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The politics of authoritarianism: the state and political soldiers in burma, indonesia, and thailand by Chao-Tzang Yawnghwe M. A., University of British Columbia, 1990 B. A., University of Rangoon, 1961


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The Sukarno-Nasution Alliance: The Establishment of the Guided Democracy State
Despite Sukarno’s charisma and symbolic standing, he did not, as noted, exercise power directly in the first post-independence years. He stood "above politics" as President and supreme leader. His relations with other power-players, as with Field Marshal Pibul’s in Thailand, rested on his ability to play off party and military factions against one another. Though Sukarno’s relationship with the military was difficult at times, he managed to prevent the armed forces from capturing the state or monopoliz-ing the political sphere until he fell from power in 1965-67.
Sukarno’s turn towards direct personal rule did not really represent a new direction for him. He often expressed disillusionment with "Western democracy" and parliamentary politics. As David Reeve notes, he had always favoured the notions of "Indonesian democracy" and "democracy with leadership" that early nationalist thinkers had advanced. These revolved around governance and decision-making strategies that would represent "functional" groups, not through open party competition, but by musyawarah and mufakat (consultation and consensus).341 He felt the system of parliamentary politics and governance had been imposed on him by political parties and rivals;342 he resented his role as "a maker of speeches, a host at official receptions, and a man to whom ambassadors presented their credentials."343 Nor should it be forgotten that Sukarno was, at least for rhetorical purposes, a pseudo-revolutionary Marxist, as his NASAKOM formula (Nationalism, Religion, and Communism) attested.344 His "revolutionary" leftist orientation drew him into a closer relationship with the PKI, with the latter becoming, over time, the second pillar of the Guided Democracy state.345
The military, of course, shared Sukarno’s distaste for politicians. As Sukarno moved away from supporting parliamentary politics, the military began to assert its own anti-democratic views more forcefully. Nasution, for example, blamed disorder, instability, and the ongoing regional revolts on "cow-trading" politics. He rejected the "Western European model" and proclaimed that soldiers would not become the "dead tools" of government. He also reiterated his "Middle Way" doctrine, stressing the military’s right to participate in policymaking at the highest level, in such areas as state finance, economic planning, and representation in the "more Indonesian" political order that both Sukarno and Nasution were pushing for.346
Despite the antipathy and mutual suspicion between these two leading figures, then – and despite the ideological distance between the leftist "revolutionary" and the staunch anti-communist – their strategic goals converged. Ironically, as noted, it was a crisis within the military, the regional revolts, which strengthened the duo’s position politically. The revolts gave Sukarno grounds to extend martial law throughout Indonesia in 1957, which in turn extended the military’s influence in the civil administration. The PKI made its own inadvertent contribution to the military’s growing strength when its trade unions seized control of Dutch estates and firms in late 1957. It ended up being forced to hand them over to the military to be run as state enterprises. In this fashion, soldiers gained an important economic base within the state, which they used to recruit supporters from a pivotal economic sector – the labour force of the state enterprises.
The kind of state-society order that Sukarno desired was outlined in his Kon-sepsi formula. He envisioned supreme power as lying in a "servant-leader" who embodied the people’s aspirations.347 Below him would be a cabinet of gotong-royong (mutual assistance) in which all parties would be represented, including the PKI. A National Council of functional groups would represent workers, peasants, intellectuals, women, and adherents of religious faiths (Muslim, Protestant, and Catholic).348
In May 1959, the Constituent Assembly – elected in 1956 and composed of party politicians – rejected Konsepsi and Sukarno’s call for a return to the 1945 Con-stitution. Nasution, now Chairman of the Supreme War Authority and in full control of the military, banned all political activity and urged Sukarno to adopt the 1945 Constitution by presidential decree.349 In early 1960 did exactly that. He dissolved the Constituent Assembly and brought the era of parliamentary rule to a close.350
This analysis of the roots of the Guided Democracy state testifies to a fund-amental shift in the prevailing mode of interaction between state and society. Intermediary institutions, those that stand between the state and society, hitherto had not been directly controlled by state officials. Now they were remodelled and replaced by institutions and bodies directly linked to state officials or key power-holders, and subject to their control. Thus was established a state-centric configuration that boosted the state’s autonomy from society, but also made it less insulated and autonomous from dominant social actors, which lends support to the observation made in the theoretical framework with respect to the reorganization of power in non-democratic or authoritarian orders.
The reorganization of power in this instance was achieved by Sukarno in what might be described as a "presidential coup". On the face of it, this would seem to disprove the argument that military intervention and the authoritarian reorganization of power are different sides of the same coin. But since Sukarno and Nasution, shared a common goal, and since it was Nasution that actually initiated the move towards authoritarian rule by banning all political activity and calling from adoption of the 1945 Constitution by presidential decree, the argument might provisionally be allowed to stand. The events of 1959-60 might best be seen as an indirect intervention by the military in Indonesian politics.


Guided Democracy Politics, 1960-1965: Sukarno, the Military, and the PKI
In the Guided Democracy order, although dominant, the military was kept in check by Sukarno, who was a master at political manipulation. In 1960, for example, he separated Nasution from his power base, the key Siliwangi Division,351 replacing him with Ibrahim Adjie, a Sukarnoist whose morals Nasution disdained. He appointed Nasution’s old foe, Hidajat, as deputy Defence Minister. He successfully exploited inter-service and personal rivalries (for example, those between Nasution and Air Force General Suryadama, and later Omar Dhani).352 And he reduced the power of the Defence Ministry to that of an administrative centre, rather than the command-and-control apparatus envisioned by Nasution.

In June 1962, Sukarno kicked Nasution upstairs, appointing him Chief of Staff and forcing him to turn over the post of Army chief to Ahmad Yani. The latter was, according to Harold Crouch, Nasution’s main rival, and had a warm relationship with Sukarno.353 Nasution’s position eroded further when Sukarno established the Supreme Operational Command (KOTI) with himself as head and Yani as Chief of Staff. The KOTI was responsible for executing governmental and economic programs, as well as combatting counter-revolutionary forces and the Nekolim.



