Ngadiredjo Regency Pilkada – forward, the
military position in the successive Pilkada had no longer been dominant. Table
VII.3. shows that from January 2000 to December 2003, from twenty nine local
elections listed, the military faction was unsuccessful in sixteen elections; either
when it proposed its own candidates (eight cases) or supported other factions’
candidates (eight cases).
Table VII.3: Military achievement in East Java’s District Elections
May 1998 to December 2003
Districts/ Dates
Achievement by military faction
Colonel’s side, had been “very angry” with the accusation. He said that he had replied, “As the
Chairman of the F-TNI/ POLRI I told him that, as a Colonel it would be shameful for him that he had
shown to the public his childish attitude that made me lost my respect for him, and made me much
convinced that he was not appropriate for the position. So, I was challenging him to go to the
Commander in Chief to report his accusations”. With regard to the geo-political calculation pointed
to by the respondent, it had been decided that the Regencies around the area were classified as
vulnerable to the influence of Communists; therefore, in the past two of them had to be under close
supervision of the military and were always led by military officers. As the position of Regent in
another neighboring District had been occupied by a civilian, it was even more desired by the
military that Ngadiredjo should be controlled by the military. Interview M33.
468
Interview M33. Another military faction member said, “Colonel Sudarman knew how I struggled by myself by
visiting their [PDIP’s members] houses one by one to get support for him”. Interview M32.
179
Malang City, 28-0898
Mojokerto City, 0203-99
Madiun City, 16-0399 **
Ngawi Regency,1011-99
Lamongan Reg, 1301-00
Gresik Reg., 27-0100
Successf
ul
Military
/Failed
supporte
d
candidat
e (A)
Successf 24
ul*
Successf 8
ul
Successf 9
ul*
Failed*
18
Successf
ul
Failed*
26 @
Surabaya City, 0702-00
Jember Reg., 12-0200
Situbondo Reg., 1702-00
Failed*
Ponorogo Reg., 1103-00
Sumenep Reg., 0305-00
Banyuwangi Reg,
31-05-00
Blitar City, 01-07-00
Sampang Reg., 2207-00
Trenggalek Reg, 2508-00
Pacitan Reg., -09-00
Mojokerto Reg., 239-00
Sidoarjo Reg., 2809-00
Malang Reg., 04-0100
Blitar Reg., 06-12-00
Probolinggo City
Kediri City,
Kediri Reg.
B:1,
Abstain: 19
B:7, C:5
Tota
l
Seat
s
++
C:1, 45
20
B;9, C;2
B:22,
Abstain:1
19
20
C:4,
44
45
45
10
B;25, C:6, D:4,
E:1,
F:1,
Abstain: 3
B:17, C:18
Successf
ul
Failed
22 @
B:19, C:4
45
12 £
45
Successf
ul
Failed*
20 @
Failed
5÷
B:28, C:1,
Abstain:3,
Invalid:1
B:1, C:16, D:7,
Invalid:1
B:28,
C:4,
Invalid:1
B:23, C:15, C:2
Failed*
Failed*
11
22 ÷
14
23
25
45
Failed*
5
45
Successf
ul
Successf
ul
Successf
ul
Failed*
29 ∂
B:23,C:15,
Invalid:2
B:12, C:4
B:9, C:6, D:5,
E:1, F:1, G:1
B:4, C:10, D:3
45
A:1; AA:5 B:19
C:19,
÷
Abstain:1
16
B:24, C:5
Data not available
Data not available
Data not available
45
Failed*
5÷
Votes results
Opposing
factions’
candidates
(B,C,D, etc)
12 £
22 ∂
28 ∂
45
45
45
45
45
45
45
180
Pasuruan City, 1512-00
Tuban Reg., 08-0501
Batu City, 04-11-02
Bangkalan Reg, 0601-03
Bojonegoro Reg, 1001-03
Probolinggo Reg,
18-01-03
Nganjuk Reg., 1203-03
Pamekasan Reg,
20-03-23
Tulungagung Reg,
16-04-03
Pasuruan Reg., 3105-03
Madiun Reg., 03-0703
Magetan Reg., 1007-03
Lumajang Reg., 0108-03
Jombang Reg, 2508-03
Bondowoso Reg, 409-03
Notes:
*
≠
£
∂
@
÷
**
++
three.
Failed
12
18
30
Successf
ul
Successf
ul
Successf
ul
Successf
ul
Successf
ul
Failed
29 ∂
B:15, Invalid:1
45
18 ∂
6, Invalid:1
25
42 ≠
3
45
29 ∂
15, abstain:1
45
27 ≠
B:17, C:1
45
Invalid: 5
Failed
22 ÷
B:31,
Abstain:5
23
Failed
16
B:17, C:12
45
Failed
21 £
B:22, Invalid:2
45
Successf
ul
Failed
25 @
18, Invalid:2
45
20 ÷
25
45
Successf
ul
25 ∂
14, Invalid:6
45
C:4,
45
45
Data not available
Failed
20 £
25
45
Military faction proposed its own candidate
Military faction supported the single majority party (FKB)
Military faction against the majority party (FKB)
Two big factions affiliated and without the military the groups would have
remained the victor.
Military faction affiliated with big faction(s) and without the military the
groups would have been defeated.
Military faction members were divided
Two candidates who gained nine votes each were proposed to the MHA
which approved the candidate who was supported by the military faction.
In the Districts with 45 seats 5 were allocated to the military, in others
In eight of the sixteen defeated cases, the military faction members were divided,
indicating that the institutional control and internal solidity was weakening. In the
181
other thirteen cases the military faction was siding with winning groups. In nine of
these, in which it had either supported a single majority party (two cases) or joined
an alliance of two big factions (F-KB and F-DIP in all seven cases), the faction’s
support was not very significant in bringing about the victory as the majority party
or the alliance already had enough votes to win. In only four of the twenty nine
elections was the military faction’s role significant in bringing its alliance’s groups to
their victory. So, a general trend that the table shows is a continuation of the
decline of the military influence in the local Bupati/Mayoral elections, a trend that
had begun in 1999, as discussed earlier.
There was no single reason for the failures of the military factions in the elections,
instead several reasons were accumulated. Some were specific to certain cases,
such as the existence of a solid, single majority party or two or more big parties
allied to support one candidate who was not the military faction’s preferred one.
Some other reasons, nevertheless, seem to be general to all Districts, such as
changing political circumstances, changing rules of the election or misreading of
local politics.
According to one member of a military faction, generally it was obvious and widely
felt that the military as an institution was attempting to stay away from the election
activities. Consequently, the individual officers of the F-TNI/POLRI, or their
Territorial Commands, were uncertain about their roles. The following are election
cases that provide more information about the decline of the influence of the
military institution in local politics as demonstrated in Tables VII.2 and VII.3.
3.4. Restarting the election
The Ngadiredjo Election case was the only one in the East Java province where
the F-ABRI and F-KP succeeded in persuading the newly elected legislatures to
accept the nomination process prepared by the old Assemblies. In the other five of
the six elections (Lamongan, Surabaya City, Jember, Situbondo, and Gresik) with
a similar transitional condition the new Assemblies decided to restart the election
182
procedure. All Bupati/Mayor’s candidates who had been selected and nominated
by the previous legislatures were removed from the candidate list.469 The
elections were postponed until after January 1st 2000, the time the new Law (No.
25/1999) on Regional Autonomy was expected to come into effect.470 Two
Districts held their elections in January, three others in February. In the first two
Districts all candidates were completely new, whereas in the other three the
previous three candidates joined the elections along with the new candidates.
Several respondents gave similar reasons why the military F-ABRI (F-TNI/POLRI)
and F-KP (F-Golkar) had not been as successful as their counterparts in
Ngadiredjo in getting the new Assembly members to agree to continue what the
previous legislatures had started although, as a respondent in Gresik Regency
said, these factions had “tried to lobby them”. The reason was “the strong
influence of the religious kiyai leaders (President Wahid was one of the most
respected kiyai among F-KB members) to prohibit all F-KB members from
accepting any bribe” offered in order to accept the requests from the Golkar or FTNI/ POLRI groups.471 In the Surabaya City District the F-PKB had almost equal
DPRD numbers with the F-PDIP, but in all the other four (Regency) Districts the FKB was dominant, with around or more than a half of the DPRD members. The
respondents said that it became common for members of the F-KB in the
legislatures to be invited by the respected kiyai of the places to make a “religious
oath on the name of Allah” (bai’at/ bersumpah atas nama Allah) as a guarantee of
their loyalty to religious values, such as “honesty in politics” (kejujuran dalam
berpolitik).472 The military’s failure to convince the new Assemblies in the five
469
th
The decisions were stated in Decrees of the DPRD of: the District of Jember, No. 20/ 1999, October 25 1999;
nd
th
the District of Situbondo, No. 7/1999, November 2 1999; the District of Lamongan No. 31/1999, October 25
th
1999; the District of Gresik No. 170/ 309/ 403.40/1999, October 27 1999. The Decrees were published by the
Biro Bina Otonomi Daerah Jawa Timur (East Java Local Autonomy Building Office), Permasalahan Enam
Kepala Daerah Tk II Provinsi Jawa Timur (a copy is in the possession of the author).
470
The Law No. 22/1999 on Decentralization was produced in Habibie’s Presidency, but its coming into effect
was delayed due to the lack of readiness of the necessary accompanying operational regulations. During Gus
Dur’s Presidency, demands for the Law to be brought into effect were increasing, and there were threats that if
not, some Regencies would dis-integrate from Indonesia. It was partly to satisfy these demands that the central
government then promised that the Law would come into effect by January 1st 2000.
471
The respondents were members of the F-TNI/POLRI and other factions from these regions. Interviews M38,
M41, M48, G36, P46.
472
This is not to say that bai’at was always effective to prevent money politics within the various F-KB. It was
probably quite effective in the first months of the new legislatures coming to office, but when eventually the reform
spirit and ideals began to erode, the bai’at became less effective. Interview M 79.
183
Districts to follow what had been done in Ngadiredjo by not restarting the election
indicates that its power was declining.
3.5. Powerless against a majority party
One of the newly important factors that limited the military’s political influence in
local elections has been the emergence of a majority party that was relatively solid
internally and independent of support from the military or other political groups.
The 1999 election in the East Java province made the PKB become the majority
party in four Regencies. Of the total forty five seats of each DPRD it occupied thirty
in Situbondo, twenty five in Sumenep, twenty five in Bangkalan and twenty eight in
Bondowoso. In these Regencies, as a respondent said, the PKB could easily
bring its Bupati candidates to victory in the elections.473 In contrast, in Situbondo,
for example, the military position was very weak. In June 1998 anti-military-rule
protestors had occupied the executive and legislative buildings and demanded the
District Head, Retired Colonel Sudaryanto, resign.474 The 1999 legislature refused
all procedures related to the Bupati Election that had been prepared by the
previous one. In the 2000 Bupati Election, as a respondent said, with 30 of 45
seats “PKB could do easily whatever they wanted”, including steering the Bupati
Election outcomes. When the election was held, Drs. Mohammad Diaman, who
was proposed by the F-KB, gained 28 of 45 votes. The F-TNI/ POLRI allied with
the F-DIP and proposed a different team of Bupati and Vice-Bupati candidates,
but had no chance of winning.475
In Sumenep the election showed a similar result. H. Ramlan Siraj (Bupati) and
Drs. Abdul Muis (Vice Bupati), the team of candidates who had been proposed by
the F-KB, won 28 of the 45 votes. The F-TNI/POLRI proposed Retired Colonel
473
In terms of vote percentages there were eight Districts that had simple majorities, but because 10% of the total
seats were still allocated for the non-elected F-TNI/POLRI representatives, in four Regency Districts the parties
that gained fifty percent, or slightly above, of the votes could still not make up a simple majority in the legislature.
These four Regencies were: Pasuruan where the PKB gained 55% of the votes which entitled them to 22 of the
45 seats; both Madiun and Surabaya where the PDIP gained 50% of the votes and 20/45 of the seats; and
Magetan where the PDIP gained 52% and 21/45. (The vote percentages are taken from Jawa Timur Dalam
Angka 1999 (East Java in Figures 1999), p. 37.
474
Already mentioned in Chapter Five.
475
Interviews M48, M49.
184
Sukarno Marsaid (who had been the sitting Bupati from 1995 until that moment)
and Drs. H. Rafik (a retired local Attorney General), but got only 12 votes.
According to one military respondent, in addition to the faction’s five votes, seven
votes were gained from Golkar (3) and the F-DIP (4). The respondent said that
even though they had predicted that H. Ramlan Siraj would win, the F-TNI/POLRI
kept proposing different candidates because they had to accommodate the
intention of Ret. Colonel Sukarno Marsaid to participate in the election. As the
existing Bupati, “he felt that he had enough resources [finance] to support his
candidature”, said the respondent. His group had planned to carry out “a dawn
attack” (serangan fajar), or bribe, the day before the election, but the plan could
not be executed in relation to the F-KB members because they had been
“quarantined” by the religious kiyai leaders several days before the election, to
prevent such actions from influencing them.476 So, the existing position as the
Bupati and the financial resources he had were no longer sufficient when used by
the Colonel to bring him into a second term of office in a competition against the
majority faction.
In Bangkalan, similar features were found. As one respondent said, “whatever we
do to change the constellation of the map in the DPRD would not affect the PKB’s
attempt to take over power”.477 Retired Marine Colonel Abdul Fatah (the existing
Bupati) was prevented by the F-KB from reassuming power by rejecting his LPAJ
(Laporan Pertanggung Jawaban Akhir Jabatan, Final Accountability Report). By
this refusal, according to the election rule, he lost his chance to register as a
Bupati Candidate in the election.478 Although the F-TNI/POLRI tried to save him
by accepting the LPAJ, thereby becoming the only faction that accepted the
report, its position was “too weak” (terlalu lemah) to prevent the overall rejection. It
also could not defend him when the Election Committee refused his registration.
As in Situbondo and Sumenep, in the Bangkalan election the F-KB-proposed
team of KH. Fuad Amin for Bupati and Ir. H. Mohammadong for Vice-Bupati won
476
Interview M53 (a member of the F-TNI/POLRI of the Sumenep District DPRD).
Interview M79.
478
The Bupati lodged his rejection of the DPRD assessment on his LPJ to the Court. By lodging this complaint,
he could argue that the final decision about the LPJ had not yet been made so he could register as a Regent
Candidate. However, his registration was rejected by the Election Committee, and his complaint also refused by
the Court. (A copy of the documents related to this conflict is in the possession of the author).
477
185
the election easily, by 42 of the 45 votes. Military respondents said that the FTNI/POLRI had not much choice other than “supporting the majority”, otherwise
the faction would “create difficulties in relationships with the Bupatis”, not only for
the faction “but also for the military units stationed here”.479 So, the three cases
suggest that when a solid, single majority faction existed, it was difficult for the
military as a minor faction to influence the outcome of the election.
3.6. Left out by ruling coalitions
Another factor that limited the military role in the Pilkada was the formation of
powerful coalitions embracing big non-military political groups. In the Trenggalek
Pilkada, the F-TNI/POLRI candidate team of Drs. H. Suyanto (for Bupati) and
Hardjiyo (for Vice-Bupati) gained only five of the total forty five votes, which were
only the votes given by the faction members with no support from members of any
other faction. The candidates proposed by an affiliation of the F-PKB and F-Golkar
won twenty three votes (see Table VII.3). According to one military respondent,
the F-TNI/POLRI since the beginning had been “very pessimistic” about the
chance for Suyanto to win the election, but he kept asking to be proposed by the
faction. This respondent also revealed his suspicion that Suyanto was the one
sent by the F-KB and Golkar to “prevent” the F-TNI/POLRI members from joining
the F-DIP group, but he only began to suspect this after the result was
announced. Because, he said, if they joined the F-DIP they might attempt “to
break the F-KB and F-Golkar affiliation”. When asked why that alliance had not
asked the F-TNI/POLRI to join, he said that “maybe the two factions had already
enough members to win the election, so they did not want ‘to share the money’
with the F-TNI/POLRI”.480 Therefore the F-TNI/ POLRI members were kept away
from the coalition, but prevented from joining another coalition (F-DIP) that might
479
Interviews M79, M80.
Similar cases where two big factions, mainly the F-DIP and the F-KB, formed a coalition for the District Head
elections without including the F-TNI/POLRI were in Pasuruan City and Pacitan Regency. According to some
respondents, the reasons were similar, first, they were strong enough to win the election, second, they did not
want to include what they called “non-reformist groups”, but perhaps, third, in the words of one respondent in
Trenggalek, they did not want to “share the money” (bagi–bagi rezeki) that they got from the elections. Interview
M64 (a member of the Trenggalek DPRD F-TNI/POLRI). Money politics is “real but difficult to prove” said one
respondent in Pasuruan. He mentioned that there was a defeated candidate who spent about “$300,000” (Tiga
M) to bribe as a deposit, based on a self-account by the candidate to the respondent, a close friend who was a
bureaucracy official in Pasuruan. Interview B111.
480
186
be strong enough to challenge. This was done by giving the F-TNI/POLRI one
candidate to elect.
In the Regency of Mangliawan (pseudonym), the case was quite similar. The
military faction proposed two teams of Bupati and Vice-Bupati candidates; the first
pair only gained one vote, the other five. One respondent who was a relative of the
Bupati candidate who gained only one vote revealed that the candidate had spent
a large amount of money, said to be “three billion” rupiah, to help the military
faction in lobbying, looking for other factions’ support, but failed. Other factions
were divided into two alliances, led respectively by the F-KB and the F-DIP, which
gained an equal number of votes, nineteen each. However, the respondent said
that although the military faction appeared weak, the members were lucky
because there was no victor yet; so when the second round of voting was held to
choose between the two candidate teams with the equal largest votes in the first
round, the military’s support became vital to win the election, whichever side they
gave their votes to would win the election.481 Nevertheless, the significance of the
military faction in the second voting was just as a supporting group, not a leading
group to be supported as in the New Order. As in Trenggalek, the military faction
in Mangliawan was unsuccessful in bringing its own candidate to win the election.
In the 2003 election of the Regency of Ngantang (pseudonym), the military faction
produced five invalid votes in voting for the two competing candidates, indicating a
frustrated attitude in dealing with big factions. One member of the faction revealed
that they did this because they were disappointed by the decisions made by other
factions to propose candidates that in the military faction’s view were unqualified.
Although the faction did not like the candidates there was not much they could do
to stop them, so they made their votes invalid.482 One senior officer of the local
481
Asked whether the military faction was able to design the conditions in order to get to this second voting, the
respondent was not sure, but he said he got information that the winner spent no less than “fifteen billion” rupiah.
(Interview B111, a Pasuruan District bureaucracy official). In another interview with a military respondent, but in a
different District the respondent mentioned that the military faction created a situation where two affiliations had
equal numbers. The respondent said that they did so by secretly convincing each side that if the group could build
at least eighteen members, the military faction (five members) would join them and with twenty three members
they would win. Interview M103.
482
An alliance of two large factions, F-KB and F-DIP, dominated this election. This alliance proposed a single
team of a Regent candidate A from the PDIP and a Vice-Regent candidate from the PKB. Another alliance was
187
Territorial Command said that the Headquarters was disappointed at the faction’s
decision. Firstly, the faction wasted their voting rights but achieved nothing
because the decision did not influence the outcomes. Secondly, the “childish
decision” did not contribute any good to the future relations between the elected
District Head and his supporting factions on one hand, and the local military units
on another hand. The respondent suspected that the faction made the decision
because of a difference in the amount of money as a concession for the
support.483 However, one of the faction’s members said that it was not about
money but about the principle regarding the quality of the candidates. He said that
because of the decision, they were visited by an officer sent by the Headquarters
to investigate what happened. The respondent said that the territorial officers
thought that the faction received the money but did not want “to share” (bagi–bagi
rezeki). The officer asked him why the faction in Ngantang was unlike the military
factions in other Districts and did not share the “election result” (meaning money).
Regardless of whether or not the military was involved in the money politics (this
issue is discussed in the next chapter), at this stage it is important to note that the
Ngantang case shows how weak the military faction had become in influencing
the election result.
4. Conclusion
The Pilkada cases presented above demonstrated the rapid decline in influence of
the military institution in local political affairs. This decline was influenced by the
changes in the number of the appointed military representatives in the DPRD in
favour of (new) political parties, the change in the Pilkada regulations from those
led by Golkar, but this second one was manipulated by the first by sending a candidate B to register through
Golkar, but with the purpose of his being defeated. By doing this, he prevented Golkar proposing an ambitious
candidate that might be strong enough to challenge the PDIP’s candidate. Asked about how he could manage to
be defeated, the respondent said that as soon as the official list of candidates was issued in a DPRD decree the
faction could no longer change and propose another candidate so, after this decree was issued, the candidate B
could begin his self-destructive action, for example, by refusing the previous deals so that the proposing faction
did not vote for him. The respondent said that after the selection process, the military faction was the only faction
that was “actively and fairly” conducting a fit and proper test of all registered candidates. As the result the faction
produced a list of rankings based on their achievement in the test. The list was forwarded to other factions to
consider, but these other factions ignored it and proposed two candidates who were ranked among the lowest
ones. Interview R89.
483
The respondent said that “childish” refers to an attitude among the military faction members who felt irritated
when the civilian factions said they did not need the support from the military faction (tidak perlu dukungan TNI).
Interview M92.
188
that legitimized the dominant roles of the military institutions to those that restricted
them, and the growing power of the civilian political communities. In the 1998
Sumbersari Pilkada case, although the military power was limited, mainly by public
pressure and the growing challenge from the civilian factions in the DPRD, the
military was still able to determine the outcome of the Pilkada, because the
Pilkada regulations provided the military with strong authority to do so, and the
local military officers involved were still obliged by their headquarters to struggle for
the victory. In the 1999/2000 Ngadiredjo case, the military power was limited by
several changes mentioned above, especially new power constellations and new
rules and regulations for the Pilkada, therefore, despite some efforts by the local
military, including intimidations and briberies, but with a declined support from the
KODAM, the military Bupati candidate was defeated. Even more in the remaining
cases since 2000, the military faction in most of the Districts became a minor
player, either because of the emergence of a single majority faction or because
big civilian factions formed an affiliation and left the military faction out. This
encouraging declining trend at the institutional level was, however, only half of the
picture of the military involvement in the local elections. A discouraging part of the
picture, portraying involvements at individual level that highlight problems of
minimizing the military’s political influence and problems of building a democratic
local election, is presented in the next chapter.
Chapter Eight
MILITARY INVOLVEMENT IN ELECTIONS OF DISTRICT
GOVERNMENT HEADS (2): The rise of personal politics
Some of the F-DIP members came to us [F-TNI/POLRI members]
asking for supports, and I told them, if they could increase their group
members to twenty [a half of the DPRD members without F-TNI/POLRI],
then we would join their group, because we do not want to side with the
loser.484
484
Interview M53 (a member of the F-TNI/POLRI of Mantingan, 1999-2004). The group was formed by several
the F-DIP members who did not agree with the rest of the faction proposing a former-Golkar Bupati to run for a
second term, and instead proposed one of the F-DIP’s own cadre who was the Speaker of the Mantingan DPRD.
189
I was threatened [by a local territorial commander] to be recalled from my
position as the member of the F-TNI/POLRI if I did not vote for the
candidate that he asked me to, but I did not care because I had already
reported that problem to my own commander [who promoted him to the
F-TNI/POLRI member in the first place] and he backed my position.485
1. Introduction: The dissolving of a pattern
The marked decline of the military’s political roles in the post-Soeharto era (as
presented in the previous three chapters) included a drastic weakening of its
institutional control486 over the political behaviours of officers who were still active
in political matters, such as in the Pilkada. This will be discussed below. As
mentioned earlier, the previous specific guidance from the military headquarters,
for example about which factions or candidates the military had to support or with
which factions it should affiliate, was stopped. As examples of the response, the
first quote above suggests a pragmatic (inconsistent) consideration depending on
who would win or lose, the second suggests the decreased level of internal
solidity. As Table VIII.1 shows, there was not a clear pattern of aspirations of the
remaining military factions and they could affiliate with any party.
Table VIII.1: Military Affiliation and Aspiration in East Java District Elections
January 2000 – December 2003
Bigges Factions that the military affiliated
Regencies
t
with
(R)/
faction
Proposed
F- F- F- F- FCities (C)
District
K DI Go P PA
Head
B P
l
P N
candidate
Lamongan
F-KB
X
X PAN
Resu
lt
Win
This dissident group was unsuccessful although my respondent from this group claimed that they had already
managed to gain twenty members by lobbying other factions’ members, and did not know what the F-TNI/POLRI
members voted for. Interview D67 (the Speaker of the Mantingan DPRD and an F-DIP member).
485
Interview M38 (a member of the F-TNI/POLRI of Buluhlawang, 1999-2004). This case is discussed in section
6.
486
In Chapter Two (Table III.2, p. 26) and Chapter Three (p. 47), I highlighted military factionalism and the weak
institutional control as an important factor that influenced the military intervention into or withdrawal from politics. In
this chapter, therefore, it is quite relevant to ask the question of whether or not a similar indication was found
during the processes of the local elections.
190
(R), 01-00
Gresik
(R), 01-00
Surabaya
(C), 02-00
Jember
(R), 02-00
Situbondo
(R), 02-00
Ponorogo
(R), 03-00
Sumenep
(R), 05-00
Banyuwan
gi (R), 0500
Blitar
(C), 07-00
Sampang
(R), 07-00
Trenggalek
(R), 08-00
Pacitan
(R), 09-00
Mojokerto
(R), 09-00
Sidoarjo
(R), 09-00
Malang
(R), 01-00
Blitar
(R), 12-00
Probolingg
o (C), 1200
Kediri
(C),12-00
Kediri
(R), -00
Pasuruan
(C),12-00
Tuban
(R), 05-01
Batu
(C), 11-02
Bangkalan
(R), 01-03
Bojonegoro
F-KB
No affiliation
F-DIP
X
F-KB
X
F-KB
X
F-DIP
politician
Retired
military* (d)
Active
military*
Lose
Lose
X
X
X
PKB
politician
Bureaucrat
Win
Retired
military*
Retired
military (d)
Lose
Win
F-KB
X
F-KB
No affiliation
F-DIP
X
X
X
Bureaucrat*
Lose
X
X
X
Retired
police* (d)
Bureaucrat*
Lose
F-KB
X
F-KB
No affiliation
F-DIP
X
Lose
Win
F-DIP
Private
businessm
an
Bureaucrat
F-DIP
Bureaucrat
Win
F-DIP
X
Lose
No affiliation
F-DIP
Businessman* (d)
X
X
Businessm
an*
Win
Lose
Lose
F-DIP
F-DIP
F-DIP
Data not available
F-KB
X
F-DIP
X
X
F-DIP
X
F-KB
X
F-DIP
X
X
X
X
X
Lose
Politician
Win
Bureaucrat
Win
PKB
politician
Retired
Win
Win
191
(R), -01-03
Probolingg
o (R), 0103
Nganjuk
(R), 03-03
Pamekasa
n (R), 0323
Tulungagu
ng (R),10403
Pasuruan
(R), 05-03
Madiun
(R), 07-03
Magetan
(R), 07-03
Lumajang
(R), 08-03
Jombang
(R), -03
Bondowos
o (R), -03
Total
F-KB
F-DIP
F-PP
military (d)
PKB
politician
X
No affiliation
X
X
F-DIP
X
F-KB
X
X
F-DIP
X
X
F-DIP
X
X
X
X
X
X
F-DIP
Win
No
preference
Bureaucrat
(d)
Lose
Bureaucrat
Lose
Retired
military
Bureaucrat
Lose
Bureaucrat
(d)
Bureaucrat
Lose
Bureaucrat
Lose
Lose
Win
Win
F-DIP
F-KB
7
X
X
X
X
13
13
7
8
Notes:
Only 34 of the total 38 district elections are listed as the other 4 had taken place
before the effective change of regime in 1999 with the halving of the size of the
military factions in each DPRD (see Chapter Seven).
*
Military faction proposed its own candidates
(d)
Military faction members divided
Although it could have been considered appropriate in principle for the military
faction to support the biggest faction because this represented the biggest group
of society, the table shows that it did not always do so. Of the thirty eight elections,
in at least twenty three cases it did not support the biggest faction (eleven were FKB, twelve F-DIP). In addition, the military factions’ positions in the Pilkada were
not necessarily following the military’s relations with other parties at the national
level.487 Moreover, the military factions were not obviously more likely to support
487
In the National Parliament, the military representatives on several occasions had sided against the F-DIP,
including in the F-DIP’s efforts to gain success for Megawati as President in 1999. The military faction at the
192
the F-KB during the Presidency of Abdurrahaman Wahid (the national Chairman
of the PKB) from October 1999 to July 2001 nor to side with the F-DIP during the
Presidency of Megawati (the national Chairman of the PDIP) from July 2001 to
September 2004. So, there were no obvious indications on how the military
position in the local level Pilkada was connected to party-political events at the
central level.
2. Reasons for military support of candidates
A member of the military faction of the Malang District DPRD said that the
military’s national Headquarters never gave an instruction, but there was a
common sense among the faction members about how they should choose the
candidate to support.488 Firstly, the candidate had to have a strong political
(Pancasila) ideology and strong nationalism. This, perhaps, explains why the
military factions seem to have been more comfortable affiliating with Golkar and
the F-DIP (both of which have a clear secular nationalist ideology) than the F-KB
(ambiguous about the relationship between its nationalism and Islamic ideology),
although after more than a year the military began to affiliate with F-KB. It also
suggests why before 2001, especially when the military was allowed to propose its
own candidate489, most candidates supported by the military faction were either
military officers or bureaucrats (see Table VIII.2).
Secondly, the candidate had to be the most probable candidate to win. So the
candidate did not have to be proposed by the biggest faction, although it would be
an additional credit for him. Arguments about his personal capacity to be the
District Head and whether there were sufficient resources to support him (to lobby
the Assembly members), mainly financially, had to be able to convince FTNI/POLRI members that these factors could bring him to victory. So, a retired
military or bureaucrat was not necessarily supported by the F-TNI/POLRI if he
seemed to have little chance of winning.
national level seemed to take a position closer to the F-KB than to the F-DIP, especially in the early months of the
administration of Wahid.
488
Interview M95.
489
From 2001 on the F-TNI/POLRI were prohibited from proposing any candidate and military officers were not
allowed to register as candidates for District Heads before they had quit the military.
193
Thirdly, the candidate did not face a strong rejection from the public, so that if he
won his victory would not destabilize the politics and security in the district.
However, as will be seen later, the above criteria were very open to multiple
interpretations and in fact, what determined the military position in each Pilkada
appears to have been based at least as much as on individual judgements than
institutional guidance.
194
Table VIII.2: Military support for officers competing to be East Java
District Heads
May 1998 – December 2003
Regency/City
Election
Dates
Malang (C)
Mojokerto (C)
Madiun (C)
Ngawi
10-11-99
Lamongan
Gresik
27-01-00
Surabaya (C)
07-02-2000
Jember
12-02-00
Situbondo
17-02-00
Ponorogo
11-03-00
Sumenep
03-05-00
Banyuwangi
3-05-00
Blitar (C)
01-07-00
Sampang
22-07-00
Existing Military District Heads/
Period Elected to Office/
Reason for Leaving
Ret.Col.Susamto/1978-1998)/
Completed
two terms in office
Led by civilian since 1994
Led by civilian since 1993
Col. Subagio SW/19941999/Retired 1999
after failing to get approval from the
MHA
Led by civilian since 1996.
Officers registered
as candidates
(Officers supported
by military
highlighted)
(Won=W; Lost=L)
Col. Suyitno (W);
Col. Hatta;
None
None
Col.Subagio SW;
Col.Sudharsono (L);
Col.Sudibyo
Col.Marine.X [Name
not available] (L)
Col.Navy. Ret. Soewarso/1996Col.Suwarso (L),
2000/
Col.Marine.Mansyur
Retired 2000 after losing in the 2000 Ch;
Election
Ltc.Sumartono
Col. Sunarto Sumoprawiro/1996Col.Sunarto
2002/
Sumoprawiro;
Re-elected in 2000, but died of
Col.Bambang
sickness in Australia in the middle of Satriawan;
second term of
Col.Marine Budhiarto
office (2002).
Machrup (L)
Col.Winarno/1994-2000/Retired
Col.Winarno (L);
2000
Col.Giyono Sutomo
after losing in the 2000 election
Col.Ret. Sudaryanto/ Returned to
None
his
military unit in 2000
Name not available.
None
Col.S.Marsaid/1996-2000/Retired
Col.S.Marsaid (L)
after
losing in the 2000 election.
Col. HT. Purnomo Sidiq/1995-2002. None
Resigned in 2000
Led by civilian.
None
Col.Police.Fadillah.Budiono/19952005/
Col.Fadillah Budiono
(W),
195
Re-elected in 2000
Trenggalek
25-08-00
Pacitan
18-09-00
Led by civilian.
Mojokerto
23-9-00
Sidoarjo
28-09-00
Led by civilian.
Malang,
04-01-00
Blitar
06-12-00
Probolinggo
(C)
Kediri (C)
Kediri (R)
Pasuruan (C)
2000
Tuban,
08-05-01
Batu (C)
2002
Bangkalan,
06-01-03
Bojonegoro,
10-01-03
Probolinggo,
18-01-03
Nganjuk
12-03-03
Pamekasan,
Tulungagung
Pasuruan
31-05-03
Madiun
Col.Ret. Sutjipto/1995-2000/Retired
after losing in the 2000 election.
Ltc.Abdullah;
Col. Syamsudin
None
Colonel Sutjipto (L),
not supported by the
military
None
Col. Ret. Sudjito/1995-2000/Retired
in 2000,
did not take part in 2000 election
Col. H.A. Said (1990-2000)/Retired
in 2000
after completing two periods in
office
Led civilian
None
Led by civilian.
None
Led by civilian since 1998.
Led by civilian
Name not available.
None
None
None
Col. Ret. Indarto/19962001/Retired and
failed to register in 2001
Led by civilian since 2002 (newly
created
city)
Col.Marine.H.A.Fatah/19952003/Retired in 2000, did not
register in the 2003 election
Col.H. M. Santoso/2003present/Retired
2000 after losing in Sidoarjo,then
elected
here in 2003
Col.Murhadi/1998-2003/Retired
2000, did not register in the 2003
election
Col.Ret.Sutrisno/1998-2003/Retired
in 2000,did not participate (Data
about reason is not available)
Led by civilian since 1998.
Led by civilian since 1987
Col. Ret. Dade Angga/ 19982003/Retired 2000, lost in 2003
Led by civilian since 1998
None
None
None
None
None
Col.Santoso (W)
None
None
None
None
Col.Dade Angga (L)
None
196
Magetan
Lumajang
Jombang
2003
Led by civilian since 1998
Led by civilian since 1998
Col. Afandi/ 1998-2003/Retired
2000, lost in 2003 election
Bondowoso
2003
Led by civilian since 1998
None
None
Col.Affandi (L), not
supported by the
military
None
3. Shifting to individual orientations
In the stated view of an F-KB member, a main factor that encouraged the shift
toward an individual orientation was that “as an institution the military no longer set
a victory as a specific target to be achieved by the faction members”.490 A military
respondent told me that, on one hand, the broad institutional policy as well as
public demands required all officers to stay neutral politically; on the other hand,
the job description of the military representatives or of territorial commanders
allowed them to remain active in politics.491 It was individual interests, however,
that drove them to choose between neutrality and involvement. For example,
when there were no significant individual benefits, they stayed away and justified
their inactivity by using the neutrality position. If, however, they thought they could
make money from the involvements, especially in election cases, they used the
position of being the representative members to justify involvement. As one
respondent said, winning the election was not always the primary goal of the
military faction; sometimes they could gain better individual benefits by siding with
the defeated groups, especially when the groups possessed larger financial
resources and were more generous.492 As the issues of the individual motives are
discussed in detail in the next sections, here it is only necessary to note that these
personal orientations contributed as a significant reason to the failures of the
military in the elections.
490
Interview on 14-04-2003 with Ahmad Syafii’, Deputy Chairman of the Malang City DPRD.
Interview M50.
492
Interview M89. The respondent said, usually before the voting stage the candidate or the financial sponsor of
the candidate would spend a large amount of money for campaigns and lobbying, the political activities where the
supporting faction could be given money, because the spending for these activities was rarely audited. So, even
though the candidate was later defeated, the supporting factions could still get lots of money.
491
197
Nevertheless, more important than the issue of which candidate would be
supported was the degree of the involvement that the officers should have had.
Many officers who had varied characters and interests were skilful enough to
justify their deep political involvement, although they could have minimized their
political activity had they really been inclined to support the institutional
commitment to leave politics. Economic orientation became a common drive for
the officers in their political actions in most Districts. Frequently, different individual
interests also surpassed the basic sense of group unity and loyalty, either among
the F-TNI/POLRI members or between the faction and the territorial officers
connected to the Pilkada. As seen in Table VIII.1, in at least seven cases the
military faction members were divided into different competing groups. The
following two sections of this chapter demonstrate some features of the active
individual involvements of the members of the military factions, in contrast to the
declining institutional influence discussed in the previous chapter.
4. Involvement in civilian political conflicts
The Sumberwaras Regency election was one of the cases where the military
representatives were actively involved and divided into different groups. The case
suggests that once the military elites had sided with one or more of the conflicting
parties it was difficult for them to play a role as “the political stabilizer” (stabilisator
politik), that used to be a part of New Order ideology. More importantly, it
complicated the efforts of minimizing the military’s political involvement. The
military political activities around the Sumberwaras Pilkada process in 2000, and
around its disputed result the year after, demonstrate how the military was
contributing to the political and security instability in the District. First, the voices of
the military faction members of the local Assembly were divided into two blocks,
each siding with one of the two competing Islamic groups; a group of three with
the F-KB (the faction of the National Awakening Party, PKB) and a group of two
with the F-PP (the faction of the United Development Party, PPP).493 Second, the
Dandim (District Military Commander) of Sumberwaras, Ltc. Herdi, who should
493
Two of the F-TNI/POLRI members: Ltc.Pantje, and Ltc.Muchalib (the then faction Chairman) sided with the FPP, while three others: Ltc.Suganda, Ltc. Sumanto and Ltc. Syahrir with the F-KB. Interview M59 (the
Spokesperson of the military faction).
198
have been a supervisor over the faction was busy with his own ambition to register
as a Bupati (District Head) candidate. His relations with the military faction tensed
because they did not support his plan to register as their candidate.494 Third, a
senior officer in the provincial KODAM Headquarters, Colonel Suharno “secretly
promised the F-KB that the members of the F-TNI/POLRI would support F-KB”495,
but failed to meet this promise at the voting stage.
In the previously normal line of command procedure, the KODAM, the Provincial
Regional Command, gave an instruction about the military position to be taken in
the election; and the F-TNI/POLRI members obeyed the instruction; while the
more local District Command (KODIM) assisted in controlling the faction in order
to comply with it. If this procedure prevailed, it would have been easy to think of
the military as an integrated, solid body; and whether or not the military is to be
involved in politics is mainly a matter of what kind of instruction is given. In reality,
the KODAM as an institution was not involved in this election, but a powerful
officer as an individual in the Headquarters misused his authority in pursuing his
individual involvement; while the subordinate officers who were the faction’s
members did not totally obey the instruction, nor did the KODIM District
Commander fully fulfil his obligation as the supervisor on behalf of that senior
officer of the KODAM. Individual officers were driven by their own personal
interests instead of by a clear unity of command.
However, the implementation of the reformasi idea of cutting the military links to
day-to-day political activities could not be burdened solely on the military, the
civilian society shared the responsibility. Unfortunately, the Sumberwaras Pilkada
case demonstrated that civilian politicians practiced the same paradoxical
behaviour because of their immediate interests in power. In late December 1999,
a visit by the Campaign Team of the PKB to the Surabaya Makodam (KODAM
Headquarters), for example, drew this institution back towards the electoral
competition. In a meeting with a senior officer, Colonel Suharno, the Team
494
Ltc.Herdi was the Dandim of Sumberwaras at the time of the Bupati election, and was ambitious to join the
competition for the Bupati position. However, his approach to the faction was turned down by its members.
Interview:M59.
495
The promise was revealed in an interview with the Chairman of the F-KB Team (Interview K58).
199
“expressed the F-KB’s aspiration” and called for the military to support the F-KB in
the election.496 Belief in the KODAM‘s power over the members of the FTNI/POLRI in the Sumberwaras DPRD had led the PKB Team to this lobbying. In
addition to the visit, which defined the military as still continuing to be an important
political player and would have pulled the KODAM back into politics, the F-KB
offered a deal in return for support, which was antithetical to the national-level
efforts to get the military out of politics. The concession put forwarded by the Team
was that PKB would elect any Bupati candidate from the military “who was
appointed by Colonel Suharno”.
Similarly, Colonel Suharno’s acceptance of the deal offered by the PKB indicated
a lack of commitment by the military to really withdraw from politics. Furthermore,
an appointment of his former personal assistant, Retired Ltc.Abidin, as the
Candidate could easily create negative suspicions, as if he was expecting more
returns from their personal relationship in the future if his appointee candidate
succeeded in the election.497 However, although all members of the F-TNI/POLRI
were instructed to vote for Ret.Ltc.Abidin,498 two of the five members of the faction
had conflicting individual interests which made them take different lines.
Ltc.Muchalib, the Chairman of the faction, had already made a personal
commitment to vote for another candidate, the police officer Ltc.Fadli Bianto, who
was being proposed by the F-PP. The reason behind this was very personal;
Ltc.Muchalib owed Ltc.Fadli Bianto for helping his son to be accepted as a student
at AKPOL, the prestigious Police Academy, in Semarang, Central Java, two years
496
As the Chief of the Campaign Team for the F-PKB, Farid Mubakir held meetings with the Party’s Dewan
Syuro (the most influential body for decision making within the PKB) in preparation for the Bupati election and
these meetings decided that the Team had to meet a powerful officer in the KODAM in Surabaya. The decision to
take a Bupati candidate from the military was not only because of lack of self confidence among the F-KB
members, but also because the opposing group powered by the F-PP had taken a police officer, Ltc. Fadli Bianto
as their Bupati candidate. It was thought by PKB members that the people of Sumberwaras would accept the
military better than the police. Another reason was because, compared to other factions, this faction was a bit late
in carrying out its internal consolidation for the Bupati election. Besides, it was believed that with Abdurrahman
Wahid having the position as President, it would be easier for the F-KB to link their interests (intended support) to
the military. Interview K58, with the Chairman of the faction’s Campaign Team.
497
A reason for the appointment given to me verbally was that, “he was a Madurese-born, mixed-ArabicIndonesian who was quite religious, and who was expected to be widely accepted by Sumberwaras’ religious
people”. Interview K58.
498
A few days after the visit by the F-KB Team to the KODAM, all five members of the F-TNI/POLRI were
instructed to meet their Pangdam in Surabaya. The faction members were instructed to “secure” (amankan) the
policy to support the F-KB. In early January 2000, their Danrem (local sub-area commander) came to the FTNI/POLRI office and re-emphasized the message from the Pangdam about what was to be the military position
in the election. Interview M59.
200
before499. Another member of the faction, Ltc.Pantje, initially had ambitions to
enter the Bupati competition himself, but then cancelled his registration and
decided to support Ltc.Fadli Bianto who once had been his direct superior officer
when they were both serving at the AKPOL. Thus, both these officers had their
own reasons for deviating from the Pangdam’s instruction to support the F-KB
candidate, Ret.Ltc.Abidin. The disobeying by some officers of their superior’s
instruction in the Pilkada shows that officers may ignore the national (but
apparently not regional) institutional commitment to leave politics if by doing so
they could pursue their personal interests. So, in addition to the fact that the
KODAM headquarters could not restrain itself from being involved in politics, it
could not fully control the political activities of its officers at the District level, and
this added another problem to the efforts of withdrawing the military entirely from
politics.
The difficulty that the KODAM headquarters had in controlling the political activities
of the members of the F-TNI/POLRI in this District was also complicated by the
ineffectiveness of the District Military Command. As already mentioned, normally,
the KODAM would delegate its direct control over these faction’s members to their
District Commander. However, instead of carrying out the necessary supervision
over the faction to ensure it would support Ret.Ltc.Abidin, the District Commander,
Ltc.Herdi, attempted to use the faction for achieving his own ambition for the
Bupati office. The appointment of Ret.Ltc.Abidin by Colonel Suharno as a
candidate to go forward, publicly through the F-KB, was viewed as the reason why
a permission letter proposed by and for Ltc.Herdi to the KODAM in order to enable
him to register as a candidate was not issued until after the registration
deadline.500 Ltc.Pantje and Ltc.Muchalib, who had decided to support Ltc.Fadli
Bianto, undermined the instruction from their Komando, as well as the intention of
Ltc.Herdi, their KODIM Commander, to use the F-TNI/POLRI as his political
vehicle for joining in the competition.501 He had badly misjudged the situation. He
499
Indications that Ltc.Muchalib would support Ltc.Fadli Bianto had been noticed by F-PKB members. In several
conversations with F-KB members he had given signs of this, once stating implicitly that he had to do that. Yet,
although the F-KB members understood the situation he was in, they were not so sure that he would be brave
enough to disobey his Pangdam’s instruction. Interview M58.
500
Interview M59.
501
Ltc.Herdi, the Dandim of Sumberwaras came several times to the F-TNI/POLRI office, expressing his intention
to register as a Bupati candidate through the faction. However, Ltc.Muchalib, the Chairman of the faction never
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was ignored by the F-TNI/POLRI members but, because he had expected that
the F-TNI/POLRI would support him, he had previously refused an offer from the
F-KB to propose him as their Bupati candidate and so the appointment by Colonel
Suharno of Ret.Ltc.Abidin to the F-KB faction’s place - which could have been his
- was enough reason for him not to be committed to Abidin’s success in the
election.502 In fact, shortly before the day of the election, he was replaced as the
Dandim by another officer and was moved to the KODAM Headquarters in
Surabaya, which could indicate that Colonel Suharno had some doubts about
Ltc.Herdi’s readiness to support Ret.Ltc.Abidin as a candidate.
When Ret.Ltc.Abidin was removed from the list of candidates at the first stage of
the selection503, Colonel Suharno’s mood toward the election also turned down.
Some members of the F-KB, however, seemed to be unaware of the extent to
which changes in political interests could affect political relations. Pressured by a
three-day dateline for changing their candidate, the F-KB proposed
Ret.Col.Syamsul Arifin as a substitute for Ret.Ltc.Abidin to the Election
Committee, but without consulting in advance with Colonel Suharno about this
replacement.504 One military respondent thought that the change in mood was
caused by the F-KB’s unilateral decision to replace Ret.Ltc.Abidin with someone
who was unacceptable to Colonel Suharno. In fact, he said that after the failure of
Ret.Ltc.Abidin, Colonel Suharno “seemed to permit a free choice to the military
gave serious attention to it, keeping arguing that in the current political condition (reformation era) the FTNI/POLRI could no longer promise any support to a military officer wanting to run for a Bupati position in the
election. Interview M58.
502
Before the Campaign Team of the F-KB met the KODAM’s powerful officer, Col. Suharno, who then
appointed Ret.Ltc. Abidin to be their Bupati candidate, some of its members had approached Ltc.Herdi about this
position, but he refused because he wanted to go forward through the F-TNI/POLRI. Interview M58.
503
The rejection of Abidin was based on a letter from the Sumberwaras Education and Culture Service which
stated that his High School Certificate was invalid. This letter was received by the Election Committee just three
days before the administrative deadline for candidature submission. Many speculations emerged about the arrival
of the letter. Some said it was a political conspiracy that involved Fadli Bianto’s groups, some blamed the military
for not seriously providing a Bupati candidate for the F-KB, some others suspected that Ltc.Abdin himself was
involved for financial reasons but, at the time of the interviews, no one could prove those theories. Interview B57
(the DPRD Secretary, who was a member of the Election Committee).
504
The name of Syamsul Arifin had previously emerged from what was called the F-GAB, the Combined Faction
with 5 members: 2 from Golkar and 1 each from PNU, PKU and PAN. However, because of internal conflict this
faction cancelled proposing any candidate. The 3 from Golkar and the PKU moved to the Fadli Bianto group,
which had also been joined by the F-PP and F-DIP. The F-KB, which was still shocked and confused about the
sudden news brought about by the Education and Culture Service’s letter, accepted the offer of Syamsul Arifin to
replace Abidin. The other two of the F-GAB members stated their intentions to join the F-KB, but at the election
only one supported Ret.Col.Syamsul Arifin. The F-KB with 18 members got a total of only 22 votes for him (with
the additional 4 being 3 from the F-TNI/POLRI and only 1 from the newcomer). Some F-KB members later
suspected that Syamsul Arifin and the two newcomers were a part of a conspiracy to defeat the F-KB. Interview
M58.
202
faction”.505 He did not seem to give his support to Ret.Col.Syamsul Arifin as
strongly as he had supported Ret.Ltc.Abidin, a change which the F-KB members
were not aware of. The Chairman of the F-KB Team which had previously met
with Colonel Suharno admitted that until the outcome of the election was
announced, they had “trusted what Colonel Suharno had promised, that the FTNI/ POLRI members would vote for the F-KB side”. Furthermore, the PKB
members thought that it would be unlikely that Colonel Suharno would take a
position that might irritate the PKB President Abdurrahman Wahid’s feelings, that
is, by changing his position. In fact, the election produced different a result from
what the F-KB had expected.
Among the members of the F-TNI/ POLRI it was suggested that subtle disloyalties
by the subordinate officers toward their superior officers did not come to the
surface overtly, unless the superiors gave signs of losing control and gave the
chance for disloyalties to appear. Only after finding out that Colonel Suharno no
longer assigned a clear and firm position for the TNI/ POLRI faction members, did
Ltc.Pantje and Ltc.Muchalib make public that the former was intending to put
himself forward as a Bupati Candidate representing the F-TNI/POLRI, while the
latter was on the side of Ltc.Fadli Bianto.506
Some members of the F-KB were aware that two F-TNI/POLRI members were in
the opposing camp, but they were still optimistic about winning the election. Firstly,
because there was the secret deal with three members (one from each of PAN,
PNU and PDIP) of the opponent group who agreed to support F-PKB for their
own reasons,507 The F-KB predicted that it would win the election with 24 of the
45 votes, consisting of the F-KB 18, the F-TNI/POLRI 3 and the new (secret) deal
3. However, the politics was too unpredictable; the F-KB candidate team was
505
Ltc.Pantje, who was not pleased with the intervention by the Pangdam, claimed that he had asked several
times whether the military would stay in its previous position, backing the F-KB, but had found no definite answer
from the HQ. He assumed that the members were freed to go on their own, which was why he was brave
enough to register himself as a Bupati candidate from the F-TNI/POLRI. Interview M59.
506
The cancellation of the registration of Ltc. Pantje a Bupati candidate from the F-TNI/POLRI, was also a result
of personal persuasion, by Ltc.Muchalib, the Chairman of the faction. Interview with Ltc. Pantje, 10-07-2003.
507
This respondent did not reveal what the reasons were for them to move and what concessions they had been
promised from the deal in the beginning. Yet, he expressed his suspicion that it was a part of the opponents’
strategy to send these three men to pretend that they were on the side of the F-KB. In fact, he said, the idea to
take Ret.Col.Syamsul Arifin as the one to replace Ltc.Abidin came from them. In connection to this, further, he
also said that it was also possible that this proposed candidate was delivered to the F-KB side for the favour of
Ltc.Fadli Bianto, as both candidates were retired police officers who might have personal deals.
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defeated with only 22 votes against 23. It was this reality that most of the F-KB
members could not accept. Being the biggest faction in the DPRD, having been
supported by President Wahid, the National Chairman of the PKB, and having
been promised by Colonel Suharno of the KODAM of support from the FTNI/POLRI, the result was totally outside of their prediction.
In the Sumberwaras Election it was shown that all political competitors agreed to
follow a democratic procedure in conducting the succession of the local leader, but
did not agree to accept whatever result might be produced by that procedure.
Disappointment because of a defeat led to efforts to invalidate the election result
and attempts to re-hold the election so that the loser could become the victor. To
achieve this, a reason that could be used to challenge the validity of the outcome
of the election would have to be found. Once this was achieved, a strategy would
also have to be designed to ensure a victory in the re-election. The F-KB
Campaign Team found a way of protesting the election result. They found that
one voter (from the F-AN) for their successful opponent had ended his
membership, thereby losing his voting right, before the election.508 Their argument
for the re-election was that, if that invalid vote was excluded, then the voting would
have been equal, 22 : 22, and with this result the election rule dictated that the
election would have to be restarted. Two days after the election Fahmi Markan
and other members of the PKB went to Jakarta to submit the complaint letter to
the Minister of Home Affairs.509
Yet, even if this demand were met, this would not itself be enough to bring victory
to the F-KB. In order to win the election it would need at least one additional
member to vote for its candidate team. The F-KB decided that the additional vote
would be sought from the military. On the next day, F-KB members met the
Pangdam in Surabaya and questioned his previous commitment and assurance
for the victory of the F-KB at the just-held election. According to the chairman of
the team, they also demanded that Colonel Suharno accepted responsibility for
the involvement and contribution of his officers to the defeat of the F-KB. In this
508
The respondent said that before the election some members of the F-KB had known that this voting Assembly
member had terminated, but they did not see it as important at that time to take any action because they were
convinced that they would win the election. Interview K58.
