Performance is an integral part of Indonesia's election culture. National elections — from Indonesia's first election in 1955, throughout the New Order, to Reformasi and the present — have always been marked by parades, fairs, and performances, by both performing artists and politicians themselves, as I have discussed elsewhere (Lindsay 2005, 2007). National election campaigns are in many ways one long show, with a clearly marked performance season. Live performance is integral to these campaigns: as an attraction to provide a festive atmosphere and draw crowds to party rallies (just as a family hosting a wedding or circumcision party provides entertainment for guests), as a way for a political party to highlight its endorsement by well-known artists, or to provide an opportunity for political candidates themselves to perform in another voice.

Election Day, too, despite real political tensions or even because of them, is also marked by a sense of play. It is common to find polling booths decorated as for a festive occasion, particularly weddings. Recently a new trend has emerged. At some polling booths, officials dress up in costume (traditional dance costume, for instance) or ceremonial dress (like hosts at a wedding reception), playfully emphasizing the ceremonial performance of voting.

In 2004, the year of national legislative elections and the first direct presidential election (held in two stages), this play aspect was highly evident. The main campaign performance stage, however, shifted to television, which featured celebrities (pop stars, singers, and sinetron artists) debating their political affiliations, and infotainment shows about celebrity choice. In many ways, this was a natural development from the role television began to play in the 1999 elections, when New Order media control suddenly disappeared and television was used in a highly performative way to encourage voter awareness and participation (Lindsay 2002). But the significant new aspect in 2004, particularly for the presidential election, was that voters were for the first time choosing people (and thus candidates, as personalities or celebrities) rather than parties. This fostered a tighter link between popular culture and politics, via the media.

On 12 April 2006 the National Court (Pengadilan Negeri) in the town of Ruteng, capital of Manggarai district, awarded a settlement of over 2 billion rupiah to two pairs of contestants from the 2005 electoral race for regent: Anton Bagul Dagur, who had been the incumbent, and his running mate, Pius Kandar, and Gabriel Thody Wajong and his running mate, Wilhelmus Nanggur. Their claim was that the results of the Manggarai local election for regent (pilkada), were invalid because the election process had been plagued with numerous irregularities; they made their claims both against the KPUD (the Local Electoral Commission), and the winning pair, Christian Rotok and Kamelus Deno, popularly referred to by the acronym “Credo”, a very appealing appellation in the predominantly Catholic district. Although the district-level court awarded these damages, the provincial-level court (“The High Court” — Pengadilan Tinggi), had earlier, in July 2005, dismissed any claims of electoral irregularities. Thus the inauguration of the new regent had taken place in mid-2005. The losing candidates and several civil society organizations had continued to dispute the results, however, and had finally won a positive judgement in regard to their accusations from the local court. This case in Manggarai was one of many examples of accusations of irregularities in the local electoral process across Indonesia, inaugurated in June 2005, when a large percentage of these first district head elections were held (see Pratikno, Chapter 3, this volume). What we find particularly interesting about the Manggaraian election, and the objections over the results that continued for at least a year after the installation of the new head, was that the civil society organizations that disputed the election results along with the incumbent regent from the 1999–2004 period, were the same groups who had been fiercely opposed to that same incumbent when he was in office. What we will argue, then, is that the situation in Manggarai is an interesting case of conflicting ideas about the meaning of democracy, and the role of the electoral process in its growth and consolidation. We suggest that the Manggarai election calls into question what the meaning of “free and fair” actually is in the context of an election.

The first direct elections of local government chiefs in Indonesia, which began with a wave of 159 polls in June 2005, have highlighted the extraordinary complexity of post-Soeharto politics. The fall of the New Order regime in 1998 triggered an unprecedented process of deregulation and decentralization, ending more than three decades of enforced uniformity under Soeharto's rule. As most restrictions on political organization were gradually lifted during the democratic transition, Indonesia's inherent heterogeneity began to express itself in a myriad of diverse political constellations at the grassroots. The introduction of direct local ballots has marked the culmination of this process, with political coalitions, themes, and arrangements unthinkable at the centre turning into everyday reality in the regions.

Despite very specific local contexts, the majority of pilkada held between 2005 and 2008 nevertheless had distinctly Indonesian features. Most importantly, in nearly all of the areas in which elections were held, the existence of the unitary state of Indonesia formed the unquestioned political framework for the elections and their individual candidates. Instead of attracting votes with populist attacks on the centre, the overwhelming majority of candidates pledged their loyalty to the Indonesian state and its institutional structures. Given the post-1998 centrifugal tendencies in territories like Riau, East Kalimantan, North Sulawesi, Maluku, or Bali, this was not necessarily the most expected outcome.