Despite Nasution’s sidelining, however, the military’s position as a whole was firm. The forces that had tended to challenge it – especially civilian parties and pol-iticians – had been "tamed," or co-opted into the Guided Democracy framework. Its rivals, the PSI and Masjumi, had been expelled from the political arena because of their opposition to Guided Democracy and their involvement in the regional revolts. As well, the SOB decrees Sukarno imposed to counter the revolts served to buttress military power; Sukarno’s foreign adventures – the West Irian campaign and the "Crush Malaysia" campaign354 – further entrenched it within the state. By virtue of Nasution’s Doctrine of Territorial Warfare,355 the military was also able to extend its presence in administrative bodies. Military men were made governors and district officers (bupati). A comparison with Burma is apposite: the system was similar to the hierarchies established by the military after 1962, under the auspices of the Security and Administrative Committee (SAC) and Law and, after 1988, the Order Restoration Committee (LORC). Indonesian officers heading the Regional War Authority bodies could claim to speak and act as representatives of the President who, in turn, depended on them for the administration of martial law.356 The military undertook Civic Action and "development" projects, like the Thai military under Sarit and Thanom (as well as Praphat). Finally, and even more significantly, the military set up a series of "funct-ional" groups -- youth, peasants, labour, women, and so on -- under its own control.
Sukarno’s notion of functional-group representation was in fact a godsend for the military. It was in line with the armed forces’ distaste for parliamentary politics,357 and dovetailed also with its self-image as a functional group. That image, sanctioned by Sukarno in 1958, was later legitimized in Suharto’s New Order via the Dwi Fungsi (Dual Function) formula. The military thus affirmed it's status as a socio-political grouping, one responsible for both defending and developing the nation.358 This reinforced its mystique as "guardian of the nation".
The functional-groups concept enabled the military to build a civilian base, known as Sekber Golkar (the Joint Secretariat of Functional Groups). In essence, this was an anti-PKI front composed of over ninety functional groups359 – the forerunner of Golkar, the government’s party which today dominates the representative-legislative sphere of Suharto’s New Order.
In the Guided Democracy years, however, the Sebker Golkar did not enjoy dominance. It could only compete with other fronts affiliated to political parties and the PKI.360 All of them competed for the favour of Sukarno, the man at the center of things. This arrangement can be contrasted with Burma under Ne Win, where the mil-itary monopolized the political arena and was subordinate only to Ne Win himself.
In the bid between power players in Sukarno's order, the PKI seemed to be gaining more influence owing to its ideological affinity with the "President for Life". Sukarno, for example, endorsed the PKI’s proposal to "nasakomize" the military through the dispatching of advisory teams to ABRI. He even supported arming work-ers and peasants as a "Fifth Force", threatening the military’s monopoly over the legitimate means of coercion.361 Owing to Sukarno's growing pro-PKI stance, the military, ABRI, felt, as Nasution puts it, "pushed into a corner."362
However, despite ABRI's growing unease with Sukarno’s increasing close alliance with the PKI and by the spectre of a communist triumph, the PKI was actually in a desperate "race against time".363 Crouch notes that the ideological affinity between Sukarno and the PKI was not mirrored by a significant PKI presence in the state sphere, and its position was still far from secure.364 The military, by contrast, was firmly entrenched in the state apparatus, as we have seen. In addition, the struggle between the PKI and the military over the "functional group representation" sphere of the Guided Democracy order was still unresolved. The PKI’s fronts -- which included the Central Organization of All Indonesian Workers (SOBSI), the BTI (a peasant front), the League of People’s Culture (LEKRA), and Gerwani, a women’s front -- were all challenged by military-backed fronts, just as the latter felt threatened by the PKI’s organizing efforts.
The PKI’s ascent, like that of its military nemesis, was a difficult one. After being nearly decimated by Nasution and the Siliwangi Division in a skirmish that became known as the "Madiun Affair" of 1948, the party made a comeback, winning 16 percent of the popular vote in the 1955 general elections. Led by Dipa Nusantara Aidit, it chose to support Sukarno in all his endeavours.365 In return, it gained the latter's protection from its bitterest foe, the military, and from socialist and Islamic rivals as well.
Most scholars have seen Sukarno’s attitude toward the PKI as prompted by political expediency, or by a desire to outflank the military and Islamic forces.366 There is certainly much truth in this evaluation. What also needs to be considered, though, is the close ideological affinity between Sukarno and the PKI.367 It made sense for the PKI to support a sympathetic and all-powerful ruler like Sukarno. After the 1955 elections -- the only genuine elections in Indonesia thus far -- Sukarno pressed successfully for the PKI to be included, albeit indirectly, in the government of Ali Sastroamidjojo. PKI leaders (Aidit, Lukman, Njoto) found themselves appointed to executive positions in the National Front in 1960, and the cabinet-like State Consultat-ive Body in 1962.

Equally valuable to the PKI was the actions Sukarno took against parties and fronts linked to ABRI or otherwise anti-PKI. In 1960, for example, Sukarno banned the League for Democracy, an anti-communist front drawn from the ranks of Masjumi, PSI, NU, and IP-KI (a party with close ties to the military).368 In the same year, he banned the PKI’s (and the military's as well, ironically) political rivals, the Masjumi and PSI, for different but rather good reasons – their involvement in the regional revolts. In 1964, The Body for the Upholding of Sukarnoism (BPS), a front led by Trade Minister and Murba leader Adam Malik that opposed "nasakomization," also was banned. Thanks to Sukarno’s active assistance and Guided Democracy politics, then, it can be said that the PKI gained a great deal of capital from its junior partner-ship with the "Great Leader", while the military increasingly came under ideological and political siege from Sukarno and the PKI.

The PKI gained further support among Java’s rural poor with its aksi sepihak, or unilateral actions -- peasant seizures of land considered already distributed under land reform laws of 1959 and 1960.369 These often-violent actions polarized the rural areas along class and religious lines: landowners and rural elites were mostly santri, or orthodox Muslims, and largely affiliated with the NU, while the poor were mostly abangan (nominal Muslims). PKI gains in this area, though, were offset by growing fears of lower-class violence and "Red terror." Many members of the socio-economic elite were pushed away from Sukarno and the PKI, and into the arms of the military,

Still, if ABRI enjoyed a "competitive edge" over its rival and enemy, the PKI’s long-term prospects were quite encouraging, given its closeness to the leader on which all actors in the Guided Democracy state depended. Things seemed even rosier when Sukarno’s relations with ABRI worsened as a result of the latter’s alleged foot-dragging on "nasakomisation" and the "Fifth Force". Sukarno even accused military leaders of becoming "reactionary".370 Adding fuel to the fire was Sukarno’s accusat-ions that Nekolim forces planned to assassinate him together with Dr.Subandrio and Yani, and that a coup by a CIA-backed "Council of Generals" was in the planning stages.371



Unfortunately for the PKI, Sukarno vomited and collapsed while receiving a Sekber-Golkar delegation. This spawned speculation about his health and rumours of impending coups and power struggles. Tensions increased; the balance of power was growing unsettled as mutual suspicions deepened among the twin pillars of Sukarno’s order, the PKI and the military. This set the stage for the dramatic and traumatic violence that exploded in late 1965.
The above analysis of the Guided Democracy state lends credence to the assertion in the theoretical framework that in an authoritarian order, military or otherwise, the political centre of gravity shifts towards the personal ruler, who holds the lion’s share of power. In the Guided Democracy order, this was Sukarno. He was in almost complete control of the state and its institutions, which largely became extensions of his will and vision. In this sense, the state was non-autonomous, malleable, and not insulated from Sukarno’s preferences.
We have seen that Sukarno was able to maintain quite a stable surface balance, despite the mutual antagonisms of the two pillars. ABRI’s entrenchment in the state apparatus was offset to a large extent by the PKI’s ideological closeness to Sukarno. But the fact that his two powerful subordinate forces were implacable enemies proved destabilizing at a deeper level. As it transpired, doubts about Sukarno’s health trigger-ed the kind of crisis of succession and transition to be expected, given the earlier discussion of the vulnerability of authoritarian systems when the ruler is weakened, physically or otherwise.