509
Interview K58.
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meeting Colonel Suharno agreed with the idea of re-election, and again gave an
assurance that the military would support the F-KB.510
Shortly after the meeting, the KODAM issued a recall letter which removed
Ltc.Muchalib from the F-TNI/POLRI and “proposed to replace him with an officer
who would support the F-KB”.511 Yet according to the Law512 regarding the
replacement of DPRD members, the replacement become effective only after the
Chairman of the DPRD signed the resignation letters. Ltc.Muchalib’s “resignation”
faced an obstacle when the Chairman of DPRD, who was a member of the F-PP,
was disinclined to sign the letter because he understood that the recall would be a
disadvantage for his faction which had just won the election. Instead of signing the
letter, he launched a revenge move by blowing up a “scandal” of another member
of the F-TNI/ POLRI, Ltc.Suganda who had supported the F-KB then demanding
that the KODAM recall Ltc.Suganda too. After prolonged uncertainty, and no
response by the Chairman of the DPRD to three letters sent by the Headquarters
about the recalling of Ltc.Muchalib, some military police personnel were sent to
Sumberwaras to pick up Ltc.Muchalib by force, while Ltc.Suganda was kept there.
So, the Law was not able to stop the military Headquarters using force to pick up
Ltc.Muchalib, and a double standard was applied in the cases of the two officers,
with both biasses in favour of the F-KB.
Initial efforts by the F-KB team to get support for the idea of re-election seemed to
have produced successful results. The members of the F-KB claimed that the
Director General of Regional Autonomy, an official who, on behalf of the Minister
of Home Affairs, has authority to verify election results, agreed with them. They
also claimed to have support from the Governor of East Java, and from President
Wahid, the founder of their party. However, because the rest of the factions
opposed the idea of re-election, it was then decided to bring the dispute to the
PTUN (State Administrative Court). However, on 26th October 2000 this Court
510
Interview K58.
As an indication of the complexity of personal interests apparently involved in the relationships between
institutions it should be noted that the recall letter for Ltc.Muchalib sent to the DPRD was, on behalf of the
Pangdam, signed by Ltc.Herdi, the former Dandim who had been turned down when he stated his intention to
register as a Regent Candidate through the F-TNI/POLRI faction - by Ltc.Muchalib who was the Chairman of the
faction. Ltc.Herdi was now was in charge of the Personnel Staff and, finally, seemed to have found a way of
revenging himself against Ltc.Muchalib.
512
The Law No. 4/1999 about the Composition and the Structure of Parliament (MPR, DPR and DPRD).
511
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announced its decision, disapproving the idea of re-election. Based on this
decision the Governor of East Java decided to inaugurate the newly-elected
Regent, Ltc.Fadli Bianto. In a violent reaction, the night before the Inauguration
Ceremony, F-KB supporters burned down the DPRD buildings where the
ceremony was to be held.
The burnings indicated the frustration of the F-KB after their failure in overturning
their loss. The riots also indicated the weakness of the security forces. Local police
and military units were not only very small in number in the Sumberwaras District,
but they were also unsure about what to do. The local police was aware of the
public view that it was linked with the elected Regent who had been the
Commander of their unit. If they took action to block F-KB supporters from carrying
out the burnings, they could be seen as protecting the group of the Regent, the
opponents of the F-KB.513 The local military units, under the KODIM (District
Military Command) and KORAMIL (Sub-district Military Command), were not
allowed to act as police forces without being asked by the police and also were
worried about being accused of siding with one of the conflicting parties.514 The
splitting and weakening of the internal solidarity of the military was not only typical
of the Sumberwaras District, but experienced in many Pilkada cases. The
following Pilkada case suggests another variation of this problem.
5. Deviating from internal consensus
According to the Chairman of F-TNI/POLRI in the Pringgodani District515,
Ltc.Suparlan, two of the five members of the F-TNI/POLRI who “betrayed”
(membelot dari) the expected faction consensus in the Pringgodani election were
natives of Pringgodani and not Army or Police but Naval (Major Muhammad
Yasmin) and Air Force (Lt. Suparna) officers. The naval officer was replaced soon
after the election and never met with the rest of the faction members from then on.
The air force officer was not replaced because he was newly appointed to the
DPRD job. It was the latter who revealed the reasons for the “betrayal” to my
513
Interview B57.
Interview M61 (the Dandim of Sumberwaras).
515
Names of both District and actors are pseudonymous to protect their identities.
514
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respondent who then passed on the information to me in our discussion. The
stated reason was that they did not want to see Pringgodani became “the second
[Sumberwaras]”, referring to the Sumberwaras riots, discussed earlier. His
argument was that the F-PP was the biggest faction in the DPRD which was
strongly supported by the public through mass demonstrations; both the F-PP
(and initially the F-KB) and the demonstrations strongly rejected the Regent
candidate that the F-TNI/POLRI was committed to support, therefore if the F-PP
were defeated and the public disappointed, the reactions could be as destructive
as they had been in Sumberwaras.
The respondent suggested also that the loosening of control by the Kodam over
the members of the F-TNI/POLRI, especially those who were not Army officers,
was an important factor that made it easier for them to breach the initial
agreements. As in the case of Maj. Muhammad Yasmin, the KODAM did not do
anything to punish him because he was a naval officer. The respondent believed
that the Local Naval Headquarter had known the position that Maj. Muhammad
Yasmin planned to take and permitted it. Here, inter-military branch relations seem
to be less coordinated, and the KODAM no longer had strong authority over the
representative members from the military who were non-Army officers. He
suspected that money also played an important role in this game, although he
could not provide any evidence. Neither was Lt.Suparna replaced. My respondent
said that, like Maj.Yasmin, Lt.Suparna was convinced that his political choice was
approved and protected by the Air Force headquarters to which he was thought to
be responsible, and in fact, the KODAM did not take any action against his
position.
The split within the faction between the Army and Police on one side and the Navy
and Air Force on the other was not the only dimension of the internal friction in
Pringgodani. As in the Sumberwaras case, the Dandim had a disagreement with
the F-TNI/ POLRI members. In Sumberwaras they refused to support their
Dandim’s intention to register as a Regent Candidate. In Pringgodani, the local
Dandim wanted to register as a Vice-Regent Candidate through the F-KB, but did
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not get the necessary Permission Letter from the KODAM, partly because there
was not a recommendation for this from the F-TNI/POLRI. So, the relations
between the faction and the Dandim were not good, just like in Sumberwaras.516
The Pringgodani Election was a case where the military was actively involved and
took a clear position from the beginning of the process although the candidate
being supported was a civilian. The DPRD Paripurna Meeting to consider Regent
Dwiatmodjo’s ‘end-of-job’ LPJ report was held long before the election process
began, and the F-TNI/ POLRI, along with five F-DIP members, two members of
the F-KB, two of the F-PP and one of the PBB, arranged and used the meeting as
a test case to see how strong was the support for Dwiatmodjo’s re-election. In fact,
fifteen DPRD members who supported the LPJ voted for Dwiatmodjo in the first
round of the election. As they had been lobbied before, the F-KB with its nine
members agreed to join Dwiatmodjo’s supporters for the second round after their
failure to get their team elected in the first round.517 So, until the final outcome of
the election was announced, the Dwiatmodjo group led by the F-TNI/POLRI
appeared to have a large chance of succeeding, with a total of twenty four
assured votes of the total forty five. In fact, the actual final result was only twenty
two, as the other two had moved to the opponent. The defeat was caused by the
“betrayal” by the two officers who had their individual reasons. It showed a
significant shift in the internal conditions of solidarity, loyalty to superiors, friends
and other military organizational ethics which had commonly prevailed or been
516
An example of reaction from the Dandim to the F-TNI/POLRI in expressing his disagreement with the faction
position was when the faction accepted the LPJ/Laporan Pertanggung Jawaban (End-of-Job Accountability
Report) of the existing Regent Dwiatmodjo because this acceptance would open the way for Dwiatmodjo to
register as a candidate. A respondent who was the Chairman of the faction said that he was rung by the Dandim
at night after the meeting, and the Dandim “gave an order on behalf of the Pangdam to see him tomorrow
morning” to explain the faction’s acceptance of the LPJ. According to the respondent the faction’s decision was
interpreted by the Dandim as ignoring the aspirations of the public. The respondent admitted that before the LPJ
meeting, there were mass demonstrations that tried to force the members of the DPRD, including him, to reject
the LPJ. In fact, two-thirds (30/45) of the members refused the LPJ. On the same night the respondent reported
by phone the misunderstanding and “the intervention from Dandim” to the Aster (Territorial Assistant of the Chief
of Staff of the Kodam). He said that the Aster rang and “corrected” (menegur) the Dandim, and confirmed there
were not any “instructions” (petunjuk) or delegation of authority from the Pangdam to change the faction’s decision
in the case of the LPJ. Interview M93. Therefore, it was quite logical when the respondent gave an opinion that
the Dandim’s reaction was not because of his concerns about the public, but his concern about his chance to
register and to be supported as their candidate by the faction.
517
According to one respondent from this group of nine, the instruction to vote for Dwiatmodjo was received from
the national leadership of the PKB only in the last minutes before the second round of voting. The respondent said
the leadership was concerned about the domination of the F-PP in Pringgodani, the only Regency District of four
where the PKB could not become the majority. Interview K94.
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relatively successfully imposed during the New Order era, including in political
matters.
6. Disobeying territorial commanders
The previous two cases demonstrate disobedience of some of the military faction
members to their KODAM, disloyalty of the Dandim to the KODAM, and internal
differences within the faction. In the following case, in the Buluhlawang518 Election,
all F-TNI/POLRI members disagreed with the local Territorial Commanders, the
District Commander (Dandim) and the Sub-Regional Commander (Danrem),
about which candidate would be supported. Again, non-Army officers took a
leading position and tended to be more independent from the old, armydominated patterns of military politics. Lt.Tjan Santos, who was a young Air Force
officer and a member of the F-TNI/ POLRI of Buluhlawang, was actively but
secretly steering the position of the faction against the position preferred and
instructed by the local military Territorial Commanders, the (local) Danrem and the
(Regency) Dandim. According to him, members of the faction were instructed on
several occasions by the Danrem to vote for Suwandi, a Regent Candidate
proposed by the F-DIP (which had 14 members) and supported also by the FIslam Plus (6 members). Another respondent, Ikbal Tamrin, the Chairman of the
Islam Plus Faction confirmed that once the Danrem gave the instruction to the FTNI/POLRI members to support Suwandi. This had been in a meeting where
Suwandi and all his supporting groups, including the respondent’s, were present,
“perhaps on purpose of convincing Suwandi”.519 Similar information was revealed
by the Chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI, Ltc.Chamdani, who I interviewed
separately, that the Danrem had overtly urged the faction members to vote for
Suwandi.
The instruction was totally disobeyed however, and Suwandi’s opponent
Ret.Col.Sutiono won the election. Ltc.Chamdani, an Army officer of the military
518
519
Names of District and actors are pseudonymous to protect their identities.
Interview M83.
209
faction, said that as an Army officer he initially felt compelled “to secure”
(mengamankan) the instruction, but because it was almost certain that Suwandi
would be defeated even with the support from the F-TNI/POLRI he then chose not
to follow the instruction.520 When asked about money politics in the Buluwalang
District, Lt.Tjan Santos admitted that he believed that there were no Pilkada that
was free from money politics. In this District, he said, both campaign teams of the
two competing groups in the election offered large amounts of money to the
members of the F-TNI/POLRI. Yet, the decision about which group they would
side with also depended on which group was considered to be the most likely to
win. Otherwise, they would “wrongly choose” (salah pilih); choosing the defeated
candidate, wasting their voting rights and creating a bad start for their future
relationship with the elected Regent. Yet he did not, perhaps being too
embarrassed, relate the reason explicitly to what he had said previously, that the
large amount of money offered was usually paid in full only after the candidate
was certain that he won the election, and only a kind of non-refundable deposit
was paid in advance.521 He did not say that this was the reason why calculating
the most-probable-to-win candidate was very important, because a salah pilih
meant only receiving a small deposit, not the full payment.
According to Lt.Tjan Santos, to make sure that he would not salah pilih, he once
met with two of the group of four of the F-DIP deserters, Marni and Harmansyur, in
a car on a “toll-express road” (Jalan Tol Malang-Surabaya), about 200km from
Buluhlawang, to get personal affirmation without being watched by the opponent
group members, as every member of DPRD was subject to being spied on during
the election process. In the group of Ret.Col.Sutiono, the challenger of Suwandi,
the respondent was one of the internal agents to spy on the group members. For
example, when some Golkar members were visited by Suwandi’s team, he
checked and made sure of their positions; also, when the Danrem said that he
visited Kyai Langitan, an influential religious leader living in the neighbouring
District, in order to endorse Suwandi, he also visited the Kyai soon after to make
520
According to the respondent, Ltc.Chamdani had another reason for supporting initially Suwandi; that Suwandi
as Regent Candidate was partnered with a Vice-Regent Candidate who had been a close friend of Ltc.Chamdani
since they were both studying at university.
521
Interview M83.
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sure that he still wanted the F-KB members to vote for Ret.Col.Sutiono. With this
position appointed by Ret.Col.Sutiono, he could get most of the information he
needed for convincing other members of the F-TNI/POLRI that siding with
Suwandi, thus with the Danrem and Dandim, would be a salah pilih position.
Maj.Mukhtar, an Army officer who had been assigned by the Danrem the task of
bringing all members of the F-TNI/POLRI to the side of Suwandi was, however,
one of those convinced by Lt. Tjan Santos, then Lt.Chamdani, another Army
officer, too. Two other members, from the Navy and Police, had been easily
convinced before.
Andi Sochib, a member of the F-DIP and also the Chairman of the DPRD, who
had decided to be absent on the Election Day because he did not like either
Regent Candidate, alleged why the Danrem supported Suwandi. He said that
Suwandi gave him large amounts of money and promised to give him a big house
in Buluhlawang if Suwandi won the election. Suwandi was a successful
businessman in East Kalimantan, and was listed as a member of East Kalimantan
Golkar at the time he registered as the Buluhlawang Regent Candidate. He was
also backed by H.Hasbi, a big businessman who was a member of Golkar and
also the spouse of the District Head of a neighbouring District where Golkar,
although a minority in the DPRD, could successfully dominate the DPRD and the
Regent’s Office.522 He said, since money dictated everything in the Pilkada, the
Danrem worked hard to get as much money as he could. One thing that he
successfully achieved, as suggested by the Chairman of the F-Islam Plus, was a
kind of misleading propaganda against Ret.Col.Sutiono, which attracted five of the
six F-Islam Plus members to vote for Suwandi. The respondent said, “Before the
election we had got wrong information from the Danrem that Ret.Col.Sutiono was
not a good man, in fact, after the election we knew him as a good Moslem.”
Lt.Tjan Santos and Ltc.Chamdani in separate interviews expressed how they felt
irritated and ashamed with the way the Danrem discredited the personality of
522
Interview D86 (the Chairman of the Buluhlawang DPRD who was a member of the F-DIP).
211
Ret.Col.Sutiono.523 Yet he failed in trying to watch closely every move of the FTNI/POLRI members to ensure their obedience.524
Unlike the Danrem and Dandim who openly showed their positions, KODAM
officers did not. According to the F-TNI/POLRI members, they thought that the
Danrem acted on behalf of the KODAM, therefore they did not communicate
directly with it on the election matters. Later, they knew that the KODAM was not
sufficiently informed; either about the personalities of the Candidates or about the
position of the local military. The KODAM sent its congratulations to the FTNI/POLRI members after it knew that the faction did not salah pilih, while the
Dandim was replaced soon after the election because, as my respondent said, he
was likely to have difficulty in having a relationship with the new Regent who he
had tried to defeat. A respondent from the KODAM stated that its Commander
was not informed about the political situation in the Buluhwalang District. This
seems unlikely. It is more likely he took the same position as the Danrem and
Dandim because his information came from them.525 However, he did not show
this position openly, so it was easy to change his position when he found that
opposing Col.Sutiono would be disadvantageous.
7. Open involvement
In the Regency of Mangunredjo526 the military (mainly the F-TNI/POLRI
members) was deeply involved in the whole process of the Bupati election. The
523
The respondent said that the Danrem depicted Sutiono as a former military officer who had been serving for a
long time as the Chief of Bulog (the State Rice Distributiion Agency) in West Irian, who knew only how to make
himself rich and who even never contributed anything to the military units around his office during the time he was
in this position. Interview M83.
524
The respondent said that two nights before the Election Day, all members of the F-TNI/POLRI “escaped” from
Buluhwalang and slept in a hotel in another Regency, to avoid the Danrem, but unfortunately he found them with
the assistance from the Dandim, and warned them not to meet and make any deal with Ret.Col.Sutiono In the
morning before the election the Danrem repeated his instruction but that was then disobeyed by the F-TNI/POLRI
members. Interview M83.
525
Ltc.Chamdani also said that Suwandi was the only Regent Candidate who sowan (came to get a blessing
from) the Pangdam; and Ret.Col.Sutiono did not sowan to the Pangdam because he felt far more senior
(according to the graduation year of the Military Academy) to him. Besides that, he also had an unpleasant
experience, being refused by the KODAM when in 2000 he sowan to the KODAM as a part of his lobbying as a
Regent Candidate in the Sidodadi (false name) Pilkada in 2000 when he failed to win. Interview M84 (the
Chairman of the Buluhlawang F-TNI/POLRI.)
526
Names of District and actors are pseudonymous to protect their identities.
212
faction members were involved in forming a coalition group that embraced all the
small factions directed at challenging the biggest faction, participating actively in
secret lobbying to weaken that opposing group and providing means for protecting
and ensuring the loyalty of the coalition members.
This deep involvement was strongly related to the role of an influential officer, Ltc.
Air Force Djodi Sutanto, an Assembly member from the F-TNI/POLRI. Not only
was he the most senior officer (the only Lieutenant Colonel, the other four ranging
in rank from First Lieutenant to Major), but also had the longest time of service as
the military representative in Mangunredjo.527 In relation to the Territorial
Command, it was he, not the Chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI, who reported the
situation to the Pangdam.528 It was also because of his experience in the
Mangunredjo DPRD that he had been considered and elected as one of the
Deputy Chairmen of the DPRD.529
On the brink of the Pilkada, the political constellation within the DPRD was moving
to form two competing blocks, a coalition that consisted of the F-PKB, F-Umat, FGolkar and F-TNI/POLRI on one side, and the F-PDIP, with 21 of the 45 DPRD
members so the biggest faction, on the other side. The idea of forming the
coalition originally emerged from the relation between the existing Bupati, Drs.
Sunardji, and the two factions, F-Golkar and F-TNI/POLRI, which had elected him
to the Bupati position in 1998. It was calculated that a coalition would be strong
enough to challenge the F-DIP, the faction that had indicated that it did not want
Sunardji to have a second term in the Bupati position530. Having carried out
527
Ltc.Air Force Djodi Sutanto has served in the Mangunredjo F-TNI/POLRI since 1992. Another member, a
Police Major, had served since 1997, while the other three members (two Army Majors and a Naval Captain) had
just started their service in the faction in 2002.
528
He was close not only to KODAM HQ, but also to the LANUD (Air Force Base) HQ in the District, as well as to
the existing Bupati whom he was supporting in the election. The Naval Captain in the faction asserted that
everything in relation to the F-TNI/POLRI was determined by Ltc.Djodi Sutanto, including what was to be included
in the periodical reports to the military units. Interview M108.
529
Priyo Prasmono, the Chairman of the DPRD and a member of the F-DIP, admitted that members of the F-DIP
respected him because he was “pemain lama” (an old player) in Mangunredjo, which was why they supported
him as the Deputy of the DPRD. He regretted, however, that Djodi Sutanto had forgotten the F-DIP’s help to get
him into his current position. Interview D105.
530
Sunardji’s name was not included among the 6 potential candidates selected by the Rakercabsus (Special
Meeting of the PDI-P Branch) in late May 2003. All 21 members of the F-DIP and 5 leadership members of the
PDIP Branch selected who they considered the best three: Agus Wahyudi (the Chairman of the F-PDIP) gained
11 votes, Januar Narimo (existing Vice Bupati) 9, and Drs. Sugeng Mulyani (the Secretary of the Bupati) 3. The
213
extensive lobbying of the F-KB and F-Umat, the coalition was able to collect 24
potential voters on its side, exceeding the 21 members of the F-DIP. The Bupati’s
coalition eventually grew to 30 after 6 of the F-DIP members were also persuaded
to join the coalition.
Tukiman, a member of the F-DIP who was one of those being approached by Ltc.
Djodi Sutanto, admitted that the members of the F-DIP were persuaded by
exploiting frictions within the faction.531 This was done to convince the faction
members that they would not win the election. The demoralization was combined
with material offers such as money, a car or a house.532 Priyo Prasmono, the
Chairman of the DPRD and a member of the F-DIP who was very disappointed
with the involvement of the F-TNI/POLRI viewed the existence of this faction in the
Mangunredjo DPRD was a disadvantage for his faction. First, although in the
Mangunredjo District the PDIP won more than 50% of the votes in the General
Election in July 1999, the F-DIP faction could not gain the simple majority in the
legislature because of the allocation of 5 non-elected seats to the F-TNI/POLRI,
meaning that the F-DIP’s seats were only 50% of the elected 40, not of the total
45. In the case of the 2003 Bupati election, a few months before the election the
PDIP held a meeting with the Dandim of Mangunredjo together with all members
of the F-TNI/POLRI, and re-stressed the neutrality of the military in the election. In
fact, the military faction was involved deeply on the side of the F-PDIP’s
opponent.533
other 3 votes were given 1 each to Rusdianto, Ahmad Yuharno, and Sulatino. After the highest ranked three were
sent to the central authority of PDIP, Sugeng Mulayani was recommended by the centre to be taken as the FPDIP’s Bupati candidate. Interview D104 (a member of the F-PDIP of the Mangunredjo DPRD).
531
Friction within the F-DIP was triggered by the recommendation letter from the central leadership of PDIP in
favour of Sugeng Mulyani who was only the third favoured candidate elected by the local PDIP memberships’
selection, not an original PDIP man, and in fact only supported by 3 of the 26 PDIP voters in the selection
process. Besides, members of the F-PDIP doubted the authenticity of the letter because it was sent by post not
delivered directly by a PDIP man. In a meeting with Ltc.Djodi Sutanto, he had tried to convince my respondent,
who was a member of the F-DIP, that the 9 supporters of the second most popular F-DIP would-be candidate
would move to the coalition side, and asked him to join them. The respondent admitted that 6 members of the 9
were initially convinced and made personal deals with the Campaign Team of the coalition. However, later they
came back to the PDIP after the an envoy from the central leadership came to Mangunredjo to show a letter from
the leadership, signed by President Megawati, instructing them to vote for Sugeng Mulyani. Interview D104.
532
In his approach to the respondent, a large amount of money was offered. He said that he could have been rich
suddenly should have he accepted the deal, but he refused the offers. Interview D104.
533
Priyo Prasmono stated that previously F-DIP wanted to follow a “faksun politik” (a logical concept of politics)
that F-DIP as the biggest faction would take the Bupati position and F-KB, as the second biggest, would take the
Vice Bupati position. However, this proposal was refused by the F-KB because it had formed a coalition along
with Golkar , the F-Umat and the F-TNI/POLRI. Interview D106 (the Chairman of the DPRD, and a member of
the F-DIP).
214
K.H. Abdul Najib, the Deputy Chairman of the DPRD and a member of the F-KB,
described the involvement of the F-TNI/POLRI in the coalition as an “active,
volunteer” player. Not only were they involved in the lobbying, but also in voting for
the Deputy Bupati candidate within the coalition. The Bupati candidate was not
nominated through voting because Sunardji was already agreed on by all coalition
members as the F-TNI/POLRI had tried hard and successfully to convince the FKB members that he would certainly win.534 A member of the F-TNI/POLRI said
that there was a “perintah komando” (instruction from the military HQ) to join the
coalition in supporting the Sunardji’s group.535 KH.Abdul Najib, however, viewed
that whatever was instructed by the military HQ, it was very much influenced by
the information and inputs given by the F-TNI/POLRI members. He suggested
that the members should not hide their personal interests behind the HQ’s
instruction. For example, it was the initiative of Ltc. Djodi Sutanto to ask the Air
Force Base in the District to provide accommodation for nineteen coalition
members in their three days quarantine before the election.536 Besides, the HQ
did not intervene very far, such as determining how deeply the F-TNI/POLRI could
be involved in the political lobbying for the coalition.537
The failure of the coalition was a consequence of the weakness of its solidarity,
but to a greater extent it was because of the success of the PDIP consolidation.
Tukiman said that the decision by the central leadership to accept Sugeng
Mulyani as the PDIP Bupati candidate was aimed at reducing resistance from the
other factions, given that Sugeng Mulyani was an experienced bureaucrat and
might have many friends in Golkar and the military. Although it created frictions
534
Interview K105 (the Deputy of the Chairman of DPRD, who was an influential leader in the coalition).
Asked whether they regretted siding with the Sunardji’s group after finding that they were on the losing side,
one member of the F-TNI/POLRI said that “nothing has to be regretted because they were all carrying out
perintah komando (commands)”. Interview M107.
536
Quarantine became a common way of protecting the solidity of the voting groups in every local election. It was
to ensure that all members had no contact with anyone who intended to get him out of the group by one way or
another. Some quarantine was carried out very toughly such as not allowing any contact with outsiders even by
phone. Interview K105. As also pointed by a senior F-DIP member, the F-DIP was put into quarantine for 10 days
before the election and moved four times to different hotels and cities, from Madiun to Solo to Surakarta and back
to Solo, before being driven in a bus to Mangunredjo on the election date. During the quarantine the members
were also sworn to not betray the faction, and promise if they failed in this they would resign from the faction.
Interview D104. Members of the F-TNI/POLRI were not quarantined in the same place with the coalition
members, but as a separate group by Ltc.Djodi Sutanto in the Merdeka Hotel, Madiun. Interview M107.
537
Interview M108 (a member of the F-TNI/POLRI).
535
215
and resistance from within the faction, an internal solidarity was successfully
consolidated after President Megawati, the Chairman of the central leadership of
PDIP, sent her envoy to Mangunredjo to clarify the PDIP position. Indeed,
following the internal consolidation, some members of the coalition, especially
those who had personal relations with Sugeng Mulyani were eventually attracted
to the F-DIP side.538 One of them was Major. Police Agung Sukarman, a member
of the F-TNI/POLRI. Nevertheless, he also gave as his reason that if the F-DIP did
not win the election the political stability in Mangunredjo would be very bad
because the majority of Mangunredjo people, who support the PDIP, would be
angry and it would be a hard work for the police. He claimed his choice had been
approved by Police HQ. However, the other members of the F-TNI/POLRI who
were disappointed with him said that it was only an invented justification, and they
suspected that he had received a large amount of money for his change.539
Indeed, every individual or group of the military who were involved in the Pilkada
were clever enough to invent justifications for their political actions, and it is very
likely to continue to be so until a law exists that clearly states that any involvement
by members of the military is prohibited in Pilkada.
8. Institutional objectives or individual ambitions: Does it matter?
To sum up, in general, these Pilkada cases show that changes in the direction of
the military’s national institutional policy did not bring significant changes in
individual military officers’ political attitudes which would speed up the withdrawal
that the national institution was trying to achieve. Its commitment to leave politics
in the reformasi era might restrict individual officers’ political actions. However,
especially for the officers who were the members of the F-TNI/POLRI, this effect
was overwhelmed by other factors. Under the New Order system, direct political
involvement was fully legalized, but personal interests were much restricted by
institutional direction; the officers taking a certain political position because they
were ordered to do so rather than for the fulfilment of their individual interests. In
the post-New Order era, in a circumstance where the political power of the military
538
Interview D104.
Other members of the coalition who moved to the other group were two from Golkar, who were friends of
Sugeng Mulyani, and one from the F-Umat who had a family tie with him. Interview M107.
539
216
institution was declining, personal politics developed without a sufficient control
from the institution.
Nevertheless, in reality the distinction between the military as an institution and the
military as individuals is not as clear as in the theory. People, especially civilian
politicians, did not seem to be bothered to recognize whether the military were
involved for personal or institutional purposes. In fact, despite the decline of the
institutional role in local politics, as discussed in Chapter VII, my interviews with
several politicians, government officials and local people suggest that they saw the
military were considerably involved in the Pilkada, and their judgments were
mainly based on what the individual officers were doing in the elections, as
discussed above.540 So, no matter which, individuals or institution, they saw it as
“the military”. Furthermore, these individual officers were the agents of the military
institution, what they did in the election affected the big picture of the military as an
institution.
A further important question is - what was the impact of the formal decline of the
military’s political effectiveness on the quality of the elections and on local
governance? By ‘formal’ I mean the institutional level of involvement (as discussed
in the previous chapter) rather than the individual political activities discussed in
this chapter, although the detailed local activities involved both. Did it produce
better District Heads; a better democratic political system; better public trust and
perception about politics - all political aspects the Districts need to improve the
living condition of their people? These sorts of questions are considered in the
next section.
540
Politician respondents who expressed similar views in the interviews included: Lilik Indarto of the F-DIP
(Chairman of Madiun Regency DPRD); Ikhsan Tamin of PAN (Deputy Chairman of Bojonegoro DPRD); Prayogo
Prayitno of FDIP (Chairman of Magetan DPRD), Abu Nai’m of F-KB (Deputy Chairman of Magetan DPRD), H.
Baitulwi of Lamongan Golkar). Among the government officials who also expressed this view were: A. Rivai
(former staff of Malang Regency Kansospol, Chief of Bakesbang Malang Sub-division; Hary Yudanto (Secretary
of Madiun Regency DPRD); and Widiastono (Secretary of Madiun City Government). Among the local people:
Sudirman (Village Head of Saptorenggo, Malang), Subakir (Village Head of Mangliawan, Malang). All these
interviews took place in 2003.
217
9. The place of the military in unstable civilian politics: Military
political backing
Although the main focus in the discussion so far has been on the military’s role in
District Regent or Mayoral election politics it must be recognized that the situation
was not simply one of undemocratically dominant and disruptive activities of
military representatives in an otherwise stable and democratic civilian politics.
Civilians shared responsibility with the military in making the implementation of the
policy of the minimization of military political influence over the elections stumble.
One of the civilian politicians’ undesirable contributions in their political activities
around the various District Head elections was their tendencies to seek a political
backing from the military. This factor could reopen political gates for politically
adventurous officers.
The tendency to seek a military backing was caused to some extent by the fact
that the members of the Assemblies’ military factions had the right to vote, in
several Districts were inclined to participate actively in the election process, and
demonstrated a potential to influence the election outcomes. Consequently, many
civilian politicians decided that the military still had to be seen and treated as an
important player in politics. Therefore they tried to present acceptable conditions to
the local Assemblies’ military factions and to lobby what they thought were the
relevant military Headquarters to instruct those members who they believed were
the Headquarters’ representatives to vote for them.541 This was especially evident
when there was no simple majority faction in the DPRD, or when a simple majority
faction existed but was not solid.
As one respondent said, to get the military support the civilian factions understood
that one thing that they had to do was to choose their candidates with criteria that
suited the military.542 These included an approved, nationalist, ideology; the
probability of winning; public acceptance; personal integrity; personal capability;
541
For example, when the Sumberwaras F-KB campaign team came to the KODAM for military voting support, it
was based on this perception. Some members of military factions told me that such visits were commonly made
by civilian factions from other Districts, including two examples, in the Districts of Pringgodani and Talang Sari,
where it was actually these informants who had taken the Campaign Teams of the competing civilian factions to
their own local Headquarters to “visit” (sowan) powerful officers there. In some cases they had been asked for
guidance by a Campaign Team, in others they had offered this help. Interviews M93, M95.
542
Interview P46.
218
and financial resources, as been mentioned earlier. This respondent said that the
new parties interpreted the criteria by, firstly, choosing retired military or (former
Golkar) bureaucrats to ensure acceptance on the first criterion. Then they looked
for a Vice District Head candidate partner for him from business groups, to satisfy
the final financial requirement. Alternatively, if their retired military or bureaucrat
District Head candidate already had adequate financial sponsors, usually
business leaders, the team place for the Vice District Head candidate would be
given to the faction or, if an alliance of factions had been formed, to the leading
faction. The respondent claimed that usually the personal integrity and capability
requirements “can be made up” (bisa diatur–atur) as long as the first and last
criteria had been met, because they were very subjective.
As seen in Table VIII.3 and Chart VIII.1, the two biggest East Java factions (F-DIP
and F-KB) were often not confident enough to propose their own cadres. In the
thirty six elections in East Java, fifty one percent of the District Head candidates
proposed by the F-DIP were bureaucrats with only twenty percent F-DIP
members and forty six percent from the F-KB were bureaucrats compared to thirty
seven percent being party cadres. According to one respondent, taking a nonparty-partisan candidate such as a retired military or bureaucrat made it easier to
form an affiliation or to build support for the candidate, as compared with looking
for a candidate from particular parties where each party within an affiliation would
want to promote its own members which would made it difficult to form a solid
alliance.543
It was thus common for these civilian factions to limit their choosing of their own
cadres to the Vice District Head candidatures unless the faction was a simple
majority which would be expected to win the election without needing support from
other factions, for example, the PKB in the Districts of Situbondo, Sumenep,
Bangkalan and Bondowoso. When asked about what would be the advantage for
the party after bringing a non-partisan District Head candidate to victory, one
legislative member said that the party would then be able to get more access to
the government’s resources. For example, he said, in the District of Buluhlawag
543
Interview P46.
219
where the F-KB proposed a retired military officer as the District Head candidate
who had won, “in less than a month the table of the elected District Head was
already full of proposals for financial assistance sent by boarding schools
(pesantren) and political organizations that were under the coordination of the
PKB”. Asked whether would it be different if the elected leader had been from FKB, he replied that, “of course it would be much easier to get bigger access to the
government’s sources, but why do you have to propose your party’s cadre if you
are not sure that he would win because other factions did not want to support
him?”. However, the problem with a faction proposing a non-party member was
that, if not all members agreed to such a choice, as happened in several Districts,
the disagreements ended up with internal conflicts, either within a faction, between
the faction and the local party leaderships, or between the central and the local
leaderships.
220
Table VIII.3 Candidates for District Head/Vice-Head proposed by PDIP and
PKB
1999-2003
No.
Candidates
proposed by
PDIP
Regencies
(R)/Cities (C)
Candidates
proposed by
PKB
Mil Bur Oth Par Mil Bur Oth Par
4.*
Ngawi (R), 10-1199
5# Lamongan (R), 1301-00
6# Gresik (R), 27-0100
7*
Surabaya (C), 0702-00
8# Jember (R), 12-0200
9λ Situbondo (R), 1702-00
10* Ponorogo (R), 1103-00
11λ Sumenep (R), 0305-00
12# Banyuwangi
(R)
31-05-00
13* Blitar (C), 01-07-00
14# Sampang (R), 22- H
07-00
15# Trenggalek (R), 2508-00
16* Pacitan (R), -09-00
17* Mojokerto (R), 239-00
18* Sidoarjo (R), 28-09- H
00
19* Malang (R), 04-0100
20* Blitar (R), 06-12-00
21*
22*
23*
Probolinggo (C), - 00
Kediri (C), - -00
Kediri (R), - -00
H,
V
V
H,
V
H
H
V
H
V
H
V
H
H,
V
H,
V
H
H
H,
V
V
H
V
H
H
V
H
H
V
H
V
H
H
V
V
H
H
V
H
H
V
H,
V
H
H
H
V
V
V
H,
V
H
H
V
H
V
H
V
V
V
V
H
H
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
H
H
V
H
V
V
221
24# Pasuruan (C), - -00
25* Tuban (R), 08-0501
26* Batu (C), 04-11-02
27λ Bangkalan (R), 0601-03
28* Bojonegoro
(R),
10-01-03
29# Probolinggo (R) 1801-03
30* Nganjuk (R), 1203-03
31 Pamekasan (R) 2003-23
32* Tulungagung(R)1604-03
33λ Pasuruan (R), 31- H
05-03
34* Madiun (R), 03-0703
35* Magetan (R), 1007-03
36* Lumajang (R), 0108-03
37* Jombang (R), - -03
38λ Bondowoso (R), - 03
Total
H
H
H
V
V
H
H
V
H
V
V
H
V
H
V
V
V
H
H
V
H
H
H,
V
H
H
V
H
H
V
H,
V
H,
V
V
V
H
3H 18H 7H
9V 19V
V
H
V
V
H,
V
H
V
V
H
V
V
H
H
V
V
H,
V
V
H
H,
V
7H 4H 16H 2H 13H
7V
11V 10V 14V
Notes:
Mil = Active/Retired Military; Bur = Former Golkar/Bureaucrats; Oth = Others; Par
= Party cadres
H = District Head ; V = Vice District Head
* = District where PDIP was the biggest party.
# = District where PKB was the biggest party
λ = District where F-KB was the simple majority faction in the DPRD.
222
Chart VIII.1. Percentage of Candidates for District Head/Vice-District Head
proposed by PDIP and PKB 1999-2003
Others
20%
PDIP
20%
Military
9%
Bureaucrat
PDIP
20%
PDIP
PDIP
Military
Bureaucrat
Others
54%
Bureaucrat
26%
Bureaucrat
Others
Others
51%
Proportions of PDIP’s
District Head candidates
PKB
37%
Military
11%
Bureaucrat
Others
6%
Military
Bureaucrat
46%
Proportions of PDIP’s
Vice District Head candidates
PKB
40%
Others
29%
PKB
Proportions of PKB’s
District Head candidates
Others
Bureaucrat
Others
PKB
Bureaucrat
31%
Proportions of PKB’s
Vice District Head
candidates
10. Conclusion
In contrast to what has been reported in Chapter Seven as an encouraging
development, that is, the dramatic decline in the trend of the military’s political
influence in the Pilkada at the District level, the above discussion indicates that the
political activities of the individual officers involved in the Pilkada were now not
being controlled effectively by the military institution. The cases of Sumberwaras,
Pringodani and Buluhlawang, or Mangunredjo demonstrated that the officers took
conflicting positions, and the internal solidarity within the F-TNI/POLRI as well as
the relations between the faction members and the local military commanders
were badly divisive. In Mangunredjo for example an officer was openly and deeply
involved in organizing an affiliation of small factions, in challenging and trying to
break up the majority F-DIP faction, and in providing a local military base as
“quarantine” to gather the affiliation members weeks before voting. Various
personal considerations, but mainly economic gains, dominated the different
positions that these officers took in the elections. The weakening control by the
KODAM over the F-TNI/POLRI members in some ways was affected by the
perceptions and attitudes of non-Army officers of being more independent from
the KODAM’s control influence, as some of these officers claimed that their
223
political choices were reported to and backed by the commanders of the units that
appointed them. This is simply not enough evidence to suggest that there were
conflicts among the military branches at the higher level, but it did suggest a
decline of the political influence of the Army over the other branches (Navy and Air
Force) compared to that of the New Order era.
As argued earlier, unstable civilian political power was influenced to some extent
by the continued existence of the military representatives in the local parliaments.
In cases where the party political constellation was more or less evenly divided,
the position of the military faction became pivotal; whichever group they joined
would be the strongest. This had two major implications. First, to get the military’s
support meant finding candidates that satisfied criteria favoured by the military. As
already shown, the majority of the District Head candidates were chosen from
former New Order bureaucrats instead of the parties’ cadres who were
democratically proposed from the parties’ grass roots, with this decision leaving
unresolved conflicts within the parties. Second, the civilian politicians continued to
believe that it was still necessary to approach the military headquarters and local
territorial commanders believed to have an authority over the members of military
factions. This reopened opportunities for political adventurists within the military to
determine the election outcomes, including for pursuing their personal interests. In
other words, the civilian politicians contributed to making the uncontrolled, deeply
politicized, and divisive feature of political activities of these individual officers.
As the result of this, moreover, the outcomes of the District Head elections within
the Assemblies did not yet meet expectations about what ideal democratic
elections should have produced. These outcomes were significantly determined
by the recruitment process of the candidates. The negotiations and decisions
involved in this process by the party factions of the local parliaments was
influenced mainly by the potential candidates’ ability to fulfil the personal interests
of the factions’ members, the voters, instead of being based on the candidates’
personal leadership quality and integrity. With the military representatives still there
until 2004, it will take at least until 2009, after their elimination, before all the District
224
Assemblies will hold democratic elections for the Regency or Mayoral Heads of
their Districts without the direct involvement of the military.
225
Chapter Nine
IMPACTS ON LOCAL MILITARY (1):
The collapse of the military’s karya positions
When our turns are about to come, the doors [to the chances of having
political/ financially-profitable jobs] are closed, that is not fair.544
…we did not join the army in order to have civilian jobs, but the
command assigned us to the civilian posts in order to maximize our
contribution to the national development; so, if now the nation no longer
wants us to be there, that’s OK.545
1. Introduction: The three problems
In Chapter Two it was mentioned that to see the extent to which the military’s
political withdrawal has had an impact on the creating of a condition favourable to
the professionalism of local military, the political perception and attitude of the
officers need to be examined.546 In this chapter attention is paid mainly to the
former or remaining karya officers appointed to non-military (political) jobs. Three
categories of them are identified and described: firstly, military personnel who
were withdrawn from civilian jobs; secondly, the former military Bupatis and
Mayors who struggled to survive without direct support from the military
institutions; and thirdly, the remaining military representatives in the local
parliamentary Assemblies. These were the groups of officers who were directly
affected by the institutional changes described in Chapter Six, especially by the
demilitarization policies of local political structures. The examination of the impacts
on them is essential both to understand the reactions, political perceptions and
attitudes of military personnel who can be regarded as highly politicized during the
previous era and also to identify the problems in efforts to turn the military into an
apolitical military. So, the aim of this examination is not to see professionalism in
544
The respondents were young officers, expressing similar views. Interviews M112, M113, M115.
Those respondents were older officers. Interviews M53, M67, M59. Another respondent who expressed a
similar view to that of these men had by then been retired for almost a year, and was now active in the Pepabri
(Persatuan Purnawirawan ABRI/Association of Retired Military). Interview R11.
546
See Chapter Two, sub-section 4.2.
545
226
terms of the technical capability of the officers in doing their professional jobs, but
in terms of the changing degree in their perceptions or attitudes toward politics, an
important indication of whether a condition was favourable or not to the efforts of
establishing an apolitical, professional military.
2. Problems: Job-losses and individuals’ reactions
The disappearance of jobs was one of the obvious direct impacts of the
compulsory withdrawal of military officers from civilian posts. According to one
respondent, who was working in the personnel staff547, in 2000 about two hundred
middle-rank officers (from Major to Colonel) were temporarily stationed without
jobs in the Military Area Command Headquarters, in Surabaya, after being
withdrawn from civilian posts. This number was greater than the total number in
these ranks across the territorial units of the Province, which was only around one
hundred and fifty officers.548 These displaced officers then had to wait for months
before being placed in new jobs. Some of them were eventually appointed to
replace military representatives in the F-TNI/POLRI in the various DPRD across
the Province until 2004549; and others filled staff positions in the different levels of
local headquarters across the KODAM’s corresponding military region.550
This was confirmed by another respondent who was one of those officers waiting
for a job in 2000. At the time of the interview, he was a member of the FTNI/POLRI in an East Java District. He stated that those who returned to the
KODAM Headquarters in Surabaya had to wait there for almost a year. Some of
them tried to entertain themselves by saying that until they got the new jobs “the
officers came to the office for work for blind wages (makan gaji buta)”; but mostly
they were shocked, and for the high-ranking officers there were several kinds of
power-loss syndrome as well. The higher their ranks, such as for Colonels, the
more limited the jobs that would be available. In comparison to the lower levels
547
Interview M38.
Data from the KODAM headquarters.
549
As mentioned before, the system of appointing military representatives to DPRDs was to be ended at the
2004 local elections.
550
Interview M38.
548
227
such as Lieutenant Colonels or Majors, appropriate job availability at the level of
Colonel was very limited.551
This number does not include the hundreds of sergeants and privates withdrawn
from the positions of Village Headmen, the lowest level of local government. The
number at this level was much bigger than the number of the officers withdrawn
from District or Provincial-level positions. This was not only because each District
contained many villages but also because, unlike the District Bupatis or Mayors
who decided to retire early (this will be discussed in more detail later), most
sergeants who had become Village Heads chose to return to their units. Of four
hundred and nine villages, thirty had military personnel as their Village Head in
1998, but by 2003 only seven retired military and police personnel remained in
these positions.552 The other twenty three had left, to return to their military units or
to retire. In total, across the Province’s thirty eight Districts four hundred military
former Village Heads returned to their units.553
In 2003 the remaining seven (retired) military Village Heads in the Malang
Regency were mostly in villages around the military bases, such as near a big Air
Force Base or around an Army Brigade Complex, and had their periods of office
extended until 2006. One of these men claimed that the people of the village had
asked him to stay in the position, unlike his counterparts in other villages where
they had been forced to step down in 1998/1999, before the end of their
appointment period. He said that being the Village Head nearby the military
complex was much more secure since he felt a kind of psychologically security
back-up from the military units there. However, the Chief of the Malang District
Government’s Village Administration Sub-Division said that these ex-military
Heads had a mutual-benefit relationship with the units near the village – while on
one hand the units had interests in keeping a former soldier in control of the village
for the pembinaan teritorial (territorial approach), on the other hand the Village
Head got the units’ support for his authority.
551
Interview M29
A document of the Sub-Bagian Pemerintahan Desa (Village Administration Sub-Division of Malang Regency).
553
A copy of the document is held by the author.
552
228
Beside the quite heavy individual shock that each person experienced, there was
also a heavy burden for the organization in providing new jobs for them.554 For the
sergeants and privates, job availability was not a big problem; in fact, most Subdistrict Commands (KORAMIL) had personnel shortages so they could be
appointed to the readily available jobs there, therefore it was an advantage for the
organization. However, as an officer in a Sub-Regional Command (KOREM) said,
the main problem was usually in terms of adjustments demanded on their return
to their military working environment. Rules and disciplines were usually applied
much more strictly, while economic rewards were much lower than they had
received in their previous positions as Village Heads. Whereas for the organization
the main difficulties would be in terms of dealing with these returning personnel
having frustration-related problems, especially those causing negative effects on
their working performances, the main difficulties for the individual soldiers were
more direct, that is, in terms of the reduction in their material benefits and their
changed working conditions.555
Economically, being retired (earning around Rp. 700,000/around US$80 per
month) and retaining their positions as the Village Heads would be a good choice.
Most Village Heads in Java are allocated some hectares of land as tanah
bengkok556 for their use during their service period, and also earn some additional
money from their administration of the village people, such as over issuing ID
cards, land transactions, in operational funds from the higher administration, etc.
However, especially in 1998, public resistance and demands for the resignation of
the military Village Heads were very strong. As discussed in Chapter Five, threats
and intimidations from the people made them less protected, and the choice of
staying on as the Village Head became less favorable than returning to their
units.557
However, this immediate problem also had a significant impact on the way the
individual officers and soldiers saw themselves, and the social environment in
554
Interview B114.
Interview M112. The respondent was an officer in the headquarters of a KOREM in East Java.
556
Land allocated instead of some salary.
557
See also Chapter Five. For more information about the income of the village headmen see also, for example,
Schiller, Jim, Developing Jepara in New Order Indonesia, (Australia: Monash Asia Institute, 1996), pp. 160-191.
555
229
which they operated. This can be seen from how they reacted to the changes.
Their reactions varied, but generally they felt disappointed and hopeless.
One Lieutenant Colonel described his feeling, especially while he was waiting for a
new job, as “having been just thrown away” (dicampakkan begitu saja). After
waiting for eight months he was appointed to be one of the military representatives
in a local legislature. When asked about how he would describe the perceptions of
the individual officers waiting like him, he pictured this “as a departure from seeing
themselves as the most important element of the society”.558 The officers, he said,
realized at that time that they had not much choice available, “apart from following
what was demanded by the reformasi.” He said that not many officers believed
the current democratization was the way that Indonesia should have headed, but
they accepted it as a reality that they would not be able to stop but would have to
live with and to cope with.559 A similar view was held by another Lieutenant
Colonel, who had experienced a drastic effect of the 1998 movement on his family
life. Previously he was working as a Kepala Parkir (Chief of Parking) in one of the
cities in the province. In that position he earned almost three million rupiah (triple
his formal one million rupiah salary). After being withdrawn to military
headquarters, he said, “Now I do not have a good position that could sufficiently
support my family; I have not any house yet for my retirement; I do not have
enough money to pay for two of my kids who are studying in the university”. He
revealed that he and his family were very shocked to find that the effect of the
reformasi was much worse for them personally than what he had expected. He
had not thought that the changes would go so far, involving his withdrawal from a
lucrative (basah) job. He said that he “never believes that a democratic system
would be good for the country.” In his opinion, the change was “just a matter of
time, just like the cycle of a wheel, sometime you are on the top, another time you
are at the bottom; democracy is not better than other systems; if now democracy
is on the top it is just because of the time cycle. Different generations sometimes
want to live in different ways from their predecessors.”560
558
The respondent described how the military personnel used to see the military institution as a super body that
could do anything, and saw the military personnel as the first-class citizens but the civilians as the second class
citizens. Interview M29.
559
Interview M29
560
Interview M112.
230
Many lower rank soldiers also felt that the current conditions were only temporary.
They tended to romanticize the possibility that sooner or later the military would
take over the national leaderships and they would be returned to their previous
positions.561 Among them were the sergeants or privates who had been Village
Heads, or lower rank officers who had been promoted to be officers from NCO
sergeant ranks and did not really understand political affairs. Some of these
respondents were formerly appointed to profitable positions in local economic
sectors such as in terminals or markets.562 When asked their opinions about
democracy, they generally answered that they did not believe in democracy, but
they saw that it had now become a fact of life that they could not deny.
It appears that the ways the personnel expressed their feelings to me were very
much influenced by their personal conditions, dependent on the degree of the
impact of the changes on them. Some respondents who were nearing retirement
age, for example, seemed to accept the withdrawal more positively than the
younger ones did, simply because they had less to lose. As an old soldier who
was about to enter retirement said, “I do not really care, I am going to be retired,
that is the business of the young officers”. In contrast, a young officer respondent
expressed his complaint by saying, “when our turns are about to come, the doors
[to the chances of having political/financially-profitable jobs] are closed, that is not
fair”. Although usually less crudely expressed than this, other younger officers
tended to show their disappointment toward the military’s withdrawal policy.563 In
contrast, the older officers tried to be positive by saying, “we did not join the army
in order to have civilian jobs, but the command assigned us to the civilian posts in
order to maximize our contribution to the national development; so, if now the
nation no longer wants us to be there, that’s OK”. But, similarly, they sceptically
expressed the opinion that the withdrawal policy was implemented too soon and
went much further than what civilians had demanded.564
561
Interviews M115, M116, M119, M123. All respondents were sergeants serving at a military territorial unit in
Malang.
562
They were recruited (ditarik) by their former commanders who had become the Kepala Terminal (Head of
Terminal) or Kepala Pasar (Head of Market) to be their assistants or staff. At the time of the interviews they had
already been withdrawn to Sub-district Commands. Interviews M121, M122, M125.
563
See footnote 1.
564
See footnote 2.
231
The group of military who didn’t retire but switched to be civil servants was not
large in East Java. In fact, there were only two of them (out of a potential of two
hundred!), and the view of this pair was quite different from those who had
returned to the units. One of them, a former Lieutenant Colonel who was now a
civil servant, revealed a personal reason for the conversion of his status. He said
that his decision was importantly influenced by an uncomfortable feeling of the
past political involvement of the military. When serving as the Head of the
Kansospol (Social Political Office) of a District Government until 2000, he was
involved in some “dirty political games”.565 In addition, he said, when he became
the Head of the Kansospol he felt more like a civilian politician than a military
officer, therefore he felt more comfortable to continue in the civilian position. At the
time of the interview he was the Head of the Badan Kepegawaian (Employment
Division) of a District Government.566 The Division he now headed was
responsible for recruiting, selecting and promoting the Local Government’s staff.
Although the position was less politically influential than his previous one, in the
eyes of internal staff it was one of those that were considered to be “basah”
(lucrative) involving “ceperan” (unofficial payments).567 His view about
democratization thus, by extension, the military political withdrawal was rarely
found among those who were still active duty officers. He viewed the
democratization as the way that should have been followed, in contrast to those
returning-to-the unit officers’ views – that saw it just as a matter of power struggle,
defeat or defeated, not good or bad.
So, the impacts were different from one person to another, but most reported a
feeling of hopelessness from what was described in Chapter Five as a
demoralization process. However, one positive effect of this process was that it
had apparently encouraged introspection about the past military politics, which
was needed for the military reforms. Most of them recognized the past level of
565
For example, he said, he once in 1997 asked the members of PP (Pemuda Pancasila – the government
supported Pancasila Youth Organization) to dress with PDI costumes, to join the PDI demonstrations, and to
provoke a riot, so that to discredit the PDI, and to justify the future demonstrations by opposition groups or parties.
