Free and fair elections do not necessarily spell change, writes Damien Kingsbury* Indonesia went to the polls on 5 July, in the country's first direct democratic presidential elections. If democracy is about having the option of voting, then Indonesia has finally come of age, with all citizens now having a direct say in who will be their president. Yet this remains a country that is still struggling to throw off the shackles of the New Order, in which presidential candidates present no real policies, in which the military is again politically powerful, corruption remains rampant and the domestic economy a shambles, and in which the "war on terror" is used as an excuse to violently suppress separatist sentiment. In such an environment, one may ask whether voting is enough of a definition of democracy, which remains a tenuous notion in the archipelago. The incumbent heading into the elections, Megawati Sukarnoputri, achieved office with much goodwill, but exemplified a tendency to do nothing and say less. If Megawati had one strength, however, it was that she enjoyed the overwhelming support of the Indonesian military. One of the most interesting developments in the presidential elections race was the candidature of former military commander General (retired) Wiranto. Wiranto was under a cloud, however, having been indicted by a court in Dili on war crimes in East Timor in 1999. Wiranto's advantages included having the support of the Golkar Party (of Suharto fame). He was also perceived as a strong -- quasi-authoritarian -- leader, and had access to very significant funds, both from his own extensive business investments and other sources. Miranto also has a lovely singing voice, which he employed to great advantage at public political rallies, saving him from having to present actual policies. Two of the candidates, Amien Rais and Hamza Haz, never looked like serious contenders in the race. Amien, the head of the National Mandate Party and one-time leader of Indonesia's second biggest Islamic organisation, Muhammadiyah, appeared to tilt for the presidency as a means of gathering support to secure another position. Megawati Sukarnoputri's vice-president and leader of the explicitly Islamic United Development Party (PPP), Hamza only chose to run for president when Megawati overlooked him as her running mate. The most popular candidate ahead of the polls was Lieutenant- General (retired) Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono. A former military reformist, Susilo was later appointed by both Abdurrahman Wahid and Megawati as Coordinating Minister for Political and Security Affairs. However, Megawati's husband, Taufik Riemas, pushed him out of the cabinet when it became clear that Susilo harboured his own ambitions toward the presidency. Each of the candidates will face the same challenges after assuming office this coming October. Following the experience of a "strong" president under Suharto in which capacity for control was mixed with ruthless corruption, and the relative incompetence of his successors, there is a widespread belief in Indonesia that presidential authority must be balanced by a strong legislature that can function independently of the president. But with no party dominating the legislature, combined with the increased power of the Lower House relative to the presidency, any president would have to reflect at least some of the various parties' interests. This means that the new cabinet, to be appointed in October, will probably include representatives of the various parties, who will be chosen not for their competence but for their political constituency. Meanwhile, Indonesia's military, Tentara Nasional Indonesia (TNI) has re-established itself as a major political force in Indonesian domestic affairs. With Megawati as president, the TNI has assumed greater political authority and autonomy -- in cabinet, constitutional affairs and security matters. From April this year, the TNI no longer has representation in the legislature. However, its removal from this political arena, while important, was largely cosmetic. The TNI's real political and economic strength derives from its territorial structure, through which the military locates itself throughout the archipelago to hold it together, by force if necessary. Moves towards winding this in were not only scrapped in 2002, but the structure was actually expanded. As Abdurrahman Wahid discovered, the capacity for the TNI to undermine a president was (and remains) substantial. Similarly, knowing its own vulnerability, Indonesia's political and economic elite has been quick to coalesce around the TNI, making it relatively easy for the military to construct a substantial opposition to political leaders it believes are trying to obstruct its self-selecting political agenda. Indonesia has experienced a resurgence of political Islam which has been tightly controlled under Suharto. While much of this is manifested in political parties and social and welfare groups, the past five years have also seen the development of radical Islamic militias. These share a basic common philosophy with, or have direct links to global terrorist organisations, such as Al-Qaeda. Mainstream Islamic parties are not anti- democratic, but the push by minor parties for Islamic law and a belief among some about the redundancy of democracy under this law does slip too easily into promoting jihad (holy war). Efforts to quash extreme Islamic groups are a sensitive area for any government, and no political leader wants to alienate the Islamic community, especially given that an attack on some Muslims is seen as an attack on all. So, while politicians may pay lip service to cracking down on terrorism, if they were to actually do it, there would be popular backlash. Although Indonesia was deeply reluctant to be drawn into the American "war on terror", it did employ what President Megawati's adviser Rizal Mallarangeng called "the blessing of 11 September" to re-assert its own domestic military agenda, and re-legitimise its profoundly tarnished special forces, Kopassus, for its counter-terrorist function. The Bali bombing of October 2002, which killed 202 foreign and local people, and injured many more, only reinforced the perceived need for a strong anti-terrorist force in Indonesia. However, except for the joint effort with Australian Federal Police in tracking down those directly involved in the Bali and Marriott Hotel bombings, the now internationally recognised terrorist organisation Jemah Islamiah (JI) has effectively been ignored by the TNI and other Indonesian authorities. Dozens of bombings from 1999 onwards, which have been attributed to JI, were only haphazardly investigated. When assessing Indonesia's transition to democracy, it is therefore necessary to keep in mind the constraints inherent in the lack of a democratic tradition and limited support for the idea itself among some groups. Those groups are often led by corrupt and invariably self-serving politicians, disparate cultural societies with local claims to self-determination and, guaranteeing cohesion to this complex environment, an authoritarian, corrupt and often brutal military. In one sense then, it did not matter who filled the role of president of Indonesia, because the requirements and constraints of the position would have been the same for all candidates. And while Indonesia's unsteady steps towards democratisation, including the direct election of the president, are to be applauded, there remains a compliance among much of the voting public that is only matched for its political disassociation by the cynicism of the country's self-serving and in most cases mutually reinforcing economic and political elites. * The writer is senior lecturer at Deakin University, Australia.