The “Succession” Crisis: Gestapu and the Birth of Suharto’s New Order State
Soon after Sukarno’s collapse, on October 1, the Gestapu (30th of September Movement) staged its coup attempt. It was led by Colonel Untung of the Presidential Guard and "radicals" from the Diponegro and Brawijaya Divisions.372 Yani and five top generals were killed, along with Nasution’s daughter and an aide. Nasution himself narrowly escaped death. Inexplicably, General Suharto, head of the counter-coup reserves (KOSTRAD), but not one of the Council of Generals, was not on the hit-list. This oversight proved fatal.373
Untung announced he had acted to pre-empt a coup by a CIA-backed "Council of Generals," to safeguard the President, and to purge ABRI of corrupt "power-mad generals".374 He proclaimed a Revolutionary Council, which he headed, and which included the Air Force’s Omar Dhani, Sukarno’s protégé and Foreign Minister Subandrio, the Navy chief, and other pro-PKI figures. Sukarno’s name, however, was absent. In this respect and others, Gestapu is a mystery that has generated considerable debate.375 The official version is that it was a PKI plot to split the army and secure its position after the death or incapacitation of Sukarno.376 The roles of Sukarno and Suharto are also intriguing. Was Sukarno involved in the coup, or did he know about it, and if so how much? Was Suharto simply an innocent beneficiary?377

Suffice it to say that by the second day, Suharto, with Nasution’s advice and with minimal fighting, had regained control.378 Nasution was, for the most part, in shock: he had been injured while escaping from the team sent to abduct and kill him, and his daughter had been mortally wounded. Sukarno was now in an awkward position. He had gone to Halim Air Base, the coup headquarters, along with Omar Dhani (who had openly endorsed the coup), Subandrio, Aidit, and other PKI leaders.379 That night he made for his palace at Bogor (not too far from Jakarta). The following day, Suharto visited Bogor, where Sukarno charged him with the task of restoring security and order. On 14 October, Sukarno retreated still further, appointing Suharto as Army Commander.

Taking advantage of public horror at the murder of the generals and Nasution’s daughter, the military set out swiftly to destroy the PKI. It joined with other anti-PKI elements – Islamic parties and youth organizations, the right wing of the PNI, and old political foes, along with anti-communist intellectuals and students. Its anti-PKI camp-aign included a televised exhumation of the dead generals, and a public funeral for them and Nasution’s daughter. Soon mobs looted and gutted PKI offices and property, first in Jakarta, then throughout the country. PKI members and alleged "communists" became fair game for frenzied mobs, egged on by Muslim leaders, local and rural notables, and anyone with a score to settle.380 John Hughes and Brian May claim soldiers took part in or encouraged the killings.381 The estimates of those killed, includ-ing women, children, and even babies, range from a low of 78,000 to half a million or more.382 Most of the victims were likely the poor, landless coolies and peasants who had participated in PKI rallies and "unilateral actions".383

Whatever their character and extent, the massacres served the New Order rulers in a number of key ways. First, it rid them of their main rival, the PKI. Second, as Julia Southwood and Patrick Flanagan suggest, the trauma turned survivors into "obedient collaborators and victims",384 and made many of those involved in the kill-ings the "partners in crime" of the regime. The bloodbath allowed New Order power-holders to present themselves as standing guard over society to prevent a replay of the traumatic events. The slaughter thus provided the regime with a negative kind of legit-imacy: as noted in the theoretical discussion, the fear of disorder and bloodshed may induce a degree of acceptance of authoritarian control, given the likely alternatives.


With the PKI annihilated, ABRI was the only significant force left. The time was near to get rid of Sukarno. Ironically, Sukarno then precipitated his own downfall. Misjudging his popularity, in early 1966 he dismissed Nasution as Defense Minister and ABRI Chief.385 In response, Ali Murtopo, an intelligence man and hard-core Suhartoist, stepped up his support for anti-Sukarno students who had taken to the streets under the banners of the Islamic University Students Association (HMI) and the Indonesian Students Action Group (KAMI). He orchestrated mass rallies together with attacks on Subandrio’s Foreign Ministry and the Chinese Embassy. The climax came on March 11, 1966, when the palace was surrounded by "unidentified" troops -- actually paratroops led by Sarwo Edhie, a hardline anti-Sukarnoist. Sukarno panicked and fled to Bogor on a helicopter. Suharto promptly sent three generals to the palace, and they convinced Sukarno to sign an order authorizing Suharto to "take all necessary steps" to guarantee secure, calm, and stable government. Suharto interpreted this "11th of March Order" (Supersemar) as a legal transfer of power.

Thus emboldened, Suharto took decisive action. He dissolved the Presidential Guard, arrested Sukarnoist ministers (including Subandrio), and formed a new cabinet with himself as Defence Minister. The Sultan of Jogjakarta was brought into the cabinet to lend Suharto an aura of legitimacy. He also forced the PNI (Sukarno’s informal power base) to hold a special congress under the eyes of the Siliwangi Division. This ensured that a Suhartoist chairman was "elected."

Next, Suharto purged the military of Sukarnoists. His own loyalists -- Sumitro, Dharsono, Surono, and so on -- were appointed as commanders of the Siliwangi, Diponegoro and Brawijaya Divisions, respectively. The civil service and the National Front were also purged. The final blow to Sukarno was delivered by none other than Nasution, as Chairman of the Provisional People’s Consultative Assembly (MPRS), the "king-making" body of the 1945 Constitution. In March 1966, this body stripped Sukarno of his title of President for Life. Later, symbolizing his total disempower-ment, he would be called to account for his role in Gestapu and "the economic and moral deterioration of the nation."386 In March 1967, the MPRS named Suharto as Acting President, officially withdrawing the mantle from Sukarno. The formal transfer of power was effected a year later, when Suharto was confirmed as President.

Of theoretical relevance in this discussion of the crisis and Suharto’s rise to power is the fact that the military establishment did not initiate the intervention, nor could it have. Its leaders were not united enough to move against Sukarno. They, especially Yani, had accepted Sukarno as a supreme leader, whatever differences existed over the role of the PKI.387 Finally, its place in the Guided Democracy regime was secure. Moreover, the military had no pressing reason to intervene. It would not necessarily be threatened even by Sukarno’s death or incapacitation. Actually, it was the PKI that stood to lose if any such misfortune befell Sukarno. One might surmise from the ease with which the top brass were eliminated in the Gestapu that they were not expecting trouble, much less contemplating a coup of their own at that point.

