Friday, July 20, 2018

Micronesia President Should Help Ambonese Political Prisoners


In June 2017, families of these political prisoners visited the Communion 
of Churches in Indonesia. Chairwoman Ery Lebang and secretary
general Gomar Gultom listened to the tortures the prisoners had suffered
plus the discrimination in their Aboru village, Haruku Island.


Federated States of Micronesia President Peter M. Christian should raise the suffering of eight Ambonese political prisoners, jailed more than 3,000 kilometers from their home island, when visiting his ancestors’ and their Ambon Island in Indonesia’s Moluccas archipelago this week.

These prisoners suffer not only from physical illness but also from isolation. Six prisoners, including school teacher Johan Teterisa, are now jailed on Indonesia’s Nusa Kambangan prison island. Two others are jailed in Porong, Java Island, and Pamekasan, Madura Island. They’re serving prison terms between 15 and 20 years.

Their prisons are very far from their home Haruku Island, a 30-minute speed boat ride from Ambon. The multiple travel is also expensive which severely handicaps the prisoners’ ability to stay in close touch with their friends and family members.

Indonesia's presidential guards and police arrested
Johan Teterisa on June 29, 2007, when he was dancing
in the Ambon stadium. He's now still in Nusa Kambangan
prison, more than 3,000 kilometers from Ambon.
On June 29, 2007, Johan Teterisa led a group of 27 Moluccan independence activists to join in a national Family Day festival at the Ambon stadium. They scandalized then-President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, who was in the audience with a group of foreign diplomats, by performing the Moluccan cakalele traditional war dance and unfurling the officially banned Republic of South Maluku flag.

Police arrested them and 48 other pro-independence activists. Police tortured them and within months an Ambon court had convicted them for “treason,” sentencing them to prison terms of seven to 20 years. Most of them have been released but the remaining eight men who joined the dance with Teterisa.

The convictions were under articles 106 and 110 of the Indonesian Criminal Code, which effectively criminalize freedom of expression. Human rights organizations, including Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, have repeatedly asked the Indonesian government to release them, arguing that they just aired their political aspiration peacefully. Three other Moluccan political prisoners –Fredy Akihary, Jusup Sapakoly and Frangky Simiasa-- died inside their prisons.

Johan Teterisa's sons, 
Rivaldo and Yohanis Relton Teterisa, 
in their housing complex in Cikarang, 
outside Jakarta
President Christian is on an one-week visit in Indonesia, meeting President Joko Widodo and visiting an airplane factory in Bandung, a three-hour drive from Jakarta, where he’s inspecting the possibility to buy some planes. When meeting Widodo, he praised Indonesia for joining the United Security Council and promised to support Indonesia in international arena including in the Pacific Islands Forum where West Papua issue is getting more heated.

In April 2016, Indonesia’s Minister of Law and Human Rights Yasonna Laoly promised to transfer these prisoners back to Ambon, getting them closer to their families. Laoly has not delivered his promise. I learned that his bureaucrats had complained that they cannot buy airline tickets to transfer these prisoners back to Ambon. President Peter Christian could probably remind his Indonesian hosts that they’re selling him new airplanes. How could they have no money to buy airplane tickets? 

Saturday, July 07, 2018

Amir Husin Daulay dalam Ingatan

Oleh Imran Hasibuan


Poster Amir Husin Daulay.
Kemarin malam, aku ikut acara Mengenang AHD (Amir Husin Daulay) di Guntur 49, bersama banyak kawan aktivis. Dari yang paling senior, Hariman Siregar, hingga anak-anak muda yang sudah tak kukenal lagi. Semuanya pasti kenal AHD, paling tidak pernah dengar namanya. Sebagai tuan rumah, Isti Nugroho dan Sri Hidayati (istri AHD).

Lantas apa yang layak dikenang dari AHD? Dalam memori ingatanku, kenangan itu lumayan panjang, merentang masa sekitar 27 tahun (1986-2013). Selama itu tentu ada pasang surut dalam hubungan personal kami, tapi tak pernah putus.

Sayup-sayup masih teringat ketika suatu hari sebagai mahasiswa baru di FISIP Universitas Nasional, aku menjenguk ruang kerja redaksi Politika. Seminggu sebelumnya, bersama beberapa kawan --diantaranya Nuku Soleiman-- sudah mengikuti pelatihan jurnalistik Politika.

Ruang redaksi itu berada di lantai 4 Gedung B, Kampus Sawo Manila. Ruangannya sempit, menyempil di pojok gedung dan berseberangan dengan toilet. Lokasinya sama sekali tak strategis, tak ada lalu lalang mahasiswa yang melintas. Sepi kalau tak ada aktivitas redaksi. Dan untuk mencapai ruang redaksi itu, harus menaiki tangga berliku.

