The government's plan to build Indonesia's first nuclear power plant, tentatively set to begin 2011, is moving forward with the public given little or no chance to have its say. Going nuclear, with all its implications, including in particularly the issue of public safety, is a very serious business and any decision should first be put to the people, for an extensive public debate or a referendum.

Yet, the story of Indonesia going nuclear smacks of a conspiracy by the state. The public has been consistently excluded or sidelined from virtually the entire decision-making process.

As it stands at the moment, the government has decided to build a 4,000 megawatt nuclear plant near Mt. Muria in Central Java, targeting 2011 for the start of construction and 2018 for the beginning of operation. The government is currently shopping around for the most suitable technology, while also working on the regulations and safety aspects, in order to ensure compliance with global standards.

An international conference is being planned for April, aptly titled INDONUCLEAR 2007 – Nuclear Energy For Peace and Welfare, as part of the official campaign to solicit public support for the project.

One can't avoid the impression that going nuclear for Indonesia is a done deal. Even the decisions on the dates and location are already being made. It now boils down to which technology to use and which contractor to employ.

But not so fast. First we should take a look at the flawed manner in which the Nuclear Energy Law, the basis for all decisions related to going nuclear, was enacted in 1997.

In the early 1990s, there was a heated debate about whether or not Indonesia should go nuclear. Public sentiment then, still colored by the nuclear accident in Chernobyl, Ukraine, was heavily against acquiring nuclear power.

But the government of then president Soeharto slipped a bill into the legislative agenda in 1997. That being an election year, most members of the House of Representatives were in no mood to oppose the government, fearing they would not be returned to their cozy parliamentary seats by the all-powerful Soeharto. One press clipping from those days reported that when the House eventually endorsed the bill on nuclear energy, only 65 representatives remained in the plenary hall, far short of the necessary quorum.

Yet, the law not only has survived several regime changes as democracy has taken root, but it has been picked up and turned into policy by subsequent democratically elected presidents. President Abdurrahman Wahid, who led the anti-nuclear campaign in the 1990s, signed the ancillary regulations to the 1997 law in 2000. President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono included nuclear reactors among the future sources of electricity in his 2005 National Energy policy blueprint. In December, the government introduced regulations on the licensing regime for nuclear reactors.

It is even sadder to note that all of this is going on right under our nose. Indonesia's nuclear plan is going ahead with little public opposition. The Indonesian Forum for the Environment (Walhi) has led practically a lone campaign opposing the planned construction of the nuclear reactor. For some unexplained reason, the campaign has drawn little public attention, let alone support. Our silence effectively makes us part of the conspiracy.

Going nuclear is such a major step for any nation that the public should be included in the decision-making process. The flaws in the way the 1997 law on nuclear energy was enacted, as well as the absence of extensive public debate, should be sufficient grounds to have the law repealed. That's what the Constitutional Court is for.

If the country is going to turn to nuclear energy, we may as well do it right from the beginning. A strong law, one that has gone through the public scrutiny, is what Indonesia needs. The last thing we want is to add nuclear accidents to the long list of devastating man-made and natural disasters that seem to haunt this nation. And we owe this not only to ourselves, but to our children and grandchildren, who would be left to clean up the mess in the event of a nuclear accident.