End death penalty, even if we’re not all that humane Ati Nurbaiti  ;   A staff writer at The Jakarta Post

JAKARTA POST, 23 Januari 2015

                                                                                                                                     

“Take not life, which God has made sacred, except by way of justice and law. Thus does He command you, so that you may learn wisdom.” This quote from the Koran is among the sources of Muslims’ agreement here with Indonesia’s capital punishment, despite wide criticism of the Criminal Code inherited from Dutch colonial times — and despite endless lambasting of the judiciary as being among the nation’s foremost corrupt institutions. Support for the death penalty also comes from many, regardless of religion, particularly for the crimes of terrorism and drug abuse, the latter given the real fear of anyone’s youngsters being exposed to drug traffickers, from small-town alleys across the vast country, to the middle-class suburbs of the capital. Families financially and emotionally drained by an addict are not the subject of daily headlines, but the sporadic, dramatic police raids and arrest of suspected abusers, producers and traffickers with large numbers of banned drugs invigorate the emotional push for strong government measures. And not many care to differentiate the drug user from the traffickers. It is such fears and sentiments that make the concern of human rights activists ring hollow in society, even as stated by the UN special rapporteur for Indonesia, with a name unfortunately harking back to the old colonial land, Cornelis Flinterman, who recently visited the country: “Crimes involving narcotics cannot be considered the most serious crime for which the death penalty can be used as a legitimate penalty,” he said. Indonesian diplomats to ordinary citizens have dismissed such protests from the UN, the European Union, home governments of the executed and death-row convicts and global rights organizations. They have defended President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo, who has declared there will be no clemency for drug abuse convicts. Thus, at least 20 other drug convicts on death row can expect louder international solidarity for their fate, though with little empathy here. However, the appeal of, among others, the National Commission on Human Rights to end the death penalty in related laws apart from the Criminal Code should be supported; it is inevitable that Indonesia, which has adopted the universal human rights principles, acknowledges that the right to life is non-derogable. True, many of us are not as humane as human rights activists — surely terrorists and traffickers deserve to be shot, as like murderers they have no respect for others’ lives and continue to wreak damage and destruction from behind prison bars? But the chronic problem of Indonesia being a destination, production center, apart from a hub, of drug trafficking shows law enforcement, including shooting convicts to death, has not solved the issue. Similar to reports of new recruits to extremist movements, the death penalty has not deterred extreme jihadists. Support for capital punishment here for drug abusers is based on strong religious beliefs and the equally strong conviction that nothing less than killing perpetrators destroying our children and families will help reduce the crime. Such convictions remain, even as reports reveal that the big fish remain untouchable, that small-scale abusers become recruited into smuggling rings in prison, and as cleaning the judiciary from corruption has not been able to catch up with daily, large-scale graft across the legal system, from the police to the courts to prison wardens — meaning that those most deserving of the death sentence under our laws can escape, as long as they diligently grease the palms of the law enforcers. Millions of citizens are satisfied with the announcement of the executions, rather than giving convicts the comparable comfort of life-long imprisonment — but this is not upholding justice. President Jokowi has successfully signaled his intent to uphold the law against drug smugglers. He could lead us a step forward in making drug abuse policies more effective and improve credibility in a judiciary that aims to deliver justice, including the heaviest penalties to those deserving them. This is not to say that those executed on Sunday were innocent. But just because we cannot clean the judiciary fast enough compared to countries ranking much lower on global corruption index lists, does not mean we can take the fast lane and kill some convicts. As a former trafficker told me, those who get arrested and jailed are just stupid. The real kings of the business diligently consort with law enforcers and stay clean of drug abuse themselves. They will less likely be caught shooting up, or perspiring near customs officers like the drug mules. In current conditions, we have little clout in speaking up for over 200 citizens on death row abroad. At the very least President Jokowi needs to put a hold on death penalties — because the executions’ message is not law enforcement and justice. It is law enforcement, but still selective justice to those who didn’t manage to escape the firing squad. ●