On the other hand, Gestapu itself was, strictly speaking, an act of military intervention. After all, it was carrried out by a military faction. It may thus be viewed as an attempt by a segment of the military to reorganize political power on behalf of a political leader or leaders – Sukarno and perhaps some PKI figures (probably without their full knowledge or involvement).

Gestapu suggests that military intervention is a phenomenon that is closely tied to the politics of the state, and as discussed theoretically, it will be ineffectual if carried out by a divided military or in the absence of a strongman-unifier. It also serves as further evidence that authoritarian orders, being dependent on the balance of forces that the ruler establishes, are vulnerable to system instability whenever the ruler shows signs of physical or political decline.

Regarding Suharto, he cannot, unlike Burma’s Ne Win (or Pibul and Sarit in Thailand), be classified as a military usurper. His rise, the inquiry shows, was not the result of military intervention per se, but rather was an outcome of the military’s response to a situation in which both the state and its position within it was threatened. The power vacuum within the military establishment created by Gestapu unified the military behind him -- making him as it were a de-facto military strongman-unifier -- and pushed him to the top. This buttresses the theoretical observation that military intervention is highly likely when the military is unified under an undisputed leader, and the stability of the state is gravely threatened. Further, Suharto might even be categorized as a constitutional authoritarian ruler. This seems particularly apt given that he gained power constitutionally: Sukarno was eased out by maneouvres well within the framework of the 1945 Constitution, which is still in force and serves as the legal basis of Suharto’s state order.




The Military and the Golkar Formula: The Simplification of State-Society Politics
The contours and structures of Sukarno’s Guided Democracy were intrinsically authoritarian; thus the transition from Sukarno to Suharto did not involve fundamental changes in the way power was organized. In fact, Suharto was careful to preserve the form and structures of the "old" order as set out in the 1945 Constitution.388 The same basic structures of political power obtain in his "New" Order: namely, a strong presid-ency; a largely "elected" legislative body or parliament (DPR); and the representation of regions and relevant functional groups, symbolized by the MPR (People's Consult-ative Assembly).389

Both Sukarno and Suharto based their rule on the 1945 Constitution and the five principles (or pillars) of Pancasila: Belief in One God, Humanitarianism, National Unity, Social Justice, and People's Sovereignty. It was primarily meant as a unifying doctrine. Both leaders used Belief in One God to thwart Islamic goals, and National Unity was an overriding preoccupation. Both leaders honored the other principles more symbolically than in practice, and they were able to manipulate all the pillars to serve their strategies of rule. But in this respect, Suharto was the more skilful political craftsman, and he was more successful in implementing an authoritarian state under the 1945 constitution framework.


After Gestapu, Suharto was faced with the task of firming up a badly-shaken authoritarian order. Fortunately, there was at that time no one to challenge the legitimacy of Sukarno’s hegemonizing-legitimizing formula, built around the 1945 Constitution and Pancasila,390 which all elite groups -- including ABRI and even the PKI -- had accepted as a "sacred" legacy of the revolution and integral to Indonesian nationhood. Carl Friedrich and Zbigniew Brzezinski have pointed to this feature of authoritarian orders: that some degree of consensus may coexist with coercion.391 The constituting of the New Order was no easy task, however. It involved rearranging forces to restore a balance among the constellation of state factions. It also meant "taming" forces unleashed by Gestapu, especially Islamic forces, which had become politicized during the transition period.

Suharto’s main problem at this juncture was how best to engineer the entrench-ing of what was then his only power base – the military – in the New Order’s political arena, where it could serve as a controlling and stabilizing force. The politically sophisticated solution was a remodelling of the functional-group representation prin-ciple provided for in the Constitution. The Sekber-Golkar, used to counter the PKI during the years of Guided Democracy, was revived. It became Golkar, the govern-ment’s party, and was placed under ABRI control (though this control slackened over time, as explored below). Golkar as the electoral machine of the regime. Its overriding function was to win votes and seats, and thus allow ABRI and Suharto to control the representative-legislative sphere. To this point, it has been successfully employed in six elections – 1971, 1977, 1982, 1987, 1992, and 1997 – that have served to stabilize and legitimize the New Order.


Golkar underwent several organizational reformulations before it was decided that Suharto, as chief supervisor, would be the supreme head. He was empowered to dictate or veto any Golkar appointment. Next in line came a Leadership Council consisting of a central executive board, along with executive boards from the provinces and regencies (administrative units). The chair and other top positions on these boards were held by active or retired ABRI men. Later they would pass to anyone particularly favoured by Suharto and ABRI.392
As Reeve notes, Golkar is a versatile vehicle facilitating ABRI’s entry into politics and state institutions. It also facilitates the movement of ABRI men among posts in the military, the Golkar leadership, and the representative-legislative sphere.393 Conceptually, Golkar can be likened to the Burmese Socialist Program Party (BSPP). Both were the instruments of the military and, ultimately, the ruler – Suharto and Ne Win respectively. Certain differences should not be overlooked, however. Suharto did not permit ABRI totally to dominate Golkar (and over time the military has ceased to dominate it), whereas the BSPP was simply a powerless façade for military rule.
Worse still for ABRI’s power prospects, Suharto strengthened the civilian presence in the upper reaches of the New Order power structure. At the end of 1993, he selected Harmoko as the first civilian chairman of Golkar – formerly ABRI’s political fief. Harmoko is said to be an ally of Habibie -- Suharto's protege (and Minister of Research and Technology) -- and a rising star himself.394 In addition, two of Suharto’s children – his daughter Tutut and son Bambang Trihadmodjo – were named vice-chair and treasurer of Golkar, respectively.395 Suharto clearly is attempting to build up a civilian-Islamic bloc through Habibie and others, as well as to strengthen the civilian component of Golkar. He is trying to consolidate Golkar’s position as a political party that is able to withstand ABRI’s pressure and influence and which operates in the manner of, say, Mexico’s Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI).396 If he is successful, the sophisticated authoritarian order Suharto has so cleverly constructed may be maintained and even more firmly institutionalized. In the future, presumably, Golkar will be led by his children and whichever ABRI figures or factions can be won over as allies.397
Golkar’s importance in the New Order scheme cannot be overemphasized. It ensures the closure of the representative-legislative sphere to societal forces.398 In addition, Golkar’s ability to fill representative-legislative bodies at all levels with a majority of loyal members has enabled ABRI (and ultimately Suharto) to dominate the MPR – the nation’s supreme body, which elects the President and draws the broad outlines of state policy.399 Without Golkar, ABRI would not easily have been able to assert its control over the representative-legislative sphere and politics more generally. In short, the Golkar formula has enabled the New Order state to maintain an apparently open political arena, and to rule constitutionally while effectively marginalizing opposition parties and forces (like the Islamic groups) that might, given the opportunity, challenge the regime.

