Strategic Paradigms by Ehsan Ahrari

Indonesia has always been a place “way out there in Southeast Asia” for me.  My world travels took me all over the Middle East, North Africa, South Asia, and Europe, but East Asia remained a place that did not capture my professional interest until 2005, when I visited Singapore.  During that trip, I remember the distinct feeling of ambivalence among a lot of Singaporeans on all issues related to Indonesia.  That further aroused my curiosity.  Since then, Indonesia was the most interesting place for me in East Asia.  Strangely enough, however, my first visit to that country didn’t happen until October 2008.

 

As a young man, I vaguely remember Ahmad Sukarno, Indonesia’s first President, along with Jawaharlal Nehru of India, Josip Tito of Yugoslavia, Gamal Abdel Nasser of Egypt, and Chou En-lai of the People’s Republic of China (PRC), as leaders of the non-aligned movement (NAM), championing the independence and solidarity of Afro-Asian countries.  In Third-World countries, the NAM was a big deal.  Countries forming the NAM characterized themselves as a “moral force,” refusing to align themselves either with the United States or with the Soviet Union. 

 

When Sukarno was ousted in 1965 and General Mohammad Suharto came to power, Indonesia became an inward looking country.  Suharto did not have the charisma of Sukarno.  He was a military man who had to get a lot of on-the-job training to rule a country of the complexity of Indonesia.  Besides, Suharto was accused of coming to power through the covert actions of the then declining hegemon, the U.K., and one of the superpowers, the United States.  In that capacity, he was seen as the “stooge” of the West.  Indonesia was thus denied the major role it might have played if its political order were not shaped by those countries to fulfill the Anglo-American requirements of winning the Cold War. 

 

In the early-to-mid 1990s, Indonesia emerged as one of the countries showing promise of economic progress.  Then it became one of the victims of the economic crisis of 1997-1998.  The promise of progress of Suharto’s “new era” turned into a pipedream.  But the Indonesians still came out on top by using that economic calamity to return to democracy, which was introduced in that country through an admirable demonstration of popular will.  Suharto was ousted and democracy marched in with promises of worldwide support so crucial for Indonesia’s future.

 

The Indonesians that I met during my visit belong to two groups.  The first one depicts Suharto as a dictator and a person responsible for holding back the introduction of democracy.  But they also regard him as a president who allowed a controlled political interaction and tug-and-pull among various parties and pressure groups in his country.  He was not a maverick, but his regime, wittingly or unwittingly, laid the ground for a time when Indonesia would become a democracy.  The second group—arguably a minority—regards Suharto as a great leader, whose aspirations for the role of Indonesia was interrupted as a result of the economic crisis of 1997, which also brought the regime change in that country.

 

In my estimation, Indonesia is a natural place for the continuation of democracy.  It is a laid-back culture.  People, as a matter of general practice, are polite toward each other.  They almost invariably smile when they speak to each other, even to strangers.  The plural nature of its polity makes it essential that democracy should thrive there.  There are, to be sure, angry groups and voices of extremes in Indonesia.  However, their very presence underscores the fact that it is a very complex country, and a place where a variety of human contradictions coexist.  It is also a country that defies simplistic categorizations, explanations, and descriptions.

 

I went to Indonesia for political and cultural education. I wanted to develop a reasonable sense of what the country is all about.  I wanted to meet its political, military, and academic leaders to ask them probing questions on a variety of issues of “high politics” of that country.

 

Indonesia is one of the largest countries in East Asia.  Yet I heard virtually nothing about the potentials or promise of its emergence as the next rising power of Asia from its citizens.  Sitting in Honolulu, Hawaii, I regularly scan the political horizons of East Asia via the Internet, and capture the essence of almost all major events affecting most countries.  However, most of the press coverage on Indonesia I found dealt with topics related to the Jemah Islamiyya (JI).  I did not find adequate coverage of other substantive issues.