Aceh’s communities look to traditional support Ati Nurbaiti  ;   A staff writer at The Jakarta Post

JAKARTA POST,  26 Desember 2014

                                                                                                                       

A popular Acehnese dish is a vegetable soup full of coconut milk, but one resident unexpectedly mentions it in bitterness. “We are like the coconut in the pliek u,” says Misran Yusuf, a local cleric in what was one of the most devastated coastal villages in the capital. The survivor of the 2004 disaster that hit his village, the popular beach resort of Lampuuk in Banda Aceh, was describing daily hardships. The coconut’s content is repeatedly squeezed to yield enough milk for the soup. Today many say they are still very poor and have almost given up on inept local governments and people’s representatives. To better cope, one current effort is to revive the traditional lowest decision-making institutions: the dewan adat (customary councils) and the local imam, the gatherings in the meunasah (local mosques), the gampong (villages) and their keuchik (chiefs) — who are often no longer the typical old wise men. “I shouldn’t be a village head,” says Mujibulloh, the head of another largely wiped-out village, Ujung Pancu, who estimates his age at 40. But he was the only one villagers could trust and now he oversees 87 families. The gampong heads became increasingly essential in rebuilding communities, especially where land was no longer inhabitable for the few survivors, either because it had been swept out to sea, or because the land had become too close to the receding shoreline — down to 2 kilometers or less in several areas. Tsunami debris is still seen on some coastal sites. To settle land disputes after the calamity, locals also turned to village heads, who consulted customary elders where possible; the old markers like big trees and stones had been washed away from many claimed plots, most or all of those entitled to inheritance had died and vacant plots were prey to other claimants at a time when land was increasingly scarce. The Acehnese have also revived their traditional profession-based leaders, such as the leaders of fisherfolk, the panglima laot (sea commanders). In Ujung Pancu, sea commander Afrizal is another young leader who had to step up to lead, as his predecessor had to replace the regional panglima laot, who died. Among other tasks, Afrizal mediates disputes over boat accidents involving fishermen and boat owners from other areas, by meeting with their respective panglima laot. The sea commanders also register fishermen’s children to access scholarships from the elementary level to higher education, but families must be patient, he says, as the annual quota is small. Children of widows are prioritized, Afrizal says. Environmentalists and marine biologists from the Syiah Kuala University work with the sea commanders in rehabilitating the ecology ruined by the earthquake and tsunami. “We have reached an agreement with the community leaders against bombing” coral reefs, the common practice of fishermen in coastal villages like Ujung Pancu, says Firdus, a lecturer of the university’s biology department. To prevent often failed efforts in planting of mangrove or pines, to protect the coast in the event of another coastal disaster, Afrizal says local authorities should actually visit the areas under their jurisdiction. He adds that he has also demanded local officials study feasible income-generating activities as the water is no longer suitable for shrimp ponds, which were all wiped out in the tsunami; the nearby river was also submerged.  Similarly, Misran in Lampuuk vents anger at local agricultural officials who he says have not helped with urgent needs like irrigation. Poor villagers include former guerrillas and victims of war who were entitled to reparations following the 2005 peace agreement. “But former GAM members came to realize that as former fighters in other villages weren’t getting anything, so they did not make demands on me,” says the keuchik Mujibulloh. Facing the open sea with easy escape routes despite scattered security posts, villages like Ujung Pancu were known as GAM strongholds. Apart from accessing local authorities and making decisions there is not much local leaders can do in very poor villages lacking outside support. “There’s no way to set up a cooperative here,” Afrizal says. “Fishermen even think seven times to borrow Rp 1 million. They will borrow, say, Rp 200,000 [US$80.14] from friends to go fishing for a few days.” Local leaders have had to appease residents regarding allegations of unfair distribution of aid. Rizal, a village secretary in Calang, another largely wiped-out coastal town in West Aceh, says. requested aid for poor widows, for example, is always short. “We were told we cannot yet get all the needed rice for the poor families and widows,” says Rizal, adding that the gampong distributes the available rice as fairly as possible to all the needy in turn. The keucik and other leaders say they are doing what they can to help communities still deeply affected by the war and the disaster — and local politics.  “Maybe we’re not getting enough subsidized rice because we are not one of those desa pejuang [warrior villages],” says another village official. Such villages were those considered fully loyal to the GAM, who now dominate the local legislature, he says. ●

