The Indonesian public’s
perception of both Brazil and Australia has reached a nadir. In an
unprecedented move, Brazilian President Dilma Rousseff decided to postpone
accepting the credentials of the Indonesian ambassador-designate while having
invited him to the palace for his first audience.
To add fuel to Indonesia’s
patriotic fire, the Australian prime minister tactlessly reminded Jakarta of
Canberra’s generous tsunami aid to Aceh, which didn’t strike the right note,
either. Yet, amid our righteous anger, something doesn’t smell right.
A regular contributor in
Kompasiana, Indonesia’s forum for citizen journalism, wrote “the maneuvers by
both Brazilian President Dilma Rousseff and Australian PM Tony Abbott were
meant to bully President Joko Widodo as a newcomer to international politics.”
“They know that Joko has
humble beginnings; they know Joko was not born into Indonesia’s political
elite.”
Written by a by no means
uneducated Indonesian, the views, regrettably, reflect the level of ignorance
generated by our largely self-imposed isolation in relation with the outside
world.
This in turn has led
us to become insular, in the sense we largely fail to view events in the proper
perspective.
Firstly, it is hardly
normal practice for international statesmen and women to bully new leaders into
submission, in what sounds like a feudal court intrigue to establish a pecking
order.
The theory admittedly
may be true for Indonesia’s own domestic politics.
The initial
difficulties Joko faced in building a legislative coalition to support his
government definitely suggest as much. The practice of “perploncoan,”
in which newcomers are humiliated into submission, is common in the military,
police and civil service academies.
Further, the idea that
the leader of a nation can be insulted because of his or her humble beginnings
better reflects Indonesia’s own social conditions than those of the international
diplomatic community.
Tony Abbott, for one,
can hardly be accused of looking down on Joko’s being the son of a carpenter.
In fact, the Australian prime minister was descended from a carpenter himself:
Abbott’s
maternal grandfather Anthony Bredschneijder Peters was one by trade.
maternal grandfather Anthony Bredschneijder Peters was one by trade.
The obsessive
curiosity about a leader’s lineage is also more Indonesian than Australian.
It is highly doubtful
many Australians even know what Tony Abbott’s father did for a living. By
contrast, most Indonesians are familiar with such details concerning Joko.
The mere fact that
many Indonesians project our own values and standards onto foreigners and then
judge them negatively suggests our own lack of international awareness.
Instead of making the
effort to study the cultures and traditions of our neighbors, we expect them to
study ours and respect our sensibilities, while we continue to wallow in our
own self-centeredness.
In the current death
penalty spat, Australia, being a Western country, is an easy target for our
pseudo- and ultra-nationalists.
Today’s nationalists,
surprisingly, still adhere to what state propagandists under President Sukarno
preached: that we are the victims of global Western neocolonialism.
Much of our isolation
in awareness from the rest of the world stems from this almost fundamentalist
belief that the West seeks to recolonize us. The supposedly arrogant attitude
of the Australian prime minister in demanding exemptions from our laws for drug
smugglers who happen to be Australians is inevitably seen in this light.
However, as chance
would have it, Brazil, the next challenger to our judicial sovereignty, is not
exactly a First-World nation. A developing country like Indonesia, Brazil was
also once a Western colony.
Despite what Joko said
during his presidential campaign, it’s not true that Indonesians lack
confidence when dealing with foreigners.
Most of the time, we
are so insular that we are ignorant of our own identity. The recent protests
outside the Malaysian Embassy, denouncing Malaysia’s alleged attempt to claim
“Lumpia Semarang” or the Semarang spring rolls as its own, are as misguided as
they are embarrassing.
Though synonymous with
the city of Semarang for us Indonesians, spring rolls are Chinese in origin,
first introduced by Chinese immigrants.
It is perhaps
fortunate that the Chinese government hasn’t decided to contest our naming it
as Indonesian heritage food.
Our insularity is also
evident when our citizens live abroad. Generally speaking, Indonesian
expatriates tend to associate with fellow Indonesians. As a result, Indonesian
expatriate communities across the globe are largely invisible as far as their
hosts are concerned.
What we forget is that
a vigorous Indonesian diaspora community can only raise Indonesia’s own profile
abroad.
By comparison, last
year’s vibrant receptions of Prime Minister Narendra Modi by the Indian
diaspora in both the United States and Australia were an unmistakable tour
de force for Indian soft power in the West.
Our insular mentality
can only be harmful to our own interests as a nation. Our rigid stance on the
death penalty for drug traffickers has already embroiled us in unnecessary
bickering with partners such as Brazil and Australia.
Letting a narrow view
of nationalism guide our foreign policy is like opening Pandora’s box; we can
never predict what sort of quagmire we may end up in.
Johannes Nugroho is a
writer from Surabaya. He can be contacted at johannes@nonacris.com.
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