The direct elections in Papua, however, differed from the national trend in several ways.1 Indonesia's easternmost province conducted the ballot for a new governor within the framework of special autonomy, which had been granted in 2001 to address the grievances held by many Papuans over their place in the unitary state. In contrast to most polls across the archipelago that focused on the internal problems of a particular province, district, or municipality, the elections in Papua took place amid protracted political disputes between Papuan politicians and the central government, particularly over the status of the province of West Irian Jaya. Carved out of Papua by successive Jakartan governments, West Irian Jaya had never been endorsed by the Jayapura-based Papuan elite, leading to a legal and political quagmire that ultimately required two separate elections for governor in March 2006.

INTRODUCTION

The 2005 pilkada (pilihan kepala daerah, or local head election) for the positions of bupati (regent) and wakil bupati (deputy regent) in the troubled Indonesian district of Poso were of vital importance for the future stability of the region and the reconciliation processes under way. Given the instrumental role of political and electoral mobilization as one of the features underpinning violence in the post-Soeharto period, there were many fears that the elections could see a return to violence. From a social scientific perspective, the elections were also important as they allow us a snapshot of the status and dynamics of the broad peace that has endured since 2001 despite many incidences of provocation. Using a two-level conceptualization of peace at the elite and the grassroots level, this paper examines how far the pilkada elections are indicative of a move towards a more “positive” peace at the elite and grass-roots level. Examining various formal and informal interventions in the campaigning for the election, we argue that at the elite level, a strong negative peace is in place to prevent a return to conflict, but with little positive engagement to address some of the underlying problems or construct a mutual vision for the future for all groups involved. At the grass-roots level, we argue that voting patterns suggest a similar lack of positive peace at this level and an even weaker form of negative peace.

THEORETICAL FRAMEWORK

Cross-country evidence has shown that democracies are less likely to experience civil war than authoritarian states (Hegre et al. 2001). While democracies may be more likely to channel conflict in peaceful ways, democratizing countries — those in transition, such as Indonesia — are more prone to conflict, and social tensions in these nations are more likely to escalate into violence (Gurr 2000; Gurr 2001; Snyder 2000). In addition, Tilly (2003) argues that regime types themselves will affect the character and nature of collective violence, which is evident in the discussion of the New Order regime below.

INTRODUCTION: WOMEN IN INDONESIAN POLITICS

It is often stated that an important feature for the consolidation of democracy is the inclusion of the marginalized into the decision-making process; one of the marginalized groups often cited is women (Chusnul Mari'yah 2002; Haynes 2001, p. 10). Indeed, in the process of reform that started in Indonesia with the fall of Soeharto in 1998, the inclusion of women has been one of the stated goals. Some women activists argue that “Democracy without the involvement of women is not democracy” (Chusnul Mari'yah 2002, p. 4). A quota of 30 per cent inclusion of women politicians, for both the representatives (DPR) and the local district leaders (bupati), was formulated as a goal in the legislative elections of 2004. Although there was pressure from women's groups to implement this quota, it was in the end decided that it would be encouraged, but not required. Since it was not mandatory, nowhere was a 30 per cent rate of female political participation met, and there has been both passive and active resistance to the wider inclusion of women in politics in Indonesia. In this chapter I want to examine one case of a woman who has made her name in local politics in Indonesia, Rustriningsih, the bupati of Kebumen District in Central Java, and examine what her election has meant to reform and the consolidation of democracy in Indonesia.

Under the New Order there were several women bupati in Indonesia. But as Hana Satriyo notes:

In recent years, the initial enthusiasm for decentralization of political authority to the district level and its “democratizing” impact on entrenched political elites in Indonesia has been replaced by increasingly gloomy evaluations of the country's devolution process. A growing number of both academic and donor accounts now tell the story of how the mode of state power that was established under the authoritarian government of Soeharto continues despite the demise of the New Order regime and the institutional reforms that followed. In other words, despite the introduction of free and fair elections and the devolution of political authority, “old elites” maintained their strategic administrative and political positions at the national, provincial, and local levels (Hadiz and Robison 2004, p. 29). This chapter argues that while “old elites” indeed remain in power, the new institutional environment has reshuffled the cards for political elites. Personal networks at the local level have become more important in winning elections, while large party machines have become a less decisive factor in shaping election outcomes. A more pluralist view than the one stressing continuity above all is thus needed.