Bringing out the beauties, not the beasts Ati Nurbaiti  ;   A staff writer at The Jakarta Post

JAKARTA POST, 21 September 2014

                                                                                                                       

                                                      

An ongoing film competition and the continuous reports of school bullying makes one hope that more and more efforts can bring about the beauties in us, rather than the beasts. Several such “beauties” emerged from this week’s finalists in the annual Eagle Awards for documentaries by amateurs, which this year has turned a decade old. Early next month, three winners will be announced, including a favorite selected by the audience (you can vote on eagleawards-doc.com). Today is the last day of the public screening of the five documentaries in Jakarta and other cities. Unfortunately we have also been reminded of the beasts, following reports of this week’s strike of students “in solidarity” with 13 schoolmates expelled for bullying at the prestigious SMA 70 senior high school in South Jakarta — infamous for its chronic neglect of bullying reports.  The incident once again shows that efforts to end bullying and head off our notorious culture of thuggish behavior must come from local to national leaders, even though new ones like president-elect Joko “Jokowi” Widodo seem to think tip-toeing around powerful groups might be the more strategic thing to do. Already his team has signaled that the settlements of past human rights violations are not a priority, unwittingly giving breathing space to past and present abusers, at levels high and low. At the above school, even if the decision to expel the students may have been driven by the influence of the victim’s father, reportedly a high-ranking official, the strike still brings to mind the ugly protests of thugs each time the authorities attempt to merely wag a finger at them. Whether students, soldiers, street thugs or high-ranking masterminds of violence and murder, their resistance against efforts to rectify what has become a widespread habit — and even sense of entitlement once one is in a position of relative power — has been shown to be worse than resistance against efforts to tackle graft. While we harbor faint hopes for the new government to clearly signal zero tolerance on thuggish behavior, violence and prolonged impunity, it is a relief to look at all this talent scouting via programs like the Eagles documentary training and competition. As Tourism and Creative Economy Minister Mari E. Pangestu says, creativity is in our genes. In one of the five finalists’ films, a day laborer who hauls stones in a Central Java village says he is of “low status”, hanging his head. Ibin lives alone and gets extra money selling coconuts though only at Rp 1,000 (8 US cents) a piece, meaning he needs to sell a lot to cover a vital need — phone and Internet connections. For in the evenings Ibin and his friends  study and work on graphic designs, occasionally winning international competitions and getting paid a lot of cash. The shy young man finally grins at the camera, proclaiming he’s now more confident with the girls. The awards, pioneered by MetroTV and now managed by the Eagle Institute, have produced 99 filmmakers, the proud organizers and coaches say. This year’s finalists, including a midwife and a vendor, are amazing as most claim to have never held a camera before.  The feats of the characters and their storytellers from diverse parts of the country makes one walk away encouraged about the talents around us (which makes it even more regretful that MetroTV does not try hard to distance itself from the NasDem Party and its boss Surya Paloh). Another encouraging example is choreographer Yola Yulfianti, who performed her creation at the Ismail Marzuki Arts Center in Jakarta on Tuesday. She is one of four winners of this year’s fellowship for women artists from an institute dedicated to the development of performing arts, the Kelola Foundation founded by former ballerina Linda Hoemar. Yola’s performance (titled “I think...tonk”) was based on her experience working with youth in one of the capital’s most problematic areas. For the past few years Yola and a few other groups have facilitated arts classes in Johar Baru, Central Jakarta, to help youngsters express themselves in a fun way. This is one of the top-ranking subdistricts for population density, fires and frequency of kampung fights. A regular month can see days of brawls in the morning, afternoon and evening, resident Bambang Suryono said, as quoted in a report, “and even more during the fasting month”. Often fights are triggered by petty, unclear reasons, true to tradition, just like the school battles. Sociologist Paulus Wirutomo identified over 50 “hanging out” groups in the subdistrict, joined by youngsters far less privileged than most students of SMA 70.  As there is not enough space at home, residents can even take turns sleeping, he said. Johar Baru is part of the Kampung Deret slum rehabilitation program begun under Jakarta Governor Jokowi, and together with all the do-gooders facilitating education and the arts, hopefully the young generation will really see alternatives for them other than the customary tawuran (brawls). Along with the facilitation of creativity and recent visible intolerance against bullying, as displayed by Jokowi and his controversial deputy Basuki “Ahok” Tjahaja Purnama, hopefully students and the young generation in general will not grow up thinking seniority and power equals having the right to abuse those who are weaker than them. But when he becomes president next month, Jokowi will see that it takes much more resolve to face up to abusers who draw their sources of power from much more than mere school seniority. ●

