Matthew Draper – Political elites who sit on a low-profile committee of Indonesia's highest legislative body, the People's Consultative Assembly (MPR), are jeopardizing the nation's attempts at constitutional reform. The efforts of PAH I, the secretive group charged with drafting amendments to the constitution, a number of which will be considered this week, could have long-lasting implications for the health of Indonesia's fledgling democracy. Indeed the upcoming debate could prove more crucial than last week's struggle over the political future of embattled President Abdurrahman Wahid. This year's drafting of amendments leaves little room for optimism. PAH I has met behind locked doors; its members have made little or no effort to either educate or engage the Indonesian public. For example, when the Strategic Alliance, a non-partisan team of academics and legal experts organized by the Indonesian Institute of Science, invited PAH I to a conference on constitutional reform, only two members bothered to show up.
With the exception of draft proposals released in June, followed by final proposals in July, there has been no other attempt by the lawmakers at transparency. The assembly's different political factions appear to be cutting back-room deals on the new constitution.
No doubt, Indonesia's search for constitutionalism is likely to be a slow and arduous process. One of the most distinguishing characteristics of the Suharto regime was its disregard for the country's 1945 Constitution and the rule of law. With the exception of Suharto himself, virtually all of the bureaucrats and generals that thrived under his rule remain in positions of power. In the MPR and government – the two institutions from which any substantial movement for constitutional reform is likely to come – many lawmakers and bureaucrats are committed to maintaining their influence and prestige.
But today's political elite is not driven simply by self-interest, or by a failure to understand its role in building a democracy. There are several issues lying just below the surface of Indonesia's political and constitutional history which the old regime is trying its best to keep out of democratic forums.
First and foremost, many lawmakers want to avoid reopening controversies allegedly "solved" by the preamble of the 1945 Constitution, which enshrined the limited role of Islam in public life and a declaration that Indonesia is a "unified state." Many fear calls for the adoption of Syrariah law from Islamic groups like the Mujahiddin would lead to an Islamic state. North Sulawesi, which is predominantly Christian, has already said it would secede if such a change were made. Similarly, if constitutional reform were used as a chance to reconsider all aspects of national life, then people of rebellious provinces like Aceh and West Papua would also insist on a say in its drafting.
Second, many legislators and government officials want the role of the military kept out of public debate. Despite near universal agreement among Indonesians that the military must be reformed and stripped of its political role, the security forces look set to emerge from the current assembly session with their status enhanced. Separately, Mr. Wahid appears ready to quietly put his imprint on the "State of Emergency" law, apparently hoping to avoid a repeat of the massive protests and student deaths that occurred last year when the emergency law was passed by the parliament.
Less controversial are proposed human rights amendments reminiscent of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. One proposal, for example, loftily calls for justice, but provides little in the way of enforcement. As currently written, the proposals allow the government to escape its responsibilities all too easily. Political rights, including guarantees of freedom of the press, speech, association and privacy, are altogether missing from the draft amendments.
Given the poverty, corruption, and ethnic and sectarian conflict tearing at their society, the drafters of Indonesia's constitution may be excused for making national stability a priority. But the rule of law with public consent is essential for that stability. PAH I's secrecy may make it easier for the parliament to reach a consensus on some important issues, but it won't in the long run help resolve the nation's key constitutional problems.
Indonesian leaders would be wise to look to the experiences of other nations that have made the transition from feudalism to constitutional democracy. Thailand, for example, adopted a new constitution in 1997 that is widely hailed as providing both ideals and mechanisms for ensuring respect for human rights, public participation in government and a limited role for the military. But Thailand's success came after three years of hard work, during which draft proposals were considered by independent commissions and a constitutional drafting assembly consisting of indirectly elected provincial representatives and legal experts.
Will PAH I continue to exclude the Indonesia people from debate about their constitution and rule of law? Will the Indonesian people demand greater participation in the process? Thailand's experience with public hearings to discuss proposed constitutional amendments remains a model. To be successful, a drafting commission must be charged with drafting a comprehensive set of changes on all issues, not just the ones the political parties cannot agree upon. Only if Indonesia's civil society is genuinely engaged will its people accept the drafting process as fair and consider the constitution a piece of paper worth respecting and defending.
[Matthew Draper, a student at Columbia Law School, is researching constitutional reform at the National Law Reform Consortium, a Jakarta-based non-governmental organization.]