Margot Cohen, Jakarta – The partygoers brought their own weapons-rocks, bricks, knives, machetes, even snakes, were brandished in the final weeks of the general election campaign, dubbed the "festival of democracy." Riots and sporadic attacks spiralled in Jakarta and towns throughout Indonesia in the final days of the campaign before the May 29 elections. The unusual violence of the campaign repelled many voters, but others could sense some logic behind the lunacy. "The mass violence is a veiled reaction against political corruption and bureaucratic constraints," maintains Mulyana Kusumah, a criminology lecturer at the University of Indonesia. "It's a form of resistance."
At first, people just seemed to be having fun defying this year's ban on campaign parades of trucks, cars and motorcycles. Given the alarming number of accidents in previous campaigns, and recent riots with ethnic and religious overtones, the government was rightfully wary. But there was no stopping the grassroots gusto for convoys, particularly among restless youth. With one chance in five years to let off steam, they took to the streets with horns blazing and banners flying.
"They feel free on the road," says Andra Vaksiandra, an editor of the teen magazine Hai. That freedom extended to switching parties at the drop of a T-shirt. Youthful campaigners, their faces painted in gaudy makeup and hair shaved in the shape of party symbols, chanted, danced and lunged at TV cameras for their split second of fame.
Gradually, however, this bright carnival atmosphere darkened into dangerous shows of force. Most of the violence was not between factions of the Indonesian Democratic Party, the PDI, as some had predicted. Many voters have written off the PDI as an impotent force, due to the split triggered by the government's ouster of Megawati Sukarnoputri as chairman. Instead, the rivalry sharpened between the ruling Golkar Party and the Muslim-oriented United Development Party, the PPP.
While repeatedly calling for calm and fair play, party leaders seemed helpless to prevent their followers from turning on each other and the authorities. On May 20, no less than three clashes broke out in Jakarta, despite a PPP pledge that day to stop campaigning in the capital to avoid further violence.
Frustrated by the security forces' attempts to halt unscheduled marches, thousands assembled along South Jakarta's Warung Buncit thoroughfare and spent hours throwing stones, destroying street signs and setting fires. Police cleared the area with water cannons, tear gas and rubber bullets. "It's as though they learned from television to adopt the style of the intifada," observes Budi Susanto, a Catholic priest and political author.
On the same day in Pekalongan, Central Java, thousands of PPP supporters reportedly attacked a Golkar youth-wing office. Another central Java town, Temanggung, endured more than 10 days of demonstrations, destruction of property and the stabbing of a local PPP leader. In the city of Jogjakarta, another local PPP leader was beaten and his office trashed.
Even at the sparsely attended rallies of the PDI faction led by government-backed chairman Suryadi, violence erupted. Poisonous snakes were thrown on the stage at a PDI rally in Kediri, East Java. Thousands of PDI supporters ran amok in Irian Jaya's capital of Jayapura (see page 18).
"The youngsters cannot be restrained. They don't pay attention to party leaders anymore. They need to go to the streets," says Tugiran Kusumo, a pro-Megawati PDI leader in Semarang, central Java. Eventually, accidents during street convoys claimed more than 70 lives.
Why did the violence escalate? Some PPP activists say anger over perceived unfair treatment by the security forces transformed minor incidents into major irritants. A common example they cite: Motorcycles overloaded with helmet-less PPP supporters were stopped by police, while bareheaded Golkar followers went scot-free.
"If we report Golkar abuses to the authorities, the reaction is less than encouraging. But if one of our kids takes down a Golkar flag, he's immediately arrested," complains Mudrick Setiawan, the PPP chief in Solo, Central Java. Fellow PPP activist Herman Abdurrachman, a Jogjakarta lawyer, says he has proof that the ruling party recruited recidivist criminals to attack his party. For their part, Golkar supporters fault the aggressive tactics of PPP followers, who often became incensed if passersby did not flash the party's thumbs-up sign.
After more than 30 years of efforts to depoliticize Indonesians, the Suharto government is witnessing how quickly apathy can turn into brutality. Many teenagers involved in street protests, says social psychologist Sarlito Sarwono, "come from the lower level of society; many of them are jobless, or they work as servants, coolies or thugs. They don't have any idea of what politics is."