HTML pages
designed &
maintained by
Alifuru67
Copyright ©
1999/2000 -
1364283024
& 1367286044
|
|
|||||
|
|
||||
INDONESIAN POLITICAL DEVELOPMENTS AND THEIR
IMPLICATIONS FOR THE UNITED STATES,
WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO THE MALUKU CRISIS
R. William Liddle, The Ohio State University
Prepared for the United States Commission on International Religious Freedom,
Hearing on the Maluku Islands, Washington D.C., February 13, 2001
These remarks address three issues: (1) the major domestic challenges now facing Indonesian political leaders and U. S. policy makers concerning Indonesia; (2) the effectiveness of the present Abdurrahman Wahid government and the prospects for a future Megawati Sukarnoputri government in meeting these challenges; and (3) the broad implications for future U.S. policy, toward Indonesia in general and Maluku in particular.
(1) Preserving national unity, consolidating the recent transition to democracy, and restoring economic growth with equitable distribution of the benefits of growth are the major domestic challenges now facing Indonesian political leaders. A unified, democratic, and prosperous Indonesia is in the interest of most Indonesians and also of the United States for the following reasons.
Unity. If Indonesia disintegrates or loses de facto control of its provinces, a substantial number of these territories will be internally unstable and may war against each other and against neighboring countries. Under President Suharto, Indonesia, the world's fourth largest country, played a positive role as a leading moderate force in ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Nations), OIC (Organization of Islamic Conference), and other regional and global organizations. A weakened or dismembered Indonesia will be at best a non-player beyond its borders, at worst a major source of regional conflict.
Independence movements are strong and growing in the western- and eastern-most provinces of Aceh and Irian Jaya. The loss of these two provinces, especially Aceh, could be regionally destabilizing in its own right and would trigger a new round of demands for independence in other parts of the country. Indeed, it would call into question the basic idea, formed during the anti-colonial struggle before and after World War II, of Indonesia as a modern nation-state.
There are no widely-accepted alternatives to the idea of the Indonesian nation. Javanese, the largest ethnic group at nearly half the total population of just over 200 million, do not think of themselves as a nation in the modern sense, but rather as a linguistic/cultural group within the Indonesian nation-state. Nor do members of many other large groups-the Bataks of North Sumatra, the Minangkabau of West Sumatra, the Sundanese of West Java, and the Balinese-or of the hundreds of medium to small groups who live in the world's largest archipelago. The consequences of the loss of the basic national idea that has shaped political life for nearly a century, while unpredictable in their specifics, would therefore be devastating both for Indonesia and for its neighbors.
Democracy. Indonesia's newly reawakened democracy, after more than four decades in hibernation, has yet to find its footing. A national legislature (DPR, Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat, People's Representative Council) and a president were elected in June and October 1999 respectively, but the president has just been formally censured for corruption by an overwhelming majority of legislators. He may be impeached and deposed within a few months. These events do not yet threaten the fledgling democracy, since it is widely accepted that the vice-president will succeed to the presidency, but they are an indication of its instability and the magnitude of the problems it faces.
If the new democratic leaders should flounder, the army is waiting in the wings. A return to military rule will spell disaster for Indonesian society and for U. S. relations with Indonesia. A sharp increase in violations of human rights will be accompanied and followed by political instability and economic stagnation. National disintegration also will become more likely, as large numbers of inhabitants of the provinces outside Java, not least but not only in Aceh and Irian Jaya, are no longer willing to accept the repression imposed on them for so long by Suharto's New Order.
The fragility of democracy is apparent everywhere. In the regions, democratic institutions are threatened by the government's inability to respond effectively not only to separatist challenges from Aceh and Irian Jaya but to power-sharing demands from many provinces and to localized civil conflicts in places like Maluku, where over 5,000 lives have been lost in the last two years, as well.
In the center, political parties divided mainly by religious affiliation coexist uneasily. Before the 1999 session of the MPR (Majelis Permusyawaratan Rakyat, People's Consultative Assembly), a kind of super-legislature constitutionally charged with electing the president and vice-president, pious Muslims feared that a government led by the secular Muslim Megawati Sukarnoputri, head of PDI-P (Partai Demokrasi Indonesia-Perjuangan, Indonesian Democracy Party-Struggle), would discriminate against them. PDI-P is the largest party in the Assembly. Secular Muslims, Christians, and other non-Muslims feared in turn that a government led by a pious modernist Muslim such as Amien Rais, head of PAN (Partai Amanat Nasional, National Message Party) would declare Indonesia an Islamic state. PAN is a non-religious party but has the support of many members of Muhammadiyah, the leading modernist Muslim social and educational organization.
