A ‘No Drop’ solution to leaks in Indonesia’s democratic systemJulia Suryakusuma ; The author of Julia’s Jihad |
JAKARTA POST, 05 Maret 2014
| If you live in Jakarta and are lucky enough to avoid flooding during the rainy season, you probably still have had to put up with leaks through cracks in the roof, walls and windows. Obviously you want to protect yourself from these occurrences. Left unchecked, they can result in a huge amount of damage. A television ad for “No Drop” water-proofing paint offers the solution. It features a (Caucasian) couple in bed. The wife starts to take off her husband’s PJs. From the expression on her face, it’s clear what’s on her mind: making whoopee. Suddenly the screen goes black and her voice is heard in the darkness, “How come it’s wet? Is there a leak?” Lights on again, and the couple are sitting up in bed looking at water pouring out of holes in the wall like a sieve. “Bocor, bocor! (leaking, leaking!)”, the wife shrieks. The scene cuts to “later”, and back in bed the husband reassures her that there will be no more leaks in the house because now he’s “condomized” the house with No Drop paint. Lights out and the couple get on with plugging their own leaks. If only it was that easy! While leaks in our houses only happen during the rainy season, the rotting of our democratic system seems to be a year-round phenomenon, with corruption seeping in everywhere. And it’s not just a drip-drip leak though tiny cracks in the system but more like floods gushing in through big gaping holes. Yes, there has been a torrent of ministers and legislators caught red-handed, but I guess few were surprised by that. What did come as a shock was the news that the rising damp has now spread to one of the few national institutions most people considered clean: the Constitutional Court (MK). Akil Mochtar, appointed its chief justice in April 2013, allegedly took bribes for favorable rulings in a number of local election disputes. Talk about ironic. The court was set up after Reformation in 1998, with the aim of safeguarding democracy, good governance and constitutional rights. Its functions include resolving disputes over the jurisdiction of state institutions, general election results and dissolution of political parties. It also has the authority to make a decision if the House of Representatives (DPR) thinks the president or vice president should be impeached. And of course, the court plays a historic role as the only Indonesian court since independence with the power to review the constitutionality of national statutes. Pretty high and mighty huh? And under the leadership of Jimly Asshiddique, the first chief justice (2003-2008), the court became the “poster boy” for reform in a judicial system that for half a century has generally been considered incompetent and corrupt. And it wasn’t shy about expanding its powers to influence the making and application of laws, thus bringing itself into direct conflict with the DPR, the most powerful body in post-Soeharto Indonesia. Establishing itself as clean and fiercely independent, actively exercising its review powers with rigor and transparency to keep politicians high and dry, the court gained great esteem in the public eye. Until now that is. Thanks to Akil, the MK has sprung a major leak, a humungously devastating one, in fact — little short of a national disaster. Standards have been sliding since Mohammad Mahfud MD became the second chief justice (2008-2013) but Akil takes the prize for plunging the reputation of the court to the bottom of the sewer. Jimly was so outraged that he called for Akil’s execution, although he later pointed out it is important to separate Akil’s criminal actions from the institution of the court. Obviously, he doesn’t want to throw out the baby with the bathwater (especially since it’s his baby!). Adnan Buyung Nasution, a leading advocate and key figure in the development of human rights law and constitutionalism in Indonesia, and one of the original proponents of the MK, differs. He feels there is a connection between the two and says that giving the court the job of resolving pilkada (regional elections) disputes was a mistake. “They are a source of corruption, because there are so many and too often the losers don’t want to accept the election results,” and this was something Akil took advantage of. Adnan feels amendments are needed to retract the court’s power over pilkada disputes and hand them to the regular courts. “Otherwise, how can we trust the court in the future especially when we are facing general elections?” If found guilty, Akil will be punished, of course, but the bigger question is whether the court will survive his actions. More than any other post-Soeharto institution, aside from the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK), the court has been able to act as a check on government and legislators, making sure they stick to the rules of the game. As a result, our politicians hate the MK almost as much as they hate the KPK. Now that it has sprung a leak, they are already circling it, demolition hammers in hand. The title of a talk show on Metro TV on Oct. 5 last year, Skandal suap MK: Kiamat peradilan Indonesia? (The Constitutional Court bribery scandal: Doomsday for Indonesia’s judicial system?), nicely summed up the problem but it goes even further than that. The scandal, and how it is resolved, will be a litmus test of democratization. Together, the MK and the KPK have been a national “No Drop solution” to protect Indonesia against the erosion of constitutionalism and democracy. If they are diluted, stand back, folks, and watch the dirty water flood in. ● |
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