Sadanand Dhume and Dini Djalal, Jakarta – In most democracies, a president who has lost the confidence of parliament, the army and the business community would be expected to slink away quietly. Not in Indonesia, where President Abdurrahman Wahid continues to cling to office.
And though Wahid's putative successor, Vice-President Megawati Sukarnoputri, has inched one step closer to the presidency, it may be only to see it slip between her fingers for the second time in less than two years. One month ago she looked to be a sure bet to take over the presidency. Now, political pressures and personal reluctance may force her to accept a consolation prize instead: an arrangement whereby she takes over the day-to-day running of the country while Wahid retains a largely ceremonial role as head of state.
"It is too early to write Wahid off," says a cabinet minister. "But he will be truncated, yes. He will be confined, yes." The only winner so far appears to be the army, which has enhanced its reputation by staying above the fray and by refusing to endorse Wahid's impulsive calls for a civil emergency. The loser: Indonesia's young and fragile democracy and any hopes of better governance.
In the longer term, the discredited Golkar party, associated with former President Suharto, may well benefit as its opponents waste political capital on each other.
As the Review went to press on May 30, Indonesia's legislature was taking the penultimate step in its arduous months-long battle to impeach President Wahid. Amidst heated debate and protest by the president's supporters in parliament, legislators prepared to recommend a special session of the country's highest legislative body, the 700-member People's Consultative Assembly, or MPR. The session would address criticism of the president's "performance, attitude and policies," in the words of parliament's speaker and key power broker, Akbar Tanjung of Golkar.
But whether the MPR will use the opportunity to impeach the president is an entirely different matter. "The MPR is not always about impeachment," Tanjung told the Review. "We can find a solution through the special session." Tanjung says it will take another 60 days to prepare for that session.
In the meantime, it appears likely that Wahid's brinkmanship and Megawati's innate caution will result in a compromise that may defuse the immediate crisis, but will do nothing to provide sorely needed effective governance. The new arrangement will require an awkward rejigging of government machinery. It may also require a constitutional amendment.
Meanwhile, there's no guarantee that Wahid, though gagged and bound by an MPR decree, won't be able to pull off a Houdini-like escape and re-stake his claim to power, or at least make more trouble. Any hint of continued political uncertainty would likely keep investors away.
Kusnanto Anggoro, a political analyst at Jakarta's Centre for Strategic and International Studies, calls this political uncertainty a state of "permanent transition." At the heart of the problem is Wahid. The 60-year-old cleric took office 19 months ago hailed as a reformer and a democrat. But faced with the possible loss of power, he has grown both imperious and reckless – threatening to impose a civil emergency and declaring that six Indonesian provinces would secede if he were to lose the presidency. His plans have been flatly rejected by the army and by his own cabinet. According to the cabinet minister, who was present at the meeting, not one minister supported a Wahid proposal to declare a state of emergency on May 28.
"Wahid has lost his popularity, credibility and legitimacy," says J. Soedjati Djiwandono, a political analyst with Jakarta's Research for Peace and Democracy, a think-tank. "He's a lonely man now." Wahid is also stubborn. And in Indonesia's game of political poker, where participants play cautiously and survival matters more than principle, the president is not entirely without cards. He retains the ability to incite violence among some of his fanatical supporters in the Nahdlatul Ulama, a grassroots Muslim organization that is particularly strong in East Java. He can also count on the support of those religious minorities grateful for his firmly secular views and fearful that political chaos will allow more radical Muslims a foot in the door.
Lastly, though Wahid may be playing with a weak hand, most pundits say he's also playing against a weak opponent, famous for her ineptness at cutting political deals. In 1999, Megawati Sukarnoputri had to settle for the vice-presidency despite controlling three times as many seats in parliament as Wahid.
She may not do much better this time. Said to be haunted by the legacy of her father President Sukarno's loss of power to Suharto in 1965, Megawati has refused to speed up Wahid's impeachment process – signalling that to her sticking to the constitution is more important than claiming the presidency.
The famously taciturn Megawati has thus far communicated through her aides that she considers the power-sharing offer vague and unconstitutional.
But her final choice will not be easy to make. On the one hand, if she fails to grasp the presidency now she risks becoming an also-ran, the Al Gore of Indonesian politics. Djiwandono points out that in the next election, scheduled for 2004, Megawati will not be able to run as an anti-incumbent or as "a symbol of victimization." Megawati also has genuine political compulsions that make her wary of a permanent rift with Wahid. She can't afford to alienate the Nahdlatul Ulama or Wahid's supporters in East and Central Java for fear that it would weaken the popularity of her Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle, or PDI-P, and encourage sectarianism. "Our natural alliance is with the NU. If they become upset with us, it will take a long time to heal the relationship and the nationalist movement will lose power," says a PDI-P cadre who is against impeachment.
The legislators' anxieties have already been justified. On May 28 and 29 NU supporters attacked the PDI-P's offices in East Java and burned down two churches.
PDI-P legislators admit that the party is split. Of the three factions, one wants Wahid impeached, another wants the power-sharing proposal accepted now, while yet another will agree to a deal as long as it doesn't allow Wahid room to renege, like he did on a similar promise made last August. "Who will guarantee that the president will respect his decision?" asks PDI-P MP Mochtar Buchori.
Pramono Anung, an influential PDI-P legislator, says that differences of opinion in his party are a sign of democracy and it will stand by whatever Megawati decides. But he is careful to characterize the conflict as one "between the president and parliament, not between the president and the vice-president." Finally, Megawati may decide to compromise because she doesn't want to be held accountable for a persistent economic slump and political instability.
That may spell the end of her political career. According to Harold Crouch, director of the International Crisis Group's Indonesia office, Megawati would prefer that Wahid hand over all power to her rather than the presidency itself. "If he is kicked out, she may be vulnerable to parliament herself," says Crouch, a veteran observer of Indonesian politics.
Kusnanto of CSIS agrees. "Mega distrusts other parties," he says. "She is afraid that they will go after her next." According to the cabinet minister, parliamentarians are already considering a deal between Wahid and Megawati in which Wahid agrees to hand over power to her. Under this proposal, Megawati will function as a "chief administrator." Unlike earlier attempts at power-sharing, he says, Megawati will only accept the deal if it is sanctioned by the MPR.
Crouch of the ICG points out that in Indonesia such an arrangement would be constitutional because there is no power of judicial review vested in the Supreme Court. Ultimate authority lies with the MPR, which is the body that elects the president and holds him accountable.
Amid the intrigue and infighting, the army emerges triumphant. By refusing to carry out Wahid's orders to impose an emergency, it has managed to claim the moral high ground while at the same time demonstrating that it remains a political force in Indonesia. While nobody expects a military coup, the army's cohesion and organization in the face of recent instability will ensure that it is able to beat back challenges to its authority from politicians.
"The military is unlikely to take direct power," says Djiwandono. "But its role is strengthened by chaos." Other possible beneficiaries of the political bickering are Tanjung and his Golkar party, which has been tarnished by its association with former President Suharto. Tanjung, says the cabinet minister, has learnt from the process of transition in former communist countries. "He can gain the most benefit by playing a waiting game only to emerge later and say 'I told you so.'"