Interview B15.
566
Interview B15.
567
This feeling was expressed by two officials (also former staff members of Kansospol) in a different division of
the same District Government. Interviews B12, B114.
232
military involvement in politics were no longer acceptable in the current
circumstances. They acknowledged, for example, the military’s negative images
such as, “to know and can do everything” when referred to the territorial social and
political roles, “too tough” when referred to political controls, or “too greedy” when
referred to the ambitious military officers.568 This increased their awareness about
public sensitivity to the military issues – that the roles were to be more carefully
handled. Nevertheless, in a negative form, the effect was manifested in a
degradation of their sense of responsibility. When asked about post-Soeharto
social disorders happening in the Province, for example, the military respondents
usually reacted by saying “let it be” (biarin aja), “that is what they want” (memang
itu yang mereka mau), or “why should we bother, we have got enough our own
problems (ngapain itu diurusin, kita aja pontang panting)”.569
It appeared that the policy of military political withdrawal was not fully supported
personally, especially by those who had gained direct benefits from the previous
engagement. However, although the withdrawal had not automatically produced
their full acceptance of the democratic norms - in fact they blamed democratization
as the source of their difficulties – they recognized that the democratization was
inevitable. Most military personnel had stopped being involved in political and
economic activities mainly because they had no choice. They would be ready to
come back if the situation made it possible, for example, the institution allowed
them to or the political circumstances gave them an opportunity. Their reason for
their resentments toward the newly imposed democracy was very personal and
practical – that it made their lives more difficult economically. Although there were
some personnel who seemed to think more ideologically and politically, and
realized that the military had decided what it should do – withdraw from nonmilitary activities – nevertheless, if their personal interests were at stake, and if
future political circumstances allowed them to pursue these interests, this politically
ideal perception would be easily overwhelmed.
3. Political failure: The military-turned-civilian Bupatis and Mayors
568
569
Interviews B15, M11, M43.
Interviews M51, M112, M113. See also Chapter Five.
233
Another direct impact of the military withdrawal was on the former military Bupati
and Mayors who decided to retire early and try to keep their current positions. In
1998 nineteen of East Java’s thirty-eight District Governments were led by military
Bupati and Mayors (see Table VIII.2, p. 181). Fourteen of them decided to stay in
their existing positions and so retired early from the military, while five chose to go
back to the military units, either because of having no signs of significant support
from their local DPRD factions570 or because of having completed two periods of
office by then. Yet, one former Bupati said that he wanted to complete his service
until the retirement age. He said, “I came from very poor family before joining the
military, now I have got everything, and it was because of the military, so I should
not leave the military.”571 Fourteen of the eighteen who stayed in the positions
attempted to run for a second term in the office through the next local elections,
Pilkada (which will be presented in detail below).
The challenges for the eighteen officers who resigned from the military so they
could stay in their District Government leadership positions were how to cope with
the loss of direct support from the military and how to compensate for this loss by
building new relationships with civilian groups. Officially, they would need to show
publicly that they were already separated from the military institutions, as this was
the image that the institution wanted them to demonstrate as a way of convincing
the public about the military response to the reform demands. On the other hand,
these former military officers would also need to convince potential supporters
who were on the reformist side – including those who strongly opposed the
existence of the military in politics – that there was a convergence of interests of
both sides. However, as shown below, behind the scenes the (historical and
personal) links between the institutions and the former officers were kept alive. In
its quarterly official reports about territorial activities under the sub-heading of
Bidang Komsos (Social Communication) up to April 2003, the KODAM V
Brawijaya Territorial Staff mentioned maintaining communication with retired
military personnel and their families (Membina Keluarga Besar TNI, Cultivation of
the Army’s Extended Family) as being routinely carried out in each District
570
Two examples (personal and District names changed) of these cases were Retired Colonel Sutriman in the
Ngayarsari District; and Retired Colonel Sukarni in the Sampurredjo District. The information about them was
reported during interviews with respondents who were members of the DPRD in each District.
571
Interview M118.
234
Command headquarters. This included inviting them to activities such as sport
and other social activities, and routine gatherings every three months. The reports
also mentioned a total of 313,093 registered KBT throughout the Province. The
aim of the communication was, according to the reports, “to have the same
visions, perceptions and commitment in an attempt to re-build the military’s public
image”, and it was also said that the Pembinaan (Cultivation or Development) was
done by respecting the political rights of the KBT members.572
Those who believe that the military institution still had a strong influence in local
politics would think that these former officers would have to be able, at least, to
show their empathy toward the military – that after becoming civilians they were
not a threat to it nor would join the civilian pressure groups that were causing
difficulties for the military. Therefore, it is also logical to think that the success or
the failure of these former officers in achieving their political career would depend
importantly on their abilities in keeping a successful balance between these two
strategies, in a kind of being a double agent; publicly being a (civilian) reformist but
secretly collaborating with anti-reformist elements of the military. The features of
these former officers’ political struggles varied from one District to another, but it is
possible to classify them into five categories according to their success in
achieving this balance, from complete failure to complete success.
(i) The first category includes the complete failures, those who became the direct
victims of the democratic movements by being forced out of office before the next
elections. This was experienced, for example, by Retired Colonel Purnomo Sidik,
who had been Bupati of Banyuwangi. He was elected firstly in 1991 then, at the
end of that five year term, re-elected for a second term that would normally have
been 1996-2001. However, by the end of 1998 he was being pushed to step
down by mass demonstrations. In addition to the demonstrations, the new (1999)
DPRD members put strong pressures on him to resign. He was able to defend his
position for more than a year after the pressures were put on him. However, his
power significantly declined after he retired from the military in 2000 and in the
same year he resigned from the position. The main reason behind calling for the
572
Laporan Pelaksanaan Program Kerja Kodam V/Brawijaya, Bidang Territorial, s/d 30 April TA 2003 (Reports
on Koter Programs up to 30 April 2003), p. 10. These reports are not made available to the public.
235
resignation was an accusation that he had been involved in the Dukun Santet
murders573, although this has never been proved as it has never been brought to
court. Another less sinister but similar story happened in a nearby District. Retired
Colonel Sudaryanto, the Bupati of Situbondo was forced to leave the office by
around a thousand demonstrators who took over the District Government office
buildings in June 1998. He was accused of being involved in “fifty KKN cases”574.
Although, as in the case of Colonel Purnomo Sidik, this case had never been
brought to the court when in 2000 he finished his first office term, apparently the
accusation was effective in stopping him from registering as a candidate for a
second term.
The cases of both Purnomo Sidik and Sudaryanto, as noted in Chapter Five,
seemed to be direct consequences of the reformasi atmosphere in which the
military political withdrawal took place. They were becoming political targets of the
reformasi movements, while the military did not want to be seen as siding with
them especially after they were retired.575 Because at this time the military was
campaigning on “soul-searching” (mengembalikan jati-diri) and “restoring public
trust” (mengembalikan kepercayaan rakyat), it seemed to try to avoid being
affected by the negative issues involving (former) military personnel, taking a
position of a sort of “washing of hands” and offering no protection to them.576
(ii) The second category, also clear failures, is of former military Bupati and
Mayors who completed their current, first, term of office but were prevented from
participating in the elections for their second terms. Colonel Iwan Darmawan, the
Bupati of Tunggal Redjo, for example, did not face significant disruptions from the
reformasi movements that escalated in 1998/1999. Yet in 2000, a year before he
finished his first five-year period and a year before he could prepare for the next
election, he was shaken by an accusation of corruption over a market renovation
project.577 What is interesting is not whether the allegation was true or not,
573
Explaining the Dukun Santet issue has been very controversial, as Chapter Five has noted.
See also Chapter Five.
575
Although it could be that there were particular issues about the reputations of these two men rather than a
generalized one of ‘the military’, but there was not enough evidence to support that.
576
In 2000 he had two meetings with the Danrem of Malang who required him to follow the public demand for his
resignation. Interview M43, with an officer who was in charge of organizing administrative matters of the military
representatives in the DPRD.
577
The officer was outraged by the corruption charge. Interview M73.
574
236
because such notorious scandals were usual during the New Order era, but
whether those who used to protect him would keep shielding him or not. F-Golkar
and F-TNI/POLRI, the two factions that had supported him to be Bupati of the
District in the 1996 election abandoned him and, in fact, exploited the case. Hanif,
as the District Chairman of Golkar, took a position against him, preventing him
from joining the 2001 Pilkada, so that he could pursue his own ambition to occupy
the Bupati position. Because he had close relations with the Provincial level
KODAM, she could easily get the District’s F-TNI/POLRI Assembly members to
side with her. An influential Golkar member of the local DPRD, supported by its FTNI/POLRI, sent an official letter to the KODAM Headquarters, requesting that
Iwan Darmawan be recalled to his unit. The demand was accepted at KODAM
and the recall letter was issued along with a permission letter that allowed an
investigation over his conduct. Iwan Darmawan, who was the only military Bupati
in East Java who intended to run for the 2001 election but had not proposed his
retirement in 2000, ignored the re-call and threatened to disclose what he claimed
to be the truth, that is, if the HQ did not protect him he would reveal that most of
the money he was accused of obtaining corruptly had gone to high ranking
officers of the HQ. In the end, not only did he lose a chance to run for a second
term as Bupati, his case was brought to the court, while Hanif, the spouse of one
of the most successful businessmen in Tunggal Redjo managed to win the 2001
Pilkada with a significant support from the military.578 In this case, as in the cases
of Purnomo Sidik and Sudaryanto, the military tried to avoid being blamed for any
involvement in the scandals.
Preventing former military officers from extending their tenures as Bupati/Mayor
was not always done by the DPRD through an exploitation of their scandals. It
could also be done by making use of existing regulations, by rejecting their
LPJ/Laporan Pertanggung Jawaban (Final Accountability Report). Such a
rejection would cause them to lose their chance to register for participation in the
next election. This tactic was experienced by Retired Colonel H. Agus Fajri, the
Bupati of Bandulan. Unlike in the previous Tunggal Redjo case, here the FTNI/POLRI (military/police faction) attempted to secure the position for him. The
578
Interview M73. The respondent was the Chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI in this District.
237
Chairman of the faction, Lieutenant Colonel Muntahar, suggested to me that the
planned rejection was mainly aimed at preventing the Bupati from running for a
second term in the 2003 Pilkada, therefore the F-TNI/POLRI viewed it as unfair
and decided not to support the rejection by the rest of the DPRD. This faction was
the only one that accepted the accountability report while all other factions refused
it. As a consequence of the acceptance, he said, the F-TNI/POLRI members were
instructed to come to the KODAM HQ, just a few days after the DPRD session, for
an investigation, because they were suspected of having received hundreds of
millions of rupiah from H. Agus Fajri as a return for accepting the report, but all the
faction members denied the accusation.
Muntahar admitted that, long before the DPRD’s LPJ session, the F-TNI/POLRI
had lobbied other factions’ members to accept the report. This was done in an
attempt to save H. Agus Fajri in the coming election. Yet, the respondent said, this
was done only because the faction members viewed that they had a loyalty
responsibility to help him as members of the KBT (Keluarga Besar TNI/ Extended
Military Family), not because of any money. To say ‘the money’ implies it did exist,
however. This does not mean, however, that H. Agus Fajri succeeded in
maintaining a good relation with the military. According to the Chairman of the FTNI/POLRI, the “communication” between the Bupati and the F-TNI/POLRI
members was “poor”. He described the relation as not good because H. Agus
Fajri always looked down on the faction members; seeing them as sub-ordinate
officers with lower ranks. He never treated the faction members as equal to him,
although he should have done so to these legislature members. Besides, he
never paid attention to the “welfare” condition of the faction members (never giving
them money). This sounds ambiguous but it could be taken to mean he was
honest and did not ‘bribe’ or ‘sweeten’ them with money. Having also been a
military representative in a legislature for some years in Malang before moving to
Bandulan District, this respondent compared the financial assistance in both
places given by the Bupati to the local DPRD F-TNI/POLRI members, suggesting
that it was much better in Malang, and describing H. Agus Fajri as “terlalu pelit”
(too stingy). Their lobbying was somewhat difficult because H. Agus Fajri did not
provide financial supports (so they could not bribe other factions’ members on his
behalf). He seemed “too proud of himself” and assuming that the report would be
238
accepted by the LPJ session because his previous yearly reports had always
been accepted. He ignored the advice from the F-TNI/POLRI members – that he
would have to use money this time in order for the report to be accepted. On the
other hand, he tried to convince the F-TNI/POLRI members that he had got an
assurance from “Kiai berpengaruh NU” (an influential NU cleric), KA – that all FPKB members, the biggest faction that occupied a simple majority of the DPRD’s
seats, would accept his final report – in fact, it did not.579
The refusal by the DPRD’s LPJ session became a justification for the Election
Committee to refuse his application to register as a Bupati candidate in the 2003
Pilkada. He challenged both refusals, of his LPJ and of his registration, in the
appropriate
court,
the
PTUN
(Pengadilan
Tata
Usaha
Negara/State
Administration Court). However, in both cases the court decided that the refusals
were valid, so he was unsuccessful.580
H. Agus Fajri had failed both in securing a continuation of his relations with the
military and in building new support from the civilian groups. The F-TNI/POLRI
members had shown a willingness to help him, but they had been turned down as
he kept showing his “lack of respect” for them and was not ready to pay them
financial incentives. Communication seemed to be the main problem, not only
between Bupati and the faction, but between the faction and Headquarters. As it
appeared, the decision taken by the F-TNI/POLRI was not based on the
instruction of the KODAM Headquarters, and the faction had not consulted with
this Headquarters in advance either. Headquarters had itself attempted to avoid
being involved too deeply in negative (controversial) political issues, such as those
between this Bupati and ‘his’ DPRD, that involved F-TNI/POLRI members, or
those involving former military officers at the District level. (This is later discussed
further.) As in the previous three cases, Headquarters’ reactions appear to have
been mainly aimed at keeping an image that, if something unpleasant happened
579
Interview M79, with the Chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI of this District’s DPRD.
According to the Chairman of F-TNI/POLRI, the refusal of the LPJ by DPRD could be challenged in the court
because not all factions refused it (F-TNI/POLRI accepted it), while the refusal to the registration was also weak
because the registration took place when the LPJ refusal had not been given legal decision. But he said, it seems
that the court was influenced very much by the political pressures and threats by political groups that if Agus Fajri
won there would be political chaos or instability. Interview M81, with the Deputy Chairman of the DPRD of this
District, who was also a member of its F-TNI/POLRI.
580
239
involving people identified as being military representatives, it had nothing to do
with the military institution itself but only with “rough (oknum).individuals”.
Building support from the new political parties was not an easy task for the former
military Bupati, even though they may be regarded as “clean” by not being
involved in or even accused of any scandal. As mentioned previously, during the
New Order regime only the Golkar (government), PDI (secular or Christian) and
PPP (Islamic) organizations were allowed to field parliamentary candidates. One
of the obvious elements of reformasi was the allowing of almost any (nonCommunist or non-military) political grouping to establish itself as a recognized
political party. A large number put forward candidates at the subsequent elections
but only a few gained enough votes to succeed in getting any of their candidates
into the national or local parliaments. The (Islamic) religiously-oriented PKB and
PAN were two of them that were successful, particularly the PKB, while the PDIP
replaced the, by then, discredited PDI.
This was clearly shown in the case of Retired Colonel Maryoto in the District of
Prambanan. The Chairman of the local DPRD’s F-TNI/POLRI, Lieutenant Colonel
Wardoyo Hasim, revealed that, on behalf of Maryoto, he arranged a meeting in a
hotel to try to set up a coalition of the F-TNI/POLRI, F-DIP and PAN members, to
build support for Maryoto in the coming election. In this meeting a commitment
was agreed, to do their best to bring him to a victory. However, as time went by,
some members of the coalition changed their positions and left for the opposition
group, the combined F-KB and F-Golkar coalition.581 Later, Maryoto said that he
was not so sure about relying on the F-TNI/POLRI because the faction would not
be in the DPRD from 2004582 so, if he were elected to be Bupati, the F-TNI/POLRI
would not be there to back him up, so he considered a move toward the F-KB. In
an attempt to lobby this faction, he managed to facilitate a big wedding party for
the family of an informal leader, Kiyai Basir, of an Islamic boarding school
(pesantren), providing funds and staff to help. The pesantren leader agreed with
Maryoto’s suggestion to invite ex-President Abdurrahaman Wahid (Gusdur), the
581
There is no first-hand evidence about why they changed their positions, but the respondent suspected that
they were promised “bigger bribes” by the coalition group. Interview M88.
582
Because of the policy that the compulsory allocation of non-elected seats to the military would be stopped at
this election.
240
national Chairman of the PKB, and Akbar Tanjung, the Chairman of the Golkar
Party and the Chairman of the National Parliament (DPR), to the wedding party.
During the party he took the chance to approach the two political parties’
Chairmen. Unfortunately, this lobbying effort did not work either, the PKB-Golkar
coalition decided to nominate someone else.583 My respondent told me that
Maryoto then indicated that he wanted to return to the F-TNI/POLRI, F-PDIP and
PAN coalition, but some members who had previously supported him felt
disappointed with his previous move, and now did not accept him, so he decided
not to go forward. So, as in the previous cases, Retired Colonel Maryoto failed to
register as a Bupati candidate.
(iii) In the third category were some former military Bupati who were allowed to
participate in the Pilkada, but were unsuccessful. The majority of cases of the
political departure of former military Bupati and Mayors fell into this category.
Some of them were competing against former officers or against active officers,584
but all failed. As well as the example described of the two officers in Godean, there
were the cases of the two officers in Jambangan; the three officers in Ngadiredjo;
and the two retired officers in Jabung Anyar. As one example, in the Godean
District, Retired Colonel Suwarna Solikin previously had been nominated as the
primary candidate, and been approved by the Minister of Home Affairs. The newly
elected DPRD legislature, however, refused to continue the process of the
election and restarted a new Pilkada. Criteria for the eligibility of candidates were
revised, and all factions except the F-TNI/POLRI put forward a requirement stating
that military officers, either active or retired, were not eligible. Consequently,
Suwarna Solikin could only register through the F-TNI/POLRI which had only five
members. These five potential votes then dropped by one because Lieutenant
Colonel Markus Sumanto, a member of the faction, decided to register himself as
the Vice-Bupati candidate through the F-PKB. According to a member of the FTNI/POLRI, Suwarna Solikin decided to go forward because he thought that he
could build additional supports from the members of other factions. In fact, at the
final voting stage, he gained only one of the forty-five votes.585
583
Interview M88, with the Chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI of this District’s DPRD.
Interview M33, with a former member of the Wansospolda of East Java.
585
In contrast, his opponent, HRM, the Chairman of the DPRD, won 32 votes. The other three members of the FTNI/POLRI chose to join the F-KB, the biggest faction, to support HRM.
584
241
Similar situations to this were experienced by Retired Colonel Sukamdani Marlan
in the Sumedang District, Retired Colonel Sudjati in the Pancang Tanggul District
and Retired Colonel Dodi Amarullah in the Pisang Candi District. They managed
to register and follow the process of the Pilkada till the end, but finally lost because
the majority of the voting local legislators did not support them.
(iv) In the fourth, small, category were those who won their re-election but
subsequently suffered from crippling or fatal conflict. There were two retired
Colonels in this category: Retired Colonel Sudirman Nasirun, the District Head of
Sumber Yasin, and Retired Colonel Fadli Bianto, the Bupati of Sumberwaras.
Although he managed to win the election in 2000 for a second five-year term,
Sudirman Nasirun subsequently failed in his struggle to secure his position
because of corruption allegations. He was forced to step down in the middle of
2002 over several cases of corruption, and died while on his retreat (supposedly
for medical reasons) to Australia. Fadli Bianto still survived until 2003 but, at the
time of study, it was uncertain that he would make it until 2005, the end of his
second period of office, because, like Sudirman Nasirun, from the early days of his
being re-elected he never stopped being shaken by political controversies and
pressures. The inauguration was postponed for a year after the election, political
chaos ended up with the burning down of the DPRD offices by the opposition
groups soon after the delayed inauguration corruption scandals brought him to the
courts, and marked his second period.
(v) The fifth category, the completely successful, is made up of only one man,
Retired Colonel Sutiono, the only former military officer who was successful in
winning election in 2003. At the end of 2003 he managed to get a Bupati position
on his second try. One respondent said that when Sutiono registered as a Bupati
candidate in the 2000 Pilkada of Sidikalang, he was not supported by the
KODAM, nor by the F-TNI/POLRI there.586 The respondents from the FTNI/POLRI of this District said that the faction did not support him because the
KODAM gave a sign that it did not support him. So, instead of through the F-
586
Interview M38.
242
TNI/POLRI, he registered through the F-DIP, the second biggest faction after the
F-KB.587 One military respondent said that Sutiono had an unpleasant experience
in his relations with his former institution. When he came to the KODAM with the
purpose of legalizing his documents for use in the Pilkada registration
administration requirements, he attempted to meet an officer in the personnel
staff, the staff that on behalf of the Commander in Chief could produce a letter of
recommendation for his registration. He tried to ask for the recommendation, but
was put down by the officer, who had ranked lower than him before he had retired
but who told him in “an angry intonation while pointing his finger at him” that the
KODAM would not give him such a letter. The officer said, “If you wanted a
recommendation letter, you should have asked the Pepabri (tAssociation of
Retired Military), not to KODAM”. The respondent said that Sutiono was shocked
by the way he was treated at the KODAM.588 So, Sutiono got a new lesson from
KODAM that being a retired officer did not have to mean being automatically
supported by the military institution.
He did learn from this experience; having failed in the Sidikalang Pilkada, two
years later when he participated in the Buluhlawang Pilkada he avoided going to
the KODAM for “a blessing” (restu) as most candidates who wanted to get the
support from their F-TNI/POLRI did.589 Yet he managed to get the full support
from the five members of the local F-TNI/POLRI, who took a different position from
the local territorial commanders, and won the election. The case of Buluhlawang is
discussed more detail in Chapter Eleven, but it is important to note here that
Sutiono proved that the 2003 circumstance showed that the military territorial
commanders could no longer control the position of the F-TNI/POLRI members in
the Pilkada, even less so their outcomes. This was simply because these
commanders were not supported institutionally to take such a control, although in
some occasions they did use their institutional positions to justify their actions. In
587
Interview M68, with the Chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI; Interview M67, with the Deputy Chairman of the
DPRD.
588
The respondent who witnessed this drama said that Sutiono was surprised when finding out that his former
junior spoke rudely to him without showing any respect, only a few months after he had retired. The respondent
was present at this incident as he had been one of the personnel staff at the KODAM in 2000. At the time of
interview he was the Chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI in a District of East Java Province. He said, after Sutiono left
the room, the officer told the staff that Sutiono had to learn that the KODAM did not want to be involved anymore
in such matters. Interview M38.
589
This District Chairman of an F-TNI/POLRI revealed that Sutiono did not want to go to the KODAM, which is
why it did not support him, whereas his opponent did go there for “a blessing”. Interview M84.
243
addition it also proved that a candidate who was a retired military man was not
always preferred by the military institution above a civilian; and it was personal
rather than institutional relations that strongly determined the political behaviors of
the military officers.
The lack of success of the former officers in continuing their political careers was
mainly because they failed both to secure sufficient support from the military
hierarchy and to build new supports from the civilian political groups. For the
military institution, supporting these former officers could harm its commitment to
leave the political arena. For the new civilian political groups (political parties,
democratic activists or NGOs), there was no guarantee that these former officers
would be fully on the reformist side, while embracing them could ruin the public
perception toward their groups as reformist. However, although these former
officers did not succeed, they remain the most available element for civilian elites
who were willing and competent to bring attractive military officers into becoming
involved in politics. As shown, especially by the last category of the uniquely
exceptional success, members of an F-TNI/POLRI could be successfully pulled
into supporting a former officer to be elected into a Bupati office. This retired officer
was even much skilful than the local military commander who had attempted to
use his institutional position to prevent the faction from supporting him.
4. Deterioration: The DPRD military factions
The strong resistance of the public to the presence of the military in the DPRD
reduced the interests of officers in being selected as candidates for the FTNI/POLRI appointments.590 Meanwhile, those officers who were already in a
DPRD increasingly felt they were being isolated and marginalized. In some
occasions, local groups would come to a DPRD to see representatives from all
factions except for the F-TNI/POLRI, excluding it by adding “except F-TNI/POLRI”
in their proposals for the meetings.591 For example, such exclusions happened
frequently in the Ponorogo DPRD, where a similar discriminatory approach was
590
Interview M33, with a former staff member of the Social Political Section in a territorial unit. His previous job
was involved in the selection process for the F-TNI/POLRI member candidates.
591
Another consequence of being left out by the meeting would be that they did not receive the meeting
incentives (uang rapat). Interview M4.
244
also displayed by the civilian DPRD leaders. In responding to the demands from
members of BPDs (Village Councils) in Ponogoro to increase their monthly
“incentives”, the DPRD Chairman invited the Chairman of all its factions apart from
the F-TNI/ POLRI for a similar reason – that those in this faction were not
representatives of the people.592 Unlike in the New Order era, being a military
representative at the DPRD was no longer being seen as a good stepping stone
for a military-political-related career.
Meanwhile, the military institution also became disinclined to give away good
career officers to these positions. So, the Headquarters sent non-career officers
(conscript officers) who worked at administrative tasks. Unlike in the New Order
era when former Commanders of Battalions of Infantry, Artillery or Armour used to
be appointed to positions in DPRD, now the majority of army officers in DPRD
were non-career officers from administrative branches of the CKM (such as the
Corp Kesehatan Militer, Military Health Corps) or from sections of the BINTAL
(Ideology and Chaplaincy Service).
However, on November 30, 2000, the National Government issued Government
Decree (Peraturan Pemerintah) PP. No. 110/ 2000, which brought about a
dramatic increase in the salaries of members of the local Legislative Assemblies.
As the salaries of the members of each District Legislature are calculated based
on that District Government’s revenue, the amount varies greatly from one District
to another. In the rich Districts like the City of Surabaya the salary of the DPRD
Chairman was more than 30 million rupiah a month (about Aus$ 4000), while in a
poor District like the Regency of Situbondo it was only around 5 million (about
Aus$ 700). Yet, this is much higher than an average wage of the lowest rank of
civil servant, which is around 500,000 rupiah (about Aus$ 70) per month.593 As a
consequence, the position of the military representatives in DPRD began to attract
greater attention. Although the groups of officers interested in the DPRD jobs were
still primarily non-career officers, the increase in the salary quickly corrupted the
process of recruitment. Most appointments since the increase in the salary had
been determined by the amount of money spent for paying “pelicin” (the
592
593
Interview M51.
See Appendix 22 that shows numerous items of routine allowances for the DPRD members.
245
‘smoothing’ or bribe) to the officers in charge of selection, instead of by the quality
and integrity of the candidates. Furthermore, while in the past the officers had to
take several courses, lasting six to nine months, such as the Suscaleg (Legislation
course), Sussospol or Susgati Sospol (Political courses), before working in the
legislatures, now these courses were eliminated. So the changing process of the
recruitment that increasingly ignored the candidates’ capability and integrity also
significantly influenced the reported recent low quality of the political capabilities of
the members of F-TNI/ POLRI.594
Jealousy and scepticism toward the officers who were in the thirty eight DPRD
across the Province also increased because of their decreasing ability but their
increasing willingness to pay the high cost of “kasak-kusuk” (bribe money) for the
positions. As they were appointed because they paid money, not because of their
credibility, once they got the jobs most of them thought mainly about earning
money, not about their job responsibility. Related to this, the HQ was suspicious
that the members of the various F-TNI/POLRI were involved in money politics
during the Bupati/Mayor elections, but had no sufficient means to prove it.
Therefore, the positions as the military representatives became looked down on
morally within the military.595 Furthermore, conflicting positions in the elections
between the territorial commands and the various local F-TNI/POLRI became
common (discussed further in Chapter Eleven). Even though some territorial
commanders wanted to put tight controls over the F-TNI/POLRI members, the
commanders were limited by the institutional commitment to stay neutral in politics
and not to intervene in the factions’ political activities. This commitment to
neutralaity became the powerful justification for the faction members to protect
their freedom from the territorial commands’ attempted controls.596
It also appears that after the increase in salaries of DPRD members, some retired
officers refused to end their DPRD jobs as military representatives even though
their appointment had finished once they retired. Some of them used political
594
Interview M32. For more opinions about the decrease in the personal quality of the F-TNI/POLRI members,
see also Chapter Six.
595
Interview M45. The respondent was an officer of the KODAM Provincial Headquarters responsible for
personnel recruitment and selection of members of the F-TNI/POLRI.
596
Interview M45.
246
lobbying within their DPRD to try to prevent their being replaced. As the
mechanism of recalling a member of the DPRD had to consider many political
aspects, thus took time, the military HQ frequently could only replace them after
six months or more of disagreement.
On 5 February 2002 the Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces issued an
instruction, No. STR/127/2002, instructing that “members of F-TNI/POLRI must be
active-duty officers,” implying that it had been discovered by the headquarters that
some of these members had been retired but not yet replaced as the FTNI/POLRI members. As seen in Table IX.1 KODAM Headquarters sent follow-up
letters to the Chairmen of the DPRD in several Districts, such as Mangliawan, of
Moronegoro, Sidikalang and Talangsari. In these cases the recall letters had been
issued and sent to the DPRD by the Pangdam or the East Java Governor two or
thee times before the replacement took place at around three to eighteen months
the military representatives retired.
Table IX.1. Members of F-TNI/POLRI involved in the recall disputes
District
names and
number of
cases
Mangliawan
(2)
Officer
branches and
retirement
dates
1. Ltc (ret) Navy
28-02-2002
Moronegoro
(2)
3. Ltc (ret) Navy
01-12-2001
4. Ltc (ret) Army
01-06-2001
4. Ltc. Army
(active- duty)
Recall letters
1st: 23-032002
2nd: 28-052002 (from
Pangdam)
1st: 23-042002 (from
Governor )
2nd: 28-052002 (from
Pangdam)
1st: 22-052002 (from
Pangdam)
2nd:28-052002 (from
Pangdam)
Data not
available
Solutions
Replaced around six
months after retired
Replaced around six
months after retired
Replaced around
twelve months after
retired
Picked up by Kodam
military police from
his office and
stationed at the HQ
247
Sidikalang
(2)
5. Police
Commissioner
(ret)
01-01-2001
6. Ltc (ret) Army
(active-duty)
Sumberwaras 7. Ltc. .Army
(1)
(active-duty)
1st: 30-112001 (from
Pangdam)
2nd: 28-052002 (from
Pangdam)
1st: 30-112001
2nd: 28-052002
3rd:
Data not
available
without job.
Replaced around
eighteen months
after retired
Replaced several
months after retired
Picked up by Kodam
military police from
his office and
stationed at the HQ
without job.
Replaced around
three months after
retired
1st: 23-042002 (fom
Governor)
2nd: 28-052002 (from
Pangdam)
Talangsari
9. Ltc (ret) Army 1st: 13-09-201 Replaced around
(2)
01-11-2001
2nd: 28-05eight months after
2002
retired
3rd: 07-062002
10. Ltc (ret) Navy 1st: 13-09Replaced around
01-12-2001
2001
seven months after
2nd: 28-05retired
2002
3rd: 07-062002
Sources: Official letters from KODAM to the respective DPRDs and from
interviews with relevant officers.
Note: All names of places appear in the table are pseudonyms.
Sumber
Yasin
(1)
8. Ltc (ret) Navy
01-04-2002
The table shows that, in these cases, not only the Pangdam but also the Governor
had no longer a dominating influence over the District DPRD, as their letters had
been repeatedly ignored by the DPRD Chairmen. The second letters of the
Pangdam to the Speakers of the DPRDs stated that,
…[the Headquarters] requests that the Chairman of the [respective
district] DPRD not complicate personnel and administration development
within the sphere of the military institution (disampaikan kepada Ketua
248
DPRD…agar tidak menghambat pembinaan personil dan administrasi di
lingkungan TNI)597
This letter implies that by ignoring the Pangdam’s first recall letters, the Speakers
of the DPRDs were acting as if undermining his authority as the superior of the
military representatives at the DPRDs and complicating the personnel
management of the military. Tensions between the DPRD and the HQ marked
this process, with the rebellious officers hiding behind political reasons and under
protection from the Speakers of DPRDs who had their own political interests in
maintaining political balance of power (or with bribery possibly playing a role!). The
challenges by the DPRD Speakers and (in theory) military representatives to the
recalls by the military institution demonstrate a quite radical change in the relations
between the military and the local politics, which was unimaginable in the New
Order, and underlines the decline of the military’s (institutional) influence over the
local politics.
To end a deadlock of the negotiations, some of the refusers were compulsorily
picked up by military provosts, forced to leave their DPRD seats and to report to
their previous military units. An officer who was dealing with these replacement
matters in KODAM said that, in Sumberwaras, Lieutenant Colonel Muchalib was
forced to come to the Headquarters after a year of extending his DPRD
membership without waiting for the DPRD Speaker to sign the replacement letter
and he was ordered to report to his unit commander every morning for two
months until his retirement letter was issued.598 Similarly, in Moronegoro,
Lieutenant Colonel Sugondo Harsono was picked up by the Headquarters’
provost after six months because he ignored the recall order. The respondent told
me, “We [the Headquarters] had followed the procedures, but because the DPRD
did not show an intention to respond positively, we did it in our own way, we sent
military provosts to pick him up.”599 In response to this, the DPRD could not but
accept new officers as the replacements; although some politicians who were
members of the groups of the replaced officers criticized the military for not
respecting the democratic political mechanism. The Speaker of the DPRD in
597
Copies of the letters are in the possession of the author.
Interview M43.
599
Interview M43.
598
249
Sumberwaras said, “We could not accept that [the instruction to Ltc. Muchalib to
leave the seats without the PDRD consent], because we knew that the
replacement was very political [related to the issue of re-election of the Bupati600],
but they [the military headquarters] insisted.”
This DPRD Speaker might have been considering more his groups’ political
interests in delaying the replacement. Yet this consideration does not seem to be
relevant to these officers who were to be replaced, their personal economic gains
seem to have been more dominant instead. The various more self-oriented
attitudes of these local military officers, which have been discussed in more detail
in Chapter Eight, give clear indications. Here, it suffices to note that in a
circumstance where getting an adequate economic life was not easily accessible,
and where there were now opportunities to challenge the rules and regulations,
there were these several cases of military officers who had previously been
appointed to be members of local decision-making elites, subsequently attempting
to make use of the rules’ revealed inadequacies or overtly disobeying them in
order to increase or at least maintain personal economic gains.
5. Conclusion
The changes of political circumstances led to hard times in the personal lives of
the military personnel who had previously benefited from the appointment of
military personnel into civilian local bureaucratic or political roles. In fact, across
East Java the new post-1998 political constellations affected hundreds of military
personnel of different ranks who lost their civilian positions (and incomes and
lifestyles), the military Bupati and Mayors who had to stand on their own feet for
their political struggles, and the members of the reduced military representative
factions in the District legislatures who, although suddenly more highly paid, were
to remain only until 2004. Yet, whether the various difficulties they had
experienced had also changed the perceptions of these individual personnel in
terms of democracy and professionalism has a question mark over it. Their
immediate expressions of opinion in interviews were very much influenced by how
600
This Sumberwaras election case was discussed in Chapter Eight., section 4.
250
the changes had affected them individually. It was apparent that in the views of
most of them the influence was much more negative than positive – and that the
democratizing changes were the causes that were to be blamed for their
difficulties. This is despite the fact that, behind the immediate resentments, for a
relatively large minority there had emerged a new understanding that the military
was no longer the politically superior body that it had been, so the previous
arrogant tendency had begun to decline. As the impacts they experienced were
too severe to quickly overcome or forget, it appears that it will need a substantial
time before a truly democratic concept can be fully accepted within the military.
This is not to suggest that there was a strong possibility for the military to return to
politics as in the New Order, because suspicion and resistance from the local
civilian political societies to what they saw as military intervention into their political
spheres were still too strong, such as was demonstrated by the Speakers of
DPRD in several Districts over the attempted recalls of members of the FTNI/POLRI by the KODAM. Notwithstanding, the negative reactions shown by the
former karya officers indicates that, in continuing to minimize military involvement
in politics it would be unrealistic to rely solely on the willingness of the individual
military as there is still a great number of personnel who had tasted the fruits of
political power and may be ready to return to the politics if and when possible.
Instead, systemic restrictions by rule of law will have to be continually maximized,
although in the long run a “professional ethic” of being an apolitical military will
have to be encouraged within the military as an essential condition for a lasting
civilian control over it.
While this chapter has focussed on impacts on the politicized individual local
military personnel, the next chapter will focus on the local military units.
Chapter Ten
IMPACT ON LOCAL MILITARY (2):
The Declining Effectiveness of Its Security Role
251
…when asking the military units to help to provide soldiers for guarding
such as exhibitions or music concerts such as dangdut, [traditional
music], it was much easier, as they do not care about the procedures,
but when asked controlling demonstrations, they talked about the
procedures.601
If you report you have lost your motorcycle and ask for help to the police,
you will lose your car.602
1. Introduction
Having examined the impact of the withdrawal on individual officers in Chapter
Nine, for the same purpose, that is, to look for the likelihood of the establishment of
an apolitical, professional military,603 this chapter will look at the local military units.
As noted earlier in Chapter Six, the removal of most of the military direct control or
even presence from local bureaucracy and the dismantling of the military’s political
networks appeared to have minimized not only its political power, but also those of
its economic resources which were attached to those controls and networks. The
question that this chapter attempts to address is, what has happened from the
financial cuts to the local territorial military units; how, if at all, has the military tried
to deal with these cuts; how has this change in the financial aspect affected the
perception of the Army personnel about the territorial jobs and the future roles of
the territorial commands; and what is the prospect for the improvement in
professionalism of the territorial units. As also related to the professionalism and
as part of the military reform policies, this chapter questions the impact of the
military-police separation on the security management at the local level.
2. The money dried up
Although Koter had remained unchanged in its structure, its ability to perform both
political and security roles could by no means be comparable to its powerful
capability during the New Order era. The financial impact of the military withdrawal
from politics had been of vital importance. Large amounts of money that had
come previously with the social and political programs assigned to the territorial
601
Interview P122.
Interview V20.
603
As described in Chapter Two, sub-section 4.2.
602
252
units had now disappeared. A former military District Commander suggested that,
after the New Order era, no less than five hundred million rupiah a year that used
to be received by the District level KODIM units now had dried up.604 In addition,
the units had also lost access to the local government resources that used to be
channeled through strategic local civilian positions occupied by military officers.605
Furthermore, as a consequence of these two factors, the territorial units also lost
many business partners, who now made closer relations with the local civilian
governments – partly as consequential effect of a new decentralization – and with
the police which was increasingly gaining a stronger power than the military.606
Promising for the future efforts of minimizing military politics, however, is that there
was no indication of a systematic attempt by the military to compensate that the
loss, for instance by channeling the military interests to the retired military who
were members of political parties or local government leaders. There were,
nevertheless, various personal approaches by the local territorial commanders to
the members of the F-TNI/POLRI to get security fund assistance from the local
governments.
This security fund assistance had recently become one of the few additional
sources of money to supplement the formal, and small, fund that was provided
from the central military command budget. For an indication of what these
involved see the detailed list in Appendix 6 and 20. The amounts of money varied
greatly from one District to another depending on several factors, such as the
amount of the District Government’s locally-raised income (PAD/Pendapatan Asli
Daerah), the relations between the District Commander and the District DPRD’s
F-TNI/POLRI (which would be possible only up to 2004 when this faction would be
abolished), and the capability of the F-TNI/POLRI members in lobbying other
factions in their DPRD and the leaders in their District Government. If all these
factors were favourable the District’s military units were allocated large security
funds, if unfavourable they would get very little, although there were cases in
which a mixture produced the most.
604
Interview M29, with a former Military District Commander in the Godean District who, at the time of interview,
was a member of the F-TNI/POLRI of the Matingan DPRD.
605
Examples of these various positions are mentioned in Chapter Three.
606
Interview M18, with the Military District Commander of Mangliawan (false name).
253
One of the most successful cases was found in Situnggal District. Here the
Government’s total budget was not large, but “the lobbies are effective”, and as
the result the security budget for military and police was allocated more than 10%
of the total local government revenue (1 billion of the 9 billion rupiah PAD) in the
2003 budget.607 This percentage was much bigger than the amount allocated in
the Panorama District, for example, where the security fund only provided an
amount of two hundred million rupiah (one fifth of that in Situnggal) in the same
year, although the District PAD there was slightly bigger. In fact, compared to
other Districts, Situnggal’s revenue of nine billion rupiah was much smaller, but the
ratio of the security fund allocation was among the highest in the East Java
province. Other Regencies that provided significant amount for the security
financial assistance are Malang, Surabaya and Banyuwangi608. Because of this,
those Districts have been favoured places for the District Military Commander
candidates. In contrast, the Districts of Ngadiredjo, Panorama, Sumber Manjing,
Ngayarsari, and Bandulan were less favoured because the chances available for
financial benefits were much more limited. Not only were their government
budgets much smaller but also the business communities with which the
Commanders could interact were very limited.609
It is not really clear what factor or factors had made the lobbying by the FTNI/POLRI members in the Situnggal District DPRD as effective as they claimed.
It was quite ironic, actually, that the lobbying in the District could alleged to be
much better done than in other Districts, because Situnggal was a District that was
dominated by the PKB, which occupied 30 of the 45 DPRD seats, and since 1998
was an area where anti-military sentiment was quite strong. Anti-military sentiment
in this Islamic-dominated community was much influenced by past experience
such as an incident between the military and the local community in 1996 when
rioting occurred in front of the local court, with several local people beaten and
shot by soldiers during the riot. In early 1998, the military Regent was forced to
step down by the mass demonstrations, and had no chance to participate in the
607
This was reported by some respondents who were members of the F-TNI/POLRI and by the Secretary
(Sekwan) of the Situnggal DPRD.
608
The real names of these Districts.
609
Information about the favourite/less-favourite classification was given by military respondents, former Military
District Commanders and current District Commanders: Interviews M51, M89, M92 and M82.
254
2000 Pilkada because of strong resistance from the public. In some interviews
with members of the F-TNI/PPOLRI they claimed that they felt responsible “to
make sure that the military units located in the District had sufficient attention from
the local government”, which was why they worked hard to achieve this. Yet, this
statement does not answer why the local Government and the local DPRD
members agreed with the faction’s proposals.610 Whether they personally got
something in return – for example, some kind of commission from the projects was not clear, but it was quite reasonable to think of this because it was a very
common practice of the ways DPRD members achieve an establishment of
development projects for their constituent area.
Respondents stated similar attitudes of DPRD members in the Districts of
Bandulan and Panorama – for example, earning some commissions from the
projects they proposed for the area of their respective constituents. They said that
this was so common that other members usually turned a blind eye to those who
were practicing it.611 The respondents also suggested that recently the conflicts
between the Chairman of the DPRD and the Regent were heating up. The
respondent said that recently many mass demonstrations from both sides were
held in front of both the Regent’s Office and DPRD Office. In the former the
demonstrators were protesting the corruption allegation against the government
officials involved in the management of the Beras Taskin (Rice for Poverty Lifting)
program, while in the latter the demonstrators were sent by the Regent for
counter-demonstrations to protest against the DPRD members “intervening too
far”.612 Whether the faction also took advantage of this conflict to lobby both sides,
by playing a “double agent role” – such as playing one against the other, or
pretending to side with each of them – in favour of the proposal was also not
impossible, but there is not sufficient data to suggest that. Perhaps there were
more security fears, real or imagined, in this District? In 1998 and 1999 the District
was one of those where Dukun Santet killings (discussed in Chapter Five, pp. 98-
610
The respondent stated that before putting forward the proposal for the security fund in the DPRD’s APBD
(budget) meeting, he contacted the commanders of the military and police units in order to get them to lodge their
lists of needs for the financial/material assistance. These lists were combined and became the reference for the
faction to support the proposal. Interview M48.
611
Interviews M80, M51.
612
Interview M48.
255
103) happened. It might be thought that the security forces need to be supported
to minimize or prevent such violence in the future.
The importance of the role of the F-TNI/POLRI members in helping the security
units to get financial assistance from the local government budget was shown by
the respondents from Banjar Wetan. Lieutenant Colonel Markus, Deputy of the
Chairman of the Banjar Wetan DPRD, illustrated how he could secure the
proposal for the security budgets during the DPRD meeting. As the moderator of
the meeting, he managed to make the floor pass the pages containing the security
budget by avoiding questioning of those pages in the meeting, thus avoiding
possible resistance from the other members. It would have been a different story,
he said, if the meeting was led or moderated by someone else.613
Chapter Eleven discusses the attitudes of the DPRD civilian members, including
their laziness in coming to their offices or in doing their jobs properly or being
mainly interested in making money; so, it was possible that Markus’s tactic
worked. However, in my opinion this tactic was only working incidentally, and if
any other members had seriously wanted and intended to question the allocation,
they would have seen, known about and prepared beforehand what was in the
proposals (including the security allocations) before the meeting. In addition,
although Markus said most of the meeting participants did not read the proposal
carefully before the meeting, it would be necessary for only one or two to have
done the work beforehand and raise the attention of the others to it. So, I do not
think that this was all that needed doing to get the proposal through. Instead, as
noted earlier, bribery seems such a normal practice that also helped to keep them
quiet. In addition, it seemed also that Markus had his personal economic interests
in helping the security units in getting security funds from the APBD. He told me
that the fund was not given in cash, but in the forms of building materials, or
613
Technically, he said, it was like this: “OK, page blah…blah…blah…, no problem, page blah…blah…blah are
clear, let see the next page, and so on.” He also said that most of the meeting participants were not prepared in
advance to see in detail the hundred pages of the budget lists, so it was not too difficult for him to manipulate the
DPRD members’ attention to not scrutinize the parts containing security budgets. So, it involved a kind of
cheating-like trick. Interview M55. Another officer revealed another way of securing the interests of the military –
that normally he asked members of other fractions to speak in favor of his interests, and in return, he did the same
thing for the interests of the latter, such as project allocations for his area of constituents. Interview M53.
256
renovation projects for the security units’ bases, while he was involved in the
projects.
The cases of Situnggal and Banjar Wetan were contrast with the cases of
Panorama, Ngayarsari or Bandulan where the members of the F-TNI/POLRI did
not try hard to get the security fund increased in the local government budget. In
these Districts the respondents from members of the F-TNI/POLRI criticized their
District Military Commanders who were less proactive in approaching them and
who had failed to build good relations with the local government leaders.614 On the
other hand, the Military District Commanders of these two Districts criticized the FTNI/POLRI members, claiming that “did not care about the security forces, only
attempted to fill up their pockets”.615 So, the relations between the military units
and the F-TNI/POLRI members seem not to have been harmonised either; thus
access to the local Governments’ budgets was poor too.
In Batang District, it was not the F-TNI/POLRI members who attempted to help
the security forces be allocated financial assistance in the government budget, but
a civilian, the Chairman of the DPRD, and the member of the F-Golkar. According
to him, the members of the F-TNI/POLRI did not pay attention to the needs of the
security forces; it seems that they were “too worried of being criticized by other
faction members” if they attempted to get the units greater access to the
government’s resources. One member of the F-TNI/POLRI that I interviewed
confirmed that there was not much that they could do to help the military units in
this District because resistance from the other factions was strong.616 The Golkar
representative had long been a Golkar member in the DPRD in several Districts
since 1982, and had a good relation with military commanders in these Districts.
As in the Banjar Wetan case mentioned earlier, he himself contacted the military
district units to ask what they needed. He usually offered assistance in the forms
of physical developments such as building renovations, transportation or
communication tools.617 A formal, technical, reason that the respondent gave
about why he preferred to give the assistance in the forms of material, not cash,
614
Interviews M53, M89, M80.
Interviews M82, M92.
616
Interview G77.
617
Interview G77.
615
257
was that there was no article in the new law (Law No.25/1999 about local
government financial matters) that made it possible to allocate any amount of
money to the military units. By giving assistance in the form of materials, this
would be included in the development budget (Anggaran Pembangunan). Yet
what he did not say was that a concealed mark-up was only possible to be
arranged through this way, a common practice that was mentioned earlier.
In most Districts the military units were reluctant to propose financial assistance
because of worries about being politicized by the DPRD members.618 However,
there were some exceptional cases. A Golkar respondent criticized the Military
District Commander (Dandim) in Mantingan District for being “too vulgar” in
proposing to the DPRD for a FWD Nissan Terrano (price around 300 million
rupiah, about Aus$ 45,000) that would be used as the Dandim’s own official car
(Mobil Dinas). This respondent said, “I know that the KODIM’s position has been
very poor compared to the other members of the Muspida in terms of finance, no
longer very rich as during the New Order era, but the Commander should not
have gone too far, to have been no longer ashamed to beg (meminta minta) to the
local Government”. He suggested that the proposal was triggered by jealousy at
the local District Police previously proposing 1 billion rupiah for the Mantingan
Pilkada’s security budget. Actually, prior to the proposal there had been an
informal discussion between him and the Commander. This should have been
enough, and should have not been formalized with a written proposal because it
would attract strong resistance from other factions. The proposal could have been
embarrassing for the military, should the respondent have not kept it secret. When
the proposal was directed to him as the Chairman, he decided not to let the other
committee members know in order to secure the Commander’s face. Being the
son of a retired military man, and having had a political career in Golkar as the
result of his close relations with the military, especially when he was an activist of
the FKPPI (Forum Komunikasi Putra Putri Indonesia, an association of youths in
military families), he could not, he said, ignore his feeling of attachment to the
military, therefore he felt psychologically responsible to not let the military down.
The result of the proposal was that all Muspida members were given a “Mobil
618
This was what several Commanders stated in the interviews. Interviews M82, M92, M18, with people who
were all Military District Commanders when the interviews were conducted.
258
Dinas” (official car), but one with a much lower price, a 150 million rupiah FWD
Kijang LGX.619
The F-TNI/POLRI members were reluctant to help the proposal get approved, as
they knew that by doing so their position would be unpleasant in front of other
civilian politicians. They felt that, should the proposal be approved, let it be “without
us” (tanpa kita), for fear that something unpleasant would happen latter.620
However, another Golkar member made the criticism that it had been the feature
of the current F-TNI/POLRI members that they were less concerned about the
financial condition of the territorial command.621 His assessment of the FTNI/POLRI members was similar to what was mentioned by a Golkar respondent
elsewhere, in Batangan – they were busy about their individual interests; realizing
that they would not be in the DPRD after 2004 they were using the limited time as
effectively as possible to increase their individual economic benefits.622
As mentioned earlier, the increased amount of money allocated for security
services by the District Governments after 1998 was not comparable to the loss of
financial resources that the military units had been used to access in the New
Order era. When I asked some military commanders about the current budget
from their local Government, the answers suggested that the condition was much
worse than what was claimed by some F-TNI/POLRI members. In most Districts
the amount was not distributed directly to the security units, and some of this did
not reach the targets. The funds were kept by the District’s Bakesbang (Badan
Kesatuan Bangsa/Coordinating Body for National Unity), the division that replaced
the more political Kansospol in 2000, and were only distributed “little by little”
(kincrit-kincrit) to the units when they applied with proposals for financial
assistance.623 Also, some part of the security budget was kept by the Secretary of
619
Interview G5.
Interview M4, the Chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI of this District.
621
Interview G6.
622
Interview G77. The respondent was the Speaker of the Batangan District DPRD.
623
The Security sector was under the Bakesbang responsibility. The body has its own civilian security troops,
called Satpol PP, stationed at every Sub-district as well as at the District offices. The body coordinated security
fund assistance for the police and military. Interview M79, with a police officer who was the Chairman of the FTNI/POLRI of the District DPRD.
620
259
the DPRD in anticipation of the potential future need to help finance the daily
logistics of security troops deployed to deal with demonstrations.624
In the case of Mantingan for example, although the total security allocation in the
2003 District Government’s budget had been more than 3 billion rupiah, the
Military District Commander, in an interview on 1 September 2003, claimed that
the District Command had received security assistance of no more than 30 million
rupiah (about Aus$ 4,000) after forwarding three requests, each of less than 10
million. He did not even know that the budgeted figure for security was as large as
it was, because he had never been informed, either by the government or by the
local F-TNI/POLRI. On one hand, he did not either ask about it because he
realized that the local government was not responsible for budgeting for the
security forces. On the other hand, it was his view that the local Government
intentionally kept it secret to avoid unwanted proposals from the security units.625
A lack of communication with the F-TNI/POLRI members that had coloured the
relations between the military territorial commands and the, supposedly, military
representatives since 1998 seemed to have also caused this lack of information.
Suroso, the Secretary of the Mangliawan Government, pointed out that a special
budget for the military and police units cannot be allocated in a District
Government’s yearly budget because, according to the Decentralisation Laws No.