Unlike Bama and Thai strongmen, therefore, Suharto has succeeded in establishing restrictive control over a state-society framework that in principle is somewhat open and pluralistic -- in Linz's term, a "limited pluralism", where those who are allowed to participate in politics do so at the sufferance of those holding power.400 In Burma, Ne Win and the military could maintain their hegemony only by completely closing the political arena through a one-party state-society arrangement. In Thailand, as will be shown, military leaders have had to live with a progressively more open political arena, as a result of the influence of the constitutional monarch on the political system.



The key to creating a subordinate but nominally pluralistic political arena lay in Suharto’s ability to "simplify" politics. In this he was assisted by a succession of versatile aides: among them, Ali Murtopo, Sumitro, Sudomo (a naval admiral), and Benny Murdani. In 1973, disparate and competing political parties were merged into two "opposition" or "minority" parties, with very little chance of one day becoming a ruling or majority one. The result was two parties in permanent opposition, divided by their different views and platforms, and composed of squabbling camps and factions. This made them highly vulnerable to the blandishments and threats of Suharto’s aides and their handpicked men in the DPR and MPR. Further restrictions were imposed on campaign platforms and the use of certain symbols (the Kaaba, for example); other laws forced the adoption of Pancasila as the only creed. Thus these parties became, as intended, shadows of political parties.401


The Military: The New Order’s Dominators, Stabilizers and Dynamizers
Apart from this "simplification" of politics, the military exerted control over the population by dominating the public institutions with which ordinary people had to interact on a daily basis: the administrative machinery of the state. Civil servants were forced to join Golkar or functional groups such as the Civil Servants Corps (KORPRI), and to swear loyalty to the state. This meant they had to cut their ties to other parties and join Golkar.402 ABRI’s reach extended still further, in the form of a military-dominated hierarchy of extra-administrative bodies that oversaw (and intervened in) administration down to the village level. Public servants and policy-implementing bodies were thereby deprived, to a large extent, of autonomy.403 Noteworthy here is that although soldiers could be said not to monopolize administrative bodies as in the past, the fact remains that ABRI is able to intervene when and where desired. It has the clout to prevent actions that run counter to its interests or threaten its overall dominance. In the early years, the presence of ABRI in the administrative sphere was almost as conspicuous as with the BSPP in Burma. So, too, was the subordination of civilian bureaucrats to military men, who governed 17 out of 24 provinces and constit-uted over half of all bupatis and mayors.404
The ABRI further sought to impose control through surveillance and coercion, another feature that resembled Burma under Ne Win and presently. Pivotal in this respect are intelligence and security agencies like the National Stability Coordination Board (BAKORSTANAS) and its predecessors, the State Intelligence Coordinating Body (BAKIN) and the Operational Command for the Restoration of Security and Order (KOPKAMTIB). These enjoy wide powers to spy, intimidate, search, and arrest. Like Burma's military intelligence agency (MIS), they are accountable only to the military ruler.405 KOPKAMTIB, for instance, was empowered to intrude in all spheres of society. It intervened in police work and labour disputes. It kept a watch on students, censored the press, spied on military officers, harassed Islamic parties and groups, and exerted pressure on ministries and administrative agencies as the situation demanded. This is not to say, however, that Indonesia is a police state. The degree and character of state intimidation varies and is dependent on the locality and situation. Intimidation was more open and pervasive in the early years of the New Order than today.406 In East Timor, though, coercion and state terror remain facts of life.407
Control of the press is seen as particularly important to the regime’s control over society. It is exercised in many ways, including outright banning. More common is a telephone call requesting editors not to print certain articles or report on events, on pain of having the publication’s permit revoked or subscriptions cancelled. Another is the "press briefing", where the press is given the "facts" of certain events. Fear and self-censorship are the results, as well described by Adam Schwarz.408 Largesse may also be provided: an air-conditioned secretariat for the Indonesian Journalists Association; soft and long-term loans; cash favours or "envelopes"; substantial governmental subscriptions; free airline tickets for pilgrimages to Mecca; or dinners for senior editors with ministers and top military brass.409 In sum, the press in Indonesia undergoes periodic but regular liberalization -- usually followed by re-imposed restrictions. In the open periods, the press has been surprisingly and remarkably free. It has tended to push the limits and a clampdown inevitably follows when taboo topics -- for example, Suharto's retirement, his children, criticism of Islam -- are discussed. (In Thailand, the taboo topic is the monarchy and the royal family).
ABRI’s success in entrenching itself in the state, and its position above society, have shaped the contours of the relationships that constitute the New Order. First, its dominance has given soldiers the opportunity to become decision-makers, "legislators" in local assemblies and the national parliament, political managers and "politicians" in Golkar, and important administrators and policy formulators, as well as business man-agers. As Andrew MacIntyre and Jamie Mackie note, ABRI is allocated one-fifth of parliamentary seats, in addition to the "elected" but military-nominated Golkar MPs. Its members also hold important posts in key ministries (Home and Justice, for example) and the position of secretary of state. The military exercises "wide powers of supervision and control over local officials and societal organizations throughout rural society."410

Second, military control of political-administrative offices have allowed top officers to use the state apparatus and political power to amass wealth.411 As a consequence, an entire class has emerged whose standing is based almost solely on political power and/or state connections – a common feature of such authoritarian arrangements, as noted in the theoretical framework. A case in point is Suharto himself. Michael Vatikiotis claims he used his position as commanding officer of the Diponegoro Division and, later, as President to accumulate about US $2-3 billion; these were 1990-91 figures and were projected to grow rapidly. The key to this wealth has been business deals or connections with Chinese cukong-entrepreneurs such as Liem Sioe Liong and Kian Siang (Bob Hassan).412 Other generals – for instance, Ibnu Sutowo, and even dissidents like Jasin, Sukendro, and Dharsono – have obtained state favours and used them to generate wealth.413 According to Murdani, a former Defence Min-ister and once a close aide to Suharto, an ordinary retired general could easily make US $1-2 million through contracts and tenders.414 ABRI’s dominance is such that, in Schwarz’s words, it would have been the envy of soldiers of several Latin American states.415


Third, and most important, the fact that the military wore three hats -- those of soldier, politician, and administrator -- knitted the four million civil servants together under military tutelage. The result has been a relatively cohesive state stratum of armed and unarmed bureaucrats.416 In the three decades since the birth of the New Order, members of this stratum have formed a cohesive social web, a "sub-society" separated especially from lower social strata. One might add that, as in other Third World areas, the state has consciously created a collective awareness among state officials. The identity is bolstered by provision of special privileges and prequisites, increased opportunities for family members, and the higher social status that accrues from "belonging" to a ruling or administering class.417 It can be seen as well in routines and rituals like the wearing of uniforms, Monday morning parades, member-ship in KORPI (or their wives’ in Dharma Wanita), and "P4" courses of Pancasila indoctrination (which is also taught in all the schools).
Members of this state stratum have also established links with elites in other spheres: businessmen, professionals, and intellectuals, as well as local notables and community leaders. The regime’s carrot-and-stick strategy of co-option, combined with the social and patrimonial linking of the official class to other societal elites, has created a national "elite network" and an important degree of consensus. Certain rules of the game have been established, based on not rocking the boat too vigorously, or seeking support outside elite circles (for example, by championing the cause of sub-ordinated social strata).418 Such linkages, rules, and points of consensus are vital to the stability of authoritarian orders. Non-state elite groups gain access to state resources; state elites live very comfortably, partly as a result of their extra-state connections.419 Like the Thai strongmen-rulers, then, but unlike Ne Win and the Tatmadaw in Burma, Suharto and ABRI have been able to broaden the base of authoritarianism and create an elite consensus. In this manner the state has been strengthened and its autonomy heightened, particularly vis-à-vis the excluded and disenfranchised forces it dominates.


