Chapter 57
MELT DOWN IN JAVA
Things were getting very dangerous; Habibie’s government seemed to have lost control. It was time to leave Java and leave fast. It was evident that from the moment the first rock was thrown and car set ablaze, the riots were more than a spontaneous uprising against a president who had overstayed his time.
The country had a history of violence instigated by shadowy figures that were rarely identified. Extremists had launched their call to thousands of reckless young men, many of them members of paramilitary organizations known to foment trouble. Hoodlums, gangsters, paramilitaries, youth groups - call them what you will.
Aris announced his departure to Singapore for urgent business. The hotel was quiet. On the hot, steamy Saturday morning in the middle of May, the parking lot, usually filled with Kijangs, Toyotas and Peugeots, was empty. Outside of the Grand Mosque across the park from the hotel students had gathered for their march.
They sat waiting on the grass or kerbside, made speeches, sang the national anthem, refused to retreat. No politician or military leader was prepared to meet them. Standing on an improvised rostrum, a table forcibly requisitioned from a hawker, between students and police, one of their leaders appealed to the disappointed students not to provoke violence.
At about three the situation seemed to have calmed down. The hotel travel agent called to announce all flights to Singapore were full. Ennis decided to quit the country fast taking advantage of the lull asking them to book him a flight to Bali where the situation was calm, then take a connection to Singapore.
Lines of police faced the students with shields, body protectors and batons, behind was a second line with stun guns and truncheons, and then a third line of soldiers armed with rubber bullets and tear gas. To one side were more soldiers and police on motorbikes and manning armoured vehicles with water cannons.
An hour later the police announced that all negotiations were halted giving the students fifteen minutes to get off the streets. Then a shot was fired in the air. The police charged, lobbing tear gas into the crowd, swinging their batons and then opening fire. The students ran through the clouds of teargas towards the hotel with the police behind them. Ennis watched from his hotel window as more shots rang out.
Some of them managed to get into the lower lobby, fighting back, hurling bottles and rocks at the police, as though the bullets aimed at them were all rubber. The hotel doors were closed and the mob fled to the north.
They heard sporadic shooting that continued for an hour, it was clear that Ennis could not leave the hotel before some kind of calm returned. He took to the bar with Pierre Ros and the few remaining guests who had not left the hotel or who were not barricaded in their rooms. News filtered in of banks being looted, cars burned. A gold store was cleaned out, a food market destroyed.
In the early hours there was news of a fire in a nearby shopping plaza, someone had fired tear gas into the plaza’s lower floor and a man was seen splashing petrol in the entrance and then setting it on fire. Seventy people, many of whom worked in the stores, mostly owned by Chinese, were reported to have been killed in the fire.
Glodok Plaza in the centre of Jakarta’s commercial district, Chinatown, was burnt and looted. The police fired in the air, but the mob ignored them. People carted off computers, refrigerators and television sets.
The next day the smoke over the city had thickened. The international airport was still open but there were road blocks everywhere. Ennis ventured out into the city to check the situation himself, it was impossible to go by car, he tried to make his way by foot accompanied by two uniformed security guards from Aris’s organisation. They had heard that the military controlled the situation. But the absence of security forces on the streets prompted many embassies to issue evacuation orders. Thousands of foreigners, as well as many ethnic Chinese, began fleeing Jakarta.
The midday television news reported mobs attacking and damaging buildings linked to firms controlled by Suharto’s family and friends, as the army stood by watching.
Then the U.S. Embassy in Jakarta said it had approved the departure of dependants of embassy staff whilst the Australian embassy issued a notice advising its nationals residing in Jakarta to stay clear of demonstrations or large crowds.
The television reported the Suharto family had left the country. Soon after, the first Scorpion tanks rolled into the city centre, where the pungent smell of the fires filled the air and a haze hung over the city. Shattered glass, blackened cars, smashed televisions and much more littered the streets. Banks, businesses, government offices and schools were closed, as fire-fighters extinguished blazes at malls, the death toll rose. Fathers looking for their children, wives searching for their husbands arrived at hospitals to identify victims. In most cases the bodies were unrecognizable, and hundreds were buried in mass graves.
The exodus was gathering pace. Thousands of ethnic Chinese Indonesians and foreigners left by air and by sea as Suharto’s former allies started looking for a face-saving way to switch camps. Parliamentary leaders talked of impeachment, a potentially unconstitutional move that threatened to spark a confrontation between the military and Parliament. Then General Wiranto asserted himself, throwing his support behind Habibie, whilst urging him to appoint a new cabinet and announce reforms.
Wiranto told Habibie that the only constitutional way to transfer power was to hold elections. Wiranto made three demands to Habibie; first Wiranto would remain armed forces chief, then Habibie would engage reforms, and finally Wiranto’s opponent General Prabowo be transferred far away from the centre of power.
Meanwhile, the students, emboldened by the Suharto family’s sudden departure, decided to take their protest to the citadel of his power. Hundreds of troops armed with assault rifles and backed by light tanks and armoured personnel carriers patrolled Jakarta.
After Suharto had resigned on national television and asked for forgiveness, Habibie seemed to have hesitated before stepping up to be sworn in as Indonesia’s third president since Independence.
Late that same night, according to a senior military official, Prabowo had appeared at the presidential palace in full battle gear, armed with an automatic pistol and accompanied by truckloads of special Kostrad troops who had stripped off their regimental markings. Prabowo had been there to force Habibie to honour a promise that he would be promoted to army commander.
Habibie announced his cabinet, as students continued to occupy the Parliament, demanding elections. The confrontation was tense, but did not turn violent. By midnight soldiers had cleared Parliament.
The Lost Forest Page 58