 

But Indonesia is much too large and enormously complex to have been reduced by the international media as a place where a terrorist organization still exists.  I wanted to know why the world is not hearing from Indonesia about its aspirations to become the third rising power of Asia.  It has the physical size, it has a very large population, and it has an important strategic location stemming from its proximity to the Strait of Malacca.  Both the United States and the People’s Republic of China (PRC) have long recognized that country’s significance.  Yet, I did not encounter any discussion inside that country on that topic.

 

During the days of the Suharto dictatorship, the Indonesian economy was doing quite well, before it was hammered by the economic crisis of 1997.  The economic turbulence made the Indonesians angry enough to throw the dictator out and bring democracy to their country.  It is possible that the evolution of democratic leadership will take some time before a visionary leader emerges in that country. 

 

Indonesia, in my estimation, needs a Deng Xiaoping, who would not only give that country a blueprint for modernization, but would motivate its citizens to strive for it.  I recognize that the spectacular success of the Deng Xiaoping template is largely the result of the fact that the PRC is a communist system, where mobilization of the economy is done from the top down and through autocratic means.  I am also aware that the very democratic characteristic of Indonesia forces that country to look for a different path. 

 

In my quest for explanations regarding Indonesia, I was looking for a leader who would challenge the Indonesians to aspire for modernization, for fast-paced economic development, and for regional leadership.  I was looking for a leader in that country who would inspire the Indonesians to think big as Deng did, or as Nehru did, when he talked about India’s “tryst with destiny.”  Leaders inspire a nation.  In a democracy, the legislature plays a crucial role in transforming that inspiration and that vision into specific public policies and programs.

 

I found no major debates inside that country about Indonesia’s big dream or mega-aspirations.  Indonesians are not cynical about thinking big.  In these uncertain times, perhaps they are too focused on daily survival at the expense of everything else.  Perhaps they think that the time for dreaming big dreams has not yet arrived.  But leaders are responsible for dreaming big visions and sharing them with their people.  In autocratic societies, those dreams are shared through a process of propaganda and regimented mobilization.  No one believes that a developmental model that pushes Indonesia toward mobilization from the top is feasible.  In democracies, leaders attempt to persuade their constituents to believe in their vision. 

 

President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, depicted as a cautious man, might be doing just that.  Perhaps he is too cautious to indulge in thinking big ideas.  I do not know much about the type of people that are assembled around him to plan the future modalities of Indonesia’s growth.  Since there are no voluble conversations about Indonesia’s “tryst with destiny,” it is reasonable to deduce that the President’s advisors are like him.  As technocrats, they are overly cautious and are driven by a steely sense of realism about what is feasible and achievable for their country in the near future.

 

While I noticed this lack of proactivism, or zeal, at the top leadership level, I was very impressed with the evolution of civil society in Indonesia, which is a vital requirement for the sustenance and permanence of democracy. 

 

The young Indonesians are highly curious and interested in what is transpiring in their region and the world.  I gave a lecture at a Christian university.  The topic of discussion was how China’s military modernization will affect Asia, especially Southeast Asia.  The average age of my audience was between 18-20 years. 

They were very curious about China, especially its ties with their country. 

 

I was equally impressed when I spoke at a gathering of the mass organization, the Himpunan Mahasiswa Islam (HMI) or Islamic Students Association.  This is described as a moderate Islamic party and an entity that is a strong advocate of modernizing Indonesia.  Once again, the average age of the attendees was between 18-20 years.  They were quite inquisitive about how Indonesia is seen by the United States and by the world of Islam at large.  They wanted to know why Americans refer to Islam as a religion that “endorses” terrorism.  They were very interested about the prospects of visiting the U.S. for higher education.  I was told that the HMI was one of the most vibrant Islamic entities of Indonesia.  It had produced several luminaries, including Dr. Fuad Bawazier, an American-educated economist who was Finance Minister in Suharto’s cabinet.  It should be noted, however, that his detractors call him “a crony of the Suharto family.”

