Jakarta’s
violent identity crisis: behind the vilification of Chinese-Indonesians - Economic success of the
group’s small elite has led to repeated bouts of resentment, discrimination and
even violent assaults
Before Jakarta, there was Batavia, the 17th-century
capital city of the Dutch East Indies, built with the skill of just a few
hundred ethnic Chinese artisans who had settled as traders along the shore.
How little has changed.
Many big projects in modern day Jakarta, a city of more than 10 million,
have been built by developers from the minority group, the descendants of the
original merchants and other Chinese who have arrived since.
Chinese-Indonesians – estimated to make up 1 per cent to 4 per cent of
the country’s 250 million people – have had an impact on Jakarta which is
vastly disproportionate to their physical numbers. The economic success of the
group’s small elite has led to repeated bouts of resentment, discrimination and
even violent assaults.
Governor Basuki Tjahaja Purnam, a Chinese-Indonesian known as Ahok, has
proven that despite a history of political exclusion, high office is also
achievable. He is running for election in February.
Yet a racially charged anti-Ahok protest this month has forced Jakarta
to confront whether the minority has truly been accepted after three sometimes
prosperous – but always uncertain – centuries.
A mini market was raided in a Chinese-Indonesian neighbourhood, bringing
back painful memories of riots in 1998 in which more than 1,000 were killed.
Protesters, many of them hardline Islamists who are unhappy Ahok is both
Chinese-Indonesian and Christian, have promised another rally for next Friday –
and hope to beat their attendance of more than 100,000 people on November 4.
Police say they will block them this time, but observers worry it may further
raise the potential for violence.
Sibarani Sofian, an urban development specialist, says the city has since
been divided into pro and anti-Ahok factions. While he is ethnic Chinese, he
prefers the term Tionghoa, which means “of Chinese descent” and attempts to
avoid assumptions of links to the Chinese state, another prejudice sometimes
thrown at the minority.
There is still considerable
risk today facing Tionghoa [people of Chinese descent] society, although people
already learned the lesson of the ’98 riots
Sibarani Sofian, urban
development specialist
He says the demonstration was the apex of unhappiness among some
Indonesians with Ahok being governor. “I personally think there is still
considerable risk today facing Tionghoa society, although people already
learned the lesson of the ’98 riots,” he added.
When the Dutch ruled Batavia, they granted special concessions to a
handful of Chinese living in the port.
François Valentijn, a Dutch historian, wrote in the 1720s that “if there
were no Chinese here, Batavia would be very dead”. And two decades later, that
situation was almost realised.
In 1740, bitterness from native Indonesians and the Dutch to the growing
wealth of a small portion of Chinese people led to open bigotry against the
minority population, most of whom were extremely poor themselves.
In October that year, Chinese sugar mill workers finally revolted; the
response was a pogrom in which nearly the entire population were killed.
The persecution lasted after Indonesia declared independence from the
Dutch at the end of the second world war. Many were denied citizenship by laws
that labelled Indonesians of Chinese descent who had lived here for generations
as “aliens”. Even the communist party in the 1950s – popular among ethnic
Chinese – would not allow them into its leadership.
Indonesia’s second president and dictator who ruled for three decades,
Suharto, attempted to deal with the “Chinese problem” by forced assimilation
under his New Order government, banning Chinese schools, books and languages.
On the side, though, he copied the Dutch colonisers by making deals with
ethnic Chinese businessmen, providing them with monopoly rights to grow his
economy.
In his book Asian Godfathers, author Joe Studwell said Suharto
had decided he would dole out concessions to “people who would get a job done
and who posed no political challenge to his authority. These individuals tended
to be Chinese immigrants”.
Among the most prominent is Mochtar Riady who founded the Lippo Group, a
conglomerate in real estate, banking, health care and natural resources
reputedly worth more than US$10 billion .
Sudono Salim, once considered the richest person in the country, ran
Salim Group, the world’s largest instant noodle maker; while Eka Tjipta Widjaja
founded Sinar Mas, a conglomerate that owns Asia Pulp & Paper, and works in
120 countries .
Yet Chinese-Indonesians were forced to conceal their identity, with
Chinese-language newspapers banned and Chinese festivals cancelled. While these
tycoons made billions, they kept low public profiles and went by their
Indonesian – not Chinese – names.
They had good reason to be cautious.
Domestic bitterness grew from rumours that Chinese-Indonesians
controlled 70 per cent of the economy, despite no comprehensive research to
back that up. This was further entrenched in a 1995 study by Australia’s
foreign affairs department which said “Sino-Indonesians” controlled 68 per cent
of the top 300 conglomerates.
There are those who are
worried about Chinese-Indonesian businessmen being perceived as being too
pro-China
Charlotte Setijadi,
ISEAS-Yusof Ishak institute
Finally, in May 1998, Suharto’s balancing act backfired. Mobs targeted
Glodok , the historic Chinatown of Jakarta, looting shops and burning
buildings.
They left more than 1,000 dead and an estimated US$300 million of
property damage. Scores of ethnically Chinese women and girls were raped.
Krishna Linarda, a 53-year-old tax consultant, whose grandfather owned a
Chinese-language book shop in Glodok, was there that day. When he heard where
the rioters were heading, he drove to pick up a friend just in time before her
house was burned.
“As I drove to get her, I saw the rioters were flipping cars with their
hands,” he says.
