Endy M. Bayuni, Jakarta – You have to be either Javanese or a really desperate person, or both, to believe that this year's eighth anniversary of the downfall of Soeharto and his regime is worth commemorating differently from previous years.

This Sunday, the nation marks the first windu (eight years) since that fateful day when Indonesia's long-time strongman finally buckled under pressure in the face of a massive student-led people's power movement. His decision to call it a day, after more than 32 years in power, paved the way for democratic reforms that would supposedly bring this nation greater prosperity and peace.

Fast-forward eight years, and we are a long way from either state, although we can boast that we have had a series of democratic, free and fair elections.

Windu is an Indonesian word originating from Javanese. It denotes a period of eight years, as opposed to dasa of Sanskrit origin, meaning a decade. Why we have this term in our daily lexicon is no mystery at all. The Javanese believe – or live – in eight-year cycles. They have a name for each year in the cycle, in the same way that an animal has been assigned to each year of the 12-year Chinese calender. Therefore, this year's eighth anniversary to mark the beginning of a new phase in Indonesia's history is being popularly touted by the Indonesian-language media as "Sewindu Reformasi", literally the first eight years of the reform movement. This is, after all, a nation dominated by the Javanese and their culture, and the editors of this English-language newspaper have had a hard time explaining to our non-Indonesian readers why this year should be different from any other.

But do Indonesians really believe that 2006 is different from previous years? Are we celebrating Sewindu because we truly believe in this eight-year cycle, or simply because we have a word for it? If you are not Javanese, and have followed Indonesia's progress over the past windu you are likely to be perplexed by arguments that this year is somehow different from the others. Especially, when it seems little has progressed since the dawn of reformasi – and there is a good argument that says things have gotten worse.

Each year, around this time, when we mark one of the major turning points in our national history, we ask the same questions, and every time, without failing, we get the same unsatisfactory answers.

• What happened to the perpetrators of all the human rights violations during that 32 years? Will they ever be tried?
• What happened to the perpetrators of corruption? Will they ever go to jail? Will they ever return the trillions they looted?
• Who killed the Trisakti University students in May 1998? Who were behind the massive riots in Jakarta that same month, and the anti-Chinese attacks and rapes that followed?

These and many other questions about the evil deeds committed during Soeharto's 32-year rule, as well as the more specific questions about the tragic events of May 1998, have never been dealt with satisfactorily. This raises serious questions about justice in this country and, therefore, the direction of the reforms.

That we have not been able to answer these questions satisfactorily is making a mockery of our status as an emerging democracy. What is the point of having free and fair elections when the state still cannot dispense justice? Rubbing salt on this unhealed wound, the government last week dropped US$550 million worth of corruption charges against Soeharto. That low figure in itself is laughable, but the timing of the government's decision could not have been worse.

If anybody is really celebrating "Sewindu Reformasi" this week, it will probably be Soeharto (a man steeped in Javanese tradition), his corrupt children and his cronies. They are now officially off the hook.

For what it is worth, we should still commemorate the event although not necessarily in a way any different from past years. It should at least remind us that we have a long way to go to attain the ideals of the reform movement, a movement for which many of our young people gave their blood, sweat and tears. Let's bow our heads to them.