Taufik Darusman – Sometime in mid-1998, in the aftermath of the fall of the Suharto regime, a number of kidnapped antigovernment activists suddenly found themselves freed as they were dropped off on the streets of Jakarta by their captors.
They would later describe their lengthy abduction experience to the media, recounting that they had been held in captivity for months in several newly constructed cells in the capital and that they were always blindfolded whenever they faced interrogation and torture.
At the time, they said, they had no clue as to who their "host" was until one of them by chance saw the wrapper of their take-away food. It was from a small eatery in Cijantung, East Jakarta, close to the headquarters of the Indonesian Army's Special Forces, or Kopassus.
Putting this together with other tell-tale signs from inside the huge Kopassus complex, including demolished small buildings that housed the cells, and one thing led to another. Eventually, several Kopassus officers and personnel were arrested, court-martialed and put behind bars.
All in all, 22 pro-democracy activists disappeared during the turbulent 1997-98 period, which was marked by student demonstratinos across the nation and violent riots in major cities, culminating in Suharto's resignation in May 1998. Nine of them were later released and gave accounts of torture at the hands of the military, but 13 remain missing.
When Kopassus marked its 58th anniversary last week, its commander, Maj. Gen. Lodewijk Paulus, called on the public to forget the Special Forces' sordid past, as it was "a psychological burden" for the soldiers.
Admittedly, the unit is undergoing a thorough reform, with any soldiers found guilty of committing rights violations now subject to a military tribunal and civilian prosecution. It is also a fact, however, that this policy is not retroactive.
The unit is now banned from receiving US military education or training, with Washington saying it will only lift the ban if the government prosecutes those allegedly involved in past abuses.
Papang Hidayat, head of research and development at the Commission for Missing Persons and Victims of Violence (Kontras), lambasted the unit's attitude toward the alleged crimes, saying it "has never been subjected to real justice."
Were the unit to face "real justice," many of its past leaders now active in politics would likely be implicated.
Given the sensitivity of the matter, one would think Kopassus would just lay low for a while and go about being what it is; the country's best-trained military unit.
Kopassus has always been at the forefront in defending the country's sovereignty by fighting armed insurgencies in Aceh and Papua, and it gained national prominence in 1981 when it foiled a Garuda Indonesia aircraft hijacking by Muslim extremists in Bangkok.
On a non-military level, it staged a remarkable public relations stunt when several of its personnel became the only Indonesians to have reached the summit of Mount Everest.
However, ever since its involvement in the abductions of antigovernment activists and the subsequent arrests of several of its members, Kopassus has been on a downward slide. So much so that when terrorist attacks within the country reached new heights, the government set up a new unit under the National Police, Densus 88, instead of calling on Kopassus to deal with the problem.
Given the intense interforces rivalry that prevails in this country, one can imagine Kopassus leaders smarting in their offices as Densus 88 earned the kudos for doing a fine job in what was once the domain of a military unit.
In what appears to be a bid to regain its past primacy on terrorism matters, Paulus and several high-ranking officers recently visited Washington to seek the lifting of the aforementioned US ban, which could provide an entry point for Kopassus to stage a comeback.
Their visit left Washington with a tricky decision to make. Though the United States would like to assist Indonesian forces in combating terrorism, how can it lift the ban after it denied a visa to the deputy minister of defense, Sjafrie Sjamsuddin, in November, remembering that not only is Sjafrie Kopassus-trained, but that he was also Jakarta Military commander when the activists disappeared and the bloody riots took place in the city?
Though the parents of the 13 missing activists have not seen justice done, they can take some consolation in the fact that many have not yet forgotten the deaths of their loved ones.
[Taufik Darusman is a veteran Jakarta-based journalist.]