22 and 25/1999 about regional autonomy, they are not a part of the role and
function of a Pemda (Local Government). Only because the Pemda saw that the
security of the District was in the legally specified interests of the local government,
was the local Government willing to help financially support the local military and
police units. The funds for this were taken from the Regent’s Domestic
Operational Fund (Dana Rumah Tangga Bupati). Suroso refused to disclose the
exact figure to the public, and refused to tell it to me when I asked in the
interview.626 However, the Head of this Government’s Finance Sub-Division,
admitted that around 86 million rupiah a month (1.032 billion a year) was given to
the various KORAMIL (Sub-district Military Commands) and Polsek (Sub-district
624
In Mantingan, 200 million rupiah was kept by the DPRD, 950 million rupiah by the Government. Interview M4,
with the Chairman of the District’s F-TNI/POLRI.
625
Interview M18, with the Military District Commander of Mangliawan.
626
Interview B14, with the Secretary of the District Government.
260
Police units) for security assistance. Besides, he sent 1.5 million rupiah for each of
the top Commanders, and five hundred thousand per month for the Chiefs of Staff
Sections of the military and police units in the Mangliawan area, in the form of
operational funds for the local Muspida members.627
To sum up, the money received by the military territorial units since 1998 had
been drastically reduced. By 2003 the efforts by the F-TNI/POLRI in some
Districts to get financial assistance for the security forces were not always going
smoothly, however, because some DPRD members were opposed to the idea of
giving money to the local military/police units as they viewed the defence and
security sector as being not included among the decentralized sectors that had
become the newly legalised responsibility of local District Governments. Moreover,
even when it was agreed to allocate such funding in the local governments’
APBD, the distribution to the units was mostly not smooth either, mostly not
immediately and directly passed on. Instead, the money was kept under the
control of the government officials who would decide what would be passed on
and why, with any not spent in this way being retained in the government funds for
other purposes.
When, after the 2004 elections, there was to be no longer any F-TNI/POLRI in the
DPRD, extra funding for the military and police units would rely only on the civilian
DPRD politicians. As Lieutenant Colonel Asni A Rahman, the Chairman of the FTNI/POLRI in Sumenep, told me, the military and police Commanders would have
to build good relations with their local Government leaders, as well as with the
retired military officers joining parties, so that the units’ needs could be
accommodated in the Governments’ budget.628 However, this should not be
mistaken to mean that the military territorial units in the past were better
maintained because of lots of money flowing to the units. The fact was that for the
institutions themselves, the conditions were not much different. If the units
received much more money in the past, it did not go in significant amounts to the
interests of maintaining the units, but to support the political activities that the
627
628
Interview B13.
Interview with Lieutenant Colonel Asni A Rahman on 27 July 2003.
261
Commanders were required to carry out.629 Yet, although in terms of the
readiness of the military equipment the military capability in the New Order was no
better, the morale of the units (at least among their commanders) were higher
because they had sufficient ready-to-use money and held stronger political power
to more quickly organize, for instance, transport systems, communication
equipment and other logistic supports belonging to the (civilian) private companies
to support the inadequacies of the units’ own equipment had they been needed to
conduct security operations.
3. Koter: Discourse, reactions and soldiers’ perspectives
Despite the loss of much of the financial resources of the territorial units,
nevertheless, there was no indication that the existence of the military units was in
jeopardy, perhaps because most of the money received through the political
activities and networks previously was used for supporting the political activities
that were already abolished at the same time. The following sub-section discusses
the issue of abolition of the territorial structure.
3.1. Debating Koter abolition
As noted earlier in Chapter One, on one hand, scholars have observed that some
people since 1998 have begun to challenge the continuation of the territorial
concept characterizing the posture of Indonesian military. Having dis-assembled
the military political power in executive and legislative bodies, the challenge has
been now directed to Koter. Anti-Koter groups argued that the territorial structure
had undermined previous progress towards democratization, especially through
the military structure paralleling the government bureaucratic structure from the
provincial to the village level which had very effectively opened military access to
the local government authority and kept it interacting closely with the local civilian
political institutions.630 The proponents of the territorial system, especially the
629
See Chapter Three.
See for example, Rinakit, Sukardi., “Decentralization and the military”, in Erb, Maribeth; Sulistyanto,
Priyambudi; and Faucher, Carole, (ed.) Regionalism in Post-Suharto Indonesia, (New York: RoutledgeCurzon,
2005), p. 76.
630
262
military, argued that the current Koter was merely “a troop deployment” (gelar
pasukan), with nothing to do with the military’s intention to maintain political power;
on the contrary, the Koter had guarded the democratization process.631
The amended 1945 Constitution, the new Defence Law No. 3/ 2002 and the
Armed Forces Law No. 34/2004 have redefined the role of TNI as the state’s
defence which is to be executed based on the state’s policy.632 This redefinition
has been limited, nonetheless it was decided that, due to the nature of security
threats and the ability of the state to deal with them, the state defence system to
be used has remained the so-called Sishanrata (People’s Total Defence). This
inevitably requires, as described in Chapter Three, social and political interactions
of the military at every level of its institution from the preparation to the execution of
the defence system. The implication of Sihanrata is that the territorial command
structure is to be kept as the structure best facilitating the operation of Sishanrata.
Tracing back further, the doctrine is derived from the 1945 Constitution, Chapter
XII, Section 30 (1), that “All citizens have rights and responsibility to participate in
the country’s defence” and 30 (2) “The character of this defence will be arranged
according to the Laws”633. This is interpreted in the Defence Law as being the
Total Defence system, with all citizens required to be actively involved in its
implementation should the designated scenario occur, that is, a foreign military’s
occupation of Indonesian territory. However, it is actually a matter of interpretation,
whether or not the citizen’s right and responsibility in the defence system as stated
by the Constitution has to involve their direct participation (via conscription) in
military operations. Yet, the Defence Law interprets it as direct participation,
declaring that the military combat units are the main component, and the people
who are to be grouped in guerilla troops commanded by territorial commanders
are the supporting components of the total defense system. Preparing such
631
“Keberadaan Kowil mulai tingkat Kodam, Korem, Kodim dan Koramil merupakan bentuk gelar kekuatan TNI
AD, guna menyiapakan potensi wilayah dalam rangka penyelenggaraan tugas pokok TNI AD untuk pertahan
Darat” (The existence of Kowil from KODAM. KOREM, KODIM and KORAMIL is a form of troop deployment for
the purpose of preparing regional potentials for territorial defense). Taken from “Pokok – Pokok Penyelengaraan
Pembinaan Territorial TNI Angkatan Darat”, Markas Besar Angkatan Darat, Jakarta, 30 January 2003, p.4.
632
UU TNI. 34/ 2004, Chapter VI, Section 5.
633
Section 30 (1): “Tiap-tiap Warganegara berhak dan wajib ikut serta dalam usaha pembelaan Negara” (every
citizen posses right and is obliged to participate in the activity of state defense; Section 30 (2): “Syarat-syarat
tentang pembelaan diatur dangan Undang-undang” (Requirements for the participation must be in accordance
with the Laws).
263
supporting components thus becomes one of the tasks of the territorial
commands.
Moreover, in this system the man-power is only one element of territorial support,
beside the moral, intelligence and economic resources that would be devoted to a
perceived long-term struggle even if the civilian government had been destroyed,
as happened in the 1948/9 guerilla war at the end of the 1946-49 Independence
Struggle. In fact, the doctrine is to a great extent based on the 1945-1949 lessons
when the military and the people were fighting side-by-side against the Dutch
troops. There is no comparable or contradictory historical experience that
Indonesians have had since then. It has continued to be widely believed in the
Indonesian military that their strength depends on the support from the people.634
As noted in Chapters Two and Three, the military has since its beginnings claimed
that it is the people’s army, so it must not be separated from the people. “The
military is from the people, struggle for and with the people, and will come back to
the people”, the prevailing motto said. Salim Said argued that the Indonesian
military was “self created”, created neither by the government nor by the legislative
body. The Indonesian military was firstly created by “revolutionary youths”, thus
directly created by the people635, though in the years after that the development of
military institutions, including the recruitment of personnel and provision of material
equipment and training can be said to be also dependent on the government.
The doctrine of People’s Total Defence has been justified, not only by the legal
standing and historical experience, but also by the objective conditions of the
country’s economic capability. It was accepted that the government would not be
able to fund the entire provision of military equipment that would be needed for
pre-emptive actions to prevent the landing of a foreign country’s military forces in
Indonesian territory. It was also assumed that the government would not be able
to fund all long-term fighting within the territory. Therefore, all elements of the
society and all potencies of the territory, including private companies and
634
For example, when in July 2003, the Chief of Staff of the Indonesian Army, General Ryamizard Ryakudu
briefed the officers serving in East Java about Territorial Duties, he emphasized that the key to the successfulness
of Koter duties was by winning the support from the people. His paper was titled Garis Besar tentang Pembinaan
Territorial: Baik-baik saja dengan rakyat (Outlines of Territorial Guidance: Just be kind to the people).
635
See Chapter Three.
264
industries, would have to be maximized to support the struggles to defend the
country. Under a national military emergency, the military would take the
command of all these economic potencies. In peace time, the government does
not need to establish a big and strong military, but it is given access to identify all
potential resources, and keep in contact with them, directly or through the
government bureaucracies, so that the military can easily utilize them if perceived
military threats come. This kind of task is the responsibility of the territorial
commands.
So, the territorial structure is actually the operational implication of the People’s
Total Defense. Even if its structure were to be eliminated and replaced by an
alternative, it could be assumed that any replacing structure would require more or
less similar structure, roles and functions as long as the Total Defense concept
remains. An alternative defence system is not impossible, but the bottom line to
where it is possible to leave the Total Defence Concept is when the country’s preemptive capability can definitely ensure that no military forces of the enemy can
enter and remain in Indonesian territory, a capability that requires the superiority of
pre-emptive capability of military operations, which is out of reach of the
Indonesian economy. Yet, the three phases of the Total Defence System:
attacking in the enemy in its home base, on their way to as well as on their arrival
in the Indonesian territory, seems to be the only one applicable to successfully
responding to a non-nuclear equipped enemy. However, whether the defence
system would enable the country to defeat a likely attacker is debatable,
depending on the strength of the attacker country, but this defence system
facilitates the Indonesian military to carry out a prolonged guerilla war within the
Indonesian territory.636
3.2. Reactions of local military personnel
While much has been discussed about the doctrinal and political perspectives of
the military’s top leadership,637 little has been reported about how the lower level
636
For more information about this guerilla war, see Nasution, Abdul Haris., Fundamentals of Guerilla Warfare,
Singapore: Donal Moore Books, 1965.
637
See Chapter Three.
265
Koter personnel reacted to the demands to abolish their institutions, and about
their opinions about the internal problems and consequences should the abolition
occur.638 Military elites in Jakarta may be aware of political implications resulted
from either the abolition or the continued existence of the Koter, but most officers
and soldiers at the lower ranks seem to be concerned more about its practical
implications for impacts on their personal interests. This is not to suggest that the
local military’s reactions are more important than the other military perspectives,
neither is it to suggest that members of the military elites at the centre have no
personal interests, nor is it to say that there had been steps or actions by the local
military personnel in efforts to influence any decisions regarding the future of the
Koter. However, it is quite logical to expect that the perceptions of the military elites
are influenced also by their understandings about what impacts the positions they
take will possibly have at local, operational levels.
One military respondent from a non-Koter combat unit – asked about how the
officers at his unit reacted when they heard the news from TV that Maj. Gen. Agus
Wirahadikusuma had launched an idea of abolishing the Koter – said, “variously”
(beda-beda) but many of them “grumbled” (menggerutu), in such terms as “no
wonder he talked that way because he had got his turn to enjoy service in Koter,
and being Pangdam”, “what about us?” (that is, the junior officers who had not yet
‘got their turn’).639 When I asked what he thought about it, the respondent said that
Agus Wirahadikusuma “just tried to make a sensation to get popularity and
sympathy from reformist groups”. Another respondent said, “well ... he knows
what he says…we’re only crocho (really nobodies), so maybe he is right. … For
638
Earlier surveys in 1999 and 2000 in some selected area suggest that the local people disagree with the idea of
abolishing the Koter. See Marcus Mieztner, “The Armed Forces and Local Politics in the Post-Soeharto Era”, in
Aspinall and Fealey (eds.) Indonesian Update 2002, (Singapore: ISEAS, 2003).
639
“…Enak aja beliau ngomong begitu, mentang-mentang dia sudah dapat giliran menikmati dinas di Ter, trus
jadi Pangdam…”. What the respondent means was that, by proposing the abolition of the Koter, Agus
Wirahadikusuma was selfish, because he does not care about those who had not got chances to have a position
in the Koter like him. Interview M126. There was an increased debate within the TNI’s generals about how or how
far of the military reform would have be done. See for example a collection of views of those labeled as reformist
generals in the Wirahadikusumah, Agus et al (eds.), Indonesia Baru dan Tantangan TNI: Pemikiran Masa Depan
[New Indonesia and TNI’s Challenge: the Future Thought] (Jakarta: Pustaka Sinar Harapan, 1999). See also an
analysis by Salim Said about those views in Chapter Four, “Dari Empat Paradigma Baru ke Rapim Tahun 2000”
[From Four New Paradigms to the 2000 Leaders’ Meeting] in Said, Salim., Tumbuh dan Tumbangnya Dwifungsi:
Perkembangan Pemikiran Politik Militer 1958 – 2000 [The Growth and the Fall of Dual Function: the
Development of Thought of Military Politics 1958 – 2000]., (Jakrata: Aksara Karunia, 2002), pp. 169-203.
266
us what is important is that as long as it can improve the living conditions of the
soldiers, that’s OK”.640
It was very rare that I found respondents gave their views based on the old or the
new doctrine or based on the institutional interests. Most were based on their
personal interests, even when the question was directed to the doctrinal (political)
or institutional (such as the professionalism issue). For example, when asked what
the respondent thought about the effect of the abolition on professionalism, he
answered, “It sounds good to concentrate on professionalism, but how would the
soldiers concentrate on professionalism if they always think about how to get the
rice that their family can cook for tomorrow?”641 He also said that the
Commanders could not merely think about professionalism, they have to fulfill their
responsibility “to ensure the soldiers’ welfare” (memenuhi kesejahteraan
anggotanya). Yet, he said, “because they can not give money, they have to let the
soldiers have the time to conduct their business.” This what the soldiers commonly
call “wise commanders”, he said. Otherwise, if the commanders do not
understand this problem, they will “be farted and peed on (be ignored) by the
soldiers”.642 When I asked about how the reformasi had affected this practice, he
said, “the reformasi has changed nothing, but made it worse as economic
pressures have been stronger.” What all the respondents above were saying was
that they see the Koter as a better place, compared to non-territorial units, to
improve their living standard. The information from the latter respondent also
implied that, even if the Koter were abolished, but without improving the economic
life (salary) of the soldiers, it would not improve the professional standards of the
military.
From several interviews it can be said that in general the reactions of the local
officers and soldiers to the idea of abolishing the Koter were more resistant than
supportive, and the reasons for the resistance were very much personal,
regardless of their political views. As it is so personal, it is sensibly understandable
that the resistance had not been expressed openly, in addition to the very top-
640
Interview M113.
Interview M146. The respondent was a Battalion Commander.
642
The expression used was “ dikentuti atau dikencingi sama anggotanya”.
641
267
down nature of the military organization also hindering this expression from
coming out. For the soldiers the abolition would directly affect their daily lives, while
for the officers, although they were not always directly affected, their views and
understanding about how it would affect their soldiers were also important in
shaping their points of view, regardless of these views appeared in rhetorical
statements. The soldiers’ resistance will be better understood when we grasp
what the Koter means for the soldiers, and how much the political changes,
including the loss of financial resources mentioned earlier, have affected their view
about Koter. The following describes this.
3.3. What does the Koter mean for the soldiers?643
3.3.1. A preferred appointment
Being placed in territorial rather than central units was favoured by most personnel
of the Indonesian Army. Economic interest seems to have been the most
common reason. In common with Indonesian government civil servants, solders’
formal salaries have been always very small.644 For the soldiers, being positioned
in a territorial unit could mean having much time and more opportunities for getting
involved in social interactions and business activities, thus, having more chances
to make money to compensate for the small formal salary. Especially for rank and
file soldiers, moving to territorial units was seen as a crucial step in preparing for
retirement. For career officers the money meant not only an improvement to their
standard of living, but also a vital support for promotion to higher positions.
Normally, young officers and young soldiers started their military service in combat
units in Battalions or Brigades, or (non-territorial) administration offices, of the
Indonesian Army. In the early years of service, they still felt excited with the
success of passing the recruiting process or initial training. The patriotic doctrines,
pride and prestige of being a soldier or an officer, as compared to their friends who
643
The following description is constructed from several interviews with military respondents who served both in
Koter and non-Koter units. This description refers to conditions both pre- and after 1998, that have not changed
significantly. Interviews M92, M122, M112, M113.
644
Data from a regular unit suggests that a new private has a salary of around 700,000 rupiah (about Aus$ 100)
monthly. The lowest standard of a regional wage was 400,000 (Blitar Regency), that means the soldiers receive
better pay, therefore, the jobs as soldiers are still favoured by many youths.
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did not succeed, overwhelmed the small salaries they received. However,
especially for the lower rank soldiers, it did not take long before they got to a stage
of being sick and tired of monotony and having a heavily burdened economic life
which serving in the military offered very little, if not no, chance to escape.645
Many respondent officers also said that that most of those who breached
discipline were those who had economic problems. Specifically, they said, most of
those personnel had their salaries in deficit every month, a situation which Indria
Samego has termed a “gali lobang tutup lobang” or unescapable debt-trap.646
Here is the pattern. At the beginning of his service, the monthly salary of a single
soldier or officer was enough for only two or three weeks. If they got married or
had children, the salary was only enough for two weeks or less. For the rest of the
month they would take loans in the form of groceries from the grocery koperasi,
which then billed their debts to the accountant’s office (jurubayar) every month.
Consequently, each month the salaries became smaller and smaller, then minus;
while the debts became bigger and bigger, going beyond the rates of their
salaries. The only way for them to solve this problem would be to get additional
income outside working hours. Some of them ended up being Satpam (private
security) at entertainment centres or shopping centres, being private parking
attendants, brokers (makelar) for vehicles or properties, backing gamblers or
prostitution, or even involved in crimes when they found no other ways.
The problem with serving in the combat units was that they did not provide
enough time to leave the base. Therefore, moving to a territorial unit, where
there was no restriction to go out or in fact there was no base, was regarded
as a way of having a chance to attain a better economic life.
3.3.2. Meaningless professionalism
There are also other reasons why many preferred serving in territorial units,
including because they were not interested in military professionalism because
they considered it to be “pretend, or pseudo, professionalism” (professionalisme
645
See the interview with Indera Samego, an Indonesian military researcher, in “Di Wilayah Pelosok, Koter
Sangat Besar Fungsinya”, Forum Keadilan, No. 26, 23 October 2005, p.60.
646
Interviews M112, M92, M122.
269
pura-pura). To understand the professional aspect of the military professionalism
at the field level, it is essential to see what activities soldiers do in a combat unit.
An officer said that,
in a combat unit the soldiers have to be made busy inside the base, and
should not be left to do day-dreaming. The busier the soldiers, the more
tired they will be in the night, the less desire to go outside, the less
chance to interact with outsiders, and the less chance to commit
indiscipline or even crime outside. A low crime rate means good credit
for the unit and for the commander.647
Another officer said, at the combat units they serve full time, mostly overworked
though underpaid, under-appreciated as individuals and with less time and
freedom for private needs. According to respondents, there were two kinds of
programs that made them busy in combat units. One was a set of training
programs related to technicalities of the military profession and scheduled by the
central headquarters. These were usually elaborated into more detail in lowerlevel units to be monthly, weekly and daily programs. The other was extracurricular program, such as sports, ceremonial activities, or cleaning or gardening
activities (most units did not employ professional cleaners or gardeners, so the
soldiers did this work).
The standards of training in combat units under the regional or territorial
Balahanwil (Regional Troops) were generally lower than in those belonging to the
central Balahanpus (Central Troops) commands. One reason, as some
respondents said, was because there were so many non-program activities that
they did not have time for training. These activities included civic actions, AMD
(ABRI Masuk Desa, Soldiers Entering the Village)648, ceremonies of units’
anniversaries (common for the level of Battalion upward), or security operations to
back up police, ranging from at national or local elections to soccer competitions to
entertainment concerts. Soldiers liked these activities more than training because
they usually got food allowances (uang makan) and the work was much more
relaxed. According to respondents, although generally better than Balahanwil’s
units, conditions among different combat units of Balahanpus were also different.
647
648
Interview M122.
After ABRI was renamed TNI, this program became TMD.
270
Light Armed Infantry units usually had better training conditions. Non-infantry units
like Armour or Artillery had lower standards of training mainly because of the
limitations in weaponry equipment, either being too old or too few in numbers.
Generally, all combat units shared the same problem, that due to the budget
constraints the quality of the training was less important than the quantity of it. As
such, the training was mainly used to satisfy the demand for periodical reports or
to safeguard the reputations of the units and the commanders. The supervisors
usually understood the problems and tolerated the low quality, especially if the
pocket money (sangu) or service (pelayanan) from the inspected units was good
enough. Most personnel knew the game and were compelled to play it properly.
Creating fictive programs to save the money for something other than what it was
had been prescribed for was not uncommon. Or, if the training had to be done,
then it would have to be undertaken as economically and simply as possible. As
such, low rank officers were motivated to search for “rekanan” or partners for
funding their units’ programs. Good relations with the personnel of territorial units
in the vicinity of the central unit’s base would be very useful. Normally, such
contacts were made through intelligence staff of the battalions whose tasks
required intensive contacts and interactions with territorial units.
According to respondents, the majority of the soldiers knew that training was
meant to be slightly more than just a drama to justify periodical reports. However,
they also understood that they did not have a right to speak out or to complain,
and that they all had to play the pretences appropriately to protect their units,
themselves and their commanders. Moving to territorial units therefore meant
escaping from all these pretences. In contrast, here was less time for training
activities, less demands for (fake) professional capability, and less isolation from
society. So, there would be many chances to improve their economic life.
3.3.3. Struggles to move
Normally, to move to territorial units, rank and file soldiers (especially private and
corporal ranks) would have to wait until they had only ten or less years left before
retirement (forty-eight years old), or they had a Doctor’s Certificate (Keterangan
271
A3) that stated that they were physically not eligible (too unhealthy) to be in the
combat units. Alternatively, they could move five or ten years earlier if they were
promoted to be Territorial Sergeants after passing a Territorial Warrant Officer
School (Secabater/Sekolah Calon Bintara Teritorial). However, this was not an
easy way. Objective assessments for student recruitment hardly existed. Most
candidates could only succeed after three or more tries and after spending lots of
money for paying “smoothers, bribes” (pelicin). Some of them had to sell their
motor cycles, parents’ properties or whatever could be changed into money to pay
these pelicin.
Yet, even passing the Secabater did not necessarily mean that they would be
automatically appointed to the territorial structure. Further lobbying, money and
connections (kasak-kusuk) determined most of when and where they would go.
Without these factors they could spend several more years in their present units,
or even spend all of their remaining service years as sergeants in their battalions.
Those privates or corporals who did not pass the Secabater would face more
difficult ways. Without money and connections to get the Doctor’s Certificate for
example, it would be very difficult to move to territorial units.
Unless they are working at “lucrative” (basah) positions – such as cashiers
(jurubayar) who could build relations with bank staff to get easy loans, or logistic
staff who worked on selling and buying materials – they could spend the rest of
the service there. As such, they would not be prepared to enter retirement, have
no house to stay in and no post-service job to earn money for their family apart
from a small retirement compensation. Some commanders were inclined to let
retired personnel stay for several months or years in the base housing, but when
newly recruited soldiers arrived and needed the accommodation, they would have
to go. Therefore, some of the soldiers were ready to sell any land, animal or
vehicle they owned to pay the “pelicin” to move to territorial units.
All sacrifices made to move to the territorial units influenced their working
performance once they were posted. One familiar target would be how they could
get the money they had spent back in one way or another. It was well known
among the soldiers that the success of the territorial members was measured by
272
their capability in “ngeter” (making money through social or business interactions).
If a soldier, for example, came by or visited a friend who was a territorial member,
his “ngeter” level was shown by “services” to complement the guest, mainly in
satisfying entertainment or the amount of “sangu” (money given to the guest at the
end of the visit). It would be much better if he could show the guest that all the
money he devoted to these “services” did not come from his own pocket, but from
those of his “rekanan” (mainly Chinese businessmen).
For rank and file soldiers, most positions in territorial commands were more
interesting in terms of their own welfare than were those in fighting units. The less
busy the position, the more free time it would give, the more attractive it would be.
Yet, the most favourite position was “Babinsa” (Village Development Sergeant).
Mainly responsible for the guidance of defence and security while at the same
time becoming the “ears and eyes” of the military, one Babinsa normally covered
one village, but in less populated rural areas one could cover three or more
villages. Structurally, Babinsa was the lowest position in the territorial hierarchy,
and formally under the authority and supervision of a Sub-district Military
Commander (a Captain). Yet, being the only member of the military in the villages
which were distant from the Commander’s base, the existence of a Babinsa
appeared very independent. Usually Babinsa were “treated as one with a higher
social status” (dituakan) by the village people, similar to and even sometimes
higher than the village’s leader.
3.3.4. The Koter as a personnel disposal system
If there is a single way to compare the Koter’s soldiers and the combat units’
soldiers it is by defining the former as “invalid” soldiers, while the later were “fresh”
soldiers. According to a chief of the personnel staff at one combat unit, all soldiers
who were above thirty five years old (retirement had been at forty eight, until in
2004 it was amended to fifty three) or had physical (health) problems (Status A3)
must be proposed to the superior commands to be moved to territorial units.649
This was one way to keep up the readiness of the personnel of the combat units
649
Although, as discussed above this was not easy but they had to compete using whatever means they had
since the number of those personnel categorized as invalid was far bigger than the Koter could accept. Besides,
the ability of the superior command to supply new soldiers to replace them was also limited.
273
by prioritizing those who were young, single and had fewer economic pressures
than those who were older and married. The implication of this for the Koter was
that most soldiers in it were officially invalid soldiers. Instead of ending their military
service they were simply disposed of to the Koter.
Serving in the territorial units made their physical and discipline conditions even
worse as control from the Koter units was far less rigid than in the combat units.
They grew longer hair, dressed less neatly, paid less respect to their superiors, or
became more likely to argue against or be disloyal to them. They interacted with
civilians more intensively than with soldier comrades or superior officers. For those
who are in the positions of Babinsa in remote villages, contacts with superiors
were usually done through phone or radio communication if they had one. They
were more able to communicate with local people as well as building business
partnerships with them. One Babinsa suggested to me that he could stay in his
position much longer than his friend had because he helped his Sub-district
Commander to start a chicken farm business (ternak ayam) in his village.
All the conditions about service in the Koter that has been just described – the
image that Koter as easy money-making jobs for the army personnel, and that
Koter was to escape professionalism and the place for disposed, unprofessional
personnel, were long-standing and had not changed by 2003 when this study took
place, except, importantly, for the officers, who by then had already lost their
opportunities to use the positions in the Koter as corner stones for the political
jobs, and who had already lost wider chances to maximize economic benefits
from the political connections involved in being Koter officers.650
4. Separation of the military from the police
Democratization requires that the military not only be separated from political
institutions (as Chapter Six has shown this has been happening rapidly and
successfully), but also be given a clearly defined role so that any potential for
future military political involvement can be minimized. For Indonesia, theoretically,
650
For information about what service in the Koter meant for the officers in the New Order era, see Chapter
Three.
274
this means a reversal of the previous role of the New Order’s military from its Dual
Function “new professionalism” that embraced social, political and defence and
security roles to an “old professionalism” that limits its role to defence matters
only.651
As a part of the post-1998 military reform there was an organizational separation
of the police from the military, and consequently, the military role was, in principle,
limited to mainly a defence role, while domestic security was intended to have
become solely the function of the police. Yet, due to the high challenge of internal
security and the weakness of the police, a military back-up was still needed but,
nonetheless, even with this back-up the security conditions overall became far
worse than under the New Order regime. Similarly, the effectiveness of the
military’s defence role, as reflected in the case of local military units, seemed to
have also declined. Indeed, the local realities show that the security sector has
seen the least significant achievements resulting from the military reform. Although
the reformasi has to some extent made it possible for Indonesia to redefine the
military’s professional role in a way that is compatible with democracy, it has not
so far been able to fully implement it. This section discusses the problems of
military-police separation and the issues of the military professional role at the
local level.
4.1. A compelling situation for a military back-up
During the New Order Indonesia’s military and police force were both organized
within ABRI, the Republic of Indonesia’s Armed Forces. From April 1999, the
Republic of Indonesia’s National Police (POLRI) was symbolically separated from
ABRI, which had its name changed to TNI, the Indonesian National Army. On 1
July 2000, POLRI was further separated from or taken out of the Defence
Department and placed directly under the President.652 Law No. 2/2002 defines
the POLRI’s roles as enforcing Public Security and Order (Kamtibmas/Keamanan
dan Ketertiban Masyarakat), Law Enforcement (Penegak Hukum), Protector,
651
See the theoretical discussion in Chapter Two.
This decision was formalized by the Presidential Decree No. 89/2000 and the People’s Consultative Assembly
(MPR) Decree No. VI/MPR/2000 that defines the role of the TNI and POLRI.
652
275
Guardian, and Servant of the Public (Pelindung, Pengayom dan Pelayan
Masyarakat). The rhetorical reason behind the separation has been mainly to
improve the protection of Human Rights, to establish effective, strong civilian (nonmilitaristic) Police Forces but, politically, also to minimize the involvement of the
military in domestic security which is closely connected to political matters.653 At
least initially this separation was not generally believed to benefit policing. On 3
July 2000 Tempo Interactive reported a special poll indicating that seventy seven
percent of the public asked did not trust the police, and seventy percent said they
did not believe that the separation would improve police performance.654
My interviews in East Java in 2003, as shown below, indicated that the public trust
toward police has not improved significantly since then. One of the key problems
that had made the domestic security condition worse has been that the
government had not been able to provide an effective police force to fully take
over the domestic security role that used to be handled by the military-police joint
forces, the ABRI. The limited number of personnel and the low quality of the
professionalism of the police force has been frequently stated by observers as the
main obstacle. Nationally, in 1998 the ratio of police to the population was 1:1032.
In 2003 the average ratio across East Java was about 1:1183 but much higher in
some Districts.655 According to a senior police officer, a theoretically ideal ratio
would be 1:500656. Corresponding to the Babinsa of the TNI at village level, there
is a police position, called a Balinmas (Bintara Pelindung Masyarakat)/Village
NCO-Police. Ideally one Balinmas is responsible for one village, but in reality, such
as in Malang Regency, one is responsible for four to seven villages. I found that
there were some villages in this Regency that had no Balinmas, but the job was
653
See for example a statement from President Abdurrahman Wahid that “dengan terpisahnya kepolisian dari
TNI dan Dephan, maka tradisi militeristik yang selama ini melekat pada Polri harus dihilangkan” (with the
separation of the police from TNI and Defense Department, militaristic traditions must be eliminated). “Masyarakat
Tak Percaya Polisi” (Public Do Not Trust Police), Tempo Interactive, 3-7-2000, accessed on 5 October 2003 from
http://www.tempointeraktif.com/harian/fokus/29/2,1,5,id.htm
654
“Masyarakat Tak Percaya Polisi” (Public Do Not Trust Police), Tempo Interactive, 3-7-2000, accessed on 5
October 2003 from http://www.tempointeraktif.com/harian/fokus/29/2,1,5,id.htm.
655
Data from Litbang Kompas in Tempo Interactive, accessed on 25 October 2003 from
http://www.tempointeraktif.com/harian/fokus/29/2,1,3,id.html. See also “Jenderal Polri Surplus, Pangkat
Rendahan Minus” (Police General Surplus, Lower Ranks Minus), accessed on 10 January 2006 from the
POLRI’s website:
http://www.polri.go.id/berita/detailnews.php?id=ab06596089cdbedb218613d7ff905267. According to data from
the Polda/Polisi Daerah (Regional Police) of East Java, the number of police in East Java in 2003 was around
thirty thousand compared to the Province’s total population of around thirty five million. There were significant
variations between Districts, For example, in the City of Malang, according to its District Police (Polres), the
number of police personnel was around 600 while the population almost one million, a ratio of about 1:1666.
656
Interview with, Superintendent Iwan Sumanto the Chief of Police Personnel Staff of Polres Malang on 25-062003.
276
covered by an active-duty NCO-Policeman being the Village Head. So, one
individual had to act as a Village Head,657 and at the same time as the Balinmas
for several neighbouring villages.
When I asked one of these how he managed his time, he said that much of his
responsibility as Balinmas, such as routine patrolling,or attending villages’ social
events that require security guards, were shared with the Babinsa, and his reports
to the District Police Chief were mostly based on the information from the Babinsa.
He said, “This is just too much responsibility, but I have no choice, except to follow
the instruction”. Yet, when I asked why he chose to become the Village Head, he
gave several reasons, including that he was born in this village. He included two
interesting reasons. One was that “because unlike the military [all military
candidates have to quit their service before participating in the Village Head
election] the police can keep their status as police while being the Village Heads,
for the reason that the police have been considered as civilians”. Another was that
“instead of collecting bribes on the road from the drivers I prefer being a Village
Head” [the traffic police/Polantas (Polisi Lalulintas) are notorious for their corrupt
attitudes, taking bribes from the drivers who breach, or are claimed to have
breached, the law]. “Here, as the Village Head I receive an income more than my
salary as a policeman”, he said proudly.658 It would be interesting to explore the
phenomena of this police-Village Head double job, but the focus of this study was
not on this direction. But what is important from his revelation is that the police
themselves realize how corrupt is the image of the police.659
Indeed, the low quality of the police performance is also influenced by its
professional outlook. Observers have suggested that the police who, in the New
Order era, used to apply a military-style repressive approach, emphasizing
“security” more than “service”, have not yet been able to reverse that emphasis.660
Analysts have suggested the importance for the police to focus on cultural
657
Unless mentioned otherwise, all names of individuals and places have been changed.
Interview V21.
659
See also for example, “Polisi Kita Masih Buruk Rupa” (Our Police Still Has Ugly Face), Tempo Interactive, 1-72000, accessed on 5 October 2003 from http://www.tempointeraktif.com/harian/fokus/29/2,1,2,id.html; and
“Masyarakat Tak Percaya Polisi” (Public Do Not Trust Police), Tempo Interactive, 3-7-2000, accessed on 5
October 2003 from http://www.tempointeraktif.com/harian/fokus/29/2,1,5,id.htm.
660
See “Polisi Kita Masih Buruk Rupa” (Our Police Still Has Ugly Face), Op cit.
http://www.tempointeraktif.com/harian/fokus/29/2,1,2,id.html.
658
277
changes in its operational methods to adapt to a more friendly outlook, and leave
its military style.661 However, one police officer claimed that the efforts to create “a
friendly-outlook police” had been hampered by two things: one was the reformasi
“freedom euphoria” that made people more ready to break the law, and the other
one was the collapse of the intelligence networks that used to be operated in the
New Order era. The first, he said, requires the police to be tougher, rather than,
softer against the criminals; and the second has forced the police to rely more on
repressive than the weak preventive measures.662 Nevertheless, the police
performance also was also influenced by the low credibility of the police personnel
in terms of their personal integrity, which was graded by the public as far below
that of the military.
When I asked several Village Heads to compare the Balinmas (police) and
Babinsa (military), they said that the village people preferred to look to the Babinsa
for help more than to the Balinmas.663 One Village Head said that there was a
common joke about police, “If you report you have lost your motorcycle and ask
for help to the police, you will lose your car”, implying that once you ask police for
help, you will have to pay a large amount of money otherwise you will be ignored,
and with no guaranteed result. Besides, he said, in responding to security
problems, the police would usually only come after a crime had happened, while
the Babinsa was always interacting with the people’s life and providing a
preventive effect against crime.664 One Bupati responded when I asked the same
question by saying, “My people have been accustomed to obeying the soldiers,
while disrespecting the police”.665 In his Regency, there are reoccurring conflicts
every year among various clubs of traditional martial arts clubs (pencak silat),
which the Bupati claimed exemplified an event in which only the military could
effectively handle the insecurity situation its created.
661
See for example, “Polisi Harus Hindarkan Militerisme” (Police Must Avoid Militarism). Tempo Interactive, 1-72000, 18:38, accessed on 5 October 2003 from http://www.tempointeraktif.com/harian/fokus/29/2,1,1,id.html.
662
Interview with Superintendent Iwan Sumanto the Chief of Police Personnel Staff of Polres Malang on 25-062003.
663
Interview V21. In some way I felt that the respondent was trying to please me (as a military officer) with his
answer to give credit to Babinsa, but I think this should be also interpreted as he undermined the police, and this
undermining of the police seemed common among the civilian respondents.
664
See Footnote 2.
665
Interview with Bupati of Madiun, Djunaedi Mahendra, in March 2003. In October 2004 the clash reoccurred
and hundreds of military and police were deployed to stop it. See for example, “Ratusan aparat dikerahkan: Taur
Kelompok Pencak Silat Terulang” (Hundreds of security forces were deployed: the Pencak Silat Clash
reoccurred), Jawapos, 12 October 2004.
278
An important indication from this is that the situation, both the weakness of the
police and the weakness of civil society, had forced the military to continue
backing-up the police to ensure the security. It seems that the timing to separate
the military and the police was just not suitable. The policy was implemented when
the security challenge was at the peak, while the government ability to build a
strong and effective police was at the lowest point. The compromise was then
needed, that the police were to be backed-up by the military. However, the
implementation was poorly designed, confusing both the military and the police.
4.2. Ineffectiveness of the military back-up and uneasy relations
In fact, unclear procedures of backing-up at the operational level created problems
of their own and contributed significantly to the lack of success in improving the
security conditions. One military respondent explained that in 1999 when
demonstrations and riots spread everywhere the troops could not be deployed
because it was unclear who would be responsible for the deployments.666 The
respondent explained the situation in the following way.
In the New Order era, when a troop deployment was needed in a District, to
handle a demonstration for instance, the Dandim (District Military Commander)
could quickly coordinate the military units and police in the District, although this
was not always the case in 1998/1999. Moreover, financial matters were not
questioned, because the Dandim could provide logistic support, such as
reimbursements for petrol for the vehicles that the units used, food allowances for
the troops, and even some sorts of pocket money for the soldiers involved in the
operations, as well as incentives for private intelligence agents. This was because
the Dandim would have had lots of unofficial sources, mainly through channels to
local businessmen or provided by the District Head of Government who was also
a military officer. The Dandim was demanded by the Headquarters to be able to
carry out his job properly even without official logistic support, and this was
666
Interview M92. The respondent was a Military District Commander in East Java.
279
possible given the greater financial autonomy that a territorial commander had
then.
After the military-police separation, he said, both the procedures for asking for the
military troops and the need to arrange logistic supports had to pass up and down
longer bureaucratic ladders. When a District Police Chief (Kapolres Kepala Polisi
Resor) needed a troop back-up, he could no longer ask directly to the units in the
District, but he had to send the enquiry to the Provincial Police Chief
(Kapolda/Kepala Polisi Daerah), then the Kapolda passed the enquiry to the
Provincial Military Commander (Pangdam/Panglima Daerah Militer) who would
gave the instructions to the units in the District. Yet, the respondent said, in reality it
was more complicated than that, because sometimes the officers in the KODAM
said that there had to be an approval from the Headquarters in Jakarta as well.
So, if in the New Order era, a Dandim could deploy the troops within minutes, after
the military-police separation it could take hours, days, or no deployment at all.
Then there were questions of who would be responsible for providing the logistics
for the operations. On one hand, the District Government was responsible for
providing financial assistance for the security operations in its local area, but it was
unclear which operations, on what scale, and in what amount. Moreover, on the
other hand, the security forces, military or police, were centralized forces, thus
were the responsibility of the national government. After several experiences of
military units not getting reimbursements after back-up operations, when they
were asked to back-up again they responded with various excuses for not being
ready for deployments, such as having training programs or other activities. Then,
to find which another available unit would take time.
A police respondent explained his experience in dealing with asking for military
troop back-up, saying that, once he had received responses from the military that
the police were “cengeng” (a word used for a child who cried too easily) and “too
dependent” when the jobs are not exciting or not lucrative but not wanting to share
lucrative jobs. He said, “when asking the military units to help to provide soldiers
for guarding such as exhibitions or music such as concerts/dangdut [traditional
music], it was much easier, as they do not care about the procedures, but when
280
asked to control demonstrations, they talked about the procedures”.667 So, even if
a clear procedure could solve the problems, this police informant suggests that it
would not always be followed. In some cases, procedures were also applied
selectively, especially following practical considerations, such as about the scale of
operation or the lucrative character of the job.
Some advocates of the separation believed that it would make the police more
independent when dealing with crimes involving the military. However, the
following information from another police respondent indicated otherwise.
This respondent said that the amount of crime involving the military personnel
could be minimized during the New Order regime as all intelligence elements,
including those of territorial units, combat units, police, as well as private (unofficial)
informants had been integrated. However, the crime rate had increased due to the
factors of economic crisis as well as the separation of the police and the military.
This had ruined the existing intelligence networks because the intelligence
agencies now worked separately and were less coordinated. In addition, the
unofficial informants had run away.668 A Military Policeman who dealt with the
military personnel involved in crimes suggested that there were at least one or two
personnel from each of the dozens of military units in East Java identified as being
involved in vehicle thefts every year, either as the direct actors or as the buyers of
the stolen vehicles. One of the common crimes involving the military and police
personnel at the rank and file level has been “curanmor” (pencurian kendaraan
bermotor/motor vehicle theft), known in the East Java Province as “alap–alap” (the
name of a black, aggressive bird).669
Another police officer said that the most difficult case in this category was to deal
with motor cycle thieves, because their network involved many specialists, from
locksmiths, used spare part traders, parking attendants, and oknum (rough)
military and police personnel.670 In Malang City for example, it was publicly known
that in the Pasar Comboran (one among several similar used spare part markets),
667
See footnote 1.
Interview P126.
669
Interview P130.
670
Interview P143.
668
281
the traders sell spare parts resulting from disassembled, stolen motor cycles.
Hundreds of traders in this market survive because of cheap supplies, and are
visited by many customers every day because of the cheaper prices compared to
those offered by the legal dealers. So, some members of the community shared
their roles as well. The officer explained that, once a motorcycle was stolen, in less
than a day the spare parts would have spread to several traders, even been sold,
which is why it was difficult to detect. When vehicles, mainly cars, were not
disassembled some police personnel were involved in producing illegal certificates
for the cars after making some modification to the cars’ bodies and moving them
to different cities. In such situation, non-criminal police could not do their jobs
properly without reliable intelligence networks. He estimated that less than five
percent of the vehicles that were stolen each year could be returned to their
owners.
Some NGO activists in Madiun expressed their pessimism about the
improvement of law enforcement brought about by the separation because the
basic problems of the law apparatus lay in its morality, for example, many
personnel of both the military and the police being involved in illegal businesses.
These activists claimed that, locally, some police members were involved in drug
trading (mainly ecstasy and putaw) while some Military Police were involved in
illegal logging.671 None of the activists knew how these were organized, but they
could identify that these groups of criminal activities really existed. They believed
that these personnel were not alone, but were protected by the higher rank officers
who they were working for. This information is in line with the report by Tempo
Interactive mentioned earlier. So there were two additional difficulties for the police
to stop the illegal businesses; first, that the police members themselves were not
clean, and second, a high level of conspiracy between individual police and
military personnel was still too strong to break.
On another side of the military-police relations, tension between the military and
police also created another problem. One iceberg tip of the more subtle tensions
surfaced on 16 September 2001 in Madiun, where around three hundred troops
from Kostrad’s Infantry Battalion 501 attacked police posts. Local media
671
Interview N.158, N159, N160.
282
reported672 that according to an official report from East Java Polda Headquarters,
at 11 pm, Saturday 16 September 2001, there was a misunderstanding between
military and police personnel when they were in a queue at a petrol station, after
which a soldier was accidentally shot in the leg. This incident was responded to by
the Battalion 501 members by a retaliatory attack just after midnight on Sunday.
As the result of the attack five posts and several offices of the Polres Madiun
(Madiun Resort Police) were ruined, several police vehicles were pushed into the
river, sixteen police personnel were wounded, and two civilians who were nearby
were accidentally shot to death.
By late 2002 there had been several other military-police clashes reported across
Indonesia but this was the only one that had occurred in East Java, most had
been in the more restless regions.673 Several hypotheses were proposed to
explain why these clashes had happened. The Commander in Chief of the Armed
Forces, General E. H. Sutarto told the press that the clashes were caused by “too
much solidarity” (jiwa korps yang berlebihana) among the soldiers.674 Some
military personnel I discussed this with regarded the police as having become
arrogant in carrying out their jobs since the separation,675 whereas a police
respondent suggested that military personnel have not understood the new
position of the police that could no longer protect the military as in the past.676
Whatever the causes have been,677 the cases show that the effectiveness of the
internal control within both institutions had weakened. More importantly, the
672
See for example, “Oknum Polisi-TNI Bentrok, Madiun Geger: Dua Warga Sipil Tewas, Belasan Orang Luka”
(Rough Police-TNI Clashed, Madiun shocked: Two civilian dead, tens wounded), Suara Merdeka 17 September
2001.
673
The national Indonesian newspaper, Pikiran Rakyat on 2 October 2002 reported that, up to 2002, there have
been twelve accidents. These were: 1) 24 January 2001: Clash between TNI (Combined Battalions) against
Brimob (Police Mobile Brigade) in Ambon, 1 soldier dead; 2) 27 February 2001: TNI-Brimob clash in Sampil Port,
Central Kalimantan, 3 civilians dead; 3) 3 March 2001: TNI-Police clash in the village of Latta Sirimau Ko, Ambon,
1 policeman dead; 4) 21 April 2001: TNI-Police clash in Payosigadung Kotabaru-Jambi, 1 soldier dead; 5) 2 May
2001: TNI-Police clash in West Aceh, 1 policeman dead; 6) 28 August 2001: TNI (Battalion 611)-Brimob Police
clash in Serui Irian Jaya, 2 soldiers dead; 7) 2 September 2001: TNI-Police clash in Palu, Central Sulawesi, 1
soldier dead; 8) 16 September 2001: TNI (Battalion 501)-Police in Madiun, 2 civilians dead; 9) 27 December
2001: TNI (Battalion 408)-Brimob Police clash in Ambon, 3 wounded; 10) 14 May 2002: TNI (Kopassus)-Brimob
Police clash in Kudamati, Ambon; 2 soldiers and 2 policemen wounded; 11) 12 August 2002: TNI AD (Battalion
Bekang)-Brimob Police clash in Bogor; 1 policeman dead, 3 others wounded; 12) 19 August 2002: TNI (KODIM)Police clash in Flores, East Nusa Tenggara, 7 policemen and 2 soldiers wounded. See “KSAD Sampaikan Maaf
kepada Polda Sumut: Kodam-Polda Sepakat ‘Gudangkan’ Senjata” (KSAD apologized to North Sumatra Polda:
Kodam-Polda agree to store their weapons), Pikiran Rakyat 2 October 2002.
674
Pikiran Rayat, Ibid.
675
Interviews M117, M61, M92. The respondents were officers in a KODIM in East Java.
676
Interview P130
677
Other hypotheses involving the possibilities of rivalry over protection rackets or illegal businesses or
engagement in local ethnic fighting were not brought up in the discussions.
283
effectiveness of security management after the military-police separation had
deteriorated, and this gives an insight into why the security conditions had
previously appeared to be handled properly.
Understanding the problems that arose from the military-police separation just
discussed is necessary to understand the relative weakness of security
management in the immediately post-New Order era.678 The East Java case
shows that while the separation seemed useful to prevent the military from
violating human rights or to protect the military from being accused, it had done
very little to improve the rights of the people for security protection. In other words,
the policy had protected the military image more than it had improved the security
management. The separation had followed the democratic procedures, in this
sense of redefining the military’s role including by limiting its involvement in
domestic security. However, the separation should have been aimed at ensuring
that the military’s new role effectively prevented it from being involved in politics,
including through domestic political-security linkages, rather than simply aimed at
redefining divisions of labour between the military and police. So, although the
policy of the separation has been initiated, it had yet to be followed by efforts to
maximize its implementation, especially by creating an effective and strong police
force.
As shown in Chapter Five, in a democracy people have rights, including to be
wrong, or to take, perhaps, wrong decisions. In that chapter, it was clear that the
ways human rights had been protected were not only by restraining the potential
violators, the military, but also by undermining some of those rights, those to an
assured security. As Feaver says, protection from the military is in tension with
protection by the military.679 In Indonesia, the implementation of the separation
policy appeared to suggest that “protection from” the military had been maximized,
while “protection by” the military had been minimized without replacing it with an
effective protection by police. In many cases, people saw the police as an
678
In other regions, such as Maluku, Poso (Sulawesi) or Kalimantan the security conditions worsened after the
separation. See lists of conflict areas for example Rinakit, Sukardi., “Decentralization and the military”, in Erb,
Maribeth; Sulistyanto, Priyambudi; and Faucher, Carole, (ed.) Regionalism in Post-Suharto Indonesia, (New York:
RoutledgeCurzon, 2005), p. 81-82.
679
See Chapter Five, footnote 1.
284
organization or as individuals who they need to be protected from as well. For
democracy to go on a more effective track, the problems of building effective
police forces would have to be given a higher priority.
5. Conclusion
As the discussion has shown, there was a big cut in financial sources of the
territorial units and this cut minimized the political power of the local military.
Despite personal approaches between the commanders of the local units and the
members of F-TNI/POLRI to get security assistance funding from the local
government budget, the amount was very small compared to what the units might
have had in the New Order era. It was quite encouraging that there was no
indication that this financial loss was dealt with systemically through military
channels in the local politics to compensate the loss.
The cut did not, however, affect the continued existence of the territorial units. In
fact, there was an indication that the military continue to assert that the territorial
structure is a realistic form of troop deployment for Indonesian current political,
economic, or security conditions. Two areas of security reforms are likely to
become long term problems. The first is around the question of whether the
military would continue to back-up police for internal security; and the second is
whether the external defence strategy will adopt a conventional form that requires
a highly professionalized military and excludes non-combatants from military
operations or will stick to the concept of people’s total defence that involves nonmilitary elements of society in providing for logistic support and for a guerilla
warfare strategy. The answer will determine the relevance of the current structures
of the territorial command.
In addition, neither did it affect the perception of their images as the easy moneymaking jobs for the individual personnel and as the place for ‘disposed of’,
unprofessional soldiers. Not only could this influence the professionalization of the
military, but also the effective security management at the operational, local level.
The above discussion has argued the reduced effectiveness of police in handling
domestic security, as well as of the military in dealing with its defence role since
285
1998. This suggests that the Koter system, or a Koter-like system if it is changed,
will remain more or less as it was, integrating the military with the society (in a
security management context the former has stronger power than the latter)
instead of separating it. The implication for the civil-military relations is that their
level and scope, instead of being limited to the national, institutional level as
suggested by Huntington (see Chapter Two), will be spread over multi-layer
interactions involving sub-national, operational levels, thus, preserving potentials to
be involved in political matters produced by or related to the security problems.
286
Chapter Eleven
IMPACTS ON CIVILIAN POLITICS:
Civilian politicians, civil society and uncivil politics without TNI
...societies with politicized military also have a politicized clergy, politicized
civil service, politicized universities, trade unions and business
corporations”…[this society lacks effective political institutions that are]
“capable of mediating, refining, and moderating group political action.680
1. Introduction
In Chapter Five it was noted that any step taken by the military to ease its
political control would be followed by an increase of political control on the
part of the civilian society, which in turn strengthened pressures for a
further decrease in the military’s. This chapter will report on some of the
local changes on the civilian side, the further increase in civilian political
power.
According to Huntington, there are four possible scenarios that can
happen in a military political withdrawal. They can be any combination of
two variables each of which can be given two values values: returning or
retaining power, and/or increasing or limiting political participation of the
people.681 The maximum democratizing impact that is generally expected
would be the combination of returning power and increasing public political
participation. In this case, there would also be a wider opportunity as well
as an immediate necessity to establish democratic institutions that would
be able to mediate the increased participatory politics of various social
forces. In its best result, the military withdrawal from politics will produce a
strong democratic system that is characterized both by a high level of
public political participation and by effective democratic institutions. Many
scholars of civil-military relations believe that this strong democratic
680
Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies, (New Haven: Yale University, 1968), pp. 194-196.
According to Huntington, the possible scenarios in the military withdrawal are that the military returns power
and increases participation; returns power and limits participation; retains power and increases participation; and
retains power and limits participation.
681
287
system would be not only a rational result of the military withdrawal but
also a definite requirement for a preventive measure against a future
military political involvement. So, it is vital to establish a “civilian control”
over the military.682
In reality, the process and its result are not always as simple,
straightforward and clear-cut as in the theory, but can be much more
complex. Especially in the East Java case, as shown in this chapter, the
military political withdrawal did not immediately increase public political
participation, it did not soon result in a strong democratic institution, nor
did civilian politics automatically develop into a strong democratic political
system necessary for an effective civilian control over the military. The
following sections will discuss the features of public political participation
and the political institutions in the East Java Province after the 1998
movements, and explain the complexity of problems that happened. It
attempts to identify indicators that show how the further decrease in
military political control has had impacts on the civilians, and to illuminate
the kinds of problems the civilian politics, the politicians and parties have
been facing since 1998.