Suharto and the Politics of Personal Domination
The view presented here of New Order Indonesia as a military-dominated polity is not meant to suggest that it is a military state – though in many ways it is that as well. ABRI is certainly the main pillar of the New Order. But it stands at the pinnacle of a state in which power, control, and key resources derive from the president and his close aides.420 In his amassing of personal power, Suharto’s brand of authoritarianism is similar in many aspects to Sukarno’s, Ne Win’s, and the version implemented by Thai strongmen-rulers -- Pibul, Sarit, Thanom, and Praphart.

Still, Sukarno and Suharto do differ, notably in their personalities and visions. Sukarno was impelled by a vague "Marxism" and a populist-nationalist romanticism which saw national politics as part of a struggle of the world’s downtrodden against global exploitation and oppression. His enemies were more external than internal: Britain, the United States, and associated client regimes. In this respect, Sukarno’s political vision was rather cosmopolitan. By contrast, Suharto, who attained power fortuitously after the Gestapu, has necessarily been more narrowly focused. Not exactly an insider in the pre-1965 ABRI hierarchy, despite his distinguished record,421 Suharto nonetheless had the capacity to pursue his goals by means both pragmatic and manipulative. His primary concern was to hold onto the power that fell into his hands and prevent the disintegration of a very shaky authoritarian state order. This involved transforming ABRI into a loyal political tool that could be used to stabilize and strengthen both the state and Suharto’s dominance within it.


It is to Suharto’s great credit that he was able to restore and preserve an authoritarian order in a situation in which disparate forces, each with its own agenda, intruded into politics and sought to extract benefits from the new man at the centre.422 The situation was dangerous, but provided Suharto as pivotal power-player with the opportunity to exploit these forces and the prevailing climate of anxiety. He benefitted from the trauma of a "mass insanity": the communal killing throughout Indonesia. Many hungered for a strong figure to stop the "madness," making the imposition of order the overriding priority.
Suharto seized the opportunity to remodel and refine the Sukarno system. He focused his attention on the principle of functional group representation. He used Golkar, which ostensibly existed to represent these groups, as a means of entrenching his power base in the military, politics, and the state, and the military's in politics. It was also the method by which he dominated the legislative-representative arena, neutralizing political parties and Islamic forces. Suharto loyalists – aides such as Ali Murtopo, Sumitro, Darjatmo, Amir Murtono, Sokowati, and Sapardjo – consolidated Golkar through their patient legwork, and steered it to victory in the first New Order elections of 1971. With a majority in the new parliament (DPR), the Suharto group moved to simplify and re-structure the political parties, reducing them to two – the PPP (United Development Party) and PDI (Indonesian Democratic Party)– which were no match for Golkar.
The remodelling of the representative-legislative assemblies, the DPR and MPR, eroded whatever functional purpose they might have served. As Vice-President Adam Malik put it, a parliamentarian’s life came to consist of the "four D’s" (in Bahasa Indonesian): clock in, collect your pay, sit back, and keep quiet.423 Despite some more recent tendencies towards independence among legislators, the power of the representative-legislative bodies has been effectively circumvented, and deliberations skewed in favour of those who control Golkar – Suharto and ABRI.424 To clarify parliamentarians, especially those in the military and Golkar fraksi (division), have debated and expressed concerns over specific issues, and delayed some government bills. They have even campaigned against the government in connection, for example, with public lotteries and increase in electricity prices. But, as McIntyre points out, the DPR (parliament) has been unable to change government policy, and its ability to constrain government actions remains very limited, however.425
After establishing unchallenged hegemony in this sphere, Suharto moved swift-ly to tame the only force left that was capable of challenging him. Well aware of ABRI’s history of insubordination, he set out to set his personal stamp on its function-ing. First, he rallied those who had dutifully served him, largely in an intelligence or special-operations capacity.426 The "special aides" (for example, Murtopo, Sumitro, and later, Murdani) were drawn into the inner circle, and charged with managing "general and specific affairs". That meant their jurisdiction and power were unlimited – or rather, limited only by Suharto. They also moved into key positions within ABRI, the ministries, security and intelligence bodies, economic and development agencies, and the Golkar machinery. Because they owed their status to Suharto, he was able effectively to play one off against the other. This "palace polit-ics" kept the "palace generals" divided. The man at the centre, ever vigilant, could clip the wings of excessively ambitious up-and-comers.427
Suharto likewise moved to rid ABRI of rivals and potential challengers, like Burma's Ne Win. The first to go was Nasution, the only general officer who outranked him, thanks to Gestapu.428 He was shifted upstairs as MPRS chairman, used to discredit and sideline Sukarno, and then marginalized himself. Next to go (in the late 1960s) were the "New Order radicals" -- Sarwo Edhie, Kemal Idris, and Dharsono. They had played pivotal roles in installing Suharto and destroying both the PKI and the Sukarnoists, just as Sarit rid himself of the Phao-Phin faction, and Ne Win of most members of the original Revolutionary Council.429 Over the years, other generals were jettisoned.430 By the 1980s, Suharto had successfully weathered challenges from both ABRI and the inner circle. He was his own man. Suharto’s long tenure as President further elevated his status to that of supreme-leader and father figure – not just for New Order acolytes, but for the nation as a whole.

ABRI was also restructured to diminish the power of those in the formal chain of command. A series of military reorganizations reduced the autonomy of the Air Force and the Navy, bringing them under the control of the Department of Defence and Security (HANKAM). This, in turn, was always controlled by a Suharto loyalist. The operational capacity of Area Command was likewise reduced. Crack units were placed under HANKAM and came to form part of the Strategic Reserve (KOSTRAD) and the Secret Warfare Force (Kopassandha), both under loyalist direction.