‘President Idol’ and our compromise on leaders Ati Nurbaiti  ;   A staff writer at The Jakarta Post

JAKARTA POST,  01 Juni 2014

                                                

                                                                                         

                                                      

Ahead of the July presidential election, many are excited, nervous, bored — or crossing their fingers. Rather than getting stressed out, it is better to enjoy the jokes making the rounds via cell phones. One of the latest is the “Song List” of presidential and vice presidential aspirants. The uninitiated can simply check YouTube for renditions of the songs, while locals will instantly recognize the songs and their corresponding moods for the English and local pop and dangdut oldies. The song list of “President Idol”, as the joke mentions, features our outgoing musical President and current and former aspirants: *Prabowo Subianto: “It’s now or never…”, as the dishonorably discharged Army’s Special Forces (Kopassus) chief looks hell-bent on winning well before his mid-60s; *Hatta Rajasa: “Hidupku terkekang...” (My life is in shackles...); not sure why this suggests that the former coordinating economic minister, chairman of the National Mandate Party (PAN) and vice presidential candidate for Prabowo, had no choice; *Joko “Jokowi” Widodo: “I believe I can fly ...”, fit for the former skinny underdog when he was vying for the Jakarta governorship, and belatedly announced as presidential candidate by his party; *Jusuf Kalla: “Di sini senang, di sana senang...” (I’m happy here, I’m happy there...), as the former Golkar Party chief gleefully pairs with Jokowi while other confused Golkar leaders support Prabowo; *Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono: “Kemesraan ini... janganlah cepat berlalu…” (Don’t let our moment of tenderness go by quickly), as the President steps down in a few months; *Aburizal Bakrie: “Sunyi sepi sendiri…” (All alone and lonely...), as the Golkar chairman was scurrying here and there to be courted and ended up with Prabowo, although perhaps not getting much in return; *Wiranto: “Aku masih seperti yg dulu…” (I’m still the one I used to be...) — the former military commander is surprised Hanura Party by hopping to Jokowi’s ship; *Rhoma Irama: “Cukup sekali... aku merasa…” (Once was enough...), as the king of dangdut was disillusioned by broken promises of being made the presidential candidate of the Islamic-based National Awakening Party (PKB), which jumped on Jokowi’s wagon;  *Suryadharma Ali: “Jangan ditanya kemana aku pergi...” (Don’t ask where I’m going ...) — the disgraced religious affairs minister, a staunch supporter of Prabowo and chairman of United Development Party (PPP), resigned after being declared a suspect in a Rp 1 trillion (US$86 million) graft case. Such ingenious jokes are really handy amid nagging questions. For instance, how did you get stuck with these candidates? How come we only got these two pairs? Foreigners try to phrase these questions very nicely, but we get the message — that the end result of only two pairs of candidates are below expectations of what looks like a thriving democracy of 250 million people. Recent history shows how we got stuck with Prabowo-Hatta and Jokowi-JK; we got the leaders we