2. Political participation
For most of the more than thirty five million East Javanese their political
engagements had been limited to the activities around the general
election, once every five years. Most of the political affairs had been
allowed to become the business of several small groups of elites. The rest
of the population were “too busy” struggling against economic difficulties,
or too sceptical about the traditionally negative image of politics – “ dirty
games”, “deceitfulness”, or “selfishness”683 – implying that “good people”
should not be involved in politics. However, as Chapter Five has
682
See theoretical discussion in Chapter Two.
These two reasons were expressed during interviews by respondents who were mainly local people and
village heads. Eg. Interviews V23, V27.
683
288
demonstrated, although not yet having become the majority,684 the number
of people who directly participated (or were mobilized) in political activities
around 1998 had began to increase dramatically to a level that was
beyond what the New Order government used to be able to contain and
control. So, this means that at community level the military had already
lost its former control by the 1998 reformasi, rather than fully as a
consequence of the reformasi, although formally its control over political
institutions was dis-assembled later, post-1998.
What made many people suddenly become actively politicized and depart
in 1998 from the de-politicization of the society (the strategy of masa
mengambang/floating mass)685 that had been run by the New Order for
thirty-two years? Discourse about the 1998 movements has been much
concentrated on one-sided explanations, mainly focusing on the regime’s
attitudes
and
reactions
toward
the
democratic
movements.
The
conclusions then have usually been that the degree of achievement in
transforming the regime toward a democratic system depended greatly on
the degree of resistance, or alternatively accommodation, by the regime to
the movements.686 Very little attention has been paid to the other side of
explanation by looking at the nature of the movements, who ran them and
how the process happened.
The case of the PDIP’s Posko Goto Royong (PGR) reported in Chapter
Five has shown that different individuals, groups or elements of the society
had different motives for being politicized but, in general, they were
influenced by economic frustration that made them disposed to accept the
684
My respondent who was a village head said that in 1998 the majority of people his village remained passive,
but they hoped that the crisis would go away as soon as possible, either by the demonstrators ceasing their
actions or Soeharto resigning as was being demanded by the demonstrations. He said that the majority felt
relieved when Soeharto decided to resign because they thought that the conditions would come back to normal,
neither because they genuinely supported the reform movements, nor because they thought that the reformist
groups would be able to handle the country any better than the New Order could. Interview V27.
685
The New Order policy of ‘protecting the masses’ from involvement in political activity by forbidding any
activities at the village or general community level by political parties apart from the (allegedly non-party)
government political organization Golkar.
686
See for example Jun Honna’s book, as already noted in Chapter Two, Military Doctrines and Democratic
Transition: a Comparative Perspective on Indonesia's Dual Function and Latin American National Security
Doctrines, (Canberra: Dept. of Political and Social Change, Research School of Pacific and Asian Studies,
Australian National University, 1999).
289
economic rewards offered through political networks that were organized
by some groups of politicians. As soon as the economic rewards ceased
to satisfy, the public political participation (mobilization) reverted to levels
which were not much different from its previously low level (perhaps with
an exception of a higher level of NGO activities post-1998 as they
continued to receive financial support from their donor-sponsors), with the
same continuing reasons, too busy with economic struggles and too
sceptical about the politics being offered. In addition, as the following two
sub-sections will show, a strong patrimonial culture that characterized the
social ties between followers and leaders facilitated a situation where the
support from the former to the latter was something taken for granted,
mainly as the product of personal or charismatic qualities of the leaders
rather than rational or ideological considerations.
2.1. “Anti-female president” against the “bloody thumb-print” campaign
In one sense, the newly-democratic political system was seen by many
people as more a source of instability than a solution to politics. This was
exemplified soon after the 1999 election by the case of the “Female
President Ban” by Gus Dur’s PKB and the PDIP’s reaction to the ban,
shown in a mass petition of bloody thumb-prints. In another sense, it gave
an example of temporarily high public political participation that was
closely related to violence, where direct mass political pressures became
a primary means of political action. The PDIP-PKB conflict at the
grassroots level was triggered by the political competition for the
presidential election in the national parliament in Jakarta. PDIP supporters
expected that Megawati had to become the President because she was
the leader of the party winning the largest number of seats in the 1999
national election, while PKB supporters, with an interpretation of Islamic
teaching that forbids a female president, urged the PKB to not support
Megawati and declare a refusal. The refusal issue had been controversial
for a few weeks, but was formally declared on 1 July 1 1999, in Pasuruan,
290
East Java, by a hundred Nahdatul Ulama (NU, Council of Muslim
Theologians) kyai (religious leaders) representing eight Provinces.687
This refusal invited strong reactions from the PDIP’s supporters who were
worried that the declaration would influence all Islamic parties to oppose
Megawati’s candidature. They expressed their loyalty to Megawati by
collecting a million “bloody thumb-prints” (cap jempol darah), and declared
“a loyalty to death” (kesetiaan sampai mati) to her. They also collected a
million signatures from PDIP supporters on a massive banner displayed in
public places.688 In August before the national People’s Consultative
Assembly (MPR)689 general meeting PDIP supporters in East Java and
Central Java were preparing to rally in Jakarta to secure Megawati’s
position in the Presidential election. They also formed several militia
groups; Banteng Sumber Nyowo, Panji Tengkorak and Mangkubumi.690
This development increased the political tensions and made the people
worried that a communal conflict might soon break out.
The underlying conflict between the PDIP supporters on one hand, who
were disappointed about the failure of Megawati to become the Indonesian
president, against PKB supporters on the other, who were benefited by the
Islamic coalition of PKB, PPP, PAN and PBB, diversified the previously
687
The PKB was the political party based in the NU. The declaration was made at 7 p.m. in the
Pondok Pesantren Ikqya' Ussunnah of Habib Abdul Rohman Assegaf. According to Drs Jumadik
Sahal Sulaiman, the chairman of the meeting, there were five agreements declared: These were to:
1. refuse a PKB coalition with PDIP;
2. refuse a female president;
3. support a PKB coalition with Islamic parties.;
4. support a president with religious vision and statement;
5. call for ukhuwah islamiyah (Islamic friendships).
The eight Provinces were Jakarta, West Java, East Java, Central Java, West Sumatra, South
Sumatra, West Kalimantan and North Sulawesi. See “100 Kyai NU Kumpul di Pasuruan, Menolak
Presiden Wanita”, Jawapos. 1 July 1999; “100 Ulama soal Capres Wanita”, Kompas, 3 July 1999.
688
The action was carried out by the RPD (Rakyat Pro-Demokrasi, Pro-Democracy People) forum, led by a
PDIP member, Abd. Gani, at Pasar Turi, Dupak St, Demak St, Jepara St and Gresik St. The signatures were
written on a 270m long banner with the statement: “RPD supports Megawati to be the Indonesian President”. See
“Cap Jempol Darah Terus Dikembangkan ke Ranting” Republika, 30 June 1999; “Setelah Cap Jempol Darah,
Sejuta Teken Dukung Mega”, Surabaya Post, 5 Juli 1999.
689
At the time the MPR (Majelis Permusyawaratan Rakyat/People’s Consultative Assembly) usually only met
every five years to elect the President and Vice President and determine the General Outlines of State Policy for
that period, although it could be called into special session to consider important issues of state policy. (It was
such a Special Session that was called in 2001 to impeach President Gusdur.) Half of its members were
appointed and half were the elected members of the DPR (Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat/People’s Representative
Assembly), the legislative Parliament of Indonesia. Its role and powers have since been changed.
690
Tabloid Magazine, 19 August 1999
291
usual pattern of reformist-nonreformist political struggle where the military,
along with Golkar, were generally put on the side of non-reformists. In
many ways, however, at this time the military “had no business” (tidak ada
urusan) with this conflict.691 The military was committed to keeping a
neutral position in political matters, and itself was too busy “receiving
condemnation” (menerima hujatan). As a respondent said, any statement
could have been politicized to “further corner” (lebih memojokkan) the
military.692 A military respondent, who was a Sub-district commander at
that time, said, “I would love to see an open war between them, so that
they learned what they gained from the democracy”.693 “Personally, I
would support NU’s declaration, not because of the religious reason, but
because of my feeling of hate for the PDIP that was dominated by korak
(petty criminals).”694
One former Babinsa (Village NCO) reported that he had never received an
instruction from the higher command about what to do concerning the
“Bloody Thumb-print” action. But, he said, “I think they [the officers] did not
really care about it.”695 Nevertheless, another Babinsa revealed that he
had got an instruction to find out information about when the local PDIP
mass would leave for Jakarta, in order to anticipate the security condition
in the capital. However, he never obtained the required information
because he could no longer contact informants who used to help him.696
Later it was evident that the worry that an open conflict would occur
between PDIP and PKB supporters would not be fulfilled, and the petition
had failed to bring Megawati to the Presidency – the members of the MPR
had elected Gusdur instead. Nevertheless, the importance of this case is
691
The respondent was Head of a Kansospol in 1998-1999. Interview M15.
Interviews G6, M67, M68.
Interview M32.
694
Interview M55.
695
Interview M22.
696
Interview M116. A former Sub-district Commander, who had since become the Sub-district Chairman of
Golkar in Malang, similarly confirmed that since 1998 the military intelligence network had disappeared. This was
because it was impossible for a Babinsa to work alone. Previously, they had relied too much on their civilian
informants (TBO/Tenaga Bantuan Operasi), who were kept by the military with funding (amplop, ‘envelopes’)
which was supplied by local Chinese businesses. Since the collapse of the New Order, both the informants and
the funds had evaporated. This situation explains not only why the military no longer used its former intelligence
network for observing the people’s political activities, but also explains why it could not properly deal with the
communal conflicts mentioned in the previous sections. The deteriorated nature of the military intelligence opened
the way for these difficulties. Interview R117.
692
693
292
that it became a point where the reform groups began to abandon the New
Order regime and the military as their common target as they began
another battle among themselves in the competition for power.
2.2. The Gusdur Impeachment Crisis
Direct mass political pressures and violence were not the exclusive
domain of the PDIP supporters in East Java. By the end of 2001, the
Gusdur Impeachment Crisis – a conflict between President Gusdur and
the Parliament – exemplified how the PKB supporters in the East Java
reacted similarly. At times, anger and pressures toward their political
opponents were violently expressed by Gusdur’s supporters. Basic
problems in the increased political participation in the post-1998
democratization process were here re-emphasized. It was too direct and
disorganized and thereby strengthened the traditional perceptions by the
military and the majority of Indonesians that Indonesian people had not yet
developed sufficient maturity in politics, and that the military was needed
to restore law and order.
In mid-1999, after Gusdur, rather than Megawati Sukarnoputri, had been elected
as President by the MPR, his somewhat erratic attempts at reforms produced
continual disagreements between him and the members of opposing parties in the
Parliament and various conflicts and unrest within Indonesian society. By the
beginning of 2001, partly due to dissatisfactions with the ways Gusdur’s
Presidency was operating and with its directions, there were moves in the National
Parliament, the DPR, to call a special session of the People’s Consultative
Assembly, the MPR, to consider his impeachment and ejection from office.
Eventually this happened in August 2001.
In January 2001 Gusdur’s supporters in East Java had talked about going to
Jakarta to secure the embattled Gusdur Presidency. Speaking in the Pondok
Pesantren Langitan on Sunday, 7 January 2001, the national leader of the NU,
KH Hasyim Muzadi, said that the NU would send masses of defenders to Jakarta
if there was a mass movement from the opposing parties in Jakarta to topple
Gusdur. Yet, a few days later, Syaifullah Yusuf, the national leader of the NU’s
Ansor697 youth movement, Barisan Ansor Serba Guna (Banser)/All-Purpose
Ansor Guards urged them not to come to Jakarta because it would be “counter697
The name has a religious significance. The Ansor were those in Medina who followed the Prophet
Mohammed after he left Mecca.
293
productive” for Gusdur’s popularity. As an alternative, the national meeting in
Pandaan, Pasuruan, of the Ansor commanders, led by Syaifullah Yusuf, issued a
statement that they would carry out actions from their local bases in order to
secure the Gusdur government until 2004.698
On 7 February 2001 mass attacks began on Golkar offices in Surabaya. Golkar’s
elites accused supporters of the small leftist party Partai Rakyat Demokrat (PRD,
People’s Democratic Party) of taking advantage of the mass actions by stoning
and damaging Golkar’s offices. The PRD East Java leader, Muhammad Sholeh,
denied the accusation but confirmed that they joined the demonstrations along
with activists from PMII, GMNI, GMKI, PMKRI and LMD under the Front
Reformasi Total (FRT, Total Reform Front).699 Attacks on Golkar offices also took
place in other East Java cities such as Banyuwangi, Situbondo, Pasuruan and
Bondowoso. The national leader of the NU, KH Hasyim Muzadi, claimed the main
role in attempting to topple Gusdur was being played by the PDIP and Poros
Tengah (Central Axis) politicians. “But, the people understood this as the work of
the strength of the past, Golkar”.700
698
Published on TEMPO Interaktif, Jakarta: 23-1-2001 at 22:06 WIB.
Ketua PRD Jatim, Muhammad Soleh: “Kami Bukan Dalang Pembakaran Kantor Golkar” 8-22001 at 23:48 WIB, TEMPO Interaktif, Surabaya.
700
KH Hasyim Muzadi: “Saya Tak tahu Kenapa Golkar Jadi Sasaran” 8-2-2001 at 23:56 WIB,
TEMPO Interaktif, Surabaya.
699
294
Gusdur, President Abdurrahman Wahid, claimed there was a “third party” joining
the demonstrations held by his supporters. He had ordered the military and police
to control the actions, but because they were outnumbered by the masses, he
asked them to restrain themselves to prevent unintended victims. KH Abdulloh
Faqih, the leader of the Pondok Pesantren (Islamic Boarding School) Langitan
Tuban, had a meeting on 8 February 2001 with the East Java Provincial and
District NU leaders to discuss mass uprisings by supporters of Gusdur after the
attacks on Golkar offices and blockades of streets in cities in the eastern part of
the Province, including Jember and Banyuwangi. The meeting asked the masses
to be controlled but did not blame them, blaming the anti-Gusdur parliamentary
elites instead.701
On one hand, the NU and PKB elites publicly regretted the violent mass
actions, but on the other hand, they appeared to be siding with these
actions in attempting to show their support for Gusdur. This worsened the
security instability. Early in May the national media reported that Gusdur
had formed a special force consisting of all political forces outside the
parliaments, including small parties. He said, “I am ready to die in the
palace … I do not want to resign”. He also believed that Megawati would
soon fall sick. Political observer Indro Tjahyono predicted that clashes
would soon break out. The leader of the Murba Party, Hadidjoyo
Nitimihardjo, reported that "pasukan sorban” (turban [Islamic] troops), such
as GPI ex-Masyumi militias, had arrived in Jakarta to counter the NU
Banser troops.702 According to Gusdur, his supporters in the East Java
were “ready to declare Independence and appoint him as the president”,
and that some Achenese and Papuan leaders would do the same thing
should he be impeached. He claimed that, in total, there were six
provinces that would declare their Independence. In East Java there were
reports of several incidents, according to Colonel Lilik Koeshadiyanto, the
Intelligence Assistant to the Commander-in-Chief of Kodam V Brawijaya,
such as in Nguling, Pasuruan, where the mobs had cut down the trees to
block the Pasuruan–Surabaya and Malang-Pasuruan roads and in
Muncar, Banyuwangi, where seventeen houses of Muhammadyah
members were red-crossed and sent threats.703
701
“Kiai Langitan Minta Massa Gus Dur Diredam”, 9-2-2001 at 9:38 WIB, TEMPO Interaktif,
Surabaya.
702
“Gus Dur Lebih Memilih Meninggal di Istana” Radio Netherlands, 4/05/2001.
703
Tempo, 28-05-2001.
295
On 27-28 May 2001, one of the biggest actions by Gusdur’s supporters occurred
in Pasuruan, East Java, where they damaged and burned dozens of buildings.
They also occupied the Parliament buildings and Government offices of both
Pasuruan City and Pasuruan Regency. Among the buildings burned were the
offices of the PDIP and the PPP, a High School and mosque belonging to
Muhammadyah (connected to PAN, a rival Islamic party), a house of the
Pasuruan PAN leader, Bethel Church, and two police posts on the main
Soekarno-Hatta road. The Government offices, including the Mayor’s main office,
were written over in red colour with “This building is taken-over by the people”. The
Police Chief of Pasuruan City, Ltc. Police Wakin, recorded at least twenty one
buildings were damaged and burned. The action started on Sunday, 27 May
2001, by setting old tires on fire in Nguling Market, Grati Sub-district. The
Pasuruan–Probolinggo road was blocked. The aim of the actions according to H
Ragil Amir, the action coordinator, was to reject the MPR session in Jakarta. The
security forces only came at 3 o’clock the next afternoon when the action had
begun to calm down, and after the mobs dispersed. They could only clear the
remains of the burned buildings.704 In other cities of East Java, the security forces
had been warned to anticipate the actions, but these continued over the following
days without the security forces being able to handle them effectively.705
The next day, 29 May 2001, the violence was continued. In Pasuruan there were
attacks on the Gereja Protestan Indonesia Barat/West Indonesian Protestant
Church (GPIB), the Catholic Church St. Agustinus and the Gereka Kristen Jawi
Wetan/East Javanese Christian Church (GKJW). The latter attack happened at
9.30-10.00 a.m. A police post was damaged, the three churches were burned and
destroyed and shops were stoned in Jalan Niaga and Jalan Nusantara by a mob
of more than 1000 men. Around 11.00 the mass even attacked the District Police
Headquarters, and 132 persons were arrested. The Chairperson of the PKB
faction in the local Assembly, H Misbahul Munir, condemned the shooting of a
number of demonstrators. He blamed the riots on the conduct of the political elite
in the national parliament that “induced the anger of the people”. At a press
conference at the NU office in Pasuruan Regency, the local commander of the
Hizbullah militia, KH Masyudi, stated that 11 demonstrators had been shot,
including three seriously wounded; one in the arm, one in the chest, and one in the
704
“DI PASURUAN, MASSA MERUSAK DAN BAKAR GEDUNG”, Kompas, 29 Mei 2001
In Malang all policemen were forbidden to go home by the Malang Police Chief, Ltc. Police Nicolaus Eko
Riwayanto, in anticipation of the riots. In the meeting with the District Commander of 0833 Malang, Ltc. Guruh M,
and the Malang Mayor, Col. Suyitno, he said that the threats had come from Gusdur’s supporters, most of whom
had come from other cities. In Probolinggo, at least 300 military troops, police and 40 men of the militias of Pagar
Nusa and Banser were sent to save the PLTU (Pembangkit Listrik Tenaga Uap/Electricity Generator) in Paiton,
Probolinggo, on 30-05-2001. Some additional troops were sent from Battalion Zipur 10 and the Marines to
increase the security according to the Chief of Paiton Police, Captain Police Subadar. The Pagar Nusa men were
led by H Idris Hasan Mubarok, Coordinator of Pagar Nusa, Paiton. (See “PLTU Paiton Aman Pasukan
Pengaman Ditambah”, Kompas 31 Mei 2001.) In Surabaya, religious leaders included in the Ikatan Kerukunan
Umat Beragama Surabaya/Surabaya Religious Tolerance Union (IKUBS), helped map the areas vulnerable to
riots, such as religious centres. The leader of Nahdlatul Ulama Surabaya, H Sunarto, included the areas of
Sukolilo, Keputih, Pogot, Semampir, Sidotopo, Kapasan, Lakarsantri and Wiyung. He urged an increase in
security in these areas. Romo Eko Budi Susilo Pr, the Christian leader, said regretfully there had been hundreds
of religious centres damaged by the mobs. See “Daerah Rawan Konflik di Surabaya Perlu Dipetakan”, Kompas,
31 May 2001.
705
296
back. He warned that the repressive acts of the state apparatus would further
provoke the mass.706
On 30 May 2001 around six thousand of Gusdur’s supporters, led by Drs Rusdi
Romli, occupied the offices of the Situbono Assembly and Local Government.
They forced the DPRD speaker, H Aqiq Zaman, and the Bupati, H Moh Diaaman,
respectively to sign over these buildings to the people. With these signatures all
government offices down to the lowest level were supposedly given to the people
for an unlimited time. All the staff were told to take the day off. Security troops
could only watch from main roads. The mob said they would return the offices
after the MPR session was “cancelled”. Some of the mob then moved to Basuki
Rahmat road and burned down two of the PDIP posts.707
The difficulty of handling the riots in East Java during the months of the
Gusdur Crisis was increased partly by the psychological effect on the
military of the fact that the riots were carried out by Gusdur’s supporters.
There was no explicit protection for the supporters by the President, but
the military officers were well aware of the danger on their own – fear of an
accusation of “salah prosedur” (wrong procedure) or human rights
violations if, for example, a security operation weakened the political
position of the President.708 Also, the local riots were mainly driven by
political competition at the national level, at the time when the military was
being pressed to be not involved in political issues. The political neutrality
that was internally instructed by the military leadership had been taken for
granted at the sub-national level, as shown during the previous political
confrontations during the 1999 national election. The 2001 Gusdur Crisis
was one of the subsequent effects of this confrontation that was
understood by the military officers and soldiers as now beyond their
responsibility.709 Yet, partly, there was also a growing feeling of
disappointment towards the Gus Dur policies of military reforms among
the soldiers and officers who saw Gusdur increasingly using “divide and
706
See “President Regrets Violence in East Java” Jakarta, Kompas Online Wednesday, 30 May
2001. See also “Warga Gereja Pasuruan Masih Trauma Akibat Amuk Massa”, TEMPO Interaktif,
Jakarta, 30 May 2001.
707
“Massa Sita Kantor Pemerintah Kabupaten dan DPRD Situbondo”, Kompas, 31 May 2001.
708
Interview M99. The respondent was a Lieutenant Colonel serving in the Pasuruan Regency DPRD. It was not
uncommon to hear Gusdur accusing someone, although frequently he denied what he said soon after. The
Commander-in-Chief of the Kostrad (Army Strategic and Reserve Command) denied Gusdur’s allegation that
Kostrad members were involved in the Pasuruan riots, East Java. He said that the reports given to the President,
including that some Kostrad wore police uniforms, were “sontoloyo” (silly). SCTV, 26 June 2001.
709
Interview M29.
297
rule” approaches, playing one group of officers among the central military
elite against another in his attempt to control the military. By not carrying
out sufficient action to stop the riots, the military got at least two
advantages. One, as the target of the riots was not the military but the
political parties of Golkar, PDIP, PPP, PAN and PBB, the political
resistance toward Gusdur would be stronger. Two, sooner or later, one of
the conflicting groups would seek protection and alliance from the
military.710
By July 2001, the position of Gusdur in Jakarta was clearly weakening.
Officers and soldiers, with many other Indonesians, had predicted that the
Gusdur Presidency would soon come to an end. Security forces had
seemed to lose respect for Gusdur and his supporters. Consequently, the
psychological obstacle, in relation to the relation between the President
and the military, which had previously hindered their acting decisively
against Gusdur’s supporters, was now lifted. The police and the military
began to consolidate their operations to safeguard the Sidang Istimewa
(Special Session) MPR, that was being organized to start in Jakarta on 1
August 2001, as well as to try to ensure security and order in what were
expected to be likely unsettled areas outside Jakarta. In Probolinggo, for
example, police held an operation called Operasi Mantrap Semeru III,
involving 915 police and military personnel. From 13 July they checked for
weapons, such as knives or guns that might be used in riots. To reassure
the local community about the preparedness of the troops, they carried out
a show of force on 19 July 2001.711 On the same day, three students of
the Universitas Islam Malang/Malang Islamic University (Unisma) were
arrested by the Malang police. The next day another student disappeared
when police dispersed about two hundred and fifty demonstrators in front
of the University of Brawijaya campus, just after they started their action.
Some students were injured in the incident. The demonstrators had
demanded the abolition of Golkar, the bringing of New Order leaders to
710
Interview K58. The respondent was a member of the F-KB (National Awakening Faction) of Gusdur.
“Pengamanan Menjelang SI Polres Probolinggo Gelar Operasi Mantap Semeru III”, Kompas, 14
Juli 2001.
711
298
court and the abolition of the military’s Dual Function. They called their
group a Forum Warga Negara/Citizen Forum (FWN). Edi Banteng, the
public spokesman of FWN, said they were distributing two thousand
brochures calling for “pembangkangan sipil” (civilian disobedience) by not
paying taxes and blockading food distribution to the city.712
Ltc. Police Suseno Djahri, in a meeting with the Wali Kota (Mayor) of
Probolinggo, Banadi Eko, the Chief of Judiciary, Francs Loppy, the
Commander of Sub-Denpom (Military Police Sub-district) V, Captain CPM
A Iskandar, Captain Inf. Panjaitan from KODIM O820 Probolinggo,
Battalion Zeni Tempur X Kostrad, the Pagar Nusa Coordinator, Kraksaan
branch, Sahudi, and some informal social leaders, made it clear that the
security forces would shoot at any anarchist action. On 23 July, the day
when Gusdur was impeached by the Parliament, as well as the days
afterwards, there was no significant public demonstration held by Gusdur’s
supporters, in spite of their threatening to do so. The Resort Police
(Polres) of Probolinggo and Military District Command (KODIM) 0820 of
Probolinggo claimed that they had begun to limit the movements of
provocateurs.713
The Gusdur Crisis was the point where the New Order’s traditional pattern
of local civil-military relations at the local community level began to recycle
– towards the assumption that the civilians could not manage and control
their political actions, so they had be controlled by the military. The
replacement of Gusdur by Megawati as the President re-emphasized this
concept, as Megawati relied very much on the military to sustain her
Presidency for the rest of its term until 2004714, which gave much room for
the military to recover from the serious demoralization that had taken
place after 1998.
712
“Aksi Tuntut Pembubaran Golkar, Dibubarkan Aparat”, Kompas, 20 July 2001.
713
One day before, Kompas News reported the Commander-in-Chief (Pangdam) V Brawijaya, Maj.
Gen. Sudi Silalahi had warned that twelve provocateurs had entered the “tapal kuda” (horse-shoe)
area including Pasuruan, Probolinggo, Situbondo, Bondowoso and Banyuwangi. They came both
from Jakarta and from outside Java, but the security forces refused to reveal their identities. See
“Polres dan Kodim Persempit Ruang Gerak Provokator”, Kompas, 26 July 2001.
714
It was for only three years as she had taken over from Gusdur after two years of his five year term and was
completing the rest of this.
299
To sum up, the grassroots features of the PDIP and PKB in these two East
Java cases demonstrates a changing nature of local political participation
of the people – a temporary, chaotic increase. In addition to the PDIP’s
PGR case discussed in Chapter Five, both the PDIP’s Bloody Thumb-print
Campaign and the PKB response to the Gusdur Crisis discussed in this
chapter show that such mass mobilization became an important political
show of force that made them heard by the political opponents. However,
such kinds of attempted direct pressure mostly produced results counterproductive to the long-term efforts of building a democratic society as an
effective means of civilian control over the military. Mainly, this was
because of the character of threatened or actual mass violence attached
to the mobilization. It could simply attract unsympathetic perception from
the silent majority that was frequently deprived by the actions. It could also
easily make state repressive actions toward the mass movements gain a
general public acceptance and approval, thus becoming de facto justifiable
under the banner of “public interest”. Consequently, in the long run,
attitudes against such political activity both from the general public and
from the security forces could potentially abort the seeds of democracy
growing and developing.
3. Politicians and political parties
While the above section addressed the questions of why the 1998/9
military withdrawal had not immediately improved public political
participation, the following section discusses the issues associated with
the political institutions that had not yet become properly institutionalized
after the start of the process of withdrawal. Some indicators of impacts of
the further decrease in military political control on the civilians will be
identified, and the kinds of problems being faced by the politicians and
parties since 1998 will be discussed.
300
3.1. PDIP: Politicians and party
Being a politician had increasingly been seen by the civilians as the way to
get connected to large sources of money, somewhat similarly (but more
dramatically) to how military officers eventually saw their involvements in
politics during the Soeharto era. Some politicians worked for their
ideologies, but many of them were motivated by the money. Their loyalties
to the society or the constituents who chose them, and to the political
parties to which they are attached, were very flexible, if not uncertain, and
dependent on where they could make lots of money. For example, Basir
Suliki, was a poor and ordinary painter labourer in a furniture factory
before he was recruited by the PDIP and became a PGR shelter organizer
in early 1998 in the District of Sumber Yasin.715 After the 1999 election he
became a legislator in the Sumber Yasin District Legislative Assembly,
and because the PDIP occupied the biggest number of the seats of the
DPRD he was elected as the DPRD Chairman without a significant
challenge from other factions. Since then he suddenly became a rich man,
owned two big luxury houses in Sumber Yasin, drove expensive European
cars and attended VIP entertainment centres regularly. At one time he was
among those who were caught in the sweeping operations carried out by
the police against the ecstasy drug users in entertainment centres. At
another time he spoke publicly, as published in a local newspaper, that “if
you want to be rich, be a politician”, a statement that attracted
condemnation throughout the District saying that it was “an immoral
statement”. Later he was sentenced to four years in jail by the local court
because of a corruption charge, after he moved to another newlyestablished party and the PDIP was no longer inclined to cover his
corruption case.
Titan Osman was another example of a PDIP politician in the District of
Tunggal Redjo. He was a poor cassava farmer before he was asked by an
existing PDIP politician to organize a PGR building in his Sumbersari
village, in early June 1998. Following his success in recruiting hundreds of
715
Names of the persons and Districts in the cases have been changed.
301
new members of PDIP through the PGR that he organized, he was
included in the lists of the PDIP legislators for the 1999–2004 Tunggal
Redjo DPRD. Like Basir Suliki, his income changed suddenly and
dramatically, and he expanded his activities in the cassava business to a
much larger scale. From 1999 he became one of the biggest cassava
traders in Tunggal Redjo, buying much more land to plant the cassava and
employing hundreds of labourers for his own cassava farm as well as
buying and stocking much more cassava from the smaller farmers. Most of
the labourers who worked for him were those who had been involved in
the PGR that he managed. When I was interviewing him, he
unsuccessfully invited me to invest in his cassava business and asked for
help to market his twenty thousand tons of cassava to other Districts! In
2003 he was one of the eleven local PDIP legislators whose party
membership was suspended by the PDIP national leadership because of
their being accused of disloyalty to party policy during the Bupati election
in Tunggal Redjo (this election case will be described more later). He told
me that, in short, his life had “changed a hundred and eighty degrees after
he became a politician”. However, he also added that joining politics has
made him “a much bigger cassava businessman rather than a great
politician”.716
Tanu Kusman was a vegetable street seller (gerobak sayur) in the
Mangunredjo District before a friend asked him to join the building of PGR
in 1998. He was inclined to give up his small business because the
income as an activist almost doubled his previous earnings from selling
vegetables.717 When his name was included on the PDIP list for the
Mangunredjo Legislature in the 1999 elections, he never thought that he
would be elected, because he had thought that the PDIP would only get a
small number of votes, as it had in previous years. In fact, the PDIP
gained around fifty percent of the votes in the District, and it was decided
that his name would be included in the official final list of PDIP legislators.
716
Interview D74.
Daily he earned around ten thousand rupiah (about Aus$1.50) from selling vegetables, while as an activist he
was paid fifteen to twenty thousand a day plus a free box of lunch.
717
302
Like most of these, his life changed dramatically from being among the
common people (wong cilik) to being in a rich middle class group. After
becoming a legislator Titan Osman had enough funds to develop his
talents as a trader. At the time of my mid-2003 interview with him he had
established and was managing vegetable storage corporations (koperasi
pengepul palawija) in three different Sub-districts of Mangunredjo. He said
that these corporations had a double role: first, “to provide a place [for him]
to invest” his large official income as a legislator; and second, to facilitate
“a sustainable contact with the constituents” who support him as a
legislator.
Before further analyzing the cases of these three local PDIP legislators,
another three cases will be presented, of executive leaders emerging from
the PDIP. Sudjarwo had become the District Head of Mangliawan. He was
a junior security guard of a private university in the District when he was
asked to join the PDIP’s political actions in 1998. In 2000, as a PDIP
legislator of the Mangliawan District, he was approached by the PKB to be
proposed as a Vice District Head candidate. A PKB politician said that the
choice to propose Sudjarwo was made as a strategy to attract the PDIP
faction members to affiliate with and support the candidate team from
PKB.718 However, his decision to have an affiliation with PKB was
unwanted by his PDIP faction which already had its own Head and Vice
Head candidate team for the coming District election. The disagreement
ended up with the suspension of Sudjarwo’s PDIP membership because
he continued with his plan to register as the Vice District Head candidate
through the PKB. Nevertheless, his PDIP membership was restored after
he won the election and became the Vice Head of the District. Two years
later he moved into the top position after the elected District Head died,
with then no Vice Head. The main criticisms of Sudjarwo’s subsequent
leadership were that he was not able to implement the brilliant
development plans outlined by the former District Head, partly because he
was not “educated enough to discern the plans”.
718
Interview K116.
303
Budi Darmawan, who was a civil servant and a teacher at a state
university before 1998, was another example. After the 1998 abolition of
the regulation that obliged all civil servants to become members of the
government ruling party, Golkar, he decided to join the PDIP and
managed to become a local PDIP politician. Like Sudjarwo, in 2000 his
membership was suspended by the PDIP because of his acceptance of
being proposed as a Vice Mayoral candidate from the PKB, rather than on
the PDIP’s candidate team. The same pattern followed; after the PKB’s
team won the election and Budi Darmawan became Vice Head of the
District, the PDIP saw its interests were in restoring its relation with him
and restored his membership. Then, in 2002, he became much more
powerful after he also stepped up to become the District Head after the
previously elected occupant died. However, his hostile relations with some
members of the PDIP faction led by Basir Suliki, the DPRD Chairman, who
had not voted for him in the 2000 election, remained unsettled. With a
significant role being played by these members, he was impeached by the
District DPRD over an allegation of having been involved in a corruption
scandal which had been charged against the former District Head. The
impeachment, however, was rejected by the Ministry of Home Affairs, so
he remained in his position. However, the conflict between the Executive
and the Legislature did not stop, with both institutions continuing to attack
one another. During this period, the public regarded the Executive’s
relations as the worst ever, “like cat and dog relations”, difficult to get
harmonized.719 Finally, Budi Darmawan got his chance for revenge and
managed to bring Basir Suliki to court on a corruption charge that put him
in jail for four years, as was mentioned earlier. Although Budi Darmawan
had not emerged from a social group with a social status as low as that
from which Sudjarwo had originated from; yet they were similarly lucky
political adventurers who took the most advantage of the democratization.
719
Interview M17.
304
The third example of a new District Head was Pardi Suripno, another civil
servant and a lecturer at a state university during the New Order era. Like
Budi Darmawan, he had been a “by law” Golkar member who then turned
to be a PDIP politician in 1998. As one of the very few educated politicians
of the PDIP in the District of Matur Anyar, he was elected to the leadership
position of Chairman of the District PDIP. After the 1999 election he was
listed as a national legislator and served in the DPR in Jakarta until 2003,
the year when he was proposed by the local PDIP faction as their District
Head candidate for the period of 2003–2008. He did not seem to have
difficulties in winning the election as, beside other reasons, partly but most
importantly he got a “strong back-up from the local businessmen”720.
Indeed, the first impressions that the respondents gave in my interviews
imply that his success in the election was regarded as the victory of the
businessmen who had business interests connected with his position. This
business orientation that Pardi Suripno had played was not unusual to the
people of the District. To the colleagues who knew him when he was at
the university, Pardi Suripno’s business talent was well known because he
was the official who was in charge of the university’s internal corporation
(koperasi universitas). In addition, he was also a financial officer of a real
estate company that had fallen bankrupt during the economic crisis in
1997. A former customer of this real estate company complained about his
success in the election because, in his view, “Pardi Suripno was a
criminal”. According to this former customer, Pardi Suripno had sold the
certificate of his 300 square metre property to a local bank in 1985 without
his consent, so he had taken the company to court.. The case was
suspended with a deliberation721 in which Pardi Suripno promised to give
the certificate back when he got money to buy it back from the bank, but
he never did, so eventually the owner had to repay the money to the bank
himself to get his property’s certificate returned in 2003. The respondent
720
Some other reasons suggested were that it was due to: the large number of the PDIP faction in the Legislature
(seventeen of the total forty-five), he gained a strong support from Golkar with a concession of a Vice District
Head position for Golkar; and he was supported by the military faction that viewed him as a former civil servant
and a former Golkar member, thus not one of the original hardliners of the PDIP who would be too critical of the
military in politics.
721
In the interview, the respondent showed the agreement paper in which Pardi Suripno promised to give the
certificate back, but had never done so. Interviews C151, C15, the respondents being a husband and wife couple
who were interviewed at the same time.
305
said that he was not brave enough to bring the case to the court,
especially since 1998 when Pardi Suripno began to be surrounded and
protected by PDIP bodyguards and activists. The respondent also claimed
that the real estate company where Pardi Suripno became the financial
officer had cheated lots of people in several ways. These included not
paying the land owners from whom the company had bought the land for a
real estate project and by not building the houses for buyers who had paid
deposits but not paying back then, then by using a legal bankruptcy, the
company had ceased to exist and the managers had escaped. So, it was
alleged, Pardi Suripno’s background and personal interests in financial
affairs seemed to have motivated him more than did an interest in
advancing democracy.
These cases of three local legislators and three local executive leaders
are only some examples of the PDIP politicians in East Java with similar
features. As some revealed below, mostly the legislators originated from
marginal groups – with a very low level of economic life and education.
Those who had better educational backgrounds and higher social class,
such as those who became the executive leaders, were very easily
identified because there were only a few of them. Some of the PDIP
politicians were old politicians having been active before the collapse of
the New Order, but most new politicians, the majority, were recruited
through a similar mechanism, that is, in the brief period when the PGR
buildings operated in 1998. They experienced a similarly sudden change
in their economic lives and social status after becoming legislators. Lastly
but more importantly, these backgrounds influenced their political attitudes
and perceptions in that becoming close to the power circle was a powerful
means to escape the poverty and powerlessness they had experienced
before. Therefore, their political considerations were mainly poweroriented, the maintenance of the interactions with the power interests that
would sustain their individual benefits, although this would include
deviating from what their political institution, as well as their constituents,
had expected of them.
306
In the case of the Sumber Yasin District, the conflicts could last years after
the election and broadened the scope and the scale of the conflicts,
although some were limited to the duration of the election activities. In one
version, such as shown by Sudjarwo’s case, an individual politician would
be discharged because he affiliated with and was supported by another
party to contest the position of District Head but this affiliation had been
disapproved by the national leadership. In another version, the local
leadership and the national leadership supported different candidates for
District Head with each side claiming that it was the most rightful authority
to decide. The local leadership insisted that they represented the voices of
the local people, while the national leadership insisted that they
represented the broader interest of the party as an institution.
The election case of the District of Tunggal Redjo, where eleven of the fourteen
members of the PDIP faction in the DPRD local Legislature “were discharged”
(dibebas-tugaskan) in 2002 because of the Bupati election conflict, exemplified a
local-centre conflict. According to Titan Osman, a discharged legislator, the District
branch leadership (DPC/Dewan Pimpinan Cabang) and the PDIP faction in the
DPRD supported Jamroni Kasim, the Chairman of the DPC, to be proposed as
the Bupati candidate. However, he said, the PDIP national leadership
(DPP/Dewan Pimpinan Pusat) instead appointed Sugeng Suleman, who was a
bureaucrat from the neighbouring District and a former Golkar member. My
respondent said that the national DPP tried to force the local PDIP legislators to
vote for Sugeng Suleman as Bupati and for his partner as Vice Bupati candidate,
from the PKB’s team. If this had gone to plan, the fourteen members in the F-DIP
and twelve in the F-KB would collect twenty-six votes from the total forty-five
DPRD members, and so the PKB’s team would win the election. In fact, the pair
gained only fifteen votes because eleven F-DIP members voted for someone
else, Hanif, who was in the candidate pair proposed by Golkar, which then won
the election. The Jakarta leadership of the PDIP viewed the actions of the eleven
PDIP legislators as betraying the institution and discharged them from the PDIP
faction membership as a punishment. Consequently, since the election, the
fourteen722 legislators had been inactive in faction tasks, but “remained being the
legislators for doing nothing, yet got the same salaries as usual”.
Titan Osman said that they had refused to vote for Sugeng Suleman because of
several factors. Firstly, he was not supported by the grassroots of PDIP because
they knew that he was not a genuine PDIP man, but a former Golkar member
who had not proved his loyalty to the PDIP. Besides, he was not originally from the
District, and more importantly he was being accused of being involved in a
722
The remaining three still-PDIP members were too few to have any influence, thus did not attempt to organize
as an active faction.
307
corruption scandal.723 Furthermore, Titan Osman claimed the eleven members of
the PDIP felt very disappointed by the way Sugeng Suleman treated them, which
he described as “inhumanely” (tidak manusiawi). They were held “as if kidnapped”
(kaya’ disandra) for seven days before the election date. The drama started a
week before the election when all of the PDIP legislators of the District were
invited to Jakarta to receive “a direct instruction in order to secure the policy the
central leadership” (in other words, to vote for Sugeng Suleman). The next day
they were brought by a bus which was guarded by the PDIP’s security forces
(SATGAS) to a hotel in Gombong (Central Java) for two days, then were moved
to the Malioboro Hotel (Jogyakarta) for another two days, and then to the Swarna
Hotel in Nganjuk for the last three days before they were dropped again in the
morning of the election date in their District of Tunggal Redjo. While they were
being held they were not allowed to make any contact with anyone either directly
or by phone. Titan Osman said he was wearing a T-shirt for seven days because
he was not allowed to go anywhere outside the hotel. Only when he got home that
morning could he change the clothes. Yet, finally, when he got home he also
found that lots of messages and threats had been sent to his home while he was
away. These had been sent by the grassroots of the PDIP, urging him not to vote
for Sugeng Suleman, “if he does, he and his family would be killed”. He told me,
“Pretend this is a war, the threats of the enemy here [in his District] were much
closer to his home than the threats from Jakarta, therefore I chose to save my
family from the threats of the PDIP grassroots public than to save my political
career from the Jakarta’s threats.” Asked why the central PDIP leadership in
Jakarta chose Sugeng Suleman instead of Jamroni Kasim, he said, “It was mainly
because the lobbying [meaning money] by Sugeng Suleman to Jakarta was much
stronger than that by Jamroni Kasim”.
However, Agus Muzahar, a PKB politician, said that the reasons why these eleven
members of the PDIP did not vote for Sugeng Suleman included the role played
by Hanif and her husband H. Hasbi. She was a former Chairman of the DPRD, a
Chairman of the Tunggal Redjo Golkar, one of the richest businesswomen in the
District and won the election. Sugeng Suleman suspected that these eleven men
received “lots of money” (amplop yang besar) from H. Hasbi in order to vote for
her. He said that Tunggal Redjo “has remained under strong control of Golkar”;
the Chairmanship of the Legislature was occupied by a Golkar member and the
Executive leader was also Golkar. More specifically, he said, politics in Tunggal
Rredjo was controlled by the couple of Hanif and her husband; he controlled the
Government by his economic power while she occupied the position as the
Chairman of Golkar of the District. This situation, he added, had run since the New
Order era; for example, eighty percent of the tenders of the local government’s
development projects were won by the companies the couple owned.
So, if Titan Osman and Agus Muzahar were right, it seems that the central PDIP
in Jakarta, as well as the local legislators, were steered in their decisions by
money, taking different sides to be supported as these depended on the sources
of who gave the money. The degree of their loyalty to their institutions as well as to
723
Sugeng Suleman was serving as the Chief of the District Development Plan, which the respondent said was a
lucrative position.
308
their constituents was very much determined by their economic interests.
Furthermore, each individual or group within the party was so strongly
preoccupied with distrust and suspicion of each other that individual integrity and
moral values were not something to realistically rely on. Therefore, the centre
used the force of ‘kidnapping’ to prevent the legislators from having social
interactions in which the centre suspected that they could be influenced, such as
by being bribed, to disobey the central institutional decision to vote for Sugeng.
Similarly, the grassroots used threats of violence, including being killed, to prevent
the legislators from betraying their constituents’ aspirations. Is this suspicion
realistic? Looking at what most respondents (politicians, military officers,
government officials and local people) said about money politics – that it was real,
and nobody believed that there was an effective mechanism to stop it – then the
answer would be, yes, it is realistic.
Another internal PDIP conflict over a Pilkada happened in Tunggal Redjo’s
nearest neighbouring district, Buluhlawang, in 2003, although, unlike in Tunggal
Redjo, this conflict did not significantly involve the party’s central leadership, but
was mainly among the local legislators. Yet the main reason was very similar, that
some members did not agree with the decision taken by the local leadership, led
by the Chairman of the Buluhlawang District PDIP, to take a former Golkar
member as its Bupati candidate. According to an F-DIP respondent, this Bupati
candidate “was still registered as a member of the Golkar faction of the DPRD” in
a District in a Province outside Java when he approached the F-DIP of
Buluhlawang, expressing his intention to be a candidate through the F-DIP faction.
The respondent said, “Is it logical? ...Where can I put this face?”…therefore,
“although some members begged with tears (datang kerumah saya nangis–
nangis) in order to support him, but I refused it.” Asked the official reasons why the
F-DIP was inclined to take Suwandi as its candidate, he answered, “Lots of
reasons, but the mainstream was only one, that is, he had lots of resources to
grow the party (dia punya banyak harta untuk membesarkan partai).” Yet, he said,
“I had information that he [Bagong Santoso, the PDIP District Chairman who
supported this applicant] was promised a big house, if he [Suwandi] won the
election”. Eight of the fourteen F-DIP legislators, the “Bagong Santoso group”
swore they would resign from their legislature jobs if they failed to get Suwandi to
win the election. In fact, after having found they had failed, they refused to resign,
and this became the source of the conflict between this group of eight and the
remaining six. The six legislators who were not in the Bagong Santoso group
formed a new F-DIP faction and claimed that the existing faction was not
legitimate because they had promised to resign. This dualism in the PDIP faction
had impacts on the daily work of the DPRD, for example, both the two sides
making rival claims about which of them had the right to sign the DPRD’s letters
when all factions were required to do so.724
Internal conflicts within the PDIP either among groups of local members or
between the local and the central leaderships were common in East Java Pilkada
cases during 1998-2003. A Golkar politician, Mudjono, who was a Deputy of the
Chairman of the Mojokerto DPRD, said that the internal conflicts of the PDIP was
724
Interview with the Speaker of the DPRD of Buluhlawang, Interview D86.
309
because the PDIP politicians “lacked maturity in running an organization”
(kurangnya kedewasaan dalam berorganisasi). In the Mojokerto District, the PDIP
was the biggest faction of the DPRD, but during the 2000 Bupati election, only two
of its members voted for the candidates proposed by their faction, the others
supporting others’. Mudjono said Golkar had an interest in seeing the PDIP
internal conflicts continue, so that Golkar could take advantages from this friction.
3.2. PKB: Politicians and party
While most PDIP politicians had been recruited through the PGRs, most PKB
politicians were recruited from Islamic Boarding Schools (pesantren) and their
affiliated Islamic organizations. A common characteristic of the PKB politicians
was that they used the title of ‘K.’ (kyai), a title for Islamic scholars, before their
names. In the Districts around the north-east of East Java for example, where the
PKB became the biggest faction in the DPRD, almost all of the PKB legislators
had the title.725 A kyai was regarded as a religiously highly educated person, and
ideally, an honest and responsible person, or recognized as having a high
standard of moral values in his daily life. Therefore, regardless of the levels of their
economic life, the kyai were socially respected, their words usually trusted, and
their attitudes usually looked on as examples to be followed by others. However,
when they came into and interacted with politics, on one hand, the kyai as social
agents to some extent may have influenced the politics with their religious moral
values, but on the other hand, to a greater extent the politicized kyai were not able
to prevent themselves from being polluted by the fakes and frauds of politics.
According to a respondent who was a legislator in the District of Bandulan, when it
came to “business of the stomach” (urusan perut) the kiyai legislators acted just as
badly as the others who were not kyai, and some of them were even worse than
crowds of “petty extortionists” (korak), corrupt and deceitful.726 The politicized kyai
sometimes used their higher social status to manipulate their followers, and
develop democratically unhealthy politics. As mentioned before, the political
culture that was being developed by the political parties had been similar, that is,
with the use of violence as a major political means. In PKB cases, the burnings of
DPRD buildings in 2000 in Sampang by a PKB mob because of disappointment
with the result of the Bupati election, the 1998/99 Dukun Santet and Ninja
murders, and the burnings of offices belonging to Golkar, PDIP, PAN and PPP at
the end of 2001, these were provoked and organized by some PKB kiyai
politicians.727
Also, the authoritarian culture which the national reformists had wanted to replace
in the first place had been re-cycled by the political party. The conflicts between
725
The northern part of the East Java province was known as the tapal kuda (horseshoe) area where the PKB
was numerically dominant. This area includes the island of Madura which consists of four Districts, and the District
Regencies of Lamongan, Sidoarjo, Pasuruan, Probolinggo, Situbondo, Banyuwangi, Jember and Bondowoso (all
real names). Most of the kyais had graduated from the pesantrens, rather than from secular schools.
726
Interview M80.
727
Interview with the Speaker of DPRD. Interview P60.
310
the democratic values that the PKB had been trying to develop and the very
nature of its traditional decision-making mechanism where patrimonialism and
authoritarianism was inherent became a common problem. The conflict between,
on one hand, the intention to obey the kyai in his decisions which relied mainly on
his personal judgment and, on the other, the spirit of democracy where a decision
is taken through a democratic mechanism, was obviously evident. A lack of
solidarity was another institutional problem. When different kyai had different
political positions, so did their followers. Whether religious matters should be
separated from politics had been a long-standing debate within the PKB, but there
had not yet been a broad agreement among PKB members about whether the
obedience to the kyai would include non-religious political matters.
Despite their good reputations in terms of religious knowledge, the new PKB
politicians’ knowledge and experiences about a modern, democratic political
institution were on the average just as low as those of the PDIP politicians. Internal
conflicts within the PKB regarding the Pilkada, for example, were much the same
as what happened in PDIP; most of the conflicts were resolved, or left unresolved,
by power competitions, rather than democratic-like mechanisms. For example, in
the 2003 Pilkada of Prambanan (pseudonym) District, former-President
Abdurrahman Wahid, as the National Chairman (DPP) of the PKB, disagreed with
the local leadership over which candidate for Bupati would be supported.
According to Ltc.Wardoyo Hasim, a respondent who was a Deputy Chairman of
the Prambanan DPRD, around two months before the election, Gusdur, as PKB
National Chairman, met with Akabar Tanjung, as Golkar National Chairman, in
Prambanan.728 In the meeting it was agreed that the two leaders would support
Cacuk Lamin, a Golkar member with a family background of NU, as their common
Bupati candidate. The PKB central leadership argued that the PKB would need to
support a Golkar candidate because the PKB lacked a capable member to hold
that position, and it was agreed that Cacuk Lamin would have to support the PKB
should he win the election. However, Cacuk Lamin was rejected by the local PKB
legislators who decided to support Abdul Hamid, a PKB member who was the
current DPRD Chairman but strongly ambitious to win the Bupati position. The
stated reasons for the local rejection of Cacuk Lamin were that he was not a PKB
member and was not from the local PKB grassroots. Because of this decision, the
PKB central leadership took away Abdul Hamid’s party membership, but he still
managed to win the election with support from the PAN (National Mandate Party,
a rival to the PKB, linked to the mass organization Muhammadyah, an Islamic
alternative to the NU) and the F-TNI/POLRI.729 Another respondent alleged that
Abdul Hamid was successful because of the role that was played behind the
scenes by Iwayan Bandoro, an East Javanese businessman who was known by
most politicians as one of the strongest financial sponsors for local Heads’
728
As mentioned previously, this meeting was architected by the former Bupati, Col. Maryoto (pseudonym) who,
by inviting them to a wedding party, hoped his efforts would get support from the two Parties for a second term of
office at the next Bupati election. However, at the meeting the two party leaders agreed on a different
arrangement, that Maryoto was not to be supported. The pesantren itself did not support the agreement. The
pesantren leader, instead, asked Golkar faction members to support Abdul Hamid (pseudonym) with a barter
promise that in the 2004 election, all voters under the influence of the pesantren would vote for Golkar. Interview
M88, with the Chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI.
729
As also mentioned in the previous chapter, Gusdur sent a complaining letter to the TNI for this “military
involvement” in its supporting of Abdul Hamid.
311
elections.730 This was confirmed by Wardoyo Hasyim, the Chairman of the FTNI/POLRI in Prambanan, who told me that in the three days of public
examination (uji publik) of the election result, it was reported that there had been
money politics where every legislator who voted for Abdul Hamid received 200
million rupiah (about Aus$ 3,000) provided by Iwayan Bandoro.731 Although,
unfortunately, the case could never be proved because of lack of evidence, the
public had their stereotype about the mentality of politicians reinforced. So, it was
again evident that money was believed to strongly determine the decisions of
party members in their political actions.