Di anak tangga terakhir, aku lihat pintu ruangan Politika terbuka.

"Ada orang," pikirku.

Langsung saja, aku masuk. Tepat di mulut pintu, mata ku bersirobok dengan sosok lumayan sangar: tambun dan berjenggot lebat. "Bah... Siapa orang ini?"

Tak ada orang lain di sana. Aku sapa dia, tapi diam saja, sambil terus membaca berkas-berkas yang terserak di meja kecil. Belum lagi pikiran ku bergerak kemana-mana, orang sangar itu sudah bertanya:

"Siapa nama kau?"

"Imran Hasibuan, tapi biasa dipanggil Ucok."

"Dari mana asal kau?"

"Medan, bang"

Mendengar kata Medan, keningnya langsung berkerenyit. "Medan nya dimana?"

"Glugur Hong, bang"

"Owhh... Kau yang ikut pelatihan minggu lalu ya."

"Iya bang"

"Ya sudah. Kau beres-beresin kantor ini," perintahnya sampai ngeloyor pergi, tanpa memperkenalkan diri sama sekali.

Baru beberapa hari ini kemudian aku bertanya kepada salah seorang senior Politika tentang orang sangar itu. "Itu Bang Amir. Nanti kau juga tahu siapa dia," jawab senior itu. Menggantung betul informasinya.

Berbilang bulan kemudian, baru aku tahu bahwa AHD-lah yang menghidupkan lagi Politika, beberapa tahun sebelumnya. Pada 1986, ia sudah memimpin Lembaga Pers Mahasiswa Universitas Nasional dan menerbitkan koran mahasiswa Solidaritas.

Pertengahan 1980-an itu pers mahasiswa di kampus Sawo Manila sedang di puncak aktivitasnya. Hampir tiap minggu ada saja kegiatan yang digelar pers mahasiswa di Universitas Nasional: pelatihan jurnalistik, diskusi dengan tema sosial-politik, sampai pembacaan puisi WS Rendra. Kegiatan tahunan yang paling ikonik adalah Pekan Orientasi Jurnalistik Mahasiswa berskala nasional. Setiap kali digelar pesertanya mencapai 200-300 orang dari berbagai kampus seluruh Indonesia.

Pokoknya, kampus Sawo Manila benar-benar semarak. Bagaikan magnet, Universitas Nasional menarik perhatian para aktivis pers mahasiswa dari seluruh penjuru negeri. Tak hanya itu, hampir setiap bulan masuk kampus para jurnalis terkemuka Indonesia, mantan aktivis mahasiswa, sastrawan, akademisi, dan orang-orang terkemuka dari berbagai profesi. Motor utana semua kegiatan itu adalah AHD. Rupanya, ia berhasil meyakinkan Rektor Universitas Nasional Sutan Takdir Alisjahbana tentang perlunya menyemarakkan kampus Sawo Manila.

Dan aku "terperangkap" di tengah kesemarakan itu. Tak lama kemudian, aku malah "terperangkap" dalam jaring aktivitas di di sekitar AHD.

Begini ceritanya. Setelah aktif sebagai reporter di Politika, tentu aku terlibat dalam kerja-kerja jurnalistik pers mahasiswa dan kegiatan lainnya. Kala itu, AHD telah membentuk satu markas di luar kampus. Yang disebut markas ini tak lain rumah kontrakannya, di gang kecil di kawasan Jalan Siaga, Pasar Minggu. Tak jauh dari markas itu ada kandang sapi milik tetangga, yang setiap waktu mengirimkan bau kotoran sapi. Karena itu, di kalangan aktivis mahasiswa yang hilir mudik ke sana, rumah itu disebut "Markas Kandang Sapi".

Amir Husin Daulay (tengah) bersama aktivis mahasiswa.
Suatu kali, saat lagi berkumpul di "Markas Kandang Sapi" AHD bilang: "Cok, kau tinggal di sini aja. Itu ada kamar kosong di belakang". Rupanya, penghuni kamar itu telah keluar. Aku mengiyakan.

Seminggu kemudian, aku sudah menempati kamar kecil di sebelah dapur. Kamar utama yang paling luas, tentu saja, ditempati AHD. Dua kamar lainnya, ditempati dua senior lain: Imron Zein Rolas dan Nurdin Fadli. Semuanya "Anak Medan". Sejak itu jadilah aku anak bawang di Markas Kandang Sapi.

Ya betul-betul anak bawang, karena kebagian tugas-tugas yang gak penting: mulai cuci piring sampai disuruh beli rokok. Kalau ada tamu para aktivis dari kampus lain (yang paling sering datang Agus Edy Santoso alias Agus Lennon, sambil bawa selebaran atau pamflet) aku hanya boleh mendengarkan percakapan mereka saja.