Suharto also initiated what Jenkins has called a system of "doubling-up of functions", wherein powerful aides hold each other in check. In the late 1970s, for example, Chief Mohammad Jusuf, who served as ABRI Chief, Minister of Defence, and head of HANKAM, had Murdani and Sudomo as deputies. Sudomo, as head of KOPKAMTIB, had Murdani and Yoga under him; Murdani also served as Yoga’s deputy when the latter headed BAKIN. All were granted direct access to Suharto, turning the strongman into their chief manipulator and arbiter.431
ABRI as an institution was kept happy and busy through the political openings provided to active and retired personnel alike. This opened up new career paths and avenues of influence for military men, who served as Golkar functionaries and appointed or "elected" members of the DPR and MPR. In addition, as noted, soldiers held positions in ministerial bureaucracies, the judiciary, the military-territorial administration, the civil administration, and the state enterprises – Pertamina, Bulog, Inkopad, Perhutani, Berdikari, and the state banks.432 Top-echelon soldiers were well-positioned to grant or withhold permits, licenses, contracts, credits, and protection to local entrepreneurs (mainly ethnic Chinese) and domestic or foreign entrepreneurs. In exchange, top ABRI men would receive a share of the profits, commissions, board memberships, and jobs for family members and clients.433 Being so well-rewarded, these figures were unlikely to risk their future prospects by moving against a ruler who had become their father-benefactor. This is a useful reminder that while disgruntled or idealistic officers might arise to challenge the status quo, the vast majority tends to be occupied taking advantage of the opportunities the military system has to offer to risk challenging the system. The pivotal role of Suharto, the military strongman-ruler, as described above, is in agreement with the theoretical observation that states that military-authoritarian rulers play a pivotal role in the re-structuring of the state and that to a large extent they determine the configuration of power among state elements, and in particular, the military's position within the system.
And yet challenges to Suharto did arise within ABRI. The earliest, albeit indirect, occurred in 1973-74. It was rooted in the rivalry between intelligence men: Sumitro of KOPKAMTIB and Juwono of BAKIN, on the one hand, and Suharto’s staffers Murtopo and Humardhani, on the other. The challenge coincided with turbulence linked to Islamic protests against the Marriage Bill, which gave non-Islamic groups an equal voice in marriage and family-related matters. A rice crisis and student protests against the technocratic economic strategy and Japanese "domination" added to the volatile brew. Sumitro and Juwono sympathized with the protesters and their attacks, not just against ABRI’s Dual Function doctrine, but against corrupt members of the elite, including those close to Suharto and his wife. Typical of the opaque "palace politics" that predominate in authoritarian orders, there were even allegations that the students had been egged on by the Sudomo-Murtopo clique and used to discredit Sumitro. The climax was widespread rioting and the "Malari" incident, followed by repression, mass detentions, and the muzzling of the press. An important consequence of "Malari" was the purging of Sumitro and his group, which marked Suharto’s rise to full supremacy. No subsequent challenge to Suharto has ever arisen among officers on active duty. Nor have elite challengers sought to forge linkages with subordinated elements in waging their intra-military or intra-elite battles.434
Opposition to Suharto emerged again in the late 1970s. This time it was led by former generals, with Nasution at the forefront.435 They were eventually joined by well-known former leaders like Mohammed Hatta (co-founder, with Sukarno, of modern Indonesia). Former Prime Ministers and ex-cabinet ministers joined the cause.436 They expressed concern over the direction of Suharto’s profit-driven development strategies, the growing gap between rich and poor, and the pervasive corruption.437 Their allegations reached into the inner circle, targetting "Pak (Father) Harto", Mrs. Suharto, and business cronies of the President.438 The group’s main focus, though, was on Suharto’s "distortion" of the Dual Function doctrine, the Pancasila principle, the 1945 Constitution, and the close identification between Golkar and ABRI. The challengers contended that ABRI’s fused identity with Golkar, and by extension with the personal ruler, had turned it into nothing more than the tool of the ruling group. They argued, instead, that ABRI should stand "above all groups". Their campaign culminated in May 1980 with the "Statement of Concern" signed by fifty prominent figures (the "Petisi 50" or Petition 50 Group). The statement charged that Suharto, in consolidating his personal position, had divided rather than united the nation.

The challenge by Nasution and the others seemed to gain adherents in the inner circle, including Adam Malik,439 Generals Alamsjah, Jusuf, and Widodo. The last two produced the Jusuf "blue book" and the Widodo Papers, which sought to redefine ABRI as a force that stood "as one with the people," independent of the government of the day and particular power-holders. They advocated the reduction of ABRI’s involvement in non-military affairs, and proposed that it be placed above all political groups, including Golkar.440

But the opposition withered when Suharto lashed out, warning ABRI would have to "choose friends", and that "enemies" would be isolated and destroyed.441 The ease with which Suharto was able to overcome this challenge indicates just how strong he had become, and how pervasive was his aura of power and invulnerability.

The President’s dominance was further reinforced in 1983, when a substantial number of officers reached retirement age and Benny Murdani was made the new ABRI Chief. He set about "rationalizing" ABRI’s command structure, further central-izing control in the hands of Suharto loyalists. As Schwarz, Vatikiotis, and others have pointed out, increasingly, ABRI brass found themselves outside the decision-making loop.442 A case in point is Suharto’s appointment of General Sudharmono, whom ABRI disliked, as Vice President in 1988. Sudharmono was viewed by ABRI, while chairman of Golkar (1983-88), as building a rival civilan power-base through the diversion of tenders and contracts to non-military clients and cronies. ABRI’s attempts to block his "election" as Vice-President in 1988 proved futile (although it was able to replace Sudharmono with it's candidate, Wahano, as Golkar chairman in 1988).443 This is not to say ABRI has not been able, subtly, to assert a degree of autonomy. For instance, it did manage to get its choice, Sutrisno, selected as, Vice-President for the 1993-98 term (before Suharto made known his choice).444

The absence, as Schwarz and Vatikiotis note, of credible opponents within the military in the 1990s has meant that Suharto can largely ignore the military’s political opinions.445 As part of his effort to gain wider support, Suharto has worked to mend fences with a faction of "political Islam". In December 1990 he sanctioned the establishment of the Association of Muslim Intellectuals (ICMI), led by a rising protégé, the Minister of Research and Technology B.J. Habibie.446 Significantly, not a single ABRI man attended Habibie’s inauguration.447 Suharto followed this up with a 1991 pilgrimage to Mecca, his family and loyal retainers in tow.448
Suharto is very much in control of ABRI. According to one long-time observer, all military promotions receive the President’s personal approval.449 Suharto also handpicks the heads of the military services and the police. He has final say over who commands KOSTRAD (the Strategic Reserve), the Jakarta regional command, and the special strike force, the Kopassus Regiment.450 The new Army Chief of Staff, Raden Hartono, is reportedly close to Suharto’s daughter, Tutut (Siti Hardijanti Rukmana). He also has close ties to current Suharto protégés B.J. Habibie (Minister of Research and Technology and head of the Association of Muslim Intellectuals, ICMI) and Harmoko (civilian chairman of Golkar).451 On the whole, ABRI has been loyal to Suharto for almost thirty years, serving the ruler as a power base and instrument of the New Order state.
Suharto has, as a personal ruler, certainly been an astute observer and manipulator of his lieutenants and clients. He has also taken great care to cultivate the loyalty, cooperation and support of groups within an oligarchical ruling circle. And at the time, he has been quite successful in eliminating their autonomous political power and influence. In the context of personal rulership style as discussed by Robert Jackson and Carl Rosberg, one might describe Suharto's rulership style as that of a prince and an autocrat.452 Small wonder that William Liddle refers to Suharto as the "Indonesian king".453