The traditionalist Muslim Abdurrahman Wahid (called Gus Dur), whose PKB (Partai Kebangkitan Bangsa, National Awakening Party) holds only 10% of the seats in the Assembly, was the compromise choice. Gus Dur's presidency has thus been fragile, dependent on continuing support either from the modernists and the religious right, which brought him to power, or the secular Muslims and non-Muslims, to whom he turned immediately after his own election by choosing Megawati as his vice-president. In the censure vote of February 1, 2001, all of these groups united against him, making him virtually a lame duck president. Most observers expect that he will soon step down and be replaced by Megawati.
So far, army leaders have not threatened to derail the transition to democracy. In 1998 they accepted then Vice-President B. J. Habibie, a civilian, as President Suharto's successor. They did not interfere in the 1999 legislative election and, though still represented in the Assembly, played only a passive role in the elections of the speakers of the legislature and the Assembly and the president and the vice-president. Army leaders are sworn to obey the constitution and to accept the authority of the president as supreme commander. Moreover, they have formally rescinded their "twin functions" doctrine, under which they claimed an autonomous political role for more than three decades.
Old habits die hard, however, both for the officers and for the civilian politicians who have long served as their allies and clients. The published writings and individual actions of some officers indicate that they have not yet fully accepted the idea of civilian supremacy. The notorious " territorial system, " an armed forces hierarchy of surveillance that extends from the capital to the village, remains in place. Army and police actions in the regions, especially Aceh, frequently contravene the stated policies of the government.
In August 2000 Assembly members from all the major political parties voted to maintain an appointed armed forces/police delegation in the Assembly "until at the latest 2009." This unfortunate vote revealed continuing willingness by party leaders to look to the armed forces for political support and a corresponding lack of determination to establish unequivocably the principle of civilian supremacy. It set a dangerous precedent for the future.
The economy. The East and Southeast Asian experience of the last half-century provides some evidence that an extended period of economic development can lay the foundation for democratization and perhaps for national unity as well. In other words, all good things, in terms of the interests and values of most Indonesians and of U. S. policy toward Indonesia, can go together. Of course they need not necessarily do so. That is, my analysis is possibilist, not determinist. Much depends upon human action.
Unfortunately, Indonesia's development-led democracy is more fragile than its counterparts in South Korea, Taiwan, or Thailand, the major regional success stories. The differences are Indonesia's lower initial economic level, lower rate of growth, shorter time period for growth to produce its beneficial effects, weaker governmental and political institutionalization, and more intractable social and cultural cleavages. It is therefore crucial for the new democratic government to adopt economic policies that will quickly restore the pattern of growth combined with broad distribution of the benefits of growth while avoiding the massive corruption of the Suharto era.
The causal mechanism making possible development-led democratization in South Korea, Taiwan, and Thailand was probably the creation and dispersion over a long period of time of substantial economic and other resources that could be accumulated, mobilized, and deployed by democrats to challenge and replace authoritarian rulers. The Thai experience also shows that carefully targeted distribution of the benefits of growth can promote loyalty to the center in restive regions.
The Indonesian economy grew at an average rate of nearly 7% per year from the late 1960s, when new market-oriented policies adopted by the authoritarian Suharto started to take hold, to mid-1997, the beginning of the East Asian economic crisis, from which the country (unlike South Korea and Thailand) has yet to recover. This rate was lower than South Korea, Taiwan, and Thailand for the same period, but still quite respectable for the developing world as a whole. Most Indonesians benefited from these policies, directly through the widespread provision of economic opportunity made possible by sound macro-economic policies and indirectly through improved schools, health services, roads, markets, and other infrastructure.
Under Suharto's leadership, a quarter century of growth brought a massive reduction in poverty, from over 60% of the population in the late 1960s to under 15% by the mid-1990s. Unfortunately, it also brought massive and expanding corruption in government at all levels but most noticeably at the top. Suharto used some of this money to buy political support, for example through the state party Golkar which he controlled. But his practice of enriching his family and friends increasingly undermined the legitimacy of his presidency and of the New Order, leaving him by the mid-1990s with little personal or regime authority.