"Kau masih anak bawang, belum boleh komentar," kata AHD, juga dua senior lain itu.

Tapi, sebagai anak bawang di "Markas Kandang Sapi" ada juga untungnya. Tentu aku jadi kenal para pentolan aktivis mahasiswa 1980-an dari berbagai kampus. AHD juga sering mengajak kami berkunjung dan berdiskusi dengan aktivis mahasiswa yang lebih senior. Yang paling sering dikunjungi adalah Hariman Siregar di markas Jalan Lautze. Selain diskusi, hal lain yang paling menyenangkan adalah disuguhi gulai kepala ikan kakap dari resto Medan Baru.

Juga para jurnalis terkemuka di masa lalu --seperti Mochtar Lubis dan Aristides Katoppo-- tak lupa disambangi. Yang dibicarakan tak semata soal pengalaman jurnalistik, tapi juga soal-soal politik aktual.

Tapi, yang paling seru, jika di malam hari mengeluarkan sepeda motor Binter Mercy-nya, lantas bilang: "Cok, ikut kau..."

Kalau sudah begini, biasanya yang dikunjungi adalah para narapidana politik atau tokoh-tokoh kiri. Perjalanan naik sepeda motor itu biasanya muter-muter dulu, mungkin untuk mengecoh intel yang mungkin mengikuti.

Pelan tapi pasti, statusku mulai meningkat: dari anak bawang menjadi (salah seorang) asisten AHD. Ketika Yayasan Pijar berdiri, di akhir 1980-an, aktivitas AHD di luar kampus makin intens. Pijar, dimana sosok AHD dominan, segera menjadi salah satu simpul utama jaringan aktivitas mahasiswa masa itu. Selain anak-anak UNAS, di Pijar bergabung juga aktivis dari kampus lain: Rachland Nashidik, Tri Agus Susanto Siswowiharjo, Eddy Junaidi, Lucky Savor dan lain-lain.

Mau tak mau, aktivitas ku sebagai salah satu asisten AHD makin intens. Selain mengkoordinir pelatihan/kursus jurnalistik dan diskusi di kantor Pijar (yang sudah berpindah ke kawasan Cawang, kemudian di Jalan Penggalang, sekitar Jalan Pramuka), juga terlibat dalam aksi-aksi demo jalanan.

Ketika AHD sibuk mengurus persidangan karibnya, Bonar Tigor Naipospos, yang dituduh rezim Orde Baru mengorganisir distribusi buku-buku Pramoedya Ananta Toer yang sudah dinyatakan terlarang oleh rezim Orde Baru, aku juga jadi ikut-ikutan sibuk. Pasalnya, begitu Coki --nama panggilan Bonar Tigor-- ditangkap aparat di Jakarta, AHD memutuskan tinggal di Yogyakarta selama persidangan. Nah, untuk membantunya menangani urusan-urusan sepele --membawa buku-buku titipan buku dari Penerbit Sinar Harapan dan Kompas Gramedia, pakaian, dan sebagainya-- terpaksalah aku yang kerap bolak-balik Jakarta-Yogyakarta.

Imran Hasibuan
Aku baru lepas dari "jeratan" AHD dan Pijar, setelah bekerja sebagai wartawan di majalah Forum Keadilan. Tugasku jadi lebih ringan: mengajar di kursus jurnalistik Pijar (tanpa honor) dan mentraktir ketika gajian. Dan harus siap dipanggil AHD untuk mendengarkan ceramah AHD tentang berbagai gagasannya, kebiasaan di markas Pijar yang masih terus berlanjut. Bedanya kali ini, aku sudah bisa kasih komentar bahkan berdebat. Dan seperti dulu pula, tak semua gagasan AHD sukses dalam pelaksanaannya. Misalnya, lembaga riset dan sejumlah media yang didirikannya bubar di tengah jalan. Bagi AHD, sebuah gagasan yang diyakininya harus diuji dan dikerjakan. Soal sukses atau gagal itu urusan kesekian.

Pikirannya selalu bergerak kesana-kemari, melintas ke berbagai bidang. Ia, misalnya, ikut menggagas pembentukan Indemo. Juga menginisiasi milis grup penggemar Leo Kristi --yang kemudian menjadi LKers. Lantas menggarap produksi pementasan teater Mastodon dan Burung Kondor. Dan masih banyak lagi kegiatan dan institusi lainnya.

Bahkan, ketika dia sudah divonis mengidap sirosis hati kronis, AHD masih terus berpikir dan bergerak. Tak heran, ketika kabar wafatnya AHD beredar 6 Juli 2013, ucapan duka cita ramai melintas di media sosial dari berbagai kalangan.