 

My advice to the young members of the HMI was that they should continue to pursue religious moderation and work hard to push their country to become a highly productive member of the globalized world.  At one point, I cannot remember exactly why, but I asked them how many of those youngsters regard Jemah Islamiyya as a terrorist group.  I wanted a show of hands. 

 

To my surprise (and I might add, to my dismay), no one raised a hand.  The environment in the room became palpably awkward.  One young man raised his hand to ask me how I define terrorism.  As much as I did not want to fall into the definitional trap, I defined terrorism as an act that is aimed at perpetrating violence in order to publicize a cause without any regard to the consequences.  The same young man smiled nervously and told me that there was no evidence of the JI’s perpetration of violence in his country.  When I heard that type of response, I knew I had reached an impasse and needed to move on to another topic.

 

Other than few awkward moments, my interaction with those youngsters was highly positive.  Since I do not know what type of pressure they are under on the issue of the JI, and since I have no way of judging the exact reason why no one wanted to be seen by others as a person agreeing to the proposition that JI is a terrorist organization, I am neither going to become pessimistic about my audience, nor am I willing to pass any harsh judgment.  Besides, it is very easy for a visitor to ask even awkward questions and leave.  But the honest respondent has to live in the society and face the consequences of being honest.

 

Islam not only is an important religion in Indonesia, but it also makes the observant very proud of their faith.  They remain both on the defensive and annoyed about the fact that their religion is under attack.  They have too many stories of bigotry and chauvinism to narrate with visitors to prove their point.  During my meeting with fifteen professors from three universities in Bandung, one young academician told me how racist Australians had been toward him during his two-year stay in that country.  One immigration officer at an Australian airport kept calling him Mohammad, which was his middle name.  He also asked him whether he was a terrorist.  I have never been to Australia.  Thus, I have no unhappy anecdotes to share along those lines.  However, hearing similar stories with a number of Muslim acquaintances that have lived in Australia, I know some Australians have a problem on this issue.

 

Indonesia is undergoing a revolution in the realm of modern education.  A number of its universities are given high marks by outside assessors for ceaselessly incorporating qualitative changes in their standards of excellence.  In a meeting with the Rector of the University of Indonesia, I had the pleasant experience of getting acquainted with his ambitious plans in the realm of escalating the pace of research in the hard sciences, as well as in the social sciences,, in the coming years.

 

The Indonesian press is vibrant and free.  Reading English newspapers in Indonesia, I had to remind myself that I was visiting a Muslim country (since in most Muslim countries absence of freedom of the press is a sine qua non of daily life).  There was front-page coverage of prostitutes in Jakarta demanding rights to practice their trade, and protection from harassment or abuse.  I am sure, followers of various religions had definite views on the subject.  However, the fact that the topic was given front-page coverage spoke volumes about the freedom of the press in that country.

 

Indonesia is an unassuming giant that is in the process of transforming itself.  Unlike China and India, that transformation is not coming along with a bang.  However, it is, indeed, in the making.  If its economy is not jolted in the coming years by any unanticipated calamity (as it was during the economic crisis of 1997-1998), it promises to become the third rising power of Asia within the next two decades.  It does need an Indonesian version of Deng Xiaoping to offer it a list of modernizations.  It does need a Nehru-like leader to give it a clarion call of a “tryst with destiny.”

 

President Yudhoyono is performing a very important task of solidifying the democratic framework and nourishing democratic egalitarianism.  In the process, he is likely to slip and falter.  But that is how democracies evolve: through a process of trial and error.  Throughout that process, the commitment to democracy should not be allowed to break or to be interrupted.  In that fashion, Indonesia is likely to reach the promise of greatness that it and its people deserve.

 

When my trip came to an end, I had more questions than I had answers.  My next trip to Indonesia should be more interesting, in the sense that I can assess how correct I was in arriving at a number of conclusions during this one.  When I left that country, I wished I had had more time to see those whom I could not, and visit more places.  But such a feeling also becomes a good reason to revisit Indonesia, for which I have a special place in my heart.  As my plane was speeding down the runway, I gave one last good look to its fertile ground.  Until next time, au revoir, Indonesia!