As in South Korea, Taiwan, and Thailand, a vital civil society emerged and grew rapidly in New Order Indonesia. Thousands of non-governmental organizations (NGOs) responsive to the needs of new social groups and clienteles were formed. Most of these organizations were explicitly non-political or non-partisan. Nonetheless, they constituted, together with the growing body of politicized university students, an increasingly dense network of social activists spread throughout the country. Unfortunately, their memberships often mirrored the predominant Indonesia-wide divisions among traditionalist Muslims, modernist Muslims, secular Muslims, Christians and other non-Muslims, sowing the seeds of later internecine conflict.
For decades, Suharto repressed and coopted this burgeoning civil society, but in the end large parts of it successfully moved against him. Subsequently, some NGOs have heavily pressured both Presidents Habibie and Gus Dur to change their policies and even to leave office. Both presidents have also tried to use NGOs as political weapons against their enemies. The three most important leaders of democratic Indonesia -- the Muslim traditionalist Gus Dur, the Muslim secularist Megawati, and the Muslim modernist Amien Rais -- are in large part products of the new civil society. As such, they reflect its strengths in their commitment to democracy and its weaknesses in their roots in divisive religious politics.
(2) How effective has the Gus Dur government been in meeting the three challenges of preserving national unity, consolidating democracy, and restoring development? If he is replaced by Megawati, how well is she likely to do?
Gus Dur: The Spirit is (Mostly) Willing but the Flesh is Weak. At the most abstract level, Gus Dur appears in general to be committed to the right policies. In practice, however, most observers believe that he has failed to implement these policies. This is in part the meaning of his overwhelming censure by the legislature on February 1. There is also some reasonable doubt as to the depth or steadfastness of his basic commitments.
National Unity. With regard to the regions, Gus Dur has recognized the need for a new balance in which substantial governmental authority and control of revenue are decentralized. He understands that Aceh and Irian Jaya are special provinces that must be given the broadest autonomy consistent with remaining a part of the Indonesian nation. He deplores the killings in Maluku and elsewhere and is outraged by the actions of the Laskar Jihad. Moreover, he has been committed to the peaceful resolution of differences through negotiation, both between the center and separatist movements like GAM (Gerakan Aceh Merdeka, Free Aceh Movement) and OPM (Organisasi Papua Merdeka, Free Papua Organization), and among warring regional groups like the Christians and Muslims in Maluku.
In practice, however, these commitments have been implemented poorly or not at all. Gus Dur's decentralization law was formulated by Suharto's bureaucrats, then adopted by Habibie who hoped to win regional votes. Its primary emphasis is on districts and municipalities, which are mostly incapable of governing themselves, not the provinces where the demands for autonomy are strongest and where there is greater administrative capacity. What is worse, Gus Dur ousted his own most competent decentralization officials, virtually assuring that implementation would fail.
In Aceh and Irian Jaya, after tendering some promising olive branches Gus Dur drifted irresolutely for months. He now appears on the verge of a return to Suharto-style repression, which is almost certain to intensify the level of anti-Jakarta, anti-Indonesia hostility in the two regions. In Maluku, he failed first to stop the hostilities and then to prevent the depradations of Laskar Jihad or to control the local police force which backs the Christians and the army which supports the Muslims.
Democracy. During the New Order, Gus Dur was for nearly two decades a bright beacon of democratic hope. As a prominent Jakarta intellectual and social activist, then simultaneously head of the traditionalist Muslim organization Nahdlatul Ulama (Awakening of the Muslim Scholars) and the broadly-based Forum Demokrasi (Democracy Forum), he often took organizational and personal risks on behalf of the struggle for democracy. In his writings and actions he promoted religious pluralism, freedom of the press and association, and other fundamental democratic rights.
As president, Gus Dur has not retracted any of his formal commitments. His behavior, however, has tended to undermine or destabilize fledgling democratic institutions and practices. Part of the problem is his impulsiveness and inconsistency, an old habit that as president he seems unable to bring under control. More fundamentally, however, he is supremely self-confident of his knowledge and the superiority of his leadership skills. In addition, he believes deeply that his PKB can become the second largest party in the 2004 legislative election, enabling him to govern in coalition with just one other party, Megawati's PDI-P.
These characteristics and beliefs have led him to act almost as a presidential dictator, making major and minor policy and personnel decisions without consultation outside his own party. They may also have led him to engage in Suharto-era fund-raising practices, including raids on state enterprises (e.g., the so-called Buloggate affair) and the exchange of contributions for favors with big businesses dependent on the state. In August, 2000, his party voted in favor of a continuing armed forces presence in the Assembly, perhaps a sign that he believes his planned 2004-2009 coalition may need one more member.