The distinction between public and private spheres in strategies of rule is essentially a Western concept. But it not a concept that can be easily ignored.454 On the other hand, the notions of "mandate of heaven" and divine right that once justified personal rule lack legitimacy nowadays. All contemporary states, including Suharto’s, formally subscribe to the notion that the state and/or government are public institutions serving the common good. In Indonesia, however, there is a wide gap, as Liddle stresses, between "the proclaimed democratic values and authoritarian practices"455 -- that is, between the public orientation of rulership and the private exercise of power by a ruler who is "unaccountable to constituencies beyond the army ... [and] most of the time not even to the army".456 This may not augur well for Indonesia’s future.


As indicated by the analysis, above, Suharto's New Order state is, unlike Ne Win's BSPP state, a complex military-authoritarian state. It is also quite a distinctive one, being more open than many such orders. There are three political parties that "compete" in periodic, regular elections, and there are legislative assemblies that debate issues, elect the chief executive, and lay down state policies. On the other hand, however, the configuration of state-society interaction and the pattern of relative-autonomy relations in Suharto’s New Order evince all the central characteristics, as Heeger notes -- and discussed in the theoretical chapters -- of military-authoritarian orders.
These include: (a) the transformation of political roles and actors into bureau-cratic ones; (b) key powerholders’ increasing personal control over the political-administrative bureaucracy and state institutions; and (c) the erosion of rational-legal bureaucratic norms throughout the polity and their replacement by personal, particular-istic practices. There obtains a pattern of autonomy relations where the pre-eminent ruler enjoys the greatest degree of relative autonomy vis-à-vis the state and its institutions. Possessing a somewhat lesser degree of autonomy are military men and other subordinate power-holders. Thus, both Indonesian state institutions and Indonesian society enjoy less autonomy vis-à-vis Suharto and subordinate key officials. The state is more malleable, less insulated, and more responsive to state officials (especially Suharto); it is the opposite where society is concerned.457


The Problem and Politics of Transition: Indonesia After Suharto
We have seen that the New Order state is, on balance, Suharto’s creation and most responsive to him. His authority and influence is firmly anchored in the state, and extends into the political sphere as well.458 This situation is inherently unstable, as the discussion in the theoretical chapters (Chapter 2, in particular) suggest -- more so when the strongman-ruler is in physical decline and/or, with the passage of time, approaching the end of his rule. Like all men, Suharto is mortal. The fact that he is not a dynastic ruler means that whatever stability and legitimacy he has won for both the Presidency and New Order institutions could be reversed without him at the helm.459
A further complication is Suharto’s seeming unwillingness to designate a military man in active service as his successor, which keeps both aspirants and analysts guessing.460 As Vakiotis notes, all vice-presidents either have been ABRI men not on active command, or civilians. This is true of the Golkar chairmanship as well.461 Suharto’s strategy here apparently aims to ensure that his grown children, who head vast economic "empires", are protected into the future.462 Knowledgeable sources in Jakarta suggest that a military successor to Suharto would not likely be kind to them.463
As Suharto’s departure from the scene looms closer, Indonesia faces a potentially grave problem of succession and/or transition. This is exacerbated by the tension between notions of popular sovereignty and the practice of personal rule, and complicated too by far-reaching changes in the country’s economic base, owing to resource exports (particularly the oil boom of the 1970s), inflows of foreign aid and capital, and the "liberalizing" reforms of the late 1980s.464 The transformations have led to the evolution of a distinct economic sphere closely tied to regional and global regimes of finance, investment and trade. These would seem to require a more legal-rational orientation and reduced state control and corruption.465
The more complex capitalist economy has given rise to a small, but vibrant "middle-class" stratum and has engendered the hope that authoritarianism might be diluted by the new stratum’s aspirations for greater participation and more rights. It has been argued, for example, that the "new"economy gives greater space to organized business interests to exert their influence. Bargaining relationships have arisen, as Andrew McIntyre suggest, between the state and some industry groups -- especially in the insurance, textile, and pharmaceutical sectors.466 Further evidence of the new middle-class assertiveness is the proliferation of NGOs representing those adversely affected by existing development policies. Among these are the Legal Aid Institute (LBH), the Democracy Forum, the Institute for the Defence of Human Rights, a state sanctioned labor union (the SPSI, or the All Indonesia Workers Union), and an independent, not legally registered labor union, along with a range of non-profit social and charity concerns.467 Recent years have also seen the rise of numerous small self-help groups under such umbrellas as the Institution for Promoting Self-Reliant Community Development (LPM) and the Self-Reliant Community Development Insitute (LSM).468 As Liddle cautions, however, most of these NGOs are tiny and resource-poor.469

Another line of argument is possible. Despite economic "modernization," Mackie stresses that both the middle class and the bourgeoisie are small and hetero-geneous; the bourgeoisie, in addition, is mostly ethnic Chinese.470 The rural and urban propertied class is prevented by state elements from intruding into politics or exerting political power.471 Given the nature of the middle class and the hierarchical social order, not to mention the social structures that shape political culture, hopes for a middle-class-led democratic transition may be misplaced.472


Future state-society arrangements in Indonesia therefore rest largely in the hands of state elements and Suharto himself. Suharto’s main problem is how to extend his "consolidated or mature authoritarianism" into the future, and prevent power from falling under the sway of a military strongman who might be hostile to his children and their wealth. An equally important concern is to prevent the rise of other forces -- for example, Islamic extremists -- who might overturn the institutions that Suharto has so skilfully crafted.
For ABRI, the challenge is more or less to maintain the status quo. It would like to regain some of the dominance it has lost under Suharto recently. Mostly, ABRI wants a successor chosen from its combat ranks (not officers from the legal or bureaucratic sections, like Sudharmono). Its worst nightmare would be a successor whose power-base is in the civilian sectors of Golkar or the bureaucracy, or -- worse still -- one beholden to political Islam.473 This scenario would almost certainly invite military intervention. The political game in Indonesia thus may come to centre not on the configuration of state-society relations as such, but on competing elements of the state stratum. But because ABRI is not monolithic and is politically cohesive only when unified by a strongman, it is possible that there may be a round of vigorous and possibly protracted military intrusions.

CHAPTER FIVE:

THAILAND: MILITARY INTERVENTION AND THE POLITICS OF AUTHORITARIAN DOMINATION


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