Another example of the local-central conflicts of the PKB was shown by the
differences in the 2003 East Java Governor’s election where the Party did not
have a unified voice over the candidate to be supported. While the grassroots
wanted to promote a PKB member, the central leadership was not so confident
about the capability of the PKB member being proposed for the position so
decided to name a retired military officer as the candidate.732 As a result, the PKB
members’ positions were divided and this contributed to its failure to win the
election.733
The lack of self-confidence among the parties about their own members’ ability to
occupy bupati/mayor positions was due to the fact that they were not yet ready to
take over the positions after the sudden collapse of the New Order. Despite an
enormous number of mass supporters who sustained the power of some wellknown reformist leaders at the national level, such as Abdurrahman Wahid (PKB),
Megawati (PDIP), or Amin Rais (PAN), such leaders lacked local followers who
had ready-to-use bureaucratic-related capabilities to run local government without
support from the previous New Order’s former bureaucrats. The case of
Prambanan (pseudonym) District described above is one among only a few cases
where the parties’ members were confident to take the local governments’ top
positions. The common feature however was that both PDIP and PKB relied very
much on the former New Order officials. One of the strategies that the parties
made to cope with this shortage of human resources was by limiting the
occupation by their own members to the deputy positions, such as Vice Bupati or
Vice Mayors, and putting up former bureaucrats or retired military officers for the
first positions in the name of their parties. The cases of Mangliawan and Sumber
Yasin Districts described above exemplify this approach. Moreover, in those two
cases where candidates were proposed by the local PKB faction and won the
election, none in those elected to either the first or second positions were
genuinely PKB members. In Mangliawan, the Bupati was a former Golkar
member who had been a lecturer in the state university and the Vice Bupati was a
730
Another respondent also mentioned his name as the main supporter of the elected Mayor in Matur Anyar
(pseudonym), Pardi Suripno (pseudonym). Interview M82.
731
Interview M88.
732
The central PKB decided to take retired Maj. General A Kahfi as the Party’s Governor candidate, and ignored
the aspiration at the grassroots that wanted to promote Syaifullah Yusuf, the National Chairman of Banser, the
NU youth militia.
733
The F-KB as well as Golkar claimed that they were solid, so it was not sure which members did not vote
according to the instruction.
312
PDIP politician, while in Sumber Yasin the Mayor was a retired military officer and
the Vice Mayor was, again, a PDIP politician.
So, the features of mass political participation and the under-developed
level of political institutionalization were still two major problems in building
a strong democratic institution, which could not be resolved simply by a
military withdrawal from politics. The long term result of both processes, a
relatively unchanged level and nature of political participation as well as an
unsettled institutionalization of the political parties, might be a chronic
public distrust towards the civilian political system. Eventually, this could
converge with the anti-politician attitude of the military. When it comes to a
perceived growing need for a stable political system that the military
appeared to be ready to offer, the public might not only accept to the
strengthening of the military in politics, but also might possibly support it.
In this perspective, it is quite relevant to recall a theoretical assertion
(discussed in Chapter Two pp. 26-28) that the inability of the civilian
politics to provide an effective control over the military would be also
because of the inability of the civilian politicians to satisfy the public with
effective, stable politics, instead of solely because of the political ambitions
from the military.
4. Money politics problems and post-election implications
It would be a mistake, however, to see the internal conflicts within the Parties over
the candidates for District Heads as purely caused by differences in political
perceptions – between promoting the Parties’ own cadres but with a bigger risk of
being defeated on one hand, and accepting non-cadres who are more likely to win
on the other. This reasoning was mixed up with motivations of politicians to pursue
their personal interests. In some cases, it appeared that this second motive
dominated the first. Again, the cases of Tunggal Redjo, Buluhlawang, and
Prambanan exemplified this.
The process of democratization, including the withdrawal of the military from the
local politics, had impacts on the quality of a local election, its process and the new
leaders that it produced, thus usually had implications for post-election
governance in the District. Theoretically, if the new local leaders were produced by
fair and democratic elections, they would be more able to bring new hopes for a
better quality of democracy in the local governance. In comparison, those who
313
came to power through a process flawed by such as money politics, deceitful
campaigns or conspiracy may be less able to do so; having to devote some part
of their power to provide appropriate satisfaction to those involved in the flaws or to
keep them hidden, at the expense of democracy. East Java’s District elections
demonstrated such a wide range in degree of democratic quality that it is nearly
impossible to neatly classify them, but they generally stood somewhere in
between the two extremes of perfectly democratic and completely flawed. The
military withdrawal from formal parliamentary politics had moved them away from
the New Order model of non-democratic elections towards, but still far from,
perfectly democratic elections.
As revealed, protests over the results of the District elections were common in
East Java. These included various allegations, usually that the winners had been
involved in money politics734, falsifying documents735 and/or other corruption
scandals736. Also there were disputed procedures737. However, although most
protests failed to revoke the results, the tensions continued. In some cases the
installation of elected leaders was delayed for months,738 in others the situations
developed into destructive relations between the competing groups, as obviously
demonstrated in the Sumber Yasin and Sumberwaras cases discussed.
As described previously, in the New Order regime, the executive generally
dominated the relations, with the legislature functioning mainly as a “rubber stamp”
to justify and “democratically” legitimate most of the policies issued by the
executive. Under the new civilian leaders there have been four variations of
relations found in different Districts of East Java: “executive domination”,
“legislature domination”, “collusive” and “conflicting”. This study suggests that each
of these variations was very strongly connected to the elections that produced the
leaders. An “executive domination” indicated an insignificant change from the old
pattern prevailing during the previous regime. In the District of Tunggal Redjo, as
one F-KB respondent described it above; Golkar kept dominating the local politics.
The latest District Head election for the period of 2001-2006 was won by Golkar,
thus maintaining its grip on power by occupying the legislative leadership position
of the Chairman of the DPRD and the executive leadership Bupati position. As
described previously, although in the 1999 election the PDIP became the biggest
faction (with fourteen seats) and the PKB the second biggest (twelve), eleven of
the PDIP legislators joined the Golkar group along with the rest of the legislature’s
members, and left the PKB alone as a small group of opposition. Two thirds of the
legislature’s members were “loyal supporters” of the current executive leader. The
spouse of the Bupati was a big business person in this district, and “he could buy
734
For example, Jember (Interview P46), Banyuwangi (Interview M55), or Probolinggo Regency (Interview M88).
For example, Pasuruan Regency. Interview M99.
736
For example, Jember Regency. Interview B47.
737
For example, in Sampang, the election result was challenged because one voter of the winning group had
been issued with a resignation letter by the Minister of Home Affairs, but this had not yet been followed up by the
Sampang DPRD. The dispute was whether he did or did not have a right to vote. Interview P58. See also
document about the decision of Surabaya Court on the Sampang Bupati Election Dispute. The front cover of this
document is shown in Appendix 15.
738
In Districts such as Jember, Banyuwangi, Pamekasan, Sampang, Tulungagung or Pasuruan the
inaugurations of the elected leaders were delayed several months because of the protests. Interviews P46, M55,
K58, B96 and M99 (All respondents were members of the respective Districts’ DPRD).
735
314
the loyalty even from the members of the opponent parties. The only difference
between the previous and the current regime is in terms of the means – while the
previous regime used oppression, the current one used money – but in the pattern
of the relations they are the same, that is, the executive dominates the relations.739
In “legislature domination” it was found that the legislators went too far, intervening
even into non-political, bureaucratic technicalities with, frequently, these
interventions being ill-motivated and self-interested. For example, the Malang
Regency was described by several respondents as being in this category
because the Legislature was so dominant that it was difficult for the Executive
leader, the Bupati, to initiate and implement development projects within the time
expected. He was originally elected to be Deputy Bupati but had assumed power
because the Bupati had died. My respondents described him as being far less
capable than the previous District Head in terms of leadership, educational and
political background. He was in many ways not supported by the faction of his
own party, the F-DIP, because he had been proposed for the position by the FKB. The Speaker of the Regency DPRD, who was a PKB local leader, was so
dominant in controlling him mainly because he was a powerful politician who had
organised the rise of the new Bupati into that position. The respondents also
complained that some legislators intervened too deep into the “technicalities of
bureaucracy” (hal–hal teknis birokrasi), including into the career development of
some of the lower level officials.740
In an area where the executive-legislative relations were marked by “Collusion”,
the two institutions managed to agree to carry out unpopular policies for the selfinterested benefits of both sides. The Government of the District of Ponorogo, for
example, was headed by a former Golkar bureaucrat who came to power in the
2000 election with the support of the PDIP, one of whose members occupied the
position of DPRD Speaker. The collusion described by a respondent was
between these two, the District Head and the Speaker. The respondent said that
several times in DPRD meetings he had tried to criticize the Executive for not
being transparent in the development projects but had always been told by his
own faction leader to stop criticizing because some DPRD leaders were
individually involved in those projects.741
Where there were “Conflicting relations” the legislators used their controlling role
destructively, such as in exaggerating the Executive’s mistakes without offering
any solutions but with the main aim to topple the existing Executive leaders, while
the Executive did not respond properly to the complaints advanced by the
legislators; both sides using power approaches and arrogance instead and failing
to solve their differences. The cases of Surabaya and Sampang, for example, fell
within this category.
739
Interview K75.
Interviews B12, M15, B14 (all officials of the Malang Regency Government).
741
Interview M51.
740
315
As argued above, money politics and unresolved political conflicts could hinder the
attempts to establish local democratic elections, to produce the best qualified
leaders, and for the new leaders to perform their best leadership - all of which are
needed for developing an effective democratic system in post-New Order
Indonesia. It may be argued about whether there was a cause-and-effect relation
between the military political withdrawal and such imperfect attitudes of the
politicians or they were mainly coincidental. However, looking at the post-election
implications having been mentioned above it would not be difficult to agree that
the withdrawal of the military from politics has not resulted in, and will not
automatically produce a strong, effective and democratic political system. This is
much more complex than simply a matter of withdrawing the military from politics
which provided necessary but not sufficient conditions.
Furthermore, many decisions within a faction or party were made through power
approaches, rather than in democratic ways. The persons or groups that hold
stronger, including higher positional, power within the party tended to impose their
views upon the others. This simply recycled the previously prevailing authoritarian
decision-making process which had been intended to be replaced, rather than
developing a full and open democratic one. As many politicians found themselves
powerless within such an organizational mechanism, they attempted to exercise
their power outside the institutional arrangements, such as by secretly affiliating
individually with other, including opposing, groups, thereby sacrificing their loyalty
to their party institutions. Both the authoritarianism tendency and the individual
bypassing weakened the evolution of democratic institutions needed to produce
better democratic standards in the practices of politics. The quality of the
outcomes of future elections will depend greatly on the improvement of the
political attitudes of the civilian politicians to become more mature democratically.
6. Conclusion
The discussion about political participation above highlighted the feature of
public
participation
in
politics
exemplified
by
the
PGR,
“Party
Communication Post”, case discussed in Chapter Five. It appeared that
the nature of participation had not been able to significantly depart from
what Huntington described as “praetorian society” – in which the social
forces expressed their political actions “directly and nakedly [and mostly
destructively] without an effective political system to mediate them”.742
Although the period around the last year of the New Order and the first
years of the post-New Order demonstrated new characteristics of the
742
In a “praetorian society”, Huntington said, “every element of the society is politicized”. See Chapter Two. In
Indonesia, there was a politicized military, politicized university and politicized students, politicized religious clerics
(ulama) and boarding house schools (pesantrens), and politicized labourers.
316
participation – slightly higher and yet disorderly, in general, the level of
political participation remained low, and the majority remained passive and
sceptical toward politics.
In terms of the institutionalization of political parties, the study suggests
that two important factors, the parties’ internal solidarity and autonomy,
remained
difficult
challenges
in
the
efforts
of
“political
institutionalization”,743 an important process by which a strong and
effective political system is established. In many ways, the interplay
between the short-term individual economic motives of the politicians and
the patrimonial traditions inherited in the political culture strongly
influenced the lack of solidarity and autonomy of the political parties. So,
the roots of the problems were similar to those the described cases of
public political participation have indicated. How can the interconnection of
these two factors be explained? The findings of this study indicate that the
prevailing political culture determined that the politics commanded the
economy, so being involved in politics was seen as the way to be closer to
the power that controlled the economic resources. Therefore, in order to
be able to maximize the achievement, considerations for political actions,
including political attachments, followed what appeared to best serve the
economic interests; and this far exceeded that loyalty to the institution
which would be a prerequisite for the institution’s solidarity. Similarly, the
institutional autonomy was easily undermined by external forces’
intervention simply because the individuals who ran the institutions had
connections of economic interest with the external interest groups.744
743
Huntington, for example, outlines four factors of political institutionalization: Cohesiveness, Flexibility,
Complexity and Autonomy. See Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies, (New Haven: Yale University,
1968), pp. 12-24.
744
In my personal communication with Jim Schiller, a leading Flinders University scholar on Indonesian local
politics, Schiller suggested that the view of post-Soeharto democracy in this study that seems to show a lack of
moral standards in politicians is not worse than moral standards in other Asian democracies, in the military and
bureaucracy under Soeharto, in the US or France or Italy. He argued that democratization in Indonesia occurred
because of the sudden collapse of Soeharto’s New Order regime, while the democratizers or reformists who took
over the political control lacked a reform plan and adequate democratic experiences, while they had also to take
over all problems of the country left by the New Order. So, in a more optimistic view, as in time the politicians will
get more experience in establishing and running a well-functioning democratic system, so they will eventually be
able to provide a better civilian control over the military and to prevent the return of the military to its previous
political domination.
317
As noted in the section about the political participation above, violent types
of political pressures could be counter-productive to the long-term efforts
of building a democratic society, an essential condition to establish civilian
control over the military. Not only could it simply make the silent majority
that was frequently deprived by the actions unsympathetic to the actions, it
could also force them to accept or approve repressive state actions toward
the mass movements, thus providing de facto justification for the
repression as it was done under the banner of “public interest”. As the
result, the seeds of democracy would be difficult to grow and develop.
Therefore, improving civilian political institutions that would be able to
effectively accommodate, organize and process the growing public
participation into positive and constructive forces will be needed to
produce an effective, democratic civilian political system impervious to
various kinds of military political intervention.
318
Chapter Twelve
DEMILITARIZATION OF LOCAL POLITICS, DEPOLITICIZATION OF
THE MILITARY AND DEMOCRATIZATION IN EAST JAVA:
ANALYSIS OF FINDINGS
1. Introduction
For many of those who care about the role of the Indonesian military in
politics, the collapse of Suharto’s New Order regime in 1998 instigated
curiosity and concerns about the impacts that subsequent political change
would have on that role. It had played a long-standing and systematic
political role in that regime. What would happen in military politics? What
would be the new roles of the military in politics? Soon afterwards it
became clear from many studies that the most central issue of military
politics in post-Suharto Indonesia was the complete withdrawal of the
military from politics. Nevertheless, many questions related to this issue
remain unanswered or unsatisfactorily answered. As noted earlier, most
studies did not explore the issue deeply into the local cases where the
military politics in Indonesia has been systematically ingrained for a long
time. Therefore, the specific aim of this study was to explain the process
and impact of this withdrawal at the local level: on local military, on local
politics, on the newly democratic content of local civil-military relations,
and on the form and quality of the establishing of the new democracy.
Relying mainly on extensive primary data collected in East Java over the
year from February 2002 to February 2003, the study focuses carefully on
the Indonesian military politics of a specific place and time. A description
and analysis of the relations between the military and politics in East Java
from 1998 to 2003 is reported in the previous seven case-study chapters.
The case of this major province of Indonesia can contribute many insights
to answering broader questions, such as how and why Indonesian military
politics has changed in the way it has, and what has been achieved or is
likely to be achieved in efforts to reform this military.
319
This chapter will provide summaries of the elements of the case study
which have been presented in detail in the preceding chapters and
conclude with a final analysis.
Chapter Five, the first case study chapter, examined how local events
around the collapse of the military-backed New Order regime in mid-1998
affected military-society relations preceding the subsequent withdrawal.
The discussion of Chapter Six described and evaluated the institutional
reforms, the core of the withdrawal policy, which dismantled the
systematic involvement of the New Order’s military in politics at the local
level. The next two chapters examined the impacts on the local
involvements of the military in real political activities, in which it had been
dominant, by analysing the political roles and influence of the local military
in attempting to manipulate the outcomes of the post-1998 local elections
(Pilkada). Chapters Nine and Ten reported the impact of the withdrawal on
local military – both on karya officers (previously) appointed to non-military
jobs and on military territorial units whose defence and security jobs were
connected closely to local political affairs – to illuminate some of the
problems in establishing an apolitical, professional military. Chapter
Eleven completed the report of the case study by observations on the
civilian side of local politics, involving the general society, elites and
political parties, to more clearly provide for understanding what is needed
for the establishment of strong and effective civilian political institutions in
the absence of the military. The following sections will summarize these
seven case-study chapters.
2. Military-society relations preceding the withdrawal745
…we [the officers and soldiers] did not want to be unnecessary
heroes (pahlawan kesiangan); …we do not want to be blamed for
violating human rights and…victimized for the favour of the elite;…If
our commanders cannot protect themselves from the Human Rights
745
As mentioned this section is based on the material in Chapter Five.
320
charges, there was no way they would protect us, if we commit
similar offences.746
The economic and political catastrophe that provoked the collapse of the
New Order regime in mid-1998 led many East Javanese people to carry
out various forms of action to express their angers. Labourers held
massive strikes; demonstrators ransacked and occupied government
offices, then forced local government and village leaders to resign; mobs
attacked the Chinese community; villagers unlawfully reclaimed state
lands, and mysterious Ninja killers murdered hundreds of accused
sorcerers (Dukun Santet), then mobs inhumanely killed hundreds of those
suspected of being Ninja members. These state-society or communal
tensions and conflicts at the local level – where the people had lost trust or
fear of coercive measures posed by the (military) government authority,
while the soldiers and officers were not only restrained from using its
coercive power747 but also demonstrated a disastrous failure of security
management in maintaining law and order – are just small pieces of the
complex features of the political circumstances in which a dramatic
change in military politics in Indonesia was occurring.
The quotations at the start of this section clearly suggest a feeling of loss
of self-confidence among soldiers and officers at the local unit level when
facing the rioting just mentioned. Such a feeling seems to have been the
same reason why the orders from the higher commands to deploy the
troops were received late or after riots had happened; as one respondent
said, “the higher commanders’ unwillingness to take responsibility
because of fear of human rights violation charges.” In fact, the officers and
soldiers in the lower (field) units could feel how their higher leaders were
very nervous from “too many warnings” from the Headquarters. As
reported in my interviews with them, they were warned to remain on base
to avoid being accused or caught as a suspected Ninja killer, to keep a
746
See footnote 63, 64, p. 104.
As noted earlier, in fact, the ransacked Camat office in Rengel was located next to the Sub-district Military
Command Headquarters (Koramil); the mobs came into and threatened to burn down the Koramil in Kencong,
Jember when searching for Chinese who were allegedly hiding inside the headquarters; many unilateral landreclaims by local people even included the military’s training areas such as in Malang and Pasuruan.
747
321
number of troops on the base to prevent attacks by the mobs, to avoid
wearing military attributes on clothes, cars or motorcycles in public
appearances, and to prioritize “securing the military units and personnel
first” before trying to stop the riots.748 Meanwhile, at the local leadership
level there was a lack of clarity of instructions regarding changing
operational procedures after the transfer of the Control and Command
(Kodal) of security operations from the military commander to the police
chief on 14 May 1998. As some local military and police respondents told
me, the field commanders were not only confused by the new procedures,
but there were also cases of subtle competition between the military and
the police about who would be in charge of the “security funds” (dana
taktis komandan).749
On the other hand, as expressed by some of the local officers and
soldiers, in the 1998 chaos the soldiers were too “reluctant (ogah-ogahan),
sick (muak) and bored (bosan)” to carry out the security operations; some
of them even sharing social jealousy with local people against the
Chinese. Moreover, resentment toward the civilians’ reform demands
made the military more apathetic (instead of concerned) about security
issues. When I asked why the military did not take firm steps to prevent or
stop the riots, a respondent replied, “Let them [people] know what they got
from the reform era”, that they would not be able to solve their problems
“without us [the military]”, and that they did not really want us “to go back
to barracks.” Several thought this would make the civilians learn to
appreciate them.
Also important was, as a respondent said, that no one was sure about two
controversial rumours: whether the rioters were the reformist groups who
were attacking the New Order’s elements of power, or were New Order
loyalists, including the military, orchestrating the riots in trying to discredit
the reform movements. “We were confused”…and what was important at
748
Indeed, as military respondents in some local units reported, there had been some small incidents between
local communities and the soldiers as they passed through civilian areas.
749
More about this case of military-police separation will be dealt with later.
322
that time was “how to secure myself and my family”, because “nobody
(else) would, not even the commanders would”.750 So, caution or
reluctance to act seemed to be the common local choice to secure
themselves in the uncertain situations, and this choice became the main
characteristic of the military attitude at the local level post-1998. This may
be an important clue to why the military did not take firm actions against
people’s actions during 1998/1999.
The change in military-society relations was also symbolized by emergence of
versions of “grassroots democracy”, such as shown by the mushrooming of the
“PDIP-colored”, red and black, Mutual Aid Communication Post shelters called
PGR (Posko Gotong Royong). As instructed by Megawati Sukarnoputri, the
Chairwoman of PDIP, in August 1998 PDIP members built tens of thousands of
PGR shelters on the sides of roads, in some places only about two hundred
metres or less apart, on the corners of town squares or near train stations,
markets or in the villages’ centres, and even in unused yard spaces of public
buildings. Many pedicab drivers, street vendors, unskilled labourers, unemployed,
homeless or beggars were recruited as new PDIP members through the PGR. In
the 1999 election the PGR activities clearly demonstrated a great mobilization of
the grassroots and contributed significantly to the success of the PDIP in
becoming the largest party, partly due to the attractiveness of the platform it
presented of being the “party of the little people” (wong cilik).
Many of those who managed the construction of the PGR shelters were
recruited from the groups traditionally regarded by the military or police as
sources of criminals, therefore the existence of the PGR were viewed
suspiciously and cynically by the military. The criticism by an Islamic
activist that the name ‘Posko’ sounded like a military term was shared by
military respondents who were concerned about the use of the word
Posko which in the abbreviations of Indonesian military terminology means
“Command Post” and regarded them as being “a rebellious (but chaotic)
way” to challenge the existence of the military territorial command.751
750
751
Footnote 65, p. 104.
See Chapter Five, pp. 108-110.
323
Despite these concerns, the military in East Java did not take any
significant steps to deal with the PGR as the officers and the soldiers at
the local level were uncertain about how to cope with them as they were
established under the banner of reform and democratization.752 The
mushrooming of PGR shelters and their activities appeared independent
from the control of the military. This made the military anxious about an
emergence of a strong group of social forces that would resist the
continued involvement of the military in politics, and indirectly increased
the pressure for the military withdrawal from politics.
So, widespread de-legitimization of the New Order regime, including its
military, turned over the military-society relations; the military’s control
weakened significantly over the local society which, correspondingly,
gained stronger power. The almost collapse of law and order locally, the
de-legitimization and demoralization of the military and the emergence of
the local grassroots-like politics show that defending the New Order
regime by the military would be politically unrealistic. Instead, the decision
to withdraw from politics was probably thought to stop the near-anarchic
situation from developing, to save the country and the military’s image
from worsening much further and thus to limit the loss of the military’s
political power. Yet, precisely in what ways that situation influenced the
military leaders’ political perceptions in Jakarta to initiate the withdrawal
policies will need further study.
3. Institutional Reforms753
Although in 1998/1999 public pressure reduced the previous effectiveness
of the New Order’s instruments of power as mentioned earlier, most of
their main components – the military, bureaucracies, and Golkar – were
still well in place. As Chapter Six documented, the military’s systematic
752
753
Footnote 89, p. 110.
This section based mainly on the material of Chapter Six.
324
and formal involvement in politics was reduced only after these machines
began to be dismantled in 1999 through the so-called “TNI’s Internal
Reform” (reformasi internal TNI).754 The reform involved a wide range of
policies. Those readily identifiable and prominent at the local level
included the abolition of the political functions previously attached to the
military territorial units, the withdrawal of military officers from their civilian
positions in the local governments, and the reduction (and then abolition in
2004)
of
the
military-appointed
representatives
in
the
local
parliaments/DPRD. In addition to these internal reforms were the
decentralization-related policies that changed the structure of local
government bureaucracy and were complementary to the TNI’s Internal
Reform.
Chapter Three described the organizational elements attached to the
territorial units that were assigned political roles during the New Order era.
As analysed in Chapter Six, these organizational elements, which included
the Staf Sospol, Wansopol, Bakorstada and Litsus, were liquidated in the
early post-New Order period.
The Staf Sospol (Social Political Staff), one of five main Staff Structures
directly under the Chief of Staff of the Territorial Command, Koter,755
which was responsible for coordinating the political roles of the Koter, was
replaced by Komsos (Social Communication) from April 1, 1999. Its level
of authority was reduced by two levels, at Kodam level for example, from a
Colonel-headed staff section to a Major-headed sub-section subordinate
to the Territorial Staff. The staff numbers were also reduced by more than
half. Similar reductions were made to the lower levels of Koter, such as
Korem and Kodim. This reduction, not elimination, had a significant
impact, despite some limitation. According to former staff officers of Staf
Sospol, unlike the past Staf Sospol which “controlled” the members of the
DPRD’s military faction, the F-TNI/ POLRI, the Komsos sub-section simply
754
755
Detail of reform elements are presented in Chapter Five, Table V. 1, p. 113.
The organizational structure of Koter is presented in Chapter Three, Table III 1, p. 52.
325
helped administrative aspects of the factions and was much less active
than the former Sospol.756 So, its function had been narrowed.
Another element that was eliminated was the Board of Sospol (at Kodam
Wansospolda, at Korem Wansospolrem), through which Territorial top
leaders, as the Heads and members of Wansospol, determined which
personnel would occupy the positions of District Bupati, Mayor or other
civilian
positions
in
government.757
Without
Wansospol
territorial
commanders could still play their political roles in the Bupati or Mayor
elections, but, as discussed in Chapters Seven and Eight, their political
influences had become very much limited. Lastly, those of Koter’s political
elements abolished in 2000 with the broadest political influences758 were
the regional level Bakorstada (at national level Bakorstanas) and the
political screening bodies or Litsus.759 Although de facto Bakorstada and
Litsus had already effectively ceased to operate in 1998/1999 before they
were formally eliminated,760 their formal abolition closed the possibility of
reviving and restoring them in the future.761
While the removal of political elements attached to the military formally
depoliticized the military institutions, the withdrawal of military officers from the
civilian local bureaucracies (Pemda) and the reduction of (in 2004 elimination of)
military seats in local parliaments (DPRD) formally demilitarized the civilian political
institutions.
756
The limitation was however, as suggested by an officer working in this section, that Komsos “still follows the
same job description” as Staf Sospol. Also, many civilian (politician) respondents told me that they were linked to
the Territorial Assistant or the Pangdam by Komsos and Territorial Staff in seeking support from Kodam in the
case of Bupati or Mayoral Elections. See footnote 7, p. 123.
757
Wansospol is described in Chapter Three, pp. 55-56.
758
As described in Chapter Three, pp. 54-55, Bakorstada’s very wide responsibilities included all aspects (social,
political, economic, religious, or cultural) that were deemed important to the maintenance of national stability and
resilience.
759
See pp. 125.
760
See land conflicts discussed in Chapter Five for example.
761
As noted in p. 127, this abolition had never been outlined in the military internal-reform programs as the military
have never thought that the “latent communist threats” (these bodies were aimed to prevent them) had
diminished. Looking at how easy it was (there was no significant evidence of resistance by the military) when
President Wahid abolished these institutions, by issuing a Presidential Decree, one could consider how weak the
military’s political position was at that time.
326
As reported earlier, karya officers (those who occupied civilian jobs) were
instructed to choose one of three choices: to come back to their military units; to
retire early; or to change their status from military to being civil servants.762 Those
in the positions of local government leaders as Bupatis or Mayors mostly chose to
be retired early and run for a second term in elections for a second five-year
period in office. However, only two of the eighteen of them in East Java in fact
managed to extend their positions into the second term. Most officers who were
not in the government leadership positions returned to their military units, while a
small number of officers became civil servants. As the result, by mid-August 2000,
in East Java there were no longer any active military officers serving as the Heads
of local government executives (except Col. Indarto, the Bupati of Tuban, who
retired in 2001) and there were no longer any officers assigned to the Heads of
staff in East Java District governments.
So, the implementation of the policy of withdrawal from civilian institutions
actually did abolish the military’s presence and direct control over the local
government executives’ policies – through which political power and
economic resources were directed. In other words, the withdrawal also
reduced the central military’s control over local politics. Moreover, as the
local executive dominated local politics, withdrawal from the local
executive leader positions meant also a decline in the military’s control
over other local institutions such as the legislative and judiciary bodies.
For example, in the Muspida, an informal forum where the leaders of local
institutions met, the position of the Bupati or Mayor was very strong.763
Now, under civilian leadership, the Muspida still exist, but the military (the
Dandim being the only military officer left in the forum) can no longer
dominate or steer the forum.
Compared to the relatively rapid withdrawal of the military from executive
government jobs, the withdrawal from parliament took a longer process,
762
As page 128 noted, this is the Instruction: No. Kep/03/P/II/1999 of the Commander in Chief of the Armed
Forces, General Wiranto, signed on 15 February 1999.
763
Previously, the structure of formal authority at the district level, for example, was clearly characterized by the
strong top-down hierarchical control by the Bupati or Mayor who was also usually the most senior Colonel among
other Heads of local institutions. A retired-military officer who was the Speaker of a local Assembly’s F-ABRI in
1998 reported that until 1998 “everything was determined by the Mayor” (Pak Wali) see footnote 35, p. 130.
327
involving two steps. After their number was halved (from 20% to 10 % of
the total DPRD members) in the 1999 election, the military representatives
(F-TNI/POLRI) were eliminated in the 2004 election. (The second step is
not covered by this study). The halving of the F-TNI/POLRI numbers made
the faction much weaker after the 1999 election, compared for example to
factions such as the F-DIP or F-KB which occupied around a half or, in
some districts, even took around two-thirds of the total seats. Besides,
because of the termination of its alliance with Golkar, the military families
and relatives were also removed from the Golkar faction. In addition, my
data shows that after 1999 there have been no military officers serving as
the Speaker of the DPRD or the Chairman of DPRD Committees in any
district of East Java. It also seems that since 1999 the positions as the
members of F-TNI/POLRI became less important for the military. The jobs
that before 1999 were filled by Lieutenant Colonels (middle rank officers)
who had considerable political experience and knowledge, after 1999 were
occupied mainly by Majors and Captains, even First and Second
Lieutenants, the lowest rank of military officers, who had very little, or no,
previous experience in the practices of politics. Although still around
twenty percent were Lieutenant Colonels, mostly they were about to retire.
Also, some of the F-TNI/POLRI members did not view their DPRD jobs as
requiring them to follow the “sistem komando” (the command system),
referring to having to work for the interests of the institutions.764 Lastly,
there was an increasing resistance by the public to the existence of any
military in the DPRD. For example, in the DPRD of Malang City and of
Ponorogo Regency, the F-TNI/POLRI was left out of the DPRD meetings
with local people as requested by these people. (See sub-section3.2. of
Chapter Six)
Considering all of those factors that were important in minimizing the
military’s political power in the DPRD, some civilian politicians seem to be
764
As noted, Lieutenant Colonel (Police) Dwi Usyanto, stressed the nature of the appointment as military
assignments (penugasan) in suggesting that the faction members have to follow the instructions, while Lieutenant
Colonel Paulus argued that the role of being a representative of the people because “they are members of a
DPRD/Local House of People’s Representatives), not perwakilan militer (representatives of the military)”. See
footnotes 52 and 53, pp. 134-135.
328
correct when, for example, Bambang Priyo Utomo, a Golkar politician of
Malang City described the post-1999 F-TNI/ POLRI members as “much
less solid and more individual-oriented”…“more ignorant of public
aspirations”,…even as “(they) ignored the aspirations of the military units”,
or when Mashuri Abdul Rochim, a senior Golkar politician in Batu
Municipality, said they were “too innocent” (terlalu lugu), and “too
conservative”, “much less skilful politically” than the current civilian
politicians. As will be mentioned more in the later summary section about
the bupati/mayor elections, this deterioration was also caused by conflicts
of interests among the military elements that limited their solidarity.
Institutional reforms to separate the military from political institutions were
also affected in several ways by the decentralization programs brought
about by the new Autonomy Law No. 22/1999. Firstly, the Law that
restructured the local government structures replaced the military-created
political office (Kansospol) within the local government with the Bakesbang
which was no longer given political authority to monitor the political
activities of the government employees, political parties or organizations,
and societies. An official of the Bakesbang of Malang Regency told me
that the liquidation of the Kansospol “diminished the military’s political
channel” in the bureaucratic structure.765 Secondly, because the new
Autonomy Law gave the legislature stronger control over the executive, it
became difficult for the local military to get financial assistance for the
provision of security directly from the executive (more about this will be
discussed later). Thirdly, the new Law changed the rules of the local
elections which, as also considered later, minimized the roles and ability of
the military in steering the outcomes of the elections. Fourthly, the new
Law authorizes District Governments to communicate directly with the
Central Government without passing through or the consent of the
Provincial Government. This reduced the power of the Provincial
765
Although, as noted, some degree of intelligence coordination through the FKI (Intelligence
Coordination Forum) preserves some of the military’s direct channel in the Bakesbang, as a staff
member of the Bakesbang of Malang Regency said, the Forum is “much less intensive than when
Kansospol existed” and “the scope of relations has been very much limited compare with the old
Kansospol”. For more detail see pp. 138.
329
Government officials, as well as of (Provincial) Pangdam, in many internal
matters of the Districts.766
These three institutional reforms, the abolition of political elements within
the territorial structures, the withdrawal of the military from local
bureaucracies and DPRD, and the decentralization, were crucial in reestablishing stricter boundaries between the military and the civilian
political institutions and cut down the military’s direct political roles.
4. Impacts on military involvement in Pilkada elections767
A few months before the Pilkada [in Sumberwaras] was held, we
came to the Kodam [to meet a senior officer] to request that Kodam
guarantee that F-TNI/POLRI members vote on our side as the
biggest faction [F-KB], and as a concession we would accept [vote
for] any military man appointed by Kodam as bupati candidate if he
was proposed through F-KB.768
Involvement in the Pilkada was crucial for the military politics in the New Order era
because, as suggested in Chapter 3, this helped maximize control over the top
and strategic positions in local politics, thus over all aspects of local power; social,
political, economic or security. Therefore, in fact, the military had dominated all
stages of the election.769 Chapter Seven shows how this military power in the
Pilkada declined because of some interrelated factors in the broader development
of political change since 1998. In contrast to the period pre-May 1998 when
nineteen out of the thirty seven Districts in East Java were headed by military
officers, in the first five-year period of the reform only three retired military officers,
and no active-duty officers, were elected. (See Table VII.2).
766
As reported sub-section 4.4 the Kodam could not replace the military representatives in several districts
although the officers had been retired but the DPRD refused the replacement because it would “affect the local
balance of power in the DPRD”. As also reported earlier, in the TMD/TNI Masuk Desa (Soldiers Go into the
Villages) programs, some DPRD refused to support the financial needs of the programs as requested by the
Kodam.
767
This section mainly based on the more detailed material in Chapters Seven and Eight.
768
Interview with Success Team of F-KB (for the 2000 Pilkada) in Sumberwaras in June 2003.
769
A detailed description of these stages is presented in Chapter Seven, Diagram VII. 1, p. 148.
330
An early change of the military role in the Pilkada was observable in two
cases, the Pilkada in the District of Sumbersari held soon after B. J.
Habibie took over the Presidency in May 1998, and another in Ngadiredjo
shortly after Abdurrahman Wahid had replaced him in October 1999.
A public rejection of all nominated candidates successfully forced the
Sumbersari DPRD to agree to restart the election process.770 For the first
time after thirty-two years, twenty-six applicants were openly registered
although, after being sorted by a Technical Committee chaired by a
military Colonel, the number was cut by a half to thirteen. A senior military
officer who had been nominated previously and favoured by the military
headquarters remained in the new list. However, although the Committee
still had enough authority to determine who were eligible or who were not
to continue to the next stage of the process, the effort to secure the victory
of that officer was getting harder. In the DPRD voting to nominate five of
the thirteen eligible candidates, of the total forty five members of the
DPRD only eleven voted for him, with the same number of votes for his
main challenger, a (civilian) Golkar cadre. Again, the Ministry of Internal
Affairs and the East Java Governor used their authority to remove this
challenger’s name from the approved list, but then Golkar shifted its
support to another candidate of its own,771 so Golkar kept challenging. To
secure the officer’s victory the military then had to use direct intervention
including distribution of “money” (amplop, ‘envelopes’) and “intimidation”
(ancaman), such as a secret invitation of all forty five members of the
legislature to the office of a military territorial commander, and the
distribution of two million rupiah for each person, as well as a warning to
comply with the military’s preference.772 When the election was held, of
the forty five members of DPRD, only F-ABRI and F-KP [Golkar] (twenty-
770
Five Mayoral Candidate nominees – announced by the DPRD on May 19 1998, only two days before the
resignation of Suharto – were cancelled. See p. 157.
771
Eleven votes were also given to Edi Rusdi (Golkar), eight to Iman Harun (Golkar), eight to Colonel Harris,
(military) and three to Dedi Taher (PPP). In fact, Edi Rusdi, a Golkar member, gained increasingly strong public
support. See p. 159.
772
The respondent said that Kodam did no longer tell exactly what to do and how the F-TNI/POLRI would be
able to secure the victory of the military Bupati candidate, although Kodam should have been able to ask Chinese
business partners close to it to help them with money needed to bribe the voter with bigger amount of money.
See footnote 43, p. 160.
331
six altogether) complied with the instruction to vote for the officer, while the
sixteen members of the PPP and the three of the PDI abstained. So,
despite the end result, the F-KP members’ different line from the military’s
at the early stage, and the abstaining by the F-PP and F-DI members at
the voting stage marked a real new challenge to the local military power
over the Pilkada.
A year and a half later in Ngadiredjo, the local challenge to the military was even
stronger. A Bupati candidate proposed by Golkar defeated a military officer
proposed by the F-TNI/POLRI. The military’s efforts to influence the Golkar (FGolkar/F-KP) members failed. Even threats and intimidations were no longer
effective. Phone messages sent to the houses of the Chairman of Golkar (my
respondent) and the Golkar Bupati candidate’s, saying that “[their families] would
be killed if that military officer failed to become the Bupati” were ignored.
Meanwhile, the amount of bribe money that the local military could pay was too
small to defeat Golkar’s candidate.773 Moreover, in Ngadiredjo, as a result of the
policies operating after the 1999 national election, the number of the military
representatives in the local assembly had been cut down by half (to only five of the
forty-five members), and they failed in competition against F-Golkar to gain
support from the other factions, especially the F-DIP that held nineteen seats and
the F-KB with seven seats. Lastly, as a military respondent said, the F-TNI/ POLRI
members were “ignored” by their higher Headquarters, although they knew that
the institutions expected them “to bring the victory for the candidate from the
military” (mensukseskan calon dari KBT).774
The Ngadiredjo Election case was the only one in East Java where the new
DPRD accepted the nomination process prepared by the previous DPRD, while in
another five elections (Lamongan, Surabaya City, Jember, Situbondo, and Gresik)
the new DPRD decided to restart them. From 2000 onward the military position in
the Pilkada was no longer dominant. Up to December 2003, from twenty nine
773
This respondent of mine said that he was also then invited to the Ngadiredjo’s Kodim office to meet the
Commander who “angrily blamed him as the main cause” of the failure of the military Bupati candidate because
he was the Chairman of the F-KP. See footnote 63, p. 166.
774
See the last paragraph on p. 165.
332
District Head (Bupati or Mayor) elections, only in four elections did the military
faction’s role seem to have been significant in achieving victory for the candidates
of the group or groups with which it had affiliated itself.775 In most cases, the
military was a minor player.776 One of the important factors that limited the
military’s political influence in local elections had been the local emergence of a
majority party after the 1999 election.777 Military respondents said that the FTNI/POLRI had not much choice other than “supporting the majority”, otherwise
the faction would “create difficulties in relationships with the Bupati”, not only for
the faction itself “but also for the military units stationed here”. Another important
factor was that the military was left out by powerful coalitions when it became an
unimportant player.778
Despite a promising picture shown by this declining trend of the military influence,
there was a more gloomy part of the picture shown by active involvement at
individual level, as discussed in Chapter Eight. There were some indications that
the political activities of those appointed to the local DPRD supposedly to be
military representatives were not effectively controlled by the military institution. In
the Sumberwaras Bupati election in 2000, for example, the voices of the FTNI/POLRI members were divided into two blocks: three officers siding with the FKB (the faction of the Awakening Party, PKB) and two with the F-PP (the faction of
the United Development Party, PPP). The Dandim of Sumberwaras, who was
supposed to supervise the F-TNI/POLRI members, was busy with his own
ambition to register as a Bupati candidate - who these faction members did not
support. Meanwhile, a senior officer in the provincial Kodam Headquarters
“secretly promised the F-KB that the members of the F-TNI/POLRI would support
775
These regencies were Lamongan, Jember, Ponorogo, and Madiun, see Table VII.3, pp. 169-170, (symbol
@).
776
In eight cases, the military faction members were divided, indicating that the institutional control and internal
solidarity was weakening. For more information about the election cases see Table VII.3, p. 169-170.
777
In East Java the PKB became the majority party in four districts: of the total forty five seats of each DPRD it
occupied thirty in Situbondo, twenty five in Sumenep, twenty five in Bangkalan and twenty eight in Bondowoso.
For more information about the election results in these four Districts see p. 172-174.
778
See the election cases of Trenggalek (2000), Malang (2000), and Nganjuk (2003), on pp. 174-176.
333
the F-KB”.779 As seen in Table VIII.1, in at least seven cases the military faction’s
members were divided into different competing groups.
Personal considerations seemed quite dominant in creating such divisions. In
Sumberwaras, for example, the reasons included, first, a personal debt to the
Bupati candidate, who had helped the son of the officer (who supported the Bupati
candidate) to get accepted as a student of AKPOL, the prestigious Police
Academy; and second, a personal attachment to the Bupati candidate, the officer
who supported had once been a direct subordinate officer, when they were both
serving at the AKPOL. Both of these F-TNI/POLRI members disobeyed the
instructions from a senior officer of Kodam to support the F-KB, that is, to vote for
another candidate who once had been this officer’s personal assistant.780
Various personal considerations for having political positions by the officers were
found in the Pilkadas in different Districts, yet personal economic gains from the
money provided by the Bupati candidates seemed to be a common account.781
There was a common perception in the interviewed officers’ minds that members
of the local F-TNI/POLRI did gain money from the Pilkada. In my interview with a
member of the F-TNI/POLRI from Talang Sari, the respondent said that the
Talang Sari case was admired by the officers in other Districts as a good example;
because they could play “kanan-kiri oke” (they received money from all competing
sides). As the personal financial gains were very important, the position of the
military representatives in each local election became very unpredictable. In fact,
as Table VIII.1 shows, the military could affiliate with any party, big, small,
nationalist, or religious faction. As one military respondent told me, siding with the
779
Similar divisions occurred in other Districts, such as in Pringgodani (2003), and in Buluhlawang (2003), see
Table VII.3, p. 169, where the military was divided (symbol ÷) in Chapter Seven, and sections 4, 5, 6 and 7 in
Chapter Eight, pp. 184-200.
780
Different personal reasons can also be seen in Pringgodani case, especially for the two members of the FTNI/POLRI who supported the F-PP, as well as for Major Police Agung Sukarman, a member of the FTNI/POLRI in Mangunredjo. See Section 5, pp. 192-194, and Section 7, pp. 198-201, in Chapter Eight.
781
This is suggested by information by a relative of a Bupati candidate who said his relative was defeated in the
election because the victor spent much more money, including for bribing the voters, as well as information from a
former member of the F-TNI/POLRI in Ngantang who said that the officers in territorial units complained about
him because he did not share (send) the money gained from the Ngantang Pilkada, (sub-section 3.6, pp. 174177, Chapter Seven); and information by Lt.Tjan Santos, a member of the F-TN/POLRI of Buluhlawang, who
believed that no Pilkada was free from money politics (in Section 6, pp. 194-198, Chapter Eight).
334
small groups, although it was more likely to be defeated, was preferred when the
groups possessed bigger financial resources and were more generous.
Beside the considerations of personal or financial gain, it seemed that the
perceived degree of risk that might be faced from taking personal positions by the
officers were also important. Most of the officers who took different positions were
non-Army officers. It seems that there was also a nuance of the decline of the
Army’s influence over the other branches of the military; the Navy, Air Force and
Police.782 In Mangunredjo, for example, an Air Force officer was actively and
openly involved in a coalition group consisting of small factions against the F-DIP
which held 22 of the 45 seats in the DPRD. As the most senior officer among the
five members, he not only tried to control internal F-TNI/POLRI decisions, but was
also directly involved in secret lobbying to fragment the FDIP members783, as well
as providing a place in an Air Force base for the “karantina” (quarantine) of the
coalition members a week before the voting. In addition, as mentioned earlier, the
one who betrayed the coalition was a Police Major, giving an indication of a
greater political freedom that non-Army officers had in Pilkada.
On one hand, the divisions in the military may be democratically good in the sense
that there were difficulties within the military to rebuild a solid political power that
could undermine the civilian power. On the other hand, however, the divisions
meant that the previous internal control of the military institution over the political
activities of the military officers who behaved erratically or in pursuit of solely
personal interests (for example, economic gains mentioned before) was becoming
ineffective. Such an outcome could similarly undermine the civilian authority.784
782
As noted earlier, in Pringgodani the two officers who took different positions from the faction’s internal
consensus were Air Force and Naval officers; in Mangunredjo it was a police officer; while in Buluhlawang it was
the Air Force officer who actively steered the other members to oppose the local territorial commander. In my
interviews in Mangunredjo and Buluhlawang those officers suggested that their different political choices were
reported and approved by their own superior officers (Police and Air Force Headquarters) and they were backed
up their commanders.
783
In page 192 I described how he approached some members of F-DIP to break up the faction.
784
One clear example of where the security could not be properly handled as it was a part of a political conflict
was where the military and the police, in one way or another, were linked to different conflicting parties, see the
case of Sumberwaras in Chapter Eight, pp. 191-192.
335
As mentioned earlier, the situation was not simply one of undemocratically
dominant and disruptive activities of military representatives in an otherwise stable
and democratic civilian politics. Instead, the civilians shared the responsibility in
keeping the officers remain involved in politics. For example, a Campaign Team of
the PKB in late December 1999 visited the Surabaya Makodam (Kodam
Headquarters), and met with Colonel Suharno. The Team requested that Kodam
instruct the members of the F-TNI/POLRI in the Sumberwaras DPRD to support
the F-KB and, in return, the PKB would elect any Bupati candidate from the
military “who was appointed by Colonel Suharno”. This was contradictory to the
efforts of getting the military out of politics as the deal drew this institution back
toward the electoral competition.785 The visits by the politicians to Kodam for
support show that short-term political interests of the civilian factions contributed to
undermining the idea of minimizing the military involvement in politics.786
Furthermore, the involvement of the civilian politicians, for example, in trying to
influence the replacement process of the F-TNI/POLRI members in several
Districts; or bribing the officers for their support in the elections, such as was
described by Andi Sochib in Buluhlawang, kept the military trapped in politics.
In Chapter Eight, I also asked further questions - what were the impacts of
these new features of the military’s involvement on the quality of the
elections and on local governance? The answer was that the spirit of
choosing the best civilian leader through the Pilkada was frequently
overcome by the passion for short term interests, for money and power.
For these interests, seeking a military backing was one of the important
choices to be made, simply because the members of the F-TNI/POLRI
had the right to vote, especially when there was no single majority faction
in the DPRD or when a simple majority faction existed but was not solid.
So, despite the diversification of elite group sources, the former New
785
Similarly, the chairman of the F-TNI/POLRI in Pringgodani suggested that he himself was asked by the
competing faction to show the way to the Kodam in order to get support from there. Similar information was given
by a member of the F-TNI/POLRI in Tulungagung; that he become the guide for the competing faction when they
wanted to lobby the Kodam, to request the Kodam to give an instruction to support their sides in the forthcoming
Pilkada.
786
This is what is described as the lack of “loyalty” of democratic actors to the democratic system; they failed to
avoid “knocking at the barracks door” for support from the military. Quoted from Diamond, Larry and Marc F.
Plattner (eds.)., Civil Military Relations and Democracy, (Baltimore and London: The John Hopkins University
Press, 1996), p. xxix
336
Order officials had not been totally excluded, although they are no longer
dominant.787 Limiting their choosing of their own cadres to the Vice District
Head candidatures was common for these civilian factions unless the
faction was an absolute majority. As not all members agreed to propose a
non-party cadre, the disagreements produced internal conflicts, either
within a faction, between the faction and the local party leadership, or
between the central and the local leaderships. Not only did the
considerations about money and power undermine the quality of the
candidates but, when they were elected, political conflicts between or
within parties (or collusion between parties) narrowed the spaces for the
new leaders to be able to perform good leaderships in their Districts.
Solving these problems will be important in smoothing any efforts to
complete the further agenda of reforming military politics. Within the
military, the disintegrating institutional control over political activities of
individual officers needs to be re-strengthened and, within the new civilian
politics, the pursuit of short-term political and personal interests must not
undermine the idea of minimizing military politics.
5. Impacts on (former) karya personnel
…when our turn is about to come, the doors [to the chances of
having politically/financially-profitable jobs] are closed, that is not
fair.788
The institutional reforms, especially the withdrawal from civilian jobs,
affected thousands of military personnel in East Java from Colonel to rank
and file soldiers.789 After being withdrawn from their lucrative civilian jobs
to the Kodam headquarter in Surabaya, they were stationed for months
787
To be supported by the military, the new parties chose retired military or (former Golkar) bureaucrats as
Bupati/Mayor Candidates, then businessmen (with financial strengths and/or sponsors) as Vice Bupati/Mayor
Candidates. If a party’s retired military or bureaucrat District Head candidate already had adequate financial
sponsors, usually business leaders, the position of Vice District Head candidate would be given to a party cadre.
As Table VIII.3, p. 206 shows, of the thirty six elections in East Java, fifty one percent of the District Head
candidates proposed by the F-DIP were (former Golkar) bureaucrats, only twenty percent were F-DIP members.
In the F-KB list, forty six percent were bureaucrats, and thirty seven percent party cadres.
788
This expression in my interviews with military respondents was commonly used by young officers. See p. 214.
789
This section based mainly on the more detailed materials in Chapter Nine.
337
without active jobs, then posted to new (but non-lucrative) jobs within the
military units. Various reactions were found in my interviews with some of
those personnel, but commonly they were shocked by the withdrawal
policies, and they blamed the democratization (that had brought about the
withdrawal) that made their personal lives harder. Therefore, as the above
quote shows, their views about democracy were usually negative.790
A contrasting opinion was given by a former senior officer interviewed who
had chosen to become a civil servant (one of only two from more than a
hundred officers withdrawn from civilian jobs in East Java) for a personal
reason; an uncomfortable feeling about the past political involvement of
the military, especially his experience as the Head of Kansospol when he
was involved in some “dirty political games” on one side, and a feeling as
being more a civilian politician than a military officer since he had become
the head of the Kansospol, on the other. He viewed democratization as
the way that should have been followed, in contrast to those returning-tothe unit officers’ views – that saw it just as a matter of power struggle,
defeat or defeated, not ‘good’ or ‘bad’.791 His views about democratization,
thus the military political withdrawal, was rarely found among those who
were still active duty officers.792
Officers near to retirement commented on the withdrawal more positively,
it seemed simply as they had less to lose.793 In contrast, several young
officers who have not been involved in politics, but seemed to have been
looking forward to it, complained of having missed out (see the above
quote). So, the reactions were varied from one person to another,
apparently depending strongly on the effects that the withdrawal had on
each of them personally.
790
See similar comments on p. 213 from many sergeants or privates who had been village
headmen or appointed to positions in local economic sectors such as in terminals or markets.
791
“I never believed that a democratic system would be good for this country
[Indonesia]...democracy is not better than other systems, if now democracy is on top it is just
because of the time cycle…different generations sometimes want to live in different ways from
their predecessors.” See footnote 18, p. 213.
792
At the time of the interview he was the Head of the Badan Kepegawaian (Employment Division) of a District
Government. See footnote 23, p. 215.
793
See footnote 21 and 22, p. 214.
338
Another group of karya officers who experienced a direct impact of the
military withdrawal was made up the former military Bupatis and Mayors
who decided to retire early, keep their current positions and continue their
political careers as civilians. Fourteen of the eighteen who kept their
positions attempted to run for a second term in the office through the next
Pilkada local elections while the other four did not, either because of
having no signs of significant support from the local DPRD faction or
because of having completed the maximum allowed two periods of office.