deserve, as the saying goes. Given an estimate of 40 percent undecided voters, the July 9 outcome is still unpredictable. But the pairings are indications of the leaders we deserve. So why don’t we have more choices? The blame usually goes to the New Order and former president Soeharto, and before him, Sukarno, who, like other brash, handsome, charismatic “revolutionary” leaders, became authoritarian, pesky old men (but Sukarno showed much more appreciation for God’s beautiful creatures). Under these leaders, one risked prison time, and a lot more, for expressing dissent, so under the stunted growth of leaders we got figures who cleverly parroted their bosses’ will to the masses. But let’s be grateful — 16 years after reformasi we aren’t whining again that we have only the same old faces to choose from. Now there’s Jokowi, who is from neither dynasties nor one of the ruling elite or ruling institutions. He was among quite a few local figures, largely of local higher education, who became elected mayors, regents and lawmakers who actually did some good, turning heads among the bulk of rising leaders who gained popularity, then notoriety, when they caught the attention of the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK). Even those linked to the establishment must sound reformist too, though partners-in-arms like the Prosperous Justice Party (PKS) in Prabowo’s coalition look conservative. Prabowo is Soeharto’s former son-in-law, but is remembered for his youthful days; even without a clear record in civilian leadership except for his chairmanship of the national farmers’ association, the main characteristic he is associated with, “firmness”, comes from his illustrious military career and reflects yearnings for such a leader. Golkar has officially teamed up with him, and they had better not repeat Golkar’s campaigning strategy ahead of the legislative election when it used images of Soeharto; for Prabowo’s Gerindra is aware that not all may dream of the good old days when gasoline was a few US cents per liter. Further, as we sought an end to corruption, collusion and nepotism (KKN), are we sure that all the candidates are squeaky clean? And given demands to end human rights abuses, many ask how we got Prabowo as a candidate as various allegations against him remain unresolved. The answer to the first is no, we’re not that sure. And the answer to both is that we settled for a compromise, partly given the dearth of potential leaders.  Despite demands to end KKN, they weren’t enough to result in policies that cut off state officials and their families to state funds and projects, for example. Today’s lawmakers and officials have profited heavily from Soeharto’s resistance to close his children’s access to various economic privileges. And despite demands to end impunity, there has clearly been inadequate demands for accountability. Today’s pairings reflect our progress, and our insistence on doing business as usual. Not a very merry tune. ●

Thank You, Irene Asia’s voice against censorship Ati Nurbaiti  ;   A staff writer at The Jakarta Post

JAKARTA POST, 10 April 2014

                                                            

                                                                                         

                                                             

