The progression in Indonesia has been inexorable: economic hard times, then social unrest, heightened political dissent and, finally, official repression. As impassioned student demonstrations have spread across the country's campuses, nearly 400 activists have been arrested since January. But as disturbing as these detentions are to the Suharto regime's critics, a much more ominous trend is emerging. According to the Indonesian Legal Aid Foundation (YLBHI), at least 12 activists have disappeared altogether since January; six of them dropped out of sight after a demonstration in Yogyakarta on April 3. Faisal Rezha was last seen on March 12, when a group of men bundled him into an unmarked Toyota in Central Jakarta. Pleads his mother, Ma'rufah: "If my child has done something wrong, I'm willing for him to be punished. But don't play hide-and-seek like this." Faisal disappeared with Herman Hendrawan, whose elder brother shares the anguish of not knowing what has happened: "If my brother is already dead, please tell us where he is buried."

Both pleas are addressed to the government--as obvious a suspect as the Latin American dictatorships accused of similar "disappearances" in the 1970s. Bonar Tigor, director of the Indonesian Society for Humanity, a group that tries to locate and gain the release of missing persons, contends that the latest abductions bear the imprint of the Indonesian Army. Witnesses say that although the captors wear no uniforms, they wield guns, which are forbidden to anyone except troops and police. "The kidnappings are carried out by the military with civilian thugs," Bonar asserts. The charge is just as strongly denied by the government and military. But critics insist authorities have given, in effect, tacit approval to the crackdown. "The government has a responsibility to prevent such practices, but there's no evidence that it's doing that," notes Kerry Brogan, a researcher with Amnesty International in London, "which suggests that the government doesn't mind."

The political ties of those who are missing suggest that the abductions have a common purpose. At least five of the "disappeared" are linked to the outlawed Democratic People's Party (PRD), a left-wing faction that has championed the rights of workers and ethnic minorities. In 1996 authorities accused PRD members of masterminding riots that struck Jakarta after the government-backed ouster of opposition icon Megawati Sukarnoputri from the leadership of the Indonesian Democratic Party. The PRD has also been accused of involvement in bomb plots, and nine of its leaders are serving jail time for subversion.

Victor da Costa can imagine their possible fate. The PRD member was arrested shortly after the July 1996 riots and spent two years behind bars. Before trial, he says, he was interrogated non-stop for 72 hours, after which he was allowed one hour of sleep per day. Another recently released activist still scans the room nervously when recalling his months of disappearance. "I couldn't tell the difference between day and night," he says, drawing tightly on a clove cigarette. During the first days he was repeatedly beaten and electrodes were applied to every part of his body. "In there I vowed that this had to be stopped," he declares.

Chillingly, however, most observers predict just the opposite. "As the level of unrest increases, we expect that the level of repression will also increase," says Amnesty International's Brogan. That could be the hardest part of Indonesia's hard times.

By Nisid Hajari. Reported by David Liebhold/Jakarta