In a short fifteen months, from October 1999 to February 2001, Gus Dur's support within the legislature and the Assembly, on which he is ultimately dependent for his continuation in office under the Constitution of 1945, has eroded steadily to the point where he now has the votes only of his own minority party. What is worse, as the leadership crisis has deepened this year he has apparently panicked, threatening to dismiss the legislature and call a special legislative election, an unconstitutional act reminiscent of President Sukarno's overthrow of Indonesia's first democratic regime in 1959. He is also reported to have unsuccessfully solicited the support of the military for this purpose, and has seemed at times to encourage Nahdlatul Ulama's East Java-based paramilitary guards to descend on Jakarta in his defense.
The Economy. Economics has never been Gus Dur's strong suit. He has no training and little interest in the subject, and reportedly falls asleep during cabinet meetings when economic policy is discussed. His statements on the economy often appear to reflect the populist, anti-market, nationalist and anti-foreign prejudices of the majority of members of the Jakarta intellectual, political, and NGO elite to which he belongs. He seems to see no causal chain linking market-oriented growth, egalitarian distribution, democratization, and national unity.
President Suharto was also a product of this populist and nationalist culture, but chose in the mid-1960s to take the advice of his market-oriented economic advisors, perhaps because he intuitively grasped that the collective and individual benefits of economic growth could become a pillar of the regime he was constructing. The result was the pattern of growth and distribution described above, which in turn laid the foundation for the democratization movement of the late 1990s.
In 2000, Gus Dur's first full year in office, the Indonesian economy registered nearly 5% growth (after no growth in 1999 and minus 14% growth in 1998), with exports at US$ 63 billion exceeding the pre-crisis record and imports also steadily improving, although not yet up to pre-crisis levels. Gus Dur claimed credit for these gains, as perhaps any president would. Most economists, however, believe that growth will not continue without reform of the still non-functioning banking system and substantial new investment.
New capital must probably come from some combination of foreign investors and large domestic entrepreneurs (the so-called conglomerates) whose assets have been frozen since 1998. The urgency of the need for new investment is suggested by the fact that 80% of current industrial capacity is now utilized. Neither of the two coordinating ministers for the economy who have served under Gus Dur, Kwik Kian Gie and Rizal Ramli, have been able to move forward on either banking reform or the restructuring of the domestic corporate sector. Both Kwik and Ramli are nationalists, outside the mainstream of domestic and international economic thought, and have resisted or avoided reform when they could.
The recent successes, largely in macroeconomic policy, that have been achieved have been the result of pressure from the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank, backed by the United States. Inflation has been kept below 10%, the central bank has remained independent, and the rupiah continues to be freely traded, helping to spur the record export totals of 2000. Further growth, according to most economists, will require not only banking reform and restructuring of domestic corporate assets, but also political stability that will encourage new foreign investment in part by stabilizing the rupiah and further reducing inflation. Unfortunately, 2001 looks like another year of political turmoil that may end only with the departure of Gus Dur.
In conclusion, on Gus Dur's behalf, it should be added that many of the problems he faces are not of his making and solutions are not readily available due to decades of authoritarian rule and other factors with deep roots in modern Indonesian, Dutch colonial, and even traditional Indonesian history. Examples include: finding common ground with the many Acehnese and Irianese who for good historical reasons now totally reject membership in the Indonesian nation; decentralizing administrative authority to incompetent and venal regional officials; building a modern justice system after fifty years of government neglect of the police, lawyers, prosecutors, and judges; creating well-organized and accountable political parties; and asserting political control over an armed forces whose leaders have no professional control over their own junior officers or troops in the field.
The Promise and Peril of a Megawati Presidency. Megawati may replace Gus Dur within a few months, which makes it necessary to speculate about the prospects for her presidency. In brief, I expect that she will attempt to be a strong president who will: (1) try to reverse governmental decentralization of authority to the regions; (2) deploy the military as her chief instrument of policy implementation toward separatist movements in Aceh, Irian Jaya, and elsewhere; (3) ignore local conflicts, such as in Maluku, which do not threaten national integrity; (4) have less respect for democratic institutions at home, and rely more on the military for political support; and (5) promote a more nationalistic foreign policy which may have negative consequences for economic reform.