If there were more individuals like Irene Fernandez, the leading Malaysian activist who passed away on March 31, perhaps reports on our migrant workers would not be so bleak. To see much faster progress in this situation, we would need many more men and women like the feisty and fearless Irene. But we would also need a much larger, safer open space for people to speak up in the countries where our migrants head to, countries like Malaysia and Saudi Arabia. For Fernandez’s critical legacy is her unwillingness to bow to censorship. Her work shows how transparency and demands for human rights are Asian, not Western, basic needs and values. Malaysians and Indonesians are among the Asian nations often upset over reports from international human rights groups, however, human rights abuses exposed by Fernandez were not pleasant to hear either. In the wake of her passing at 67 years old, following illness, Indonesian activists thanked Fernandez for what they described as a source of inspiration from her persistent energy, warmth, encouragement as well as focused and sharp analysis — not to mention from humor and a love of dance. Last week’s celebration of Fernandez’s life hosted by the National Commission for Violence against Women (Komnas Perempuan), featured stories of her contribution from the international to local stage: from the recommendation to state parties on women migrant workers in the UN Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW), based on Fernandez’s study on migrant workers’ conditions — to her personal touch, such as checking whether troubled migrants in Malaysia had finally reached their homes in Karawang, West Java. Fernandez’s work reminds us that even incremental progress can only be achieved with constant digging of otherwise tightly covered and unacknowledged facts. Her organization Tenaganita had exposed what the Malaysian media could not: the death of dozens of Bangladeshi workers from reportedly preventable causes of beriberi, a sign of malnutrition, in an illegal detention camp. Initial reports in 1995 had come from journalists of Malaysian newspaper The Sun, but when they found the story could not be reported, they handed it over to Tenaganita, writes Steven Gan, one of the journalists and a founder of Malaysiakini. Fernandez’s subsequent arrest for “false news” on the Bangladeshis, and a seven-year trial, failed to dampen her spirit; she was acquitted in 2008. She was investigated by police again over a statement made to The Jakarta Post in 2012, that Malaysia was “completely not” safe for Indonesian migrant workers. Indonesians are among the millions indebted to Fernandez; her study taken up by the UN shed light on the condition of the world’s migrant workers, especially the large proportion of female maids from countries including Indonesia, Nepal, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and the Philippines. With Asian activists she helped push the dramatic move to include Middle Eastern countries in the protection of their Asian migrant workers, former commissioners of Komnas Perempuan said. Fernandez, herself the daughter of a South Indian migrant worker, would argue strongly how migrant labor policies should take into account experiences specific to women, from their countries of origin to their designated workplaces. As the activists said at the remembrance event, her work not only contributed to recommendations for better policies for migrant workers in the UN Convention, but also significantly empowered female activists. Consider that it was in Hong Kong, not the so-called favorite migrant workers’ destinations of Malaysia or Saudi Arabia, where Indonesian maids set up their first union — and not even in Indonesia — meaning that for all our democracy, our feudalism has not enabled maids to speak up for themselves. Unlike the Indonesian domestic workers flocking Hong Kong’s Victoria Park on their days off, local maids mostly don’t even have Sundays off. Our freedoms since reformasi, however, have led to a wider push for freedom of expression and human rights, a movement also growing in other countries including Malaysia. Meanwhile in Middle Eastern countries our diplomats complain of limited personnel to handle the scores of reports mainly from domestic workers. Without adequate channels for their grievances, one can only imagine that in extreme cases, desperate women turn into murderers. We may be criticized for going overboard with our press freedom, yet, our society still tramples on its own domestic workers. But if even just for the sake of our fellow citizens toiling far from home, including Satinah binti Jumadi Ahmad who faces execution in Saudi Arabia for murdering her employer, Indonesians must support movements to widen safe public space to air grievances in largely closed societies. In particular, press workers in profitable media outlets should be embarrased that it takes individuals like Irene Fernandez to shake up public awareness of what happens to migrants who help reduce widespread unemployment and poverty in their home countries. ●

Women’s Day : Beyond the 37 percent Ati Nurbaiti  ;   A staff writer at The Jakarta Post

JAKARTA POST,  10 Maret 2014

                                                                                                                        

                                                                                         

                                                                                                             

