A Reflection on Indonesia's Second Presidential Election
By KRISTIA SIANIPAR
A mother of a friend once told of the day it was confirmed that Indonesians could now vote for their president directly. Her Singaporean friend approached her and told her how lucky she—and all other Indonesians—was, perhaps with envy in his tone.
We are indeed lucky.
On the 8th of July, Indonesia saw another direct presidential election.
Much heated debates have occurred between me and my friends about who to vote for, much confusion, changing of decision, persuasion. Perhaps to many, who to vote for has never been quite a question. Of late I have thought of election as a religion—no matter what we hear, we often had made unshakeable decision, perhaps without enough information, and often mocking the little things in those we do not desire. Perhaps as I had thus far chosen my religion, I had likewise casted my vote.
Yet it does not matter who wins. It’s not like there’s any Hitler among the candidates.
I volunteered in the presidential election held in the Indonesian Embassy in Singapore. The remuneration is not that bad, I must say.
Being a volunteer was an eye-opening experience. As I stood in front of the registration queues, I saw people from different walks of life came to take part in this election. Some were older than my own grandpa, some were first-time voters. Some could not even walk and had to be wheel-chaired. Some excitedly ran when the Embassy’s gates were opened. Some queued for hours in the morning so as to vote before they went to their offices. Some came during lunchtime and endured the noon heat. Some came despite the heavy rains. Some came in the midst of their business trips or holidays in Singapore. Some came with nothing but their desire to vote (unfortunately, we still require at least a passport, KTP, or other ID card). Some came in business suits, some in their uniforms, and some others in T-Shirts and jeans. Some did not even look like ordinary Indonesians, or speak the language well, but came with eagerness to take part in this democratic process.
I wondered, why did they come? It was such a hassle to come and vote. "Isn’t it good," my fellow gate keeper commented, "they came to vote despite all the troubles?" I nodded, with gladness. A part of me still couldn’t believe that there were these many Indonesians who took extra efforts—and more!—just to cast their votes, while I know of some able-bodied friends who did not even bother to lift a finger just to vote through post from the comfort of their homes.
At times the queues would be extremely long, and my, traffic control is not easy. I suffered through three rains, scorching heat, and the loss of lots of saliva from screaming Beyonce’s famous "To the left! To the