For most of her political career Megawati, the eldest daughter of Indonesia's first president, Sukarno, has been an enigmatic figure. She served almost invisibly for two terms in the Suharto-era legislature and was elected in 1993 to the chair of the PDI (the precursor of the current PDI-P) on the initiative of party leaders who thought she would be a powerful vote-getter because of her father's enduring charisma. She became a martyr when Suharto's generals forced her out of the leadership and invaded the party's offices in 1996.
Megawati and her party played little role in the largely grass-roots movement to overthrow Suharto, but her position as party leader and putative presidential candidate seems according to surveys to have substantially boosted the vote for PDI-P in the 1999 election. PDI-P won 34% of the vote, well ahead of the former state party Golkar, which occupied second place with 22%, followed by Gus Dur's PKB with 12%, the Muslim PPP (Partai Persatuan Pembangunan, Development Unity Party) with 10%, and Amien Rais's PAN with 7%. Megawati expected to be handed the presidency by the Assembly, but was out-maneuvered (indeed she hardly did any maneuvering) by the Islamic coalition that settled on Gus Dur. She has since served, mostly quietly, as vice-president.
Megawati is similar to Gus Dur in that she feels that she is entitled, by virtue of her parentage and her party's electoral success, to be president. She is thus likely to be similarly impatient with the need, imposed by the Constitution of 1945, to build a parliamentary system-like coalition of supporting parties in the legislature and Assembly. Neglect of her legislative base combined with vulnerability to charges of corruption, also a Gus Dur problem, may make her hold on her office similarly tenuous.
High-level corruption will continue, but may be more motivated by the desire for personal gain among individual PDI-P party and government officials who can not be controlled by Megawati or a party hierarchy than by the organizational need to build a war chest for the 2004 election campaign. While NU is preparing for 2004 by planning a vast and expensive cadre and patron-client network, PDI-P leaders believe that their success will depend primarily on the effective projection of Megawati's personal image, which can be achieved more cheaply through both government-controlled and private broadcast media in an election-year campaign.
The red thread that will run through Megawati's policy differences with Gus Dur is a narrower, more conservative conception of the national interest and of the primary role of the central bureaucratic and military state apparatus in achieving that interest. In 1999 she opposed President Habibie's offer of a referendum to East Timor, asserting that the Indonesian national territory was indivisible. In recent statements, she has opposed financial demands by regional politicians that she deems excessive and contrary to the common national interest, and reiterated her commitment to keeping Aceh and Irian Jaya within the Republic at all costs.
She has shown little interest in Maluku, where separatism is not an issue, even though Gus Dur sent her there on three occasions to help negotiate peace. She has deplored the tendency of the Jakarta press to exaggerate and sensationalize conflict among elite politicians. This suggests that she may have a less sanguine view of the role of the press in a democracy than does Gus Dur (although Gus Dur has also been critical of the press lately). She has publicly praised and defended the military, which she claims has a special historic role in national political life.
Finally, like Gus Dur, Megawati is largely ignorant of economics and shares in the elite culture's trust in the state and distrust of markets and of the intentions of foreign economic actors. She is thus no more likely than Gus Dur to restart the growth process in a way that will eventually benefit most Indonesians and promote democratization. But where Gus Dur is an instinctive pluralist, as is reflected in his attempt at opening a dialogue with Israel, Megawati is an instinctive monist whose foreign policy is likely to be built on suspicion of outsiders, particularly the capitalist West that was her father's bete noire from the beginning to the end of his political life.
(3) What are the implications for U. S. policy of Gus Dur's present and Megawati's prospective presidencies? How should the U. S. respond to the continuing crisis in Maluku?
General Outlines of U. S. Policy. The following recommendations apply to both the Gus Dur and prospective Megawati governments, except where noted. They are presented substantively, in the order of the discussion in previous sections, rather than in order of importance.
- The U. S. should more actively engage the present democratic regime than we did
Suharto's authoritarian New Order, when our policy was influenced largely by Cold
War considerations and our appreciation for Suharto's record of economic success.
Indonesia is an important country regionally (and potentially globally) whose new
leaders are committed to achieving national unity, democracy, and shared prosperity,
key characteristics of modern societies. The obstacles to their success are enormous,
and the opportunities for outsiders to make a difference are also greater than ever
before.
- With regard to separatist movements and other regional demands, we should
support peaceful efforts by the Indonesian government to negotiate differences in
regions such as Aceh and Irian Jaya. We should also provide technical assistance to
help the government create viable provincial and district/municipality governments.
We should oppose military or police action-currently being contemplated by the Gus
Dur government and strongly supported within the Megawati camp-which is almost
certain to be counterproductive, increasing the hostility of the people of Aceh and
Irian Jaya to Jakarta and to Indonesia.