INSTITUTIONAL CHANGES IN POST-NEW ORDER INDONESIA

Indonesian politics have been shaped by two main developments since 1998. Firstly, there has been a more democratic spirit in government after forty years of autocratic rule. Secondly, starting with Law No. 22/1999 and Law No. 25/1999, Indonesia embarked on a far-reaching decentralization process of its political institutions that shifted most of the political power to the districts (kabupaten) and municipalities (kotamadya), leaving the centre — and even more so the provinces — with fewer political and economic responsibilities.

Even after the re-centralization attempts of Law No. 32/2004, local governments are still much stronger than prior to 1998. The ambiguous formulation of Law No. 32/2004 resulted in an unclear distribution of responsibilities between levels of government (Atje and Gaduh 2004, p. 9; Jacobsen 2004, p. 384; Kaiser and Hofman 2002, p. 5). At the same time, Law No. 32/2004 drastically cut the oversight power of the local assembly, the Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat Daerah (DPRD), over the local executive. In short, while attempts to reinstate vertical accountability did not successfully materialize, horizontal accountability between the legislative and the executive at the kabupaten level was crippled.

INTRODUCTION

On Saturday 29 April 2005, the city of Tuban, East Java province, was burned. A huge crowd consisting of more than 5,000 supporters of the defeated pilkada candidate went down to the street angry. The crowd destroyed and burned the local electoral commission's (KPUD) office, district government offices and vehicles, and the pilkada winner's property, including two luxury houses, a hotel, eighteen vehicles, and two factories. A state of emergency was declared by the government, and thousands of police officers were mobilized with a licence to shoot disturbers.

This may be an example of what the government feared would be “unsmooth and disorderly” local head elections throughout the country. Since public pessimism over the implementation of the pilkada had been increasing from early on, the Minister of Home Affairs announced the success of pilkada in 2005 in influential mass media across Indonesia on December 2005. “Since June 2005, pilkada has been executed in 198 regions, 92 per cent of them were run in a smooth and orderly manner.” Of course, this used a minimum standard to define a “successful pilkada”.

Theoretically, the direct election of governors, district heads, and mayors is expected to further deepen democracy at the regional level. By this new electoral system, the heads of regions are no longer elected by regional assembly members, but are elected by individual citizens. Instead of taking a role in regional legislatures through their representatives, individual citizens now have direct access to vote for their governor, bupati (district head) or mayor. It will be argued in this chapter, however, that the path toward deepening democracy has not been significantly furthered by these direct elections, because of the electoral and party system which constrains grassroots participation. Nevertheless, it is suggested that voters at the grass-roots level are finding their own way to respond. Whether this response will have a positive effect towards the furthering of the democratic transition in Indonesia will be something to be examined further in the future.

INTRODUCTION

The province of West Kalimantan is one of the most ethnically and religiously heterogeneous provinces in Indonesia. Apart from the Dayaks, Malays, and Chinese, the Madurese is one of the main ethnic groups in West Kalimantan. The Madurese were never a significant migrant group in numerical terms; however, they were highly visible because they lived separately from other ethnic groups, building their own ghettos. It is quite interesting that the 2000 Population Census does not mention “Dayak” as an ethnic category in West Kalimantan. The reason might be because the Dayak people always identify their ethnicity with their “sub-ethnic” groups, such as Iban, Taman, Kanayatn, Mualang, Desa, Ribun, Pesaguan, Simpakng, Jalai, etc. In fact, as an ethnic grouping, “Dayak” is an invented category, created by Dutch anthropologists and colonial administrators during the Dutch colonial period to depict the indigenous people of Borneo who were neither Malay nor Muslim; it was used in the 1930 Population Census. The 2000 Population Census was the first census after the 1930 census which included ethnic categories, but since it did not use the category “Dayak” in the demographic profile of West Kalimantan I refer to the data provided by military sources; in those sources the “Dayaks” count for 41 per cent of the population, while the Malays are 39 per cent, Chinese are 12 per cent, and the rest, labelled “Others” and including Javanese, Madurese, Buginese, make up 8 per cent of the population.

Unlike most provinces in Indonesia, where certain ethnic and religious groups are dominant, there is no single dominant ethnic or religious group in West Kalimantan. The Muslim population counts for 57.62 per cent, followed by Catholics 24.05 per cent, Protestants 9.96 per cent, and Buddhists 6.41 per cent of the population.2 This suggests that although Muslims count for more than half of the total population, they are not the real dominant religious group since the number of non-Muslims is quite substantial.