The outcomes of the political struggles of these fourteen officers varied
from one District to another but, as detailed in the second section of
Chapter Nine, it is possible to classify them into five categories.794
The first category is of the direct victims of the democratic movements –
they left the Bupati positions after having been pushed to step down by the
public after 1998.795 The second category is of those whose current
positions did not face significant disruptions from the reformasi
movements but they were prevented from participating in the next
elections.796 The third, majority, category, were of those who were allowed
to participate in the Pilkada but were unsuccessful in it. In some cases the
elections involved competition among former officers or against active
officers,797 but in most cases the military (now retired) Bupatis failed to get
the majority’s support.798 In the fourth category were the military (retired)
Bupatis who won the election for a second term but subsequently suffered
from crippling or serious conflict, indicating that (former) military rulers
could not govern as easily as they could in the New Order era.799 Lastly,
794
The number of case in each category varied, but most of the fourteen cases fell into the third category. See pp.
216-225, see also Table VIII. 2, p. 218.
795
See the cases of Banyuwangi where the Bupati was accused of involvement in the Dukun Santet murders,
and of Situbondo where the Bupati was accused of being involved in “fifty KKN cases”. See p. 226.
796
In Tunggal Redjo, the Bupati in 2000 failed to register for a second term because of an accusation of
corruption in a market renovation project. In Bandulan the Bupati lost his right to register after the DPRD rejected
his LPJ (Final Accountability Report). As with those in the first category, the military as an institution was unwilling
to protect them, arguing that the matter had nothing to do with the military institution, but only with them as “rough
individuals” (oknum). See pp. 219-223.
797
Such as between two officers in Godean, two officers in Jambangan; three officers in Ngadiredjo; and two
retired officers in Jabung Anyar See Table VIII.2, p. 182.
798
See the cases of Godean, Sumedang, Pancang Tanggul and Pisang Candi Districts, pp. 172-177.
799
See the cases of Sumber Yasin, and Sumberwaras on p. 224.
339
the only former military officer successful in a Bupati election was in
Buluhlawang 2003.800
As also discussed in detail in Chapter Nine, the Buluhlawang case showed
two things. First, the military territorial commanders could no longer even
fully control the political position of the F-TNI/POLRI members in a
Pilkada, let alone control its outcome. This was simply because the
military institution no longer formally endorsed these commanders in
taking such a control, although on some occasions the commanders did
use their institutional positions to justify their personal actions. Second, the
military institution did not always prefer a retired military candidate over a
civilian; and personal political networks have determined the political
careers of the officers more than institutional relations have.
Chapter Six, pp. 124-129, described how the structural changes have
weakened the DPRD military faction. In Chapter Nine I reported that,
although being a member of the military faction in a Legislative Assembly
was no longer being seen as a good stepping stone for a military-politicalrelated career, after 2000 the jobs became more attractive because of a
dramatic increase in the salaries of local Assembly members (for example,
in Surabaya, from around two million to around thirty five million rupiah
[US$ 3500] a month). Athough the members of the F-TNI/POLRI were
now recruited mainly from non-career officers, the competitions to get the
DPRD positions became tougher but also more corrupted. According to
information I was given by some officers in East Java, the amount of
money spent for paying “pelicin” (the ‘smoothing’ or bribe) to the officers in
charge of selection became much more important than before (from 1998
to 2000). Consequently, once getting the jobs most of the new Assembly
members thought mainly about earning money.801 In addition, some
800
Unsuccessful in the 2000 Pilkada of Sidikalang, as he was not supported by either the Kodam or the FTNI/POLRI, two years later he participated in and won the Buluhlawang Pilkada. Although he was still not
supported by the Kodam, he managed to get the full support from the five members of the local F-TNI/POLRI
(which was affiliated with both F-KB and F-Golkar) who took a different position from that of the local territorial
commanders. See pp. 224-226.
801
As described in more detail in the summary section of Chapter Eight, one of the biggest chances to get their
money back was through the Pilkada.
340
officers serving in the DPRD in several Districts refused to step down from
their appointed position when they retired, using political lobbying within
their DPRD in order to try to be able to keep earning the large income.802
Looking at the reactions of military personnel withdrawn from civilian
posts, the political behaviors of former military Bupatis or Mayors who
attempted to keep their positions, and the attitudes of the remaining
military representatives in the DPRD, it seems that their attitudes toward
the democracy were very personally and practically motivated. Therefore,
it is vital for the newly established democracy to maximize the systemic
restrictions (by rule of law) that would minimize the opportunity for the
military’s political involvements, because to merely rely on the willingness
of the individual military officer is not likely to be completely effective.
There are still many military personnel, especially those who had tasted
the fruits of political power, who may be ready and willing to return to
politics whenever it seems possible.
6. Impacts on local military units803
The main indicators of being successful in doing my territorial
job in the New Order era were: first, the Golkar Ruling Party won
the election within my commanding area; second, no security
instability that was an obstruction to the government’s
development programs; and third, my superiors (especially at
the centre) were kept happy about my territorial capabilities
(kemampuan nge-ter) [e.g. giving money or securing their
business]. Now a Dandim [military district commander] does not
have to worry anymore about all of this, well…except perhaps
the last one.804
In the past, a Dandim was very rich (kaya-raya) because money
came from all directions [various sources], now I feel ashamed to
see the Dandim has to beg everyone (mengemis kemana-mana)
for security funds assistance.805
802
See Table IX.1 on p. 229.
Section based mainly on the detailed material in Chapter Ten.
804
Interview with a retired Dandim in East Java. See pp. 238-239.
805
Interview with a Chairman of the Golkar faction in the DPRD of a District in East Java.
803
341
Although institutional reforms did not change the basic structure of the
Territorial Command – it remains parallel with and present at every level of
the government bureaucracies from the province to the village – yet its
ability to control local politics (and security) decreased significantly, due
especially to the demolition of the Koter political networks mentioned
above. One of the important reasons was that the financial resources of
the local military units that had streamed through these networks also
dried up. Even though it is difficult to estimate an exact amount of such
financial loss, it seems to have been large.806 However, there is no
sufficient indication that this loss has significantly affected, or threatened
the existence of, local units as the money was usually used to fund socialpolitical activities that now have also been minimized. What also seems
promising is that there is no evidence about any systematic attempt by the
military to deal with this financial loss, for example by channeling the
Koter’s financial interests systematically to retired military active in DPRD
or political parties.
Despite this there were various personal, instead of systematic,
approaches between the Koter Commanders and the local government
officials or local political elites (especially the F-TNI/POLRI in the DPRD)
in attempts to get security fund assistance from the local government
budgets (APBD).807 Also, in many Districts, the security fund that was
allocated in the government’s annual budget was now not distributed
directly to the security units; it was kept instead by the Bakesbang office,
the division that replaced the Kansospol in 2000. According to a Dandim, it
was distributed “little by little” (kincrit-kincrit”) to the units when they
applied with proposals for financial assistance. It also seems that between
those who distributed the money and those who received it there was a
806
A former Dandim told me that the Kodim could lose at least five hundred million rupiah (US$ 50,000) a year
which used to be received through social-political-related programs. This did not include the losses from losing
access to the local government’s resources that used to be channeled through strategic positions occupied by the
military officers, now withdrawn. Furthermore, another serving Dandim informed me that, as the military no longer
holds strong political power, the territorial units had lost many business partners who previously needed the
military to support lobbying for their business projects. See section 2, p.234.
807
There was a case in Mantingan where the Commander was, in one politician’s words, being “too vulgar” by
proposing to the DPRD that a FWD Nissan Terrano (costing around 300 million rupiah, about US$ 30,000)
should be bought as an official car (Mobil Dinas), effectively for his use. See p. 239.
342
vagueness, either about the sources of funds, the amounts, or the levels
of recipients.808
The amounts of funds provided by the APBD varied from one District to
another. Higher PAD/Pendapatan Asli Daerah (Local Government
Revenue), good relations between the District Commander and the District
DPRD’s F-TNI/POLRI, or better capability of the F-TNI/POLRI members in
lobbying other factions in their DPRD and the leaders in their District
Government, were generally favorable for the District’s military units to be
allocated large security funds.809
Personal approaches could also go the other way around. The FTNI/POLRI members offered an assistance to bring the needs of military
units to the DPRD forum even when the units did not ask in the first place,
and then, these members could benefit from it by involving themselves in
the development projects (such as military housing or office renovations)
being funded by the local government’s security assistance fund.810
However, it is also important to note that the impact of these changes in
the economic opportunities available to members of the local military
personnel did not change the fact that the Koter remains the favourite
place to work for most of the Army personnel. Partly because of this, as
shown in my interviews with local military officers and soldiers, their
reactions when asked about some central military elites’ idea of abolishing
the Koter, was an irritated or outraged “what about us?”.
808
See the case of Mangliawan for example, where the Dandim, the Head of the Finance Sub-Division, and the
Secretary of the Mangliawan Government, made different claims about the amount, the sources and the
receivers of the money. See pp. 240-241.
809
Security budgets were quite large in Malang, Surabaya and Banyuwangi due to their big PADs, in contrast to
the Districts of Ngadiredjo, Panorama, Sumber Manjing, Ngayarsari, and Bandulan which had much smaller
PADs. In Situnggal District, where the PAD was not big, but “the lobbies are effective” (as the F-TNI/POLRI
members claimed), the security budget for local military and police was allocated 1 billion of the 9 billion rupiah
PAD in the 2003 budget. As a comparison, in the Panorama District which had a slightly bigger PAD, in the same
year the security budget was only two hundred million rupiah (one fifth of that in Situnggal). See p. 235-237.
810
An indication was found for example in Banjar Wetan. Lieutenant Colonel Markus, Deputy of the Chairman of
the Banjar Wetan DPRD, claimed that when he offered the security assistance to the local security units he
insisted that it was not in cash (to avoid resistance from other factions) but in projects which he could also take
advantage from. See p. 237.
343
The soldiers’ formal salaries have always been very small811 and the only
way for them to solve this problem was to get additional income outside
working hours. Some of them acted as Satpam (private security guards) at
entertainment centres or shopping centres, private parking attendants,
brokers (makelar) for vehicles or properties, backing gamblers or
prostitution, or even being involved in crimes when they found no other
ways. The problem with serving in the regular units is that they did not
provide enough time to leave the base. Therefore, moving to a territorial
unit, where there is no such restriction on going out, thus providing more
opportunities to become involved in social interactions and business
activities, was regarded as a way of having a chance to achieve a better
economic life.
Especially for rank and file soldiers a move to territorial units was seen as
a preparatory step for retirement. This is despite, as described more detail
in Chapter Ten, the difficulties in the path of moving to the territorial
units.812 The most favoured position for the soldiers in the Koter was
“Babinsa” (Village Development Sergeant). One Babinsa normally covered
one or more villages. Although this was the lowest position in the territorial
hierarchy, being the only member of the military in villages which are
distant from the Commander’s supervisory base, the existence of a
Babinsa appeared very independent. Usually a Babinsa was “treated as a
person with a higher social status” (dituakan) by the village people, similar
to and sometimes even higher than the village’s official leader. To get
these particular positions was just as difficult as getting in the Koter units.
All these sacrifices to get the desired jobs would influence their working
performance. Then the capability of “ngeter” (making money through
social or business interactions) would be most important in having Koter
jobs. Setoran ke atas (sending money to the superiors) becomes a must.
This pattern of setoran ke atas does not stop at the Babinsa level, but
goes higher. This is why a job as a Koter Danramil is more favourable than
811
812
See footnote 44, p. 247.
See pp. 248-252.
344
a regular Danki company commander or than other jobs with the same
Captain rank in regular units, or a Koter Dandim than the same-ranked
Lieutenant Colonel jobs in regular units, and so on. That is, service in the
Koter means receiving more setoran than in regular units. Unlike the lower
rank soldiers who mostly want the money for their retirements, for career
officers the money means not only an improvement to their standard of
living, but also a vital support for subsequent promotion to higher
positions.
Given the condition of the Koter described above, how could Koter have
been more professional, even after the withdrawal? Firstly, the Koter
personnel who were “invalid” soldiers, characterized by nearly-retired,
physically unhealthy (Status A3), married and thus under greater
economic
pressures,
and
less
disciplined,
were
“disposables”
(apkiran/buangan) from regular units and could not be expected to have a
high military professional capability. Secondly, Koter units have much
lower standards of continuing training than the regular units. There were
so many non-program activities – ranging from TMD to ceremonies of
units’ anniversaries to security operations to back up police including in
elections, soccer competitions or entertainment concerts – that they did
not have much time for training. Soldiers liked these activities more than
training because they usually got food allowances (uang makan) and the
jobs are much more relaxed. Furthermore, as was reported, the limitations
in weaponry equipment, this being too old or too few, also made the
training more a formality.
Moreover, due to the budget constraints, creating fictive programs became
a common way to save the money, or if the training had to be done, then it
would have to be undertaken as economically as possible. Low-rank
officers, especially intelligence staff officers, were motivated to search for
“rekanan” or partners to fund their units’ programs. As such, the training
was used mainly to satisfy the periodical reports that were required or to
save the face of the unit and the commander in the eyes of the higher
commanders. Most personnel knew the game and were compelled to play
345
it properly. Inspections from above were mainly procedural as the
inspection reports could be compromised if the pocket money (sangu) or
service (pelayanan) from the inspected units was good enough.
A strong negative habit of an unwritten practice of setoran or uang
mengalir ke atas (money flows upward) in its internal management and
leadership practices is likely to continue distorting the military’s internal
governance. Besides, the limitation or even elimination of the external
financial sources previously accessed through politics-related activities
would make inside-sourced corruption worse. For example, if previously a
commander could insist his officers not use a program fund for a training
program but to rely on money from ngeter results and save the program
fund (for the unit or himself), now with ngeter getting difficult the program
fund would have to be divided (for the training and for the commander).
So, despite a decreased political involvement, the military’s professional
capability
or
“expertiseness”,
its
organizational
governance
or
“corporateness”, and the quality of security service provisions or the
profession’s “social responsibility” are not likely to improve significantly.
Another important issue regarding professionalism was the separation of
the military from public security matters that were closely related to
political affairs. Despite an organizational separation of the police from the
military, due to the high challenges of internal security and the weakness
of the police, the military backup was still needed. Firstly, the number of
police personnel has not met an ideal ratio of one police officer per five
hundred population. For example, one Balinmas/Village NCO-Police
should be responsible for only one village, but in reality, such as in Malang
Regency, each is responsible for from four to seven villages. Besides, the
public trust in the police is very low. The Tempo Interaktif’’s 3 July 2000
polling indicated that more than seventy percent of the public did not trust
the police, and did not believe that the military-police separation would
improve the police performance. My interviews conducted in East Java in
346
2003 confirmed similar distrust.813 The continued involvement in public
security reduced the opportunity for the military to concentrate on its own
professional (defence) matters.
Another question is whether the military backup has solved the security
problems. The data shows that as the implementation was poorly
designed, both the military and the police were confused, as the military’s
backup was not quite effective. Before the separation a Dandim could
quickly coordinate the troops (of military and police units) in his area, and
ask for financial support from the local government or business partners.
Now, after the separation, the procedures for asking the military troops
had to pass up longer bureaucratic ladders and the logistical support
creates problems.814 If in the New Order era, a Dandim could deploy his
troops, or other troops under his coordination, within minutes, after the
military-police separation it could take hours, days, or produce no
deployment at all. Nevertheless, despite the ineffectiveness of the backup,
leaving the police alone could make the security management much
worse, so the back-up from the military seems to need to continue in the
long run and will remain an obstacle to the military professionalization.
Then, regarding the logistics for the operations, on one hand the local
government was responsible for providing financial assistance for security
operations in its local area, but it was unclear which operations, on what
scales, and of what amount. On the other hand, the security forces
(military or police) were centralized forces, thus the responsibility of the
national government. After several experiences of the units not getting
their reimbursements after the backing-up operations, when the units were
asked to back-up again, the units replied with various excuses for being
not ready for deployment, such as having training programs or other
activities. Also, to find out which unit (if any) was ready was also wasting
time. Besides, practical considerations, including how lucrative the jobs
813
814
See pp. 254-257.
See sub-section 4.2, p. 257.
347
were expected to be, also influenced how the back-up would be given, and
indicated also that there were problems of jealousy over material gains.815
In addition, a police respondent told me that, while the economic crisis had
increased the crime rate, the separation of the police and the military had
ruined the existing intelligence networks, unofficial informants had
disappeared as the military had no more money to pay them, and so the
efforts of handling the crimes became more complicated.816 Moreover,
tensions between the military and police were getting serious.817 Whatever
the causes – whether because of “too much solidarity” among the soldiers,
as the Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces General E. H. Sutarto
told the press, or the police having become arrogant as some military
personnel claimed, or the military personnel not understanding the new
position of the police as police said - the effectiveness of security
management after the military-police separation had deteriorated.
The military-police separation has not been followed by the establishment
of an effective police force that would be able to fully take over the national
domestic security. If democracy is to go on the right track, the problems of
building effective but civilianized police forces have to be given a higher
priority. The military back-up for the police should be seen as only a
temporary arrangement. In the longer term letting the military be involved
in public security matters means leaving open the door for the military to
be involved in security-related political issues.
7. Impacts on civilian politicians, civil society and uncivil politics without
TNI818
815
See sub-section 4.2, pp. 257-262.
An MP Officer revealed that the military and police personnel at the rank and file level were involved in
“curanmor” (vehicle theft), known in the East Java Province as “alap–alap” (the name of a black, aggressive bird).
NGO respondents and the Kompas newspaper reported the military and police’s involvement in drug (ecstasy
and putaw) trading and in illegal logging in Madiun. See p. 260.
817
The newspaper Pikiran Rakyat on 2 October 2002 reported that from 2001 to 2002, there had been twelve
incidents occurring in Ambon, Sampil Port, Central Kalimantan, Jambi, West Aceh, Serui Irian Jaya, Palu, Central
Sulawesi, Madiun, Bogor; and Flores, East Nusa Tenggara, where casualties among the military and police units
resulted (alth9ough it should be noted that only one of these, Madiun, is in East Java). See footnote 73, p. 261.
818
Section based mainly on the detailed material in Chapter Eleven.
816
348
When joining Pos Gotong Royong activities in 1998, especially
when there were demonstrations, I was paid fifteen thousand
rupiah per day, I had a free lunch box (nasi kotak), and the job was
so much fun and easier, while being a labourer in a roof factory
(pabrik genteng/asbes) I was paid only ten thousand rupiah and the
job was very dusty, so my friends and I left the factory and joined
the PGR.819
…joining politics has made me a much
businessman rather than a great politician…820
bigger
cassava
Ideally, the military withdrawal from politics results in a strong democratic
system characterized by a high public political participation and effective
democratic institutions. This character, according to many scholars (see
Chapter Two), is essentially preventive against a future military political
involvement, and a vital precondition for “civilian control” over the military.
In this regard, without (or with the reduced presence of) the military in the
civilian political environment, what has the East Java case shown?
The case of the PGR described in Chapter Five has shown that there was
an increased involvement of the lower level grassroots in political activities
around 1998/1999. Street-singers (pengamen), pedicab (becak) drivers,
beggars, unemployed, or homeless people were groups who dominated
the public activities in the PGR. However, it was short term economic
rewards in their struggles against economic crisis, more than interest in
democracy, which mainly drove them to participate. They were paid from
the money collected from travelers passing the area where shelters had
been built, or from organized beggars collecting money in the cities. In
addition, not only because many travelers were forced to give donations
but also because of the messy ways of building the PGR and the ways
they functioned, there were many complaints alleging an anarchic more
than a democratic character of participation.821
819
Interview with Sumarno (pseudonym), a former PGR activist in Malang in July 2003.
Interview with Titan Osman (pseudonym), a member of the F-DIP in Tunggal Redjo (pseudonym) District. See
more in p. 277.
821
Abdurrahman Wahid, Chairman of the PKB, complained that they were “too many”; the local government
complained that they were built “on the government’s property…without license”. It was claimed that “PDIP
members gathered, stayed awake overnight, played gambling and got drunk there, sometimes with loud dangdut
(traditional music)”. As these activities were so disturbing in Islamic communities, such as in Pasuruan, some
shelters were burnt down by the local community. See Chapter Five, p. 108.
820
349
Chapter Nine showed in more detail that the political participation or
mobilization was incidental, the product of fluctuations in personal, social
or emotional ties between followers and leaders, within a traditionally
sectarian culture and leaderships. Here, supports for the leaders were
understood as a social obligation which was thus taken for granted. This
made it easier for the elite, the leaders, to mobilize supporters. The PKB
as the biggest party in East Java, and the PDIP, the second biggest,
exemplified political participation where the followers’ reactions to certain
political developments were mainly reflections of what the supporters
perceived as unjust treatments of their leaders.
After Megawati’s success in bringing the PDIP to become the biggest
party in the 1999 national election, NU leaders, using the Islamic teaching
interpretation that forbids a female president, declared a “Female
President Ban” on 1 July 1999 in Pasuruan, East Java. Megawati’s
supporters responded by launching a bloody thumb-prints petition as an
expression of “a loyalty to death” (kesetiaan sampai mati) to Megawati.
The PDIP in East Java also formed several militia groups, the Banteng
Sumber Nyowo, Panji Tengkorak and Mangkubumi, that mobilized
supporters prepared for mass rallies for Megawati. Instead of Megawati,
the leader of the largest single party, the Upper House (MPR) of the
national Parliament in Jakarta elected Abdurrahman Wahid (Gus Dur), the
leader of the PKB, as President. Two years later, in 2001, the supporters
of Gusdur acted similarly (or worse) than had Megawati’s supporters in
responding to what they perceived as a conspiracy against their leader,
the impeachment and sacking of Gusdur by the national Parliament. In
East Java, from February to June 2001 Gusdur’s supporters attacked,
ruined or burned dozens of offices belonging to Golkar, PDIP, PPP and
PAN (parties that initiated the impeachment), government buildings,
churches, security posts, blockaded roads by cutting down trees, and
stoned shops in Surabaya, Pasuruan, Probolinggo, Jember, Banyuwangi
and Situbondo. As in Megawati’s case, the violence failed to secure
Gusdur’s presidency.
350
The cases of the attempted Female President Ban and the Bloody Finger
Print Campaign or Gusdur Crisis are not sufficient to represent all of the
features of political participation in East Java, not even those of these two
major parties. However, such cases reflected some important pieces of a
discouraging picture of local political participation. They re-emphasize the
violent nature of political participation on one hand and the ineffectiveness
of security arrangements in general on the other. They also give an insight
into the issue of how the reformist groups at the grassroots began to
abandon their common target, the New Order elements, as their leaders
began another battle among themselves in the competition for power.822 It
also seems that the politics had not departed far from its elitist nature, and
the majority of East Javanese were remaining passive politically for the
same continuing reasons, too busy with economic struggles and too
sceptical about the politics.
Despite this elitist nature, the sources of members of the political elite
groups changed significantly from groups dominated by the military or
military-associates to civilian elites from more diversified sources. Stories
(in pages 270-279) about three successful organizers of PGR activities in
1998 in their areas, where they were previously a poor painter labourer in
a furniture factory, a poor cassava farmer, and a vegetable street seller
(gerobak sayur) are a good example. After the 1999 election the painter
was elected as a DPRD member and then the DPRD Speaker, and since
then became a rich man, owned two big luxury houses, drove expensive
European cars and attended VIP entertainment centres regularly.823
Similar stories were found among the newly elected District Heads. A story
about a junior security guard at a private university who was then elected
822
See also footnote 65, page 294, a view of Jim Schiller, a Flinders University scholar of Indonesian local politics.
Schiller suggested that lacked of democratic experiences, and they were supposed to learn from the past
democratic failures.
823
See similar story about the cassava farmer who was elected as a member of DPRD, then expanded his
cassava business to a much larger scale, becoming one of the biggest cassava traders in his district, as joining
politics has made him “a much bigger cassava businessman rather than a great politician”. Likewise, the
vegetable seller who became a DPRD member from the PDIP and, at the time of my mid-2003 interview with
him, had established and was managing new vegetable storage cooperatives (koperasi pengepul palawija) in
three different Sub-Districts. See more on sub-section 3.1, pp. 276-278.
351
a member of DPRD from PDIP in the 1999 election, then the Vice Bupati
in 2000 and the Bupati in 2002, presented in the same sub-section also
exemplifies this.824
Despite their life styles having changed dramatically, their original
personal integrity had not seemed to change significantly. The former
painter, now the Speaker of a DPRD, was caught in the sweeping
operations carried out by the police against ecstasy drug users in
entertainment centres. Later, he was sentenced to four years in jail by the
local court because of a corruption charge. In many cases however,
loyalty to the party or constituents could easily be bartered with money or
power by which party’s internal conflicts were tangled up.825
The two District Heads, presented in sub-section 3.1., who had been PDIP
members disagreed with the policy line of the Party and had their PDIP
memberships suspended – but still became District Heads. After having
been proposed by another faction of their respective DPRD, the FKB, as
its candidates for Vice District Head positions they were both elected in
2000 then, two years later, both moved up to be the District Heads when
the elected ones died. The suspension of their memberships in the PDIP
was then lifted. In one case the District Head had his hostile relations with
some members of the PDIP faction, led by the (former painter) DPRD
Speaker who had not voted for him in the 2000 election, were not settled.
The conflicts developed for years into deadlocks in executive-legislative
relations. The DPRD attempted to impeach the District Head because the
latter refused to give an accountability speech regarding an allegation of
corruption by the previous District Head, but the attempt failed as the
Ministry of Internal Affairs would not support it. In turn, the District Head
824
As another example was a teacher at a state university before 1998, but then joined the PDIP and in 1999
was elected as a member of the DPRD, elected as Vice Mayor in 2000 and as the Mayor in 2002. There was a
similar case in another District – a lecturer at a state university was elected as a PDIP member of the national
DPR, and in 2003 was elected the Mayor. They are all new members of the political elite groups. See pp. 278279.
825
The former poor cassava farmer (now was DPRD member) was among the eleven local PDIP legislators (out
of fourteen) whose party membership was suspended by the PDIP national leadership in 2003 because of their
being accused of disloyalty to party policy over the Pilkada by supporting different candidates in the District Head
elections. See pp. 281-282.
352
managed to bring the DPRD Speaker to court on a corruption charge that
put him in jail for four years.
During 1998-2003 conflicts inside the PDIP were common in East Java
Pilkada. A Golkar politician, Mudjono, who was a Deputy of the Chairman
of the Mojokerto DPRD (where PDIP had been the major faction but
gained only two votes for its official candidate for Bupati), remarked to me
that the PDIP’s internal conflict was because the PDIP politicians “lacked
maturity in running an organization”. However, the evidence suggests that
such an ‘immaturity’ was not the basic cause. Instead, this was that the
real motive to join the organization had been more economic (personal
profit) than political (to enhance a better political system). Being a
politician had increasingly been seen as a way to get connected to large
sources of money, despite there being some politicians who worked for
their ideologies. So, how would people believe their capabilities in
establishing stable democratic institutions into the new political arena with
this apparent lack of personal integrity or disloyalty of politicians to their
parties because of personal interests in power and money?
This happened not only in the PDIP. The PKB – whose politicians were recruited
from Islamic Boarding Schools (pesantren) and their affiliated Islamic
organizations – was not so different. When they came into and interacted with
politics, as a member of the Bandulan District DPRD said, it becomes “a livelihood
matters (urusan perut) [and] the kiyai acted just as badly as the others who were
not kiyai, and some of them were even worse than crowds of petty extortionists
(korak), corrupt and deceitful”. The politicized kiyais sometimes used their higher
social status to manipulate their followers, and develop democratically unhealthy
politics, such as the use of violence, as in the 2000 Sampang case where PKB
masses burned the DPRD buildings because of disappointment over the result of
the Bupati election. Moreover, internal conflicts within the PKB, regarding the
Pilkada for example, were much the same as what happened in the PDIP; most of
the conflicts were resolved, or left unresolved, by power competitions, rather than
democratic internal mechanisms.826 As in the PDIP, interests in power and money
could be more important than loyalty to the party.
826
See the Pilkada case of Prambanan District (on p. 222-223), where former-President Abdurrahman Wahid, as
the National Chairman (DPP) of PKB, was in conflict with Abdul Hamid, a PKB member and the DPRD Speaker
over the Bupati candidate to be supported. An interesting role was played by Iwayan Bandoro, an East Javanese
businessman who supported Abdul Hamid by providing 200 million rupiah (about Aus$ 3,000) per voter in the
DPRD.
353
Lastly, executive-legislative relations, although varying in some ways, were
discouraging. Unlike the New Order’s DPRD which acted mainly as a “rubber
stamp” of the executive, four variations of relations were found in different Districts
of East Java: “executive domination”, “legislature domination”, “collusive” and
“conflicting”. An “executive domination” was found in Tunggal Redjo, where the
2001-2006 District Head election was won by Golkar, which also held the
Speaker’s position in the DPRD. Advantaged by an internal conflict within the
FDIP, the biggest faction – eleven of the fourteen PDIP legislators had their party
memberships withdrawn and joined the Golkar group – two thirds of the
legislature’s members were “loyal supporters” of the current (Golkar) executive
leader. The only difference with the past was that, while the previous regime used
military oppression as a means, the current one used money. “Legislature
domination” was found in Malang where the legislators went too far, intervening
even into the “technicalities of bureaucracy”, including into the career development
of some of the lower level non-political officials. The “collusive” type was found in
Ponorogo, where the executive and legislature agreed to carry out unpopular
policies, such as development projects, because the DPRD leaders were
personally involved in the projects. In Surabaya and Sampang “conflicting
relations” were found as the legislators used their controlling role destructively,
such as in exaggerating the executive’s mistakes with the aim of toppling the
existing executive leaders, while the executive did not respond properly to the
complaints advanced by the legislators.
The above features of political participation and the institutionalization of local
political institutions in East Java exemplify two major problems in building a strong
democratic institution. These problems need to be solved in order to achieve a
maximum or lasting impact of a military withdrawal from politics.
8. Concluding Remarks
How should this case study of military political withdrawal in East Java be
interpreted? In one sense, it is a portrayal of the post-1998 development of
local politics in a major region of Indonesia that demonstrates the
prospects for as well as the challenges to civil democratic control of the
military in the future.
Prospects
The prospects have been advanced by the promising stories of the
implementation of the post-1998 policy to withdraw the military from
politics, which was an important part of the commitment and effort to
establish both an apolitical, professional, military and effective civilian
politics, the two essential preconditions for democratic civilian control.
354
Two compelling situations – the economic disaster and the collapse of law
and order that de-legitimized and demoralized the military – meant that the
Indonesian military was forced, and did not voluntarily withdraw, from
politics. Yet, the military’s response to the pressure was quite positive by
pursuing a systematic withdrawal from formal politics that dismantled the
military territorial units’ political networks. So, for the military, the strong
external factor of civilian resistance to a military rule and the internal factor
of its own willingness or at least acceptance were key factors that allowed
this withdrawal process to happen, and to produce further impacts on the
establishment of civilian control of the military.827
The dismantling of the previous agencies of Sospol, Wansospolda,
Bakorstada/Litsus and Kansospol as well as the withdrawal of the military
officers from the civilian positions in the local government bureaucracies
and from local parliament present a successful story of military-politics
separation at the local level. The system of integrating military/civilian
bureaucratic/parliamentary political relations, and the previously twin,
interacting, military and social-development/administration functions,
which had been the nature of the Dwifungsi military-civil relations of the
New Order at the local level, was over. In addition, the process of
democratization
has
made some initial
gains
from
the
political
decentralization away from tight central control. The power of local politics
and the local branches of political parties in East Java have increased visá-vis the provincial and central politics. Local elites have been more
independent and much less influenced by the activities and effectiveness
of the military hierarchy, down to the village levels.
Moreover, as reported, the changes in the size, processes of
recruitment/appointment and the interactions of the F-TNI/POLRI made its
position and role increasingly less important. The military institution seems
827
It seems that any single model of military withdrawal (discussed in Chapter Two) can not be easily or neatly fit
on to the East Java case. A combination of two or more patterns as shown in Appendix 4, p. 372, is probably
more useful.
355
to be less willing (and certainly less able) to channel its interests through
the various local assemblies. It appears that even before 2004 the military
dominance
in
local
legislatures
was
effectively
over,
with
the
fragmentation, personal interests, and lower quality of the supposedly
military representatives; so the transition to local Assemblies with no
military faction in 2004 was not a sudden change. There is no evidence
suggesting that this system will be maintained or revived in some ways
through ex-military personnel being put into the parliaments as Golkar or
PDIP or other representatives. It appears that there is too much continuing
suspicion and antagonism about anything to do with military influence to
make this possible.
I have also reported that no evidence was found that previously profitable
formal 'civilian'-military links had been transformed into informal ones by
military personnel 'resigning' and being selected as civilian leaders or
bureaucrats who then continued to channel resources to themselves and
to the military as an institution. This is despite, as also reported, some few
individual cases of personnel who had resigned and transferred to civilian
positions; yet, no military units continued to be significantly assisted as a
result of such transfers. The allocating of 'security assistance' in some
local government budgets had become one of the few avenues of extra
funding now open to operational units other than central military budget
allocations. However, again, this was happening while there were still FTNI/POLRI representations in the assembly (although, as reported, with
civilian local assembly members being the influential arrangers in at least
one case). So, this possibly temporary nature of these civil-military
arrangements was not likely to effectively continue in the post-2004
situation when all military representation within the DPRD would have
stopped. Anti-military civilian politicians and/or parties would likely to be
eagerly on the watch for any such support for the military, looking to
uncover, condemn, loudly protest and stop it.
The separation of political and military institutions undertaken at the local
level has effectively minimized, and is likely to continue minimizing, the
356
area of civil-military political interactions at the local level, and made the
interactions much more manageable and controllable than they were in
the New Order era.828 Therefore, there are substantial grounds to be
optimistic about the future civilian control of the military.
Challenges
There are also serious challenges to the transition and democratic
deepening.829 Dismantling the territorial units’ political networks is not
enough to make the military more professional. The territorial command’s
basic structure remains parallel with and present at all levels of local
government, from the province to the village; and the continued emphasis
on the traditional ‘people’s total defence’ strategy requires continued
interaction between the territorial units and the local authority and
communities.830 There is a need for careful and active planning about
minimizing the military’s political involvement that may have a tendency to
expand through defence and security management links.
Another challenge is future funding of the military. In Chapter Eight I
referred to the armoured and artillery units as of chronically very low
quality because of equipment age and insufficiency, and that some of the
'support in kind' from local businesses, (I normally labelled these ethnically
as
'local
Chinese
businesses')
were
of
the
limited
transport,
communications equipment, snacks and pocket money variety. As the
military at local levels are cut off from their previous local 'private' funding,
this suggests that there would be some more serious institutional
operating problems, such as the maintenance of this equipment, training
828
It is relevant here to remember Huntington’s classifications of levels and forms of national
security policy. The East Java case shows that the form of “situational security policy” especially at
“operational” level has formally been significantly reduced. See Table II.4 in Chapter Two.
829
Democratic deepening or democratic consolidation, according to Juan Linz and Alfred Stepan,
have three criteria. One of them is that when “democracy is the only game in town”. See the
summary more in Chai-Anam and Paricahrt Chotiya, “Beyond Transition in Thailand”, in Diamond,
Larry and March F. Plattner, Democracy in East Asia, (Baltimore and London: The John Hopkins
University Press, 1998), p. 147. See the original article, Linz, Juan J, and Stepan, Alfred., Journal of
Democracy,. Vol. 7, Iss. 2, Apr 1996; pp. 14 -29.
830
One of important continued forms of interaction is the TMD (TNI Masuk Desa/ Tni enters the village)
programs, and other similar, but smaller civic action activities conducted by local units. There was not much
change of this in terms of forms and procedures of the actions in the post-1998, except the name changed from
AMD to TMD. A cover of a civic action procedure for a district level is shown in Appendix 21.
357
and the effectiveness of the deployments of these units. So, there is also a
need to plan and organise future funding which will be adequate to provide
for a modern, professional military posture. This should remain prioritized
in the military reform agenda.
The big cuts in the territorial units’ outside financial resources seem to
have had major and permanent impacts on military individuals and local
institutions. These could worsen corruption and complicate the efforts to
improve the military’s internal governance, and also reduce the capability
of the military to fund its professional external defence activities. Also,
despite this loss, as reported in Chapter Eight, the commonly-held image
that the territorial units provide easier money-making opportunities than
the regular units is not likely to change soon, and the existing sequence
for military personnel of "Regular -> Territorial -> Retirement" will remain.
Moreover, the discouraging political behaviour of individual officers who
tried to intensify personal financial gains during the local elections indicate
that there has not been a significant impact of the systemic change of
military politics on transforming the mentality and attitudes of the officers
from political to professional. It seems that the TNI Internal Reform
seemed to have been quite successful in reforming its external
involvement in politics. For the next steps of the reform, the military should
think of how to put more stress on developing concepts of internal good
governance and of an apolitical military culture within the TNI as essential
to the establishment of military professionalism. Accommodating such
concepts in the training and education centres of the military in all levels
would probably be one of possible ways to start this.
On the other side of the same coin, the sectarian and violent features in
some forms of the public political participation pose a serious problem in
establishing an effective democratic civilian politics. My research found
that corruption, self-interested individual or group instead of national
orientations, and inabilities to solve political conflicts, were common
features of civilian politics in East Java. Moreover, given the increasing
role of the POLRI and the declining role of the TNI in local 'security'
358
activities, and the negative images of the police and the politicians, the
arranging of mutually advantageous relationships with civil society and
money politics has a great potential to expand, posing problems that need
to be solved in the civilian politics. In the short run, there would be only
minor problems as long as this does not fall into a serious political chaos
with an escalation of security threats. If it does, this could massively
increase the tendency for an increased military security role and therefore
increase the military’s political involvement. Yet, in the long run, the
absence of capable civilian politics could eventually re-legitimize the return
of the military (many of whose officers still have political ambitions) to
politics. So, these optimistic stories about the military political withdrawal
at the local level are preliminary – this it has only led and opened the way
to but has not yet been able to establish the two preconditions – military
professionalism and strong and effective democracy – essential for a
sustained civilian control over the military.
The review in Chapter Two of general theories pertinent to military political
withdrawal suggested that withdrawal is a very complex process. It
frequently develops and interacts with the ongoing, broader and
multifaceted political processes of a regime change toward a fully
democratic civilian rule. Chapter Three’s review of the history of military
politics of the previous Indonesian regime showed that there has been a
long and systematic involvement of the military in Indonesian politics. At
the end of this chapter, the table in Appendix 1 is an attempt to draw up an
outline of what, on the basis of this research, appear to be the positive and
negative impacts of the post-1998 military political withdrawal in East
Java. Also based on this case study, the diagram in Appendix 2 is a
diagrammatic interpretation of the complexity of the interrelations between
regime change and military withdrawal that happened in the East Java
case. Seeing how complex the process has been, the achievements so far
should not be underestimated, but it should be seen optimistically as a
crucial impetus and an opportunity to achieve a stable civilian control.
Nevertheless, future efforts must be aimed at solving the problems both of
further professionalization of the military and of democratizing and making
359
the civilian political system effective, in response to the negative side
effects of the post-New Order military withdrawal from politics or the
legacies of the previous regimes, including the New Order, having not
been completely solved simply by the withdrawal. An essential element of
any such future efforts must be a continuing study and monitoring of the
cultures and practices of the military, and their possible interactions with
the politics of the civilian society, at the local levels. Only through this can
an adequate picture and understanding be achieved.
This study, hopefully, has suggested the usefulness of a more extensive
exploration of local case study of military politics in Indonesia in the future.
It has described the complexity of changes in Indonesian military politics in
terms of the process and the impact of the military’s political withdrawal in
East Java during the period from 1998 to 2003. More studies, however,
will be definitely needed. As I said earlier, this study is not intended to be a
representative sample of Indonesia’s geographical diversity, nor of all
aspects of local military politics. There might be some similarities between
the cases from one area to another, but there is also great potential for
difference. For example, political behaviour of the local elites and local
military officers and soldiers varies because of different personal interests
as that this study has demonstrated in East Java. One factor that needs to
be researched in different provinces is whether or not a systematic effort
was made by the local military to revive lost political networks – as found
in the East Java case. Such research would need to consider the possibly
different nature of the military’s political and economic interests in different
areas. In addition, the changing timeframe of the studies will produce new
areas of attention. From 2003 onward, many changes have happened, for
example, the military has been completely withdrawn from local
parliaments since 2004, and new bupatis/ mayors have been elected
directly by the people. Further changes have occurred in military politics at
the local level, and this should be matched by further study across the
archipelago and over time. Not only will this give a more comprehensive
picture about the changing nature of Indonesian military politics, in the
360
long run, this will also enable us to build better theoretical models of the
process and impact of the military withdrawal from politics.
Appendix 1
Positive and negative impacts of the withdrawal of the military from
politics in East Java
Pre-withdrawal local events and Impacts
on Military-society relations
361
• (-) Collapse of Law and Order
Examples:
- Mass strikes, demonstrations burning and looting of government offices
- Mob attacks on Chinese
- Land reclaimed by villagers
- Sorcerer (Dukun Santet) and Ninja murders)
• (+) Emergence of civilian social forces from what had been
“floating mass”
Example:
Mushrooming of PGR communication post shelters ~ representing a
strong social force independent and resistant to the military
• Demoralization of military :
- Lost self confidence or unwillingness to take responsibility.
- Worries about taking wrong side (pro or anti-reform).
- Cynical, apathetic and reluctant to carry out security tasks.
- Cynical and anxious toward the emergence of strong groups of social
forces resistant to military.
- Confused leaderships and increased competition between the military
and police.
- Weakening institutional control over the involvement of military rogue
personnel in crimes.
(+) restrained the local military from using coercive power,
(-) worsened security.
So,
• (+) De-legitimized military political power, opened more space
for political participation (mobilization) and increased the
pressure on the military to withdraw from politics.
• (-) violent, chaotic forms of political participation,
mobilization, competition and ineffective security forces
complicated efforts to restore effective democracy.
De-politicization of Territorial Command’s key political elements ~
Sospol, Wansospol, Bakorstada and Litsus.
•
(+) dismantling of political elements of military territorial
units.
- Sospol was replaced by Komsos ~ reducing political function from
controlling political activities of Koter to helping administration aspects of
F-TNI/POLRI at DPRD.
- Abolition of Wansospol ~ removing the authority of territorial
commanders to determine the occupation of the positions of Bupati/
Mayor or other government positions.
- Elimination of Bakorstada ~ removing one of the territorial command’s
political element with strong control over all local socio-political aspects of
local politics.
- Elimination of Litsus ~ removing a security screening useful fro
monitoring and controlling political aspirations and activities.
362
Demilitarization
parliament.
•
of
local
government
bureaucracy
and
local
(+) Removing military’s presence in and direct controls over the
local government bureaucracy and its policies ~ a big cut in
political and economic power.
Impacts on (former) karya officers
• Loss of non-military lucrative jobs ~
(+) reducing attractiveness of civilian (political or economic) jobs to
military personnel.
(-) created military institution’s burden to provide jobs for organization
thousands of personnel just withdrawn to the headquarters.
(-) negative views of these personnel who blamed democratization and
reformasi for their harder situations.
• (+) Collapse of political career of (former) military bupati/ mayor ~
could discourage other military personnel to involve in politics.
• (+) Minimizing the power of the military (F-TNI/POLRI) faction at
the local parliament/ DPRD
- seat number halved to ten percent of the total seats in 1999; and all
gone in 2004.
- no more military officer held the position of the Speaker of the DPRD or
the Head of DPRD Committees;
- the jobs of F-TNI/POLRI members were treated by the military
institutions as less important, recruited from lower rank officers,;
- public resistance/ isolation to the F-TNI/POLRI grew).
Impacts on territorial units (Koter)
(+) Loss of financial sources for political activities.
(-) there were still various personal (temporary) approaches
among the military commanders, F-TNI/POLRI members or other
faction members of DPRD, and local government officials.
• (-) no significant change in Army personnel’s views about Koter as
easy money-making jobs needed to compensate small formal
salary, to prepare for retirement for the rank and file soldiers (e.g.
Babinsa’s political function was deactivated but the structure was
still there, can be revitalized when needed) and to gain financial
supports for career development for career officers ~ individual
reactions to the abolition of Koter was negative and partly was
influenced by intention to maintain this personnel’s economic
reason.
• (-) professionalization of Koter has become more difficult ~
- while the outside sources of money dried up, the fund for military
professionalism development get shorter ; the inside-sourced corruption
is likely to get worse;
- uncompleted separation of the military and police reduced opportunity
for the military to concentrate on its professional matter; it also let the
door to security-related political issues remain open for the military.
•
•
363
•
(+) Lifting obligation of the local military to support the national
ruling party (Golkar) and its programs.
Decentralization of government administrative
•
•
•
•
(+) Reducing control of provincial and central military headquarters
over local politics.
(+) Reducing military’s control through the executive leader over
other local institutions (legislative or judiciary).
(+) Increase the DPRD’s control over the security fund assistance
provided the local government for the local military.
(-) Increased the salary of the DPRD members dramatically, and
this made the jobs of F-TNI/POLRI became more attractive as
easy money-making jobs for the officers and consequently,
contributed to the conflicts between the Kodam headquarter and
DPRD over the replacements of F-TNI/POLRI members who
364
•
refused to be replaced.
(+) Elimination of social political office (kansospol), a militaryheaded office, within the local government, thus removing the
military’s channel whose authority to supervise political activities of
government employees, social and political organizations, and
local societies.
Impacts of pre-withdrawal events and withdrawal policies on
military roles and ability to control the outcomes of Bupati/ Mayor
Elections (Pilkada)
• (+) Stronger control of local politics by civilian
- Consistent decline of military roles and ability to control the outcomes of
the Pilkada ~ military faced serious challenge from civilian faction in 1998
Pilkada where the intimidation and bribe was effective to steer the
election result; military defeated in 1999/2000 Pilkada as threat and bribe
was not effective to influence the civilian factions; since 2000 Pilkada the
miliary became the minor player either because of existence of single
majority civilian faction or because of military being left out by civilian big
factions affiliation.
• (-) Weakening control of the military institution over the
political activities of local military officers involved in Pilkada
(F-TNI/POLRI members and some territorial officers) ~
- military factions were divided and conflicting because of personal
reasons, mainly to gain economic benefits fro the elections, and as the
result the military position in the elections were various and
unpredictable.
- Civilian politicians and local branches of political parties seeking the
backup from the military officers were also responsible in keeping these
military officers deeply and actively involved in the elections. The spirit to
find the best leader through the Pilkada was undermined by the short
term interest for money and power by the politicians and political parties.
Impacts of pre-withdrawal events and withdrawal policies on civilian
politics without TNI
•
•
•
(+) Increased involvement of grassroots political participation
(mobilization)
(-) Apart from a wider freedom in electoral participation, the
involvement was still characterized by money-making driven
involvement, chaotic, violent, elite-manipulated forms, such as in
the PDIP’s PGR shelter 1998 activities, PKB’s 1999 anti-female
president ban, PDIP’s 1999 blood thumb print, or PKB’s 2001
Gusdur impeachment crisis.
(+) A significant change in local elite sources – from a militarydominated elite group toward more diversified civilian elite groups
including former painted labourer, former vegetable street vendor,
former cassava farmer, former security guard – despite the fact
that local politics was still strongly dominated by elites.
365
•
•
•
(-) Weak institutionalization of major political parties ~ politicians
lacked moral standard, unable to solve internal conflicts
democratically, lacked internal solidity and loyalty to their own
parties, and parties’ weak control over the political activities of their
cadres.
(+/-) More variation in local government (Pemda) – local
parliament (DPRD) relations ~ executive dominated politics was
still found, but there are other three new patterns of relations were
emerging, e.g. legislature domination, collusive, and conflicting
relations.
(+/-) So, political participation has broadened, but still need to
be more organized by political institutions that has began to
institutionalize, yet in a limited way.
Appendix. 2
Possible links between military political withdrawal (in post-1999
East Java case), past military political intervention, and various
degrees of civilian control and democracy
Greater pressures from international
community for democratization
Positive Impacts
(For democratization): e.g.
Limited military involvement in
politics and in internal security.
Greater political freedom and
stronger control of local politics by
civilian.
Detail in Appendix 1.
Reversal Impacts
(Against democratization): e.g.
- Less fund for military professionalism
- Deterioration of internal security
management
- Self-seeking civilian politicians and
political parties
(Detail in Appendix 1)
Chart
IV.1: Model
of Possible
between
Military and Democr
Democratization
/ Process
of MilitaryShifts
Political
Withdrawal
Military regime
Illiberal democracy
Semi-authoritarian
Democratic regime
(Stronger Military Control) (Stronger Civilian Control)
Semi-democracy
Previous Militarization/ Military Political Intervention
366
Reversal Impacts
(For democratization): e.g.
Stronger domestic pressures for
democratization
Institutionalization of state bureaucracy
Strong military institutional control over
political activities of individual officers
Negative impacts
(Against democratization): e.g.
- Undemocratic political system
- Too strong military political power
- Lack of democratic experiences
-Undeveloped civilian political
culture
Negative Influence of Historical Legacies, e.g.
The nature of nation-state building: depends
heavily on military power
The nature of military establishment which is too
independent from the government.
The low level of (democratic) socio-political
culture
Appendix. 3
Composition of Interviewees from East Java
Groups of
Interviewees
Local Military
Jobs/ Positions
Territorial
Commander
unit officers Staff
Combat unit Commander
officers
Staff
FChairman
TNI/POLRI Member
of District
DPRD
Rank and File Soldiers
Retired Officer/ Soldier
Police Officers
Speaker of DPRD/ Deputy
of the Speaker
(both military and civilians)
F-DIP
Chairman
Total and
Reference
Number of
interviewees Codes in
Footnotes
6
9
78
3
M
5
26
8
8
5
6
24
10
Included in
the
fractions’
codes
13
367
Members
F-KB
Members
F-Golkar (FKP)
Members
F-PPP
Members
F-PAN
Members
Member
Chairman
Member
Chairman
Member
Civilian
members of
36 District
DPRDs
(Note: 2other
Chairman
Districts were
Member
not visited:
Chairman
Bondowoso
Member
and Jombang)
Bureaucrats of
Bupati/ Mayor
District
Senior Officials
Government
Secretary of DPRD
Village Heads (in Regencies of Malang,
Pasuruan, and Jember)
Villagers (in Malang Regency only)
NGO Activists/ Journalists/ Academics
Total
3
8
5
6
7
D
13
K
13
G
4
1
3
1
5
P
4
A
5
5
13
8
6
9
30
B
14
V
9
O
163
368
Appendix. 4
Possible changes in patterns of military withdrawal
PACK-LIKE DICTATED
(The military is politically stronger than
the civilian opposition)
Phase 1:
Tendency toward
Seeks some electoral legitimacy
Transformation
Phase 2:
Liberalization and
Promise of limited democratization
Phase 3:
Resurrection of civil society (with
possible mild and short popular
upsurge)
Democratic
PACT
Transition
(The military is in equal strength with
the civilian opposition)
Tendency toward
Replacement
Phase 4:
model
Explicit or implicit negotiations (mutual
guarantees) and agreement – pact
Phase 5:
More
liberalization
and
wider
democratization
Phase 6:
Growing civil society with perhaps more
popular upsurge
Phase 7a:
ABDICATED
Full
Tendency toward
democratization (The military is
Transplacement
(with securing of politically weaker
than the civilian
in
abdicated
some military’s
opposition)
stage
vital interests)
Phase 7b:
Full democratization
through
relinquishment
(without securing
any military’s vital
interests)
Democratic Consolidation
Sources: The table is modified from Brooker’s Figure 8.2, Three basic
(non-personalist) types of transition to democracy, which Broker had
modified from its original form previously produced by O’Donnell,
Schimitter and Whitehead’s 1986’s work, Transition form Authoritarian
Rule: Prospect for Democracy. See Brooker, Paul., Non-democratic
Regimes: Theory, Government and Politics (London: Macmillan Press,
2000), p. 208.
369
Appendix. 5
Security fund assistance to local military and police units
in ten selected regencies
Districts
Assistance
Malang City.
- Trucks for police (2002 budget)
- Patrol Cars for Kodim & Koramil (2002 budget)
- Computers for Kodim (2002 budget)
- FWD Nissan Terrano for Dandim (being proposed for
2003 budget).
- 1 billion rupiah for police (being proposed for financing
2003 Mayor election)
- Total Security Budget for 2003: 1.15 billions.
Ngawi
- TMD (‘Soldiers Enter the Village’) program funded by
Regency
the local government.
- Cash money: 75 million rupiah/ year.
Ponorogo
- Security budget for 2002 only 50 million rupiah.
Regency
- 1 Kijang LGX (FWD Light Truck) for “Mobil Dinas”
(Official Car) for Dandim, through Commission A
(Commission for Public Service)
- In 2003 increased to 200 millions rupiah.
Sumenep
- 25 units Motor Cycles for Danramil and Kapolsek (2002
Regency
budget).
- Mobil Dinas (Official Cars) for Dandim (District
Commander) and Kapores (Police Chief).