- We should work toward restoration of programs of assistance to the Indonesian
armed forces to help them become a professional force whose basic mission is
national defense. While the police must eventually take over the responsibility for
maintaining public order, the military will for many years still be called upon in
emergency situations (such as the current Maluku crisis) and must be able to
intervene as a neutral, unbiased force to restore order.
Our assistance should be predicated on a clear understanding that the armed forces have given up their pretension to being an autonomous political actor. Accordingly, the territorial system should be dismantled. Implementation of this recommendation may be more difficult to achieve under a Megawati government, which may be less sensitive to the requirements of civilian supremacy than is Gus Dur.
- We should support a massive program to rebuild the justice system, including
assistance in training and developing police, lawyers, prosecutors, and judges to a
high performance standard. The new Indonesian democracy can not succeed in
meeting the basic needs of its citizens, and will probably not even be stable, if it is not
undergirded with a modern system of justice. Because the roots of the Indonesian
legal system are in continental Europe, this should be a multi-national program. This
recommendation may also be harder to implement under a Megawati government
more protective of the privileges of the state over society.
- We should support the development of a modern party system, responsive and
accountable to citizen demands and as free as possible of corruption, which
delegitimizes democracy. The core institutions of modern democracy, parties are
especially weak in Indonesia because of the legacy of four decades of anti-party
authoritarian rule. International NGOs, like the U. S.-based NDI (National
Democratic Institute) and IRI (International Republican Institute) and the German
party foundations are probably best equipped to help in this area.
- We should continue to press the Indonesian government to adhere to its agreements with the IMF, the World Bank, and other international creditors and donors and in general to keep the economy open domestically and internationally. Market-oriented economic growth, with appropriate government intervention, produces prosperity, as has been amply proved by the East Asian, including Indonesian, experience of the last half-century. It also creates the social and cultural basis for a stable and effective modern democracy. Unfortunately, Megawati and Gus Dur are probably equally reluctant supporters of free markets.
U. S. Policy Toward Maluku. Strict enforcement of the rule of law by a neutral police and an impartial judiciary is the ideal resolution of the Maluku crisis, according to most outside observers. Unfortunately, this approach does not work in much of Indonesia, for reasons already discussed, and has been particularly problematic in Maluku since the initial outbreak of violence in January 1999. Nonetheless, it needs to be stated at the outset, and in conjunction with the general recommendations above, that it is the goal toward which the Indonesian government and interested outside parties should be working.
In the short run, two approaches seem most promising. One is to keep U. S. and international pressure on the Indonesian government to find and prosecute the militia leaders most responsible for the violence. International human rights groups can help by identifying those leaders and documenting their actions. Sanctions against the Indonesian government for failing to take action can include continued embargos on arms sales and isolation of the Indonesian military, accompanied by reminders that the long term goal is restoration of military-to-military assistance under the terms laid out in the general recommendations.
The second approach is to maximize the international presence in Maluku, as a means of keeping a spotlight on the militias and providing a continuing flow of information about their activities to the outside world. This can be accomplished by programs such as those currently being carried out by the UNDP and USAID, most of which provide humanitarian assistance or sponsor Christian-Muslim mediation activities. When the need is for justice, mediation is not likely to be effective, but at least the participants are continuously made aware of the presence of foreigners. These programs also help to encourage the "moderate middle" leadership strata to take control of local society back from the militia.
Finally, while it is true that the Indonesian police and military have proved themselves completely incapable of restoring order in Maluku, an international peacekeeping force does not seem to be a feasible alternative. There is too little backing outside Indonesia and too much hostility in the country to the idea. The domestic hostility has two sources: the extreme sensitivity concerning Christian-Muslim conflict at the center and in many regions of the country; and the 1999 traumatic experience with foreign troops in East Timor. To quote the careful and balanced report of the Brussels-based International Crisis Group, Indonesia: Overcoming Murder and Chaos in Maluku, published in December 2000, "Foreign military intervention in Maluku would be counter-productive, could easily lead to further destabilisation in Indonesia, and should not be sought." The report also suggests offering foreign observers, however, and recommends maintaining and increasing sanctions on the Indonesian military and police.
Copyright © 1999-2001 - Ambon Berdarah On-Line * http://www.go.to/ambon
HTML pages designed and maintained by Alifuru67 * http://www.oocities.org/maluku67
Send your comments to alifuru67@egroups.com