Beyond expectations the final legislative candidates list included 37 percent women or about 74,000 from almost 200,000 across the nation. This was naturally because all the political parties chased after women to avoid being disqualified for not having at least 30 percent of female candidates for the House of Representatives, the provincial and regional legislative councils and the Regional Representative Council (DPD). The figure alone was a source of a bit of cheer on this year’s International Women’s Day, though there is considerable whispering about the candidates’ qualifications. A number of women’s groups, within and outside the Indonesian Women’s Coalition (KPI), are organizing a series of events until next month in conjunction with the international day. They aim to ensure that regardless of how many women actually make it to the legislative bodies, the resulting policies will benefit the grassroots, including women who make up over 49 percent of the population. This is the right approach, as women have realized that despite the minimum percentage of female candidates much less will be elected and even less will likely push for policies that would “benefit the grassroots”. And to be able to ensure such policies the women’s movement needs to show it can network widely and influentially across the parties. In a bid to get better policies than those deliberated over the last five years, the women activists said they would have to work much more intensively with lawmakers. Coalition of Indonesian Women for Justice and Democracy (KPIKD) secretary-general Dian Kartikasari acknowledged Friday that there were many more meaningful laws resulting from the House’s 2004 batch, compared to the 2009 one, which had the highest percentage of women lawmakers in Indonesian history — 18 percent of the 560 members. As part of consolidating forces the women’s groups, together with student organizations, particularly the women, launched the Movement for Plural Indonesia on Friday — Gerakan Indonesia Beragam. While beragam means plural, they said it stood for an Indonesia that should be sovereign, clean from corruption, just, gender sensitive and diverse. Among others trends of fundamentalism threatening the interests of women, said Misiyah of the Kapal Perempuan (Women’s Ship) Institute, the reproductive rights of women are even more ignored, she said. The high maternal mortality rate of 359 for every 100,000 live births is dragging the country back to almost a decade ago, she said. While many factors are responsible for these women dying in labor or pregnancy, Misiyah said it was patriarchy that contributed heavily to decisions regarding women, mainly in poor households, in need, which resulted in late access to medical help. Anis Hidayah, leader of Migrant Care, blamed “gender-blind” policies that failed to protect the millions of — mainly female — migrant workers; dozens are dying by the day, yet, the budget to protect them has decreased, she said. How many of the newly elected lawmakers will understand issues like this? This is the concern of the women’s movement, which realizes that women politicians more or less share the blame for lack of influence on decision makers. The women and men who will win the legislative elections would mostly include incumbents. Of the current candidates, the KPI’s Dian said 18 percent of women were likely to get elected — those numbered 1 to 3 by their political parties on the ballots. About a quarter were assigned lower numbers, a sign that they were not considered serious contenders by their parties. Political analyst Ani Soetjipto says as political parties virtually grabbed women to avoid disqualification, it’s better to reserve more hope of more quality women candidates for the 2019 elections. But within and outside the legislative bodies, it is urgent that women groups work as closely as possible with decision makers from whatever political faction. Not many activists look thrilled even though many of their own have been recruited by the political parties. As making up almost half the population “women are the main targets of transactional politics,” said another activist. A founder of the Women-headed Household Association (Pekka), Nani Zulminarni, says thousands of its members had been asked to support almost 30 fellow members recruited into diverse parties. But she expressed concern that these women, who lead a few dozen to a few thousand in their communities, had been driven into a lion’s den. “Never mind, they’ll come out tougher,” says Nani. Pekka aims to accompany these women regardless if they win or lose, she added. The question is how the women’s movement will be able to accompany female and male lawmakers from the local to national level. Activists have acknowledged that the movement has not managed to become as solid as other powers that have emerged from decentralization. The most painful evidence includes local sharia-inspired bylaws, which potentially discriminate women. Women activists widely protested one of the first such bylaws in the city of Tangerang in Banten; they lost the lawsuit and many other similar bylaws cropped up in other cities and regencies. Women’s voices were united against violence, as clearly shown in the passing of the law on domestic violence. But when policies touch on morality, these are the hardest test of women’s clout, as many women willingly and proudly rally for symbols of their community’s identity, such as the pious Muslim. Ahead of the 2014 elections the women’s movement has little time to strengthen its unity, while power seekers seek their participation in a system where they must figure out and maneuver space to influence decisions. Some of their idealists, if elected, might rot as many incumbents fear. An attempt to remind incumbents and new politicians of their commitment to a more-just society includes the planned rallies and dialogues in the following weeks in 53 regencies and municipalities, just one part of bringing together the older and new generation of the women’s movement. Such efforts are small steps, but remain crucial. They must continue if women hope to move beyond mere figures of their representation. ●