- Patrol Funding: 210 millions rupiah/ year (700,000
rupiah each Koramil/Polsek, 2003 budget)
- Joint Patrol: 90 million/year (2003 budget).
- Ambulance for Police.
- Speed Boat for patrol (being proposed for 2004
budget).
Banyuwangi
- Mobil Dinas (Official Car) for Naval Base Commander.
Regency
- Van L-300 Mitsubishi for Persit (Soldiers’ Wives
Association) of District Command HQ.
- Land and buildings for Sub-District Command’s
observation posts.
- Building Renovation for District Command HQ’s offices.
- Housing Renovation for Naval Base.
- Renovation of Rumah Dinas (Official House) of Dandim.
- Building Sea Security Posts for the Naval Unit.
- 36 Communication tools (mobile phones) for Kodim.
- Financial Assistance for Military and Police Units: 500
million rupiah/year.
Batu Regency - Vehicles for territorial Commander of Batu.
- Building new offices for Batu Police (2001: 100 million
rupiah, 2002: 150 million rupiah, 2003: 350 million
rupiah).
- TMD since 2000 was funded by the local government
370
Bangkalan
Regency
Nganjuk
Regency
Jember
Regency
Situbondo
Regency
every year.
- 2003: 45 million rupiah for Kodim and 60 million for
Polres.
- FWD Kijang LGX for Mobil Dinas for Dandim
- 2002: 200 million rupiah for Kodim.
- 2003: only 50 million rupiah for Police.
- 2003: 270 million rupiah for TMD.
- TMD: 160 million/year.
- Land for Koramil HQ.
- Motor cycles for Sub-District Command.
- Communication tools: Mobile phones for Sub-District
Command.
- A brand new FWD Kinjang LGX for Dandim
- A patrol sedan for District Police.
- Housing renovations for Naval Base.
- In 2002 TMD program: rehabilitation of police housings.
- For 2003 the security assistance budget is 1 billion, out
of 9 billion of the Government’s total revenue.
Sources: Collected from various interviews with DPRD members during 2003.
371
Appendix. 6
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of a Provincial DPRD (Cover only)
372
Appendix. 7
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of a District DPRD (Cover only)
373
Appendix. 8
The Election Committee of the 1994 Jember Bupati Election
Military Officers
374
Appendix. 9
The Election Committee of the 2000 Sumenep Bupati Election
A military officer
375
Appendix. 10
The F-KB Criteria for the Bupati/Vice-Bupati Candidates in the 2000
Gresik Election
Translates: Purely civilian
376
Appendix. 11
The F-DIP Criteria for the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati Candidates in the 2000
Gresik Election
-
Purely civilian, non-military
serving or retired.
Out of the New Order regime
377
Appendix. 12
A Local Newspaper Clipping: “A Pedi cab driver registered as the
Vice Bupati Candidate” in the 2003 Madiun Bupati Election
378
Appendix. 13
The Complete Documents of the Election submitted for an approval
of the 2000 -2005 Bupati/ Vice Bupati of Situbondo Regency (Cover
only)
379
Appendix. 14
Chronology of the Impeachment of
Drs. Bambang Dwi Hartomo, M.Pd. as Surabaya Mayor
(Cover only)
380
Appendix. 15
The Decision of Surabaya Court
on the Sampang Bupati Election Dispute
(Cover only)
381
Appendix. 16
The (1999) Decision of the Commander in Chief of the Indonesian
Armed Forces for the Assignment of Officers in Civilian Karya Jobs
(Cover only)
382
Appendix. 17
The (1996) Decision of the Commander in Chief of the Indonesian
Armed Forces for the Assignment of Officers in Civilian Karya Jobs
(Cover only)
383
Appendix. 18
The 2002 LPJ (End-of-Year Accountability Report) of the Malang
Bupati
(Cover only)
384
Appendix. 19
An allocation of Security Funds in the Local Government Budget
(Malang Regency 2002)
20. Sektor Keamanan dan Ketertiban Umum
(Public Security and Order)
2.584.65.000,00
Jumlah (Total)
585.021.421.424,64
385
Appendix. 20
The Guiding Book for the Military’s Civic Mission at District Level
(Cover only)
386
Appendix. 21
The salary of the Members of DPRD
According to the Government Regulation No. 110/ 2000
(A front page only)
- Representative
allowance
- Package allowance
- Functional allowance
- Committee allowance
- Special allowance
- Income improvement
allowance
387
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McFetridge, Charles Donald, “Seskoad – Training the Elite,” Indonesia, No. 36,
October 1983.
McKown, R. E., “Domestic Correlates of Military Intervention in African Politics”,
Journal of Political and Military Sociology, Vol.3, No.2, Fall 1975, pp. 191
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McVey, Ruth, “The Post-Revolutionary Transformation of the Indonesian Army,”
Part I, Indonesia 11 (April 1971): 131-176.
McVey, Ruth, “The Post-Revolutionary Transformation of the Indonesian Army,”
Part II, Indonesia 13 (April 1972): 147-182.
Moskos, Charles, “From Institution to Occupation: Trends in Military Organization,”
Armed Forces and Society, 4, Fall 1977, pp. 41-50.
Nielsen, Suzanne C., “Civil-Military Relations Theory and Military Effectiveness,”
Public Administration and Management, Vol. 10, No. 2, 2005, pp.5-28.
Pauker, Guy J., “Current Communist Tactics in Indonesia”, Asian Survey, Vol. 1,
No. 3 (May, 1961), pp. 26-35.
Perlmutter, Amos, “The Praetorian State and the Praetorian Army: Toward a
Taxonomy of Civil Military Relations in Developing Polities”, Comparative
Politics, Vol. 1, No. 3, April 1969, pp. 382-404.
Pershing, Timothy, “Transition from Authoritarian rule and Regime consolidation:
Leaving Democracy Out”, Brandeis Graduate Journal, Vol. 2, 2004.
Prasetyono, Edy, “Keaman Nasional: Tataran kewenangan, Penggunaan
Instrument Keamanan, dan Keamanan Manusia,” [National Security: On
Level of Authority, Use of Security Instruments and Human Security],
CSIS Working Paper, WPI 062, 2005.
Rustow, Dankwart A., “Transition to Democracy: Toward a Dynamic Model”,
Comparative Politics, Vol.2, No. 3, April 1970, pp. 337-363.
401
Said, Salim, “Soeharto’s Armed Forces: Building a Power Base in New Order
Indonesia 1966-1998”, Asian Survey Vol.XXXVIII, No. 6, June 1998, pp.
535-552.
Samego, Indria, “Di Wilayah Pelosok, Koter Sangat Besar Fungsinya” [In Remote
Area, Territorial Command Has Great Function], Forum Keadilan, No. 26,
October 2003.
Schiff, Rebecca L., “Civil-Military Relations: A Theory of Concordance,” Armed
Forces and Society, 22, 1, 1995.
Schiller, Jim, “The 1997 Indonesian elections: ‘Festival of Democracy’ or Costly
‘Fiction’, Centre for Asia-Pacific Initiatives, Occasional Paper, 1999.
Shin, Doh Chull, “On the Third Wave of Democratization: A Synthesis and
Evaluation of Recent Theories and Research, World Politics, Vol. 47. No.
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Siegal, James T., “Suharto Witches”, Indonesia, issue 71, 2001, pp. 27-78.
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Sukardi, “Land For People” Inside Indonesia, January-March 2002.
Sundhaussen, Ulf, “Military Withdrawal from Government Responsibility”, Armed
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Sundhaussen, Ulf, “Penarikan Diri Militer Dari Pemerintah”, Prisma, July 1995.
Sundhaussen, Ulf, “Indonesia’s New Order: A Model for Myanmar?”, Asian
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Valenzuela, Arturo, “A Note on the Military and Social Science Theory,” Third
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Weatherbee, David E., “Indonesian Armed Forces: Rejuvenation and
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Wells, Richard S., “The Theory of Concordance in civil/military relations: A
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402
3. Unpublished Works
Mahony, Inez, “The Role of Dukun in Contemporary East Java: A case
study of Banyuwangi Dukun”, Research Report to Faculty of Social
Science and Politics, University of Muhammadyah Malang,
December 2002.
McGregor, Katherine E., Claiming History: Military Representation of the Past in
Museums, Monuments and Other Sources of Official History from Late
Guided Democracy to the New Order (Unpublished Ph.D. Thesis,
University of Melbourne, 2002).
Patriadi, Himawan Bayu., Transition from military rule: Thailand and Indonesia
comparison. (Unpublished Master Thesis, Flinders University, 1997).
4. Laws and Regulations
The Decision of the Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces of Indonesia No.
Skep/811/XII/1996, dated 4 December 1996, about Authority,
Responsibility, and Mechanism of the Karya Officer Assignment to and
Withdrawal from the Civilian Governmental Executive (Surat Keputusan
Panglima Angkatan Bersenjata tentang Wewenang, Tanggng Jawab,
Tata Cara Penugaskarayaan dan Penarikan karayawan ABRI di bidang
Eksekutif).
Law No. 3/ 2002 about the National Defence of the Indonesian Republic (UU RI
No. 3 Tahun 2002 Tentang Pertahanan Negara).
Law No. 5/1974 of the Republic of Indonesia about the Regional
Government (UU RI No. 5 tahun 1974 tentang Penyelenggaraan
Pemerintahan di Daerah)
The Regulation of the Minister of Home Affair No. 10/ 1974 about the
procedure for the nomination, selection, and the inauguration of
the local government heads (Peraturan Mentri Dalam Negeri No.
10 Tahun 1974 tentang Tata Cara Pencalonan, Pemilihan dan
Pengangkatan Kepala Daerah).
The Decision of the Armed Forces Commander of Indonesia (Surat Keputusan
Panglima Angkatan Bersenjata), No: Skep/811/XII/1996, 4 December
1996 on procedures for the assignment of military officer in civilian
executive jobs.
The Decision of the Commander in Chief of the Indonesian Armed Forces about
the Withdrawal of Military Officers from Karya Assignments (Keputusan
Menhankam/ Pangab tentang Penerikan Perwira ABRI dari Tugas
Karya) Nomor: Kep/03/P/II/1999, issued 15 February 1999.
403
The Decision of the President of the Republic of Indonesia about the Procedure of
the Candidature of Military Officers in the National, Provincial and District
Parliaments (Keputusan Presiden Republik Indonesia tentang cara
pencalonan angota DPR, DPRD Propinsi, dan DPRD Kabupaten/ Kota
dari Angkatan Bersenjata), No. 76/ 1999.
The Regulation of the Government of the Republic of Indonesia about the
Financial Matters (and Salaries of the Members) of the Provincial and
District Parliament (Peraturan Pemerintah Republik Indonesia tentang
Kedudukan Keuangan Dewan Perwakilan Daerah) No. 110/ 2000.
5. Official Documents
5.1. Issued by military institutions (Central and Local Headquarters, and Provincial
and District F-TNI/POLRI)
“Bunga Rampai TNI’s New Paradigm, TNI Social Communication Staff” (Bunga
Rampai Paradima Baru TNI), 2003.
“Data about Geography, Demography, Social Conditions and Personnel of the
Regional Command V/ Brawijaya” (Data Geo, Demo, Konsos dan Pers
Kowil Jajaran Kodam V/ Brawijaya), 2003.
“Guidance for Operational Development of Indonesian Army Territorial Tasks”
(Pokok – Pokok Penyelenggaraan Pembinaan Territorial TNI Angkatan
Dara), issued by Indonesian Army Headquarters, 30 January 2003.
“Guidance for Operational Development of Territorial Tasks at District Level”
(Buku Pedoman tentang Penyelenggaraan Operasi Bhakti Tingkat
Kodim), issued by Indonesian Army Headquarters, April 2002.
“Indonesian Army Doctrine”, Doktrin Perjuangan TNI-AD “Tri Ubaya Cakti”,
Jakarta: Seskoad, Angkatan Darat, 1966.
“Indonesian Nationalism Perspective” (Penjelasan Kasad tentang Wawasan
Kebangsaan), by General Ryamizar RC, the Chief of Staff of the
Indonesian Army, Augustus 2003.
“Just be nice to the people” (Baik – Baik Saja dengan Rakyat), Speech text by the
Territorial Assistant of the Chief of staff of the Indonesian Army, in the
Headquarters of Kodam V/ Brawijaya, about Main Guidelines for the
Territorial Operational Development, 4 July 2003.
Letter of Commander of Surabaya Military Sub-Regional Command, K/ 01/ I/
2001, 11 January 2001, to the Commander of Sampang District Military
Command, instructing the recall of Ltc. Chb Muchiban from F-TNI/POLRI
of Sampang DPRD and Mayor Supandi from the Kansospol of the
District Government of Sampang.
404
Letter of the Commander in Chief of Kodam V/ Barawijaya No. R/37/I/2003, 22
January 2003, to the Commander in Chief of the Armed Forces of
Indonesia, the explanation about the alleged abuse of the Surabaya
DPRD’s budget (that involved the F-TNI/POLRI members).
Letter of the Commander in Chief of Kodam V/ Barawijaya No. R/40/I/2003, 24
January 2003, to the Chief of Staff of the Indonesian Army, the
explanation about the alleged involvement of F-TNI/POLRI members in
the conflict between the F-KB members of DPRD of Probolinggo against
President Abdurrahman Wahid.
Letter of the Commander in Chief of Kodam V/ Barawijaya No. R/67/IX/2003, 27
September 2002, to the Governor of East Java, requesting a permission
from the Governor to conduct an investigation of a member of FTNI/POLRI allegedly involved in an illegal foundation called Yayasan
Amalillah.
Letter of the Territorial Assistant of Kodam V/ Brawijaya, No. R/378/ VI/ 2002, 7
June 2002, to the Speaker of DPRD of Tulungagung Regency about the
recall of two members of F-TNI/POLRI.
Letter of the Territorial Assistant of Kodam V/ Brawijaya, No. R/346/ VI/ 2002, 28
May 2002, to the Speaker of DPRD of Malang Regency about the recall
of two members of F-TNI/POLRI.
Letter of the Territorial Assistant of Kodam V/ Brawijaya, No. R/344/ VI/ 2002, 28
May 2002, to the Speaker of DPRD of Mojokerto Regency about the
recall of a member of F-TNI/POLRI.
Letter of the Territorial Assistant of Kodam V/ Brawijaya, No. R/345/ VI/ 2002, 28
May 2002, to the Speaker of DPRD of Situbondo Regency about the
recall of a member of F-TNI/POLRI.
Letter of the Territorial Assistant of Kodam V/ Brawijaya, No. R/348/ VI/ 2002, 28
May 2002, to the Speaker of DPRD of Surabaya City about the recall of a
member of F-TNI/POLRI.
Letter of the Territorial Assistant of Kodam V/ Brawijaya, No. R/347/ VI/ 2002, 28
May 2002, to the Speaker of DPRD of Mojokerto Regency about the
recall of a member of F-TNI/POLRI.
Monthly Report by Kodam V’s Teritorial Assistant to the Commnader in Chief of
the Arned Forces of Indonesia about important issues regarding the jobs
of the F-TNI/POLRI (Laporan Asisten Territorial Kodam V/ Brawijaya
kepada Panglima TNI tentang Masalah yang Menonjol dan Kinerja
Fraksi TNI-POLRI DPRD se Jawa Timur) July 2003.
405
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of Bangkalan District to the Provincial
Territorial Commander (Laporan Bulanan F-TNI/POLRI DPRD
Bangkalan kepada Pangdam), August 2003.
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of Bondowoso District to the Provincial
Territorial Commander (Laporan Bulanan F-TNI/POLRI DPRD
Bondowoso kepada Pangdam), July 2003.
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of East Java Province to the Provincial
Territorial Commander (Laporan Bulanan F-TNI/POLRI DPRD Propinsi
Jawa Timur kepada Pangdam), July 2003.
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of Kediri District to the Provincial Territorial
Commander (Laporan Bulanan F-TNI/POLRI DPRD Kediri kepada
Pangdam), July 2003.
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of Lumajang District to the Provincial
Territorial Commander (Laporan Bulanan F-TNI/POLRI DPRD Lumajang
kepada Pangdam), July 2003.
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of Madiun City to the Provincial Territorial
Commander (Laporan Bulanan F-TNI/POLRI DPRD Madiun City kepada
Pangdam), July 2003.
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of Madiun District to the Provincial Territorial
Commander (Laporan Bulanan F-TNI/POLRI DPRD Madiun kepada
Pangdam), July 2003.
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of Malang City to the Provincial Territorial
Commander (Laporan Bulanan F-TNI/POLRI DPRD Kota Malang
kepada Pangdam), July 2003.
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of Nganjuk District to the Provincial Territorial
Commander (Laporan Bulanan F-TNI/POLRI DPRD Nganjuk kepada
Pangdam), August 2003.
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of Pamekasan District to the Provincial
Territorial Commander (Laporan Bulanan F-TNI/POLRI DPRD
Pamekasan kepada Pangdam), August 2003.
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of Probolinggo District to the Provincial
Territorial Commander (Laporan Bulanan F-TNI/POLRI DPRD
Probolinggo kepada Pangdam), July 2003.
Monthly Report of the F-TNI/POLRI of Tulungagung District to the Provincial
Territorial Commander (Laporan Bulanan F-TNI/POLRI DPRD
Tulungagung kepada Pangdam), July 2003.
Number of Crime by its Kind in Malang Regency during 2000 and 2001 issued by
the State Police of Malang Regencyin 2001.
406
“Paradigma Baru Peran ABRI: Sebuah Usaha Sosialisasi” [New Paradigm of
ABRI’s Role: A Socialisation Attempt], (Jakarta: Mabes TNI, 1999)
Quarterly Report of the F-TNI/OLRI of Malang City to the Provincial Territorial
Commander (Laporan Bulanan F-TNI/POLRI DPRD Malang kepada
Pangdam), July 2003.
“Redifinisi, Reposisi, Reaktualisasi, Peran TNI dalam Kehidupan Bangsa”
[Redefintion, Reposition, and Reactualization of TNI’s Role in the National
Life], (Jakarta: Mabes TNI, 1999).
The Final Opinion of F-TNI/POLRI of DPRD of Ponorogo Regency on the 2002’s
End-of-Year Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of Ponorogo
(Pendapat Akhir F-DIP DPRD Ponorogo terhadap Laporan
Pertanggung-jawaban Bupati Ponorogo
Akhir Tahun Anggaran 2002).
The Final Opinion of F-TNI/POLRI of DPRD of Ponorogo Regency on the 2001’s
End-of-Year Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of Ponorogo
(Pendapat Akhir F-DIP DPRD Ponorogo terhadap Laporan
Pertanggung-jawaban Bupati Ponorogo Akhir Tahun Anggaran 2001).
The Final Opinion of F-TNI/POLRI of DPRD of Sumenep Regency on the 2002’s
End-of-Year Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of Ponorogo
(Pendapat Akhir F-DIP DPRD Ponorogo terhadap Laporan
Pertanggung-jawaban Bupati Sumenep Akhir Tahun Anggaran 2002).
Yearly Evaluation Report of Working Program of Territorial Staff of Kodam V/
Brawiaya, 1999/2000 (Laporan Evaluasi Tahunan Program Kerja Staf
Teritorial Koodam V/ Brawijaya, 1999/2000).
Yearly Evaluation Report of Working Program of Territorial Staff of Kodam V/
Brawiaya, 2001 (Laporan Evaluasi Tahunan Program Kerja Staf Teritorial
Koodam V/ Brawijaya, 2001).
Yearly Report of Kodam V’s Territorial Staff (Laporan Pelaksanaan Program Kerja
Kodam V/ Brawiaya bidang Territorial), 2000.
Yearly Report of Kodam V’s Territorial Staff (Laporan Pelaksanaan Program Kerja
Kodam V/ Brawiaya bidang Territorial), 2002.
5.2. Issued by Local Civilian Institutions
Jawa Timur Dalam Angka 1999 (East Java in Figures 1999), Number of Legal
Votes at Second Level [District] Parliament members in East Java by
Regency/Municipality.
407
Salainan Keputusan Pengadilan Tata Usaha Negara Surabaya No. 82/ G. TUN/
2000/ PTUN. SBY antara Hasan Abrory, MA. Dkk melawan Ketua
Panitia Pemilihan Bupati dan Wakil Bupati Sampang Periode 2000 –
2005 DPRD Kabupaten Sampang.
Decisions of the DPRDs of Jember, No. 20/ 1999, October 25th 1999; Situbondo,
No. 7/1999, November 2nd 1999; Lamongan No. 31/1999, October 25th
1999; and Gresik No. 170/ 309/ 403.40/1999, October 27th 1999, about
the recommencement of the Pilkada based on the New Autonomy Law
No 22/1999. Issued by the Biro Bina Otonomi Daerah Jawa Timur (East
Java Local Autonomy Building Office), Permasalahan Enam Kepala
Daerah Tk II Provinsi Jawa Timur.
Batu City
The Examiner Team’s Decision on the Examination Result of the Administrative
Requirements of the candidates of the Mayor/ Vice Mayor of Batu 2002 2007 (Berita Acara Tim Penilaian Administrasi tentang Hasil
Pemeriksaan Berkas Persyaratan Calon Walikota/ Wakil Walikota Batu
2002 – 2007), 1 November 2002.
The Election Committee’s Declaration of the result of the Mayor/ Vice-Mayor
Election in Batu City, 2002 - 2007 (Berita Acara Hasil Penghitungan
Suara Dalam Pemilihan Calon Walikota dan Calon Wakil Walikota Batu
Masa Jabatan Tahun 2002 -2007), 4 November 2002.
Bangkalan Regency
The Election Committee’s Declaration of the result of the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
Election in Bangkalan Regency, 2003 - 2008 (Berita Acara Hasil
Penghitungan Suara Dalam Pemilihan Calon Bupati dan Calon Wakil
Bupati Bangkalan Masa Jabatan Tahun 2003 -2008), No. 131/ 11/
PANMIL/ 443.043/ 2003, 6 January 2003.
The structures of DPRD leaderships, Committees’ memberships of Bangkalan
DPRD for the period 1999 – 2004.
Banyuwangi Regency
The 2002’s End-of-Year Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of
Banyuwangi (Laporan Pertanggung-jawaban Bupati Banyuwangi Akhir
Tahun Anggaran 2002).
The Final Opinion of F-Golkar of DPRD of Banyuwangi on the 2002’s End-of-Year
Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of Banyuwangi (Pendapat
Akhir F-DIP DPRD Banyuwangi terhadap Laporan Pertanggungjawaban Bupati Banyuwangi Akhir Tahun Anggaran 2002).
408
The Final Opinion of F-DIP of DPRD of Banyuwangi on the 2002’s End-of-Year
Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of Banyuwangi (Pendapat
Akhir F-DIP DPRD Banyuwangi terhadap Laporan Pertanggungjawaban Bupati Banyuwangi Akhir Tahun Anggaran 2002).
The Final Opinion of F-TNI/POLRI of DPRD of Banyuwangi Regency on the
2002’s End-of-Year Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of
Banyuwangi (Pendapat Akhir F-DIP DPRD Banyuwangi terhadap
Laporan Pertanggung-jawaban Bupati Banyuwangi Akhir Tahun
Anggaran 2002).
The Appendix 1 to the Decision of the East Java Governor, No. 171.439/ 12/ 012/
1999, 19 August 1999, about the list of names of members of
Banyuwangi DPRD.
Letter of the Speaker of the DPRD of Banyuwangi Regency No. 170/ 622/
439.040/ 1999, 24 September 1999, to the Minister of Home Affair, about
the resignation of H. Turyono Purnomo Sidik from Bupati of Banyuwangi.
Letter of H. Turyono Purnomo Sidik, dated 23 December 1999, to the Minister of
Home Affair, proposing permission to resign for Bupati of Banywangi.
DPRD’s Decision No. 22/ 1999, 27 December 1999 on the approval of the
resignation of H. Turyono Purnomo Sidik from Bupati of Banyuwangi.
DPRD’s Decision on the Election Committee of Bupati/ Vice-Bupati Banyuwangi
Regency 2000 – 2005 (Keputusan DPRD tentang Panitia Pemilihan
Calon Kepala Daerah dan Wakil Kepala Daerah Kabupaten Banyuwangi
Masa Jabatan 2000 – 2005), No. 01/ 2000, 6 March 2000.
Card Vote Example of the 2000 Banyuwangi Bupati/ Vice-Bupati Election (Contoh
Kartu Pemilihan dalam Pemilihan Buapti/ Wakil Bupati Banyuwangi
2000).
Letter of Drs. Ec. H. Abdul Kadir, Msi, 8 May 2000 to the F-TNI/OLRI of
Banyuwangi proposing in order to be registered as Bupati Candidate
through the F-TNI/POLRI.
Letter of DPRD No. 171/ 326/ 439.040/ 2000, 2 June 2000, to the Minister of
Home Affairs reporting the completion of 2000 Banyuwangi Buapti/ Vice
Bupati Election.
DPRD’s Decision No 18/ 2000, 13 April 2000, on the Technical Manual of the
2000 Banyuwangi Bupati/ Vice Bupati Election.
DPRD’s Decision on the nominated candidates of Banyuwangi’s Bupati/ ViceBupati 2000 – 2005 (Berita Acara DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama –
nama Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Kabupaten Banyuwangi 2000 – 2005),
No. 19/ 2000, 19 May 2000.
409
DPRD’s Decision on the elected candidates of Banyuwangi’s Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
2000 – 2005 (Berita Acara DPRD tentang Nama – nama Calon Terpilih
Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Kabupaten Banyuwangi 2000 – 2005), No. 21/
2000, 31 May 2000.
Blitar Regency
The Election Committee’s Decision on the Examination Result of the
Administrative Requirements of the candidates of the Bupati/ Vice Bupati
of Blitar 2001 -2006 (Berita Acara Panitia Pemilihan tentang Hasil
Pemeriksaan Berkas Persyaratan Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Blitar 2001
– 2006), No. 131/ 1016/ 423.040/ 2000, 20 November 2000.
DPRD’s Decision on the nominated candidates of Blitar’s Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
2001 – 2006 (Berita Acara DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama – nama
Calon Bupati/ Wakil Buapati kabupaten Blitar 2001 – 2006), No. 12/
2000, 29 November 2000.
The DPRD’s Declaration of the result of the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati Election in Blitar,
2001 - 2006 (Berita Acara Hasil Penghitungan Suara Dalam Pemilihan
Calon Bupati dan Calon Wakil Bupati Blitar Masa Jabatan Tahun 2001 2006). 6 December 2000.
Blitar City
Personal details of Mayor/ Vice Mayor Candidates of Blitar City in the 2000
Election.
Official Summary of the DPRD General Meeting on 10 July 2000, nominating the
2000 – 2005 Mayor/ vice Mayor Candidates in the 2000 Election.
DPRD’s Decision on the elected candidates of Blitar’s Mayor/ Vice-Mayor 2000 –
2005 (Berita Acara DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama – nama Calon
Terpilih Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Kabupaten Banyuwangi 2000 – 2005), No.
21/ 2000, 20 July 2000.
Bojonegoro Regency
The Election Committee’s Decision on the result of the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
Election in Bojonegoro Regency, 2003 - 2008 (Berita Acara Hasil
Penghitungan Suara Dalam Pemilihan Calon Bupati dan Calon Wakil
Bupati Bojonegoro Masa Jabatan Tahun 2031 -2008), No. 170/ 033/
409.2/ 2003, 10 January 2003.
The structures of DPRD leaderships, Committees memberships of Bojonegoro
DPRD for period 1999 – 2004.
Gresik Regency
410
A collection of complete documents of Gresik 2000 – 2005 Bupati/ Vice Bupati
Election, submitted by the Gresik DPRD to the Minister of Home Affairs
for an approval of the election result, issued by the Secretariat of Gresik
DPRD.
Jember Regency
Summary of the Solution of the Land Conflict, Erfpacht Vrp. 414 Sukoredjo,
between Kodam V/ Brawijaya and Villagers of Karang Redjo,
Sumbersari, Jember Regency.
A collection of complete documents of Jember 2000 – 2005 Bupati/ Vice Bupati
Election, submitted by the Jember DPRD to the Minister of Home Affairs
for an approval of the election result, issued by the Secretariat of Jember
DPRD.
A collection of complete documents of Jember 1994 – 1999 Bupati/ Vice Bupati
Election, submitted by the Jember DPRD to the Minister of Home Affairs
for an approval of the election result, issued by the Secretariat of Jember
DPRD.
Lumajang Regency
DPRD’s Decision on the procedures of the election (Tata Tertib Pemilihan), No.
04/ 2003, 17 May 2003.
DPRD’s Decision on the formation and composition of the Election Committee,
No. 07/ 2003, 03 June 2003.
F-KB’s Letter to the Election Committee about the nominated Buapti/ Vice Bupati
Candidates (Surat Pengajuan F-KB untuk Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati)
2003 – 2008, No.312/ FKB.0.3/ III. 23/ VII/ 2003, 7 July 2003.
F-Golkar’s Letter to the Election Committee about the nominated Bupati/ Vice
Bupati Candidates (Surat Pengajuan F-Golkar untuk Calon Bupati/ Wakil
Bupati) 2003 – 2008, No. 06/ FPG/ VII/ 2003, 7 July 2003.
F-Poros’s Letter to the Election Committee about the nominated Bupati/ Vice
Bupati Candidates (Surat Pengajuan F-Poros untuk Calon Bupati/ Wakil
Bupati) 2003 – 2008, No.11/ 2003, 7 July 2003.
F-TNI/POLRI’s Letter to the Election Committee about the F-TNI/POLRI
nominated Bupati/ Vice Bupati Candidates (Surat Pengajuan FTNI/POLRI Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati) 2003 – 2008, No. 01/ 2003, 7
July 2003.
F-DIP’s Letter to the Election Committee about the F-DIP nominated Bupati/ Vice
Bupati Candidates (Surat Pengajuan F-DIP Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati)
2003 – 2008, No. 08/ KPTS/ F-DIP-P/ VII/ 2003, 7 July 2003.
411
DPRD’s Decision on the nominated candidates of Lumajang’s Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
2003 – 2008 (Berita Acara DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama – nama
Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Kabupaten Lumajang 2003 – 2008), 14 July
2003.
DPRD’s Summary of presentation of Vision and Mission of the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
Potential-Candidates (Pemaparan Visi dan Misi Bakal Calon Bupati/
Wakil Bupati), 9 July 2003.
The Election Committee’s Declaration of the result of the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
Election in Lumajang Regency, 2003 - 2008 (Berita Acara Hasil
Penghitungan Suara Dalam Pemilihan Calon Bupati dan Calon Wakil
Bupati Lumajang Masa Jabatan Tahun 2003 -2008), 28 July 2003.
Summary of DPRD General Meeting about the Public Test over the Bupati/ ViceBupati Election Result in Lumajang Regency, 31 July 2003.
DPRD’s Decision on the result of the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati Election in Lumajang
Regency, 2003 - 2008 (Berita Acara Hasil Penghitungan Suara Dalam
Pemilihan Calon Bupati dan Calon Wakil Bupati Lumajang Masa Jabatan
Tahun 2003 -2008), No. 08/ 2003, 1 August 2003.
Letter of DPRD to Ministry of Home Affairs proposing the approval for the 2003
Bupati/ Vice-Bupati election result, No. 131/ 379/ 427.2/ 2003, 1 August
2003.
Madiun Regency
DPRD’s List of Registered Candidates of the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati of Madiun 2003
– 2008.
DPRD’s Decision on the nominated candidates of Madiun’s Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
2003 – 2008 (Berita Acara DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama – nama
Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Kabupaten Madiun 2003 – 2008), No. 172/
440 A/ 402. 040/ 2003, 20 June 2003.
The Election Committee’s Declaration of the result of the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
Election in Madiun Regency, 2003 - 2008 (Berita Acara Hasil
Penghitungan Suara Dalam Pemilihan Calon Bupati dan Calon Wakil
Bupati Madiun Masa Jabatan Tahun 2003 -2008), No. 172/ 471/
402.040/ 2003, 3 July 2003.
Letter of DPRD to Ministry of Home Affairs proposing the approval for the 2003
Bupati/ Vice-Bupati election result, No. 172/ 495/ 402. 040/ 2003, 11 July
2003.
DPRD’s News Clipping from local newspapers about the Madiun Bupati/ ViceBupati Election 2003 -2008.
412
Madiun City
List of the names and personal details of DPRD members of Mojokerto City 1999
- 2004.
DPRD’s Decision on the elected candidates of Madiun Mayor 1999 – 2004
(Keputusan DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nam – nama Calon Walikota
Madiun 1999 - 2004), No. 06/ 1999, 16 March 1998.
Magetan Regency
F-KB, F-Golkar, F-Umat’s Letter to the Election Committee about the nominated
Bupati/ Vice Bupati Candidates (Surat Pengajuan F-KB, F-Golkar, FUmat untuk Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati) 2003 – 2008, No. 01/ 2003, 26
June 2003.
F-TNI/POLRI’s Letter to the Election Committee about the F-TNI/POLRI
nominated Bupati/ Vice Bupati Candidates (Surat Pengajuan FTNI/POLRI Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati) 2003 – 2008, No. 01/ 2003, 27
June 2003.
F-DIP’s Letter to the Election Committee about the F-DIP nominated Bupati/ Vice
Bupati Candidates (Surat Pengajuan F-DIP Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati)
2003 – 2008, No. 141/ 2003, 27 June 2003.
The Election Committee’s Declaration of the result of the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
Election in Magetan Regency, 2003 - 2008 (Berita Acara Hasil
Penghitungan Suara Dalam Pemilihan Calon Bupati dan Calon Wakil
Bupati Magetan Masa Jabatan Tahun 2003 -2008), No. 170/ 361/
403.040/ 2003, 14 July 2003.
Summary of DPRD General Meeting about the Public Test over the Bupati/ ViceBupati
Election Result in Magetan Regency, 14 July 2003.
Malang Regency
DPRD’s Decision No. 29/ 2002, 12 November 2002 about the structures of DPRD
leaderships, Committee memberships of Malang DPRD for period 1999
– 2004.
DPRD’s Decision No. 34/ 2002, 30 August 2001 about the amendment of the
Malang Regency
DPRD’s Decision No. 35/ 2002, 14 August 2002 about the second amendment of
the Malang Regency Government’s Budget for 2002.
DPRD’s Decision on the nominated candidates of Malang’s Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
2000 – 2005 (Berita Acara DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama–nama
Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Kabupaten Malang 2000 – 2005), No. 131/
456/ 429.040/ 2000, 30 September 2000.
413
DPRD’s Summary of the Malang Regency Government’s Budget for 1999.
DPRD’s Summary of the Malang Regency Government’s Budget for 2000.
F-KB’s Letter to the Election Committee about the F-KB nominated Bupati/ Vice
Bupati Candidates (Surat Pengajuan F-KB Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati
Malang 2000 – 2005) No. 26/ FKB/ B.1/ IX/ 2000, 7 September 2000.
F-TNI/POLRI’s Letter to the Election Committee about the F-TNI/POLRI
nominated Bupati/ Vice Bupati Candidates (Surat Pengajuan F-KB Calon
Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Malang 2000 – 2005) No. 02/ KPTS/ TNI/P IX/ 2000,
6 September 2000.
Government’s Budget for 2001.
Table of Description of Land Conflicts in Malang Regency (Inventarisasi
Permasalahan Tanah di Kabupaten Malang), as Appendix C-1 of the
2002’s End-of-Year Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of
Malang.
Table of Personal Details of Village Heads in Malang Regency, issued by the
Malang Regency Government in 2003.
The 2002’s End-of-Year Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of Malang
(Laporan Pertanggung-jawaban Bupati Malang Akhir Tahun Anggaran
2002).
The DPRD’s Declaration of the result of the 2000 Bupati/ Vice-Bupati Election in
Malang 2000 - 2005 (Berita Acara Hasil Penghitungan Suara Dalam
Pemilihan Calon Bupati dan Calon Wakil Bupati Malang Masa Jabatan
Tahun 2000 -2005). No. 131/ 485/ 429.040/ 2000, 4 October 2000.
Malang City
DPRD’s Decision on the nominated candidates of Malang Mayor 1998 – 2003
(Keputusan DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama–nama Calon Walikota
Maang 1998 - 2003), No. 10/ 1998, 19 May 1998.
DPRD’s Decision on the second nomination of candidates of Malang Mayor 1998
– 2003 (Keputusan DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama–nama Calon
Walikota Malang 1998 - 2003),13 July 1998.
Letter of the Governor of East Java, X.131.428/ 449/ 012/ 1998, 28 July 1998, to
the Minister of Home Affairs proposing the approval to the Malang Mayor
candidates to compete in the 1998 Mayor Election.
DPRD’s answers to the eleven points of criticism from NGOs of Malang about the
weakness of the 1998 Mayor Election.
414
Official Summary of the DPRD General Meeting, 28 August 1998, the election of
the 1998 – 2003 Malang Mayor.
Mojokerto Regency
A collection of complete documents of Mojokerto 2000 – 2005 Bupati/ Vice Bupati
Election, submitted by the Mojokerto Regency DPRD to the Minister of
Home Affairs for an approval of the election result, issued by the
Secretariat of Mojokerto DPRD.
Mojokerto City
List of the names and personal details of DPRD members of Mojokerto City 1999
- 2004.
DPRD’s Decision on the elected candidates of Mojokerto Mayor 1999 – 2004
(Keputusan DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama – nama Calon Walikota
Malang 1999 - 2004), No. 01/ 1999, 2 March 1998.
Nganjuk Regency
DPRD’s Decision on the nominated candidates of Nganjuk’s Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
2003 – 2008 (Berita Acara DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama – nama
Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Kabupaten Nagnjuk 2003 – 2008), No. 154/
III/ Panlih/ 2003, 4 March 2003.
The Election Committee’s Declaration of the result of the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
Election in Nganjuk, 2003 - 2008 (Berita Acara Hasil Penghitungan Suara
Dalam Pemilihan Calon Bupati dan Calon Wakil Bupati Nagnjuk Masa
Jabatan Tahun 2003 -2008), No. 17/ III/ Panlih/ 2003, 12 March 2003.
The structures of DPRD leaderships, Committees memberships of Nganjuk
DPRD for period 1999 – 2004.
Ngawi Regency
F-PP’s Letter to the Election Committee about the F-PP nominated Bupati
Candidate (Surat Pengajuan F-PP Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati) 2003 –
2008, 11 March 2000.
F-Golkar’s Letter to the Election Committee about the F-Golkar nominated Bupati
Candidate (Surat Pengajuan F-Golkar Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati) 2003
– 2008, 11 March 2000.
Decision of Minister of Home Affairs No. 131. 35 – 1259, 1 December 1999, about
the inauguration of the elected Bupati of Ngawi Regency.
The Election Committee’s Declaration of the result of the Vice-Bupati Election in
Ngawi, 1999 - 2004 (Berita Acara Hasil Penghitungan Suara Dalam
415
Pemilihan Calon Calon Wakil Bupati Pamekasan Masa Jabatan Tahun
1999 - 2004), 22 March 2000.
Schedule of the DPRD’s General Meeting for the Selection Process of the Ngawi
Bupati Candidates in the 1999 Election.
Pamekasan Regency
F-PP’s Letter to the Election Committee about the F-PP nominated Bupati/ Vice
Bupati Candidates (Surat Pengajuan F-PP Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati)
2003 – 2008, No. 71/ A-3/ FPPP/ II/ 2003, 25 February 2003.
F-KB’s Letter to the Election Committee about the F-KB nominated Bupati/ Vice
Bupati Candidates (Surat Pengajuan F-KB Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati)
2003 – 2008, No. 91/ F-KB. DPRD. PMK/ III/ 2003, 4 March 2003.
F-TNI/POLRI’s Letter to the Election Committee about the F-TNI/POLRI
nominated Bupati/ Vice Bupati Candidates (Surat Pengajuan FTNI/POLRI Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati) 2003 – 2008, No. III/ 2003, 4
February 2003.
F-DIP’s Letter to the Election Committee about the F-DIP nominated Bupati/ Vice
Bupati Candidates (Surat Pengajuan F-DIP Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati)
2003 – 2008, No. 20/ F-DIP-P/ III/ 2003, 4 March 2003.
F-Madani’s Letter to the Election Committee about the F-Madani nominated
Bupati/ Vice Bupati Candidates (Surat Pengajuan F-Madani Calon
Bupati/ Wakil Bupati) 2003 – 2008, No. 08/ FM/ III/ 2003, 4 March 2003.
The Election Committee’s Decision on the Examination Result of the
Administrative Requirements of the candidates of the Bupati/ Vice Bupati
of Pamekasan 2003 -2008 (Berita Acara Panitia Pemilihan tentang Hasil
Pemeriksaan Berkas Persyaratan Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati
Pamekasan 2003 – 2008), No. 06/ PANLIH/ 2003, 31 January 2003.
DPRD’s Decision on the nominated candidates of Pamekasan’s Bupati/ ViceBupati 2003 – 2008 (Berita Acara DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama –
nama Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Kabupaten Pamekasan 2003 – 2008),
No. 90/ 176/ 441.100/ 2003, 4 March 2003.
The Election Committee’s Declaration of the result of the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
Election in Pamekasan, 2003 - 2008 (Berita Acara Hasil Penghitungan
Suara Dalam Pemilihan Calon Bupati dan Calon Wakil Bupati
Pamekasan Masa Jabatan Tahun 2003 -2008), No. 23/ III/ PANLIH/
2003, 25 March 2003.
Summary of DPRD General Meeting on the 1998 - 2003’s End-of-Job
Accountability Report of the Bupati of Pamekasan and Final Opinions of
the DPRD Fractions (Risalah Rapat Paripurna DPRD pada Laporan
416
Pertanggung-jawaban Bupati Pamekasan Akhir Masa Jabatan 1998 –
2003 dan Pendapat Akhir Fraksi - Fraksi), 17 February to 05 March 2003.
Pasuruan Regency
A collection of complete documents of Pasuruan 2003 – 2008 Bupati/ Vice Bupati
Election, submitted by the Pasuruan Regency DPRD to the Minister of
Home Affairs for an approval of the election result, issued by the
Secretariat of Pasuruan DPRD.
Ponorogo Regency
The Final Opinion of F-DIP of DPRD of Ponorogo Regency on the 2002’s End-ofYear Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of Ponorogo (Pendapat
Akhir F-DIP DPRD Ponorogo terhadap Laporan Pertanggung-jawaban
Bupati Ponorogo Akhir Tahun Anggaran 2002).
The Final Opinion of F-KB of DPRD of Ponorogo Regency on the 2002’s End-ofYear Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of Ponorogo (Pendapat
Akhir F-DIP DPRD Ponorogo terhadap Laporan Pertanggung-jawaban
Bupati Ponorogo Akhir Tahun Anggaran 2002).
The Final Opinion of F-Golkar of DPRD of Ponorogo Regency on the 2002’s Endof-Year Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of Ponorogo
(Pendapat Akhir F-DIP DPRD Ponorogo terhadap Laporan
Pertanggung-jawaban Bupati Ponorogo Akhir Tahun Anggaran 2002).
The Final Opinion of F-Reformasi of DPRD of Ponorogo Regency on the 2002’s
End-of-Year Program Accountability Report of the Bupati of Ponorogo
(Pendapat Akhir F-Reformasi DPRD Ponorogo terhadap Laporan
Pertanggung-jawaban Bupati Ponorogo Akhir Tahun Anggaran 2002).
Official Statements/ Agreements (from eight candidates) to propose as /
Pernyataan Bersedia menjadi calon Bupati/ Vice-Bupati Candidates of
Ponorogo, 2000-2005.
The DPRD’s Declaration of the result of the 2000 Bupati/ Vice-Bupati Election in
Ponorogo 2000 - 2005 (Berita Acara Hasil Penghitungan Suara Dalam
Pemilihan Calon Bupati dan Calon Wakil Bupati Ponorogo Masa Jabatan
Tahun 2000 -2005).
Probolinggo Regency
The Election Committee’s Decision on the result of the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
Election in Probolinggo Regency, 2003 - 2008 (Berita Acara Hasil
Penghitungan Suara Dalam Pemilihan Calon Bupati dan Calon Wakil
Bupati Probolinggo Masa Jabatan Tahun 2031 -2008), No. 18 January
2003.
417
The structures of DPRD leaderships, Committees memberships of Problinggo
DPRD for period 1999 – 2004.
Sampang Regency
DPRD’s Decision on the formation of the Election Committee in the Sampang
Bupati/ Vice-Bupati 2000 – 2005 Election (Keputusan DPRD tentang
Pembentukan Panitia Pemilihan Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Kabupaten
Sampng 2000 – 2005), No. 01/ 2000, 24 April 2000.
DPRD’s Decision on the Regulation in Sampang Bupati/ Vice-Bupati 2000 – 2005
Election (Keputusan DPRD tentang Peraturan Tata-tertib Pemilihan
Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Kabupaten Sampang 2000 – 2005), No. 01/ 2000, 6
May 2000.
Election Committee’s Letter No. 05/ PAN-PILBUP/ VI/ 2000, 2 June 2000, to the
fractions of Sampang DPRD, informing about the schedule of the
Sampang 2000 Election.
Election Committee’s Letter No. 082/ 04/ 442. 040/ 2000, 2 June 2000, to the
fractions of Sampang DPRD, informing about the list of supporting letters
for the Bupati candidates received from 1 January to 31 May 2000.
Election Committee’s Letter No. 12/ PAN-PILBUP/ VI/ 2000, 21 June 2000, to the
fractions of Sampang DPRD, informing about missing documents to be
completed by F-PP’s Bupati/ Vice-Bupati candidates in the Sampang
2000 Election.
Election Committee’s Letter No. 17/ PAN-PILBUP/ VII/ 2000, 10 July 2000, to the
fractions of Sampang DPRD, informing about the result of files
examinations of the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati candidates in the Sampang 2000
Election.
F-PP’s Letter, No. 06/ FPP. DPRD/ VII/ 2000, 14 July 2000, to the Election
Committee about the F-PP nominated Bupati/ Vice Bupati Candidates
(Surat Pengajuan F-PP Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati).
F-TNI/POLRI’s Letter, No. 02/ VII/ 2000, 13 July 2000, to the Election Committee
about the F-TNI/POLRI nominated Bupati/ Vice Bupati Candidates (Surat
Pengajuan F-TNI/POLRI Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati).
F-Gabungan’s Letter, No. 02/ FGab/ VII/ 2000, 13 July 2000, to the Election
Committee about the F-Gabungan nominated Bupati/ Vice Bupati
Candidates (Surat Pengajuan F-Gab Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati).
F-KB’s Letter, No. 12/ FKB/ PKB/ VII/ 2000, 13 July 2000, to the Election
Committee about the change of the F-KB nominated Bupati/ Vice Bupati
Candidates (Surat Pengajuan F-KB Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati).
418
Election Committee’s Letter, No. 19/ PAN. PILBUP/ VII/ 2000, 14 July 2000, to the
Speaker of DPRD, submitting the nominated Bupati/ Vice Bupati
Candidates (Surat Pengajuan Nama-nama Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati).
DPRD’s Decision on the elected candidates of Sampang Bupati/ Vice Bupati 2000
– 2005 (Keputusan DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama – nama Calon
terpilih Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Sampang 2000 - 2005), No. 06/ 1999, 22
July 2000.
DPRD’s Letter, No. 131/ 187/ 442. 040/ 2000, 22 July 2000, to the Minister of
Home Affairs, proposing the approval of the 2000 Sampang Bupati/ Vice
Bupati Election Result.
F-KB’s Letter, No. 15/ FKB/ PKB/ VII/ 2000, 24 July 2000, to the Speaker of
DPRD of Sampang, requesting re-evaluation and clarification of the
elected Bupati before the inauguration, mentioning that the election is
legally faulty.
F-KB’s Letter, No. 16/ FKB/ PKB/ VII/ 2000, 26 July 2000, to the Speaker of
DPRD of Sampang, refusing the 2000 Sampang Bupati election result.
Decision of Governor of East Java, No. 171.442/ 88/ 012/ 2000, 26 May 2000,
about the replacement of KH. Abd Kholiq Imam with Abd. Syukur Sayuti
as a DPRD member of Sampang.
Letter of Agreement between the KH. Abd. Kholiq and Abd Syukur to delay the
replacement of the first by the second as DPRD member of Sampang
until August 2000.
Decision of Minister of Home Affair, No. 131. 35- 418, 4 December 2000,
approving the 2000 Sampang Bupati/ Vice-Bupati Election Result.
Letter of the Governor of East Java No. 131. 442/ 0362/ 012/ 2001, 4 October
2001, to the Speaker of DPRD of Sampang, informing the inauguration of
the elected Bupati on 6 October 2001.
Sidoardjo Regency
A collection of complete documents of Sidoardjo 2000 – 2005 Bupati/ Vice Bupati
Election, submitted by the Sidoardjo Regency DPRD to the Minister of
Home Affairs for an approval of the election result, issued by the
Secretariat of Sidoardjo DPRD.
Situbondo Regency
A collection of complete documents of Situbondo 2000 – 2005 Bupati/ Vice Bupati
Election, submitted by the Situbondo DPRD to the Minister of Home
Affairs for an approval of the election result, issued by the Secretariat of
Situbondo DPRD.
419
Sumenep Regency
Stages of Election Process and Approval of Bupati/ Vice-Bupati of Sumenep
Regency 2000 – 2005 (Tahapan Pemrosesan dan Pengesahan Bupati/
Wakil Bupati Sumenep 2000 – 2005).
The Election Committee of Bupati/ Vice-Bupati Sumenep Regency 2000 – 2005
(Panitia Pemilihan Calon Kepala Daerah dan Wakil Kepala Daerah
Kabupaten Sumenep Masa Jabatan 2000 – 2005).
Form and Model of Voting Card in the Sumenep’s Bupati/ Vice-Bupati Election
2000 – 2005 (Bentuk dan Model Surat Suara Dalam Pemilihan Bupati/
Wakil Bupati Kabupaten Sumenep 2000 – 2005).
Police’s Security Screening and Statement about wealth assets of the candidates
(Surat Keterangan Berkelakuan Baik dari Polisi dan Daftar Kekayaan
Pribadi), of the 2000 – 2005 Sumenep’s elected Bupati/ Vice Bupati
candidates, as parts of the election administrative requirements.
The Election Committee’s Decision on the Examination Result of the
Administrative Requirements of the candidates of the Bupati/ Vice Bupati
of Sumenep 2000 -2005 (Berita Acara Panitia Pemilihan tentang Hasil
Pemeriksaan Berkas Persyaratan Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Sumenep
2000 – 2005).
The DPRD’s Declaration of the result of the 2000 Bupati/ Vice-Bupati Election in
Sumenep 2000 - 2005 (Berita Acara Hasil Penghitungan Suara Dalam
Pemilihan Calon Bupati dan Calon Wakil Bupati Sumenep Masa Jabatan
Tahun 2000 -2005). No. 131/ 131/ 444.040/ 2000.
Surabaya City
A collection of complete documents in a chronological order regarding the
impeachment of Surabaya Mayor, Drs. Bambang Dwi Hartomo, M.Pd. by
the DPRD in 2002, issued by the Secretariat of Surabaya DPRD.
A collection of complete documents of Surabaya 2000 – 2005 Mayor/ Vice Mayor
Election,
submitted by the Surabaya City DPRD to the Minister of Home Affairs for
an approval of the election result, issued by the Secretariat of Surabaya
DPRD.
DPRD’s Decision on the nominated candidates of Surabaya Mayor/ Vice-Mayor
1999 – 2004 (Keputusan DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama– nama
Calon Walikotai/ Wakil Walikota Surabaya 1999 - 2004), No. 131/ 305/
402. 04/ 1999, 3 May 1999.
DPRD’s Decision No. 45/ 1999, 19 August 1999, on the composition of
leaderships and memberships the DPRD and its committees.
420
Tuban Regency
DPRD’s Decision on the nominated candidates of Tuban’s Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
2001 – 2006 (Berita Acara DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama – nama
Calon Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Kabupaten Tuban 2001 – 2006), 24 April
2001.
The Election Committee’s Declaration of the result of the Bupati/ Vice-Bupati
Election in Tuban, 2001 - 2006 (Berita Acara Hasil Penghitungan Suara
Dalam Pemilihan Calon Bupati dan Calon Wakil Bupati Tuban Masa
Jabatan Tahun 2001 -2006). 30 March 2001.
Administrative Requirements (Berkas – berkas persyaratan administrasi)
submitted at the registration stages by the elected Tuban’s Bupati/ ViceBupati.
Tulungagung Regency
A collection of complete documents of Tulungagung 2003 – 2008 Bupati/ Vice
Bupati Election, submitted by the Tulungagung City DPRD to the Minister
of Home Affairs for an approval of the election result, issued by the
Secretariat of Surabaya DPRD.
Trengalek Regency
Election Commite’s Decision on the elected candidates of Trenggalek Bupati/ Vice
Bupati 2000 – 2005 (Keputusan DPRD tentang Penetatapan Nama –
nama Calon terpilih Bupati/ Wakil Bupati Trenggalek) 2000 - 2005), 2
September 2000.
5.3. Issued by other civilian institutions
The List of DPRD members of City Districts’ DPRDs of Indonesia (Daftar Nama
Anggota DPRD Kota Seluruh Indonesia), issued by the Association of
City DPRD of Indonesia (ADEKSI), 2002.
The Li