He checked into a hotel where he thought he would be safe but the mob
spread. “I could see them from our room on the fourth floor, breaking into a
music shop and stealing guitars and a keyboard. Some took a set of drums.”
A shop he worked in was also smashed, he later found out. “We opened
again a week later,” he says with a hint of pride. “But after that, the
community built iron gates at the entrance to every alley and a local resident
would keep watch at night.”
Circumstances now are very
different to May ’98 ... Security apparatus is more present and accessible.
And, more importantly, society is now less prone to be provoked by racial
agendas
Christine Susanna Tjhin,
Centre for Strategic and International Studies
Since then, ethnic Chinese have been able to express their heritage
after successive leaders abandoned the assimilation policy. Chinese New Year is
a public holiday and in Glodok, Mandarin and other dialects are spoken openly.
But the iron fences remain, some with fresh spikes added on top.
This year the community is again facing a challenging test, as Ahok is
accused of blasphemy for comments he made about his political enemies
exploiting verses of the Koran. He has been formally named as a suspect, making
it likely that he will face charges and could even be jailed.
This month’s demonstration, which ended in violence with one person dead
, appeared to be backed by his political opponents, interested in halting his
popular rise by exploiting simmering sectarianism.
Indonesia’s Ulama Council, the country’s top Muslim clerical body,
announced a non-Muslim should not become a leader of the capital of the world’s
largest Muslim majority nation. As an outspoken and brash politician, Ahok is
divisive, even among Chinese Indonesians.
His stubbornness in relocating thousands of slum residents along
Jakarta’s dirty river banks has led to an outcry, and many Chinese-Indonesians
worry that negative perceptions of the governor might reflect badly on them.
Linarda, the tax consultant from Glodok, argues it is all just politics
and that the protests “would not have happened if there wasn’t an election”.
“I can say 100 per cent of my Muslim friends don’t agree with the
protesters,” he said, adding that he believes entrenched racial divides are
broadly over in Indonesia.
“My blood is red and my bones are white,” he said, referring to the
colours of the national flag. “Only my eyes are a different shape.”
Christine Susanna Tjhin, from the Centre for Strategic and International
Studies says that while the Ahok phenomenon has “highlighted the sad reality
that scapegoating and stereotyping are still alive and kicking”, she does not
think there are big dangers for Chinese-Indonesians.
“Circumstances now are very different to May ’98. The economy is still
growing and on the right track, with the main focus on infrastructure
development, particularly in previously neglected areas. Politics is
fundamentally still stable despite pre-elections dramas. Security apparatus is
more present and accessible. And, more importantly, society is now less prone
to be provoked by racial agendas.
“The danger that I’m concerned with is less about physical threats, but
more about how [Chinese-Indonesians] fit into the narratives of Indonesian
pluralism. What has happened is that, as Jakarta’s election approaches, race
and religious identity are dominating public debates, rather than issues
related to social justice and good governance.”
Indonesia prides itself on moderately practiced religion and pluralism,
its motto being “unity in diversity”. President Joko Widodo, a close ally of
Ahok’s and the person who handed him the governor’s office when he ran for
president, has sought to quell the recent furore.
After the November 4 protest, he cancelled a long-planned trade trip to
Australia at the last minute so he could attempt to placate political opponents
and religious leaders.
But it’s not just the anti-Ahok movement that is rehashing tired racist
tropes. Old resentments are reappearing as Chinese business takes a growing
interest in Indonesian investments.
Some Chinese-Indonesians are facilitating deals between the two
countries, often through their positions on Indonesian public and private
business associations.
Charlotte Setijadi, a visiting fellow at the ISEAS-Yusof Ishak
institute, has been researching how the shared ethnicity between a small elite
of Chinese Indonesians has allowed them to assume a “bridging” role.
“Some also have personal networks and reputations as businessmen so they
get asked for investment advice by both Chinese government officials and
businesses,” she said.
“The majority of the time, they
do not engage in the business deals themselves, but they get asked for advice
or introductions to the relevant potential local partners and businesses.”
Chinese money is still not flowing into Indonesia as some would like.
While on paper the number of China’s investments is growing, less than 10 per
cent actually go ahead.
Many people are uncomfortable
being associated with Beijing, as if we have our nationalism questioned
Evi Sofian, Jakarta Post
Regardless, the perception of close ties has created tension. The
association of Chinese-Indonesians with a foreign country, especially one that
has been a sometimes overwhelming power in the region, has often been used to reinforce
suspicion from some native Indonesians, or pribumi, of outside
interference.
“Even among the ethnic Chinese business community, there are those who
are worried about Chinese-Indonesian businessmen being perceived as being too
pro-China,” Setijadi said.
“So this is a complex and ongoing issue, and reflects the persistent
undercurrent of suspicion towards Chinese-Indonesians, as well as their
perceived belonging and economic dominance.”
There are frequent attacks in the media by various right-wing and
Islamist pribumi groups that accuse Chinese-Indonesian businessmen and
politicians of being China’s puppets.
Evi Sofian, an editor and journalist with the English-language Jakarta
Post, is Chinese-Indonesian but has not been able to trace how long her
family has been in the country.
“Many people are uncomfortable being associated with Beijing, as if we
have our nationalism questioned,” she said. “Most Chinese-Indonesians do not
speak Mandarin and cannot read Chinese letters. I am sure we are as blind as
any Indonesian when it comes to Chinese culture.”
SCMP
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