AHD, Bang Amir, kau layak dikenang. Sampai hari ini pun aku yakin kenangan itu bersemayam di hati dan memori ribuan sahabatmu. Jadi, tersenyumlah kau di sisi Allah.

Sunday, July 01, 2018

Indonesia’s Anti-LGBT Tirade’s Disastrous Impact on Health


Philippa H Stewart
Senior Media Officer
Human Rights Watch

Human Rights Watch report
The men were nearly identically dressed. Matching fresh crewcuts almost hidden under baseball caps pulled down to shade their eyes, pollution masks covering their faces, and matching dark t-shirts.

You would be forgiven for thinking they were on their way to do something illegal, especially if you spoke with them and realized how on edge they were, nervously looking around and stopping their conversation whenever a security guard on his usual patrols came near.

But these men, who work to prevent HIV in vulnerable populations in Jakarta, Indonesia’s capital, were simply meeting the Human Rights Watch researcher Andreas Harsono and cameraman Goen Guy Gunawan for a pre-arranged interview about a new report, “Scared in Public and Now No Privacy,” which looks at the rising anti-LGBT hysteria in Indonesia, and what that means for public health. HIV rates among men who have sex with men in Indonesia have increased five-fold since 2007, from 5 percent to 25 percent. And while the majority of new HIV infections in Indonesia occur through heterosexual transmission, one-third of new infections occur in men who have sex with men.


For over two years now, politicians and government officials in Indonesia have been whipping up the public into an anti-LGBT fury. What started in 2016 as hateful rhetoric has now become violent actions, with raids by police and militant Islamists on places they suspect LGBT people are socializing. This has included raids on everything from gay clubs, to the private homes of suspected lesbians, to waria (transgender women) community events.

The atmosphere of fear and moves to break up safe gathering spaces is having devastating health consequences. HIV outreach workers are struggling to locate the people who need their help – which comes in the form of condom distribution, blood testing, education, and psychological counselling.

The masked men – who asked not to be named to protect their identities – had arranged to meet Harsono outside the now-shuttered T1 nightclub. The men used to work inside and outside the club – giving out condoms and educational pamphlets, and providing some counselling. There was even a mobile clinic where at-risk people could go for blood tests and counselling services.

“It turned out they’d been looking at us from a distance to check us out,” Harsono said. “They had been walking around the area to make sure it was safe.”

When the men eventually approached, they stood out because of their appearance in the business neighborhood where T1 used to be. Harsono took them into a restaurant to shield them. But it was Ramadan, so the two HIV outreach workers did not order food, and the atmosphere remained stressful.

“I was so shocked by their concealed appearance, but of course they were doing it because they were nervous,” Harsono said, adding that it seemed the men were traumatized because hundreds of LGBT people had been arrested in recent raids on nightclubs and in private homes.

“People have been sentenced to 18 to 30 months in prison after being arrested in these raids.”

In 2017, police apprehended at least 300 people perceived to be LGBT – the highest number of such arrests ever recorded in Indonesia. In some cases, if they were carrying condoms, that was used as evidence of homosexuality. That leads people to decide against carrying condoms, which only adds to the HIV epidemic.

When the clubs were open, the outreach workers were easily able to make contact with men at-risk of HIV, but now with the safe spaces shuttered and networks scattered, there are risks of an even bigger spike in HIV rates.

Indonesian authorities are fueling an HIV epidemic through complicity in discrimination against lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) people. The government’s failure to halt arbitrary and unlawful raids by police and militant Islamists on private LGBT gatherings has effectively derailed public health outreach efforts to vulnerable populations. ©Beawiharta/Reuters 2017

The fear the crackdown is causing is palpable. “A security man came by when we were discussing the film shoot, just on his normal rounds, and they were so scared,” Harsono said. “They were terrified he would come over and see them. It says so much about the feeling in Jakarta now.”

The anti-LGBT rhetoric has had a deep impact on society in Indonesia. In a 2016 opinion poll, 26 percent of those interviewed said they didn’t like LGBT people. It was the largest percentage for any group. By 2017, that number was even higher.

“In February 2016 the minister of defense even said the LGBT movement was more dangerous than nuclear war.”

But despite the shrinking space and the very real risk to their safety and freedom, some outreach workers like the two men Harsono spoke to are still trying to make a difference to communities at-risk of HIV.

“They are turning to social networks and the internet,” Harsono said, “I’m really amazed to see how these workers are adapting. They know that they can be arrested, stopped by the police, stopped by security every time they are seen to be chatting with transgender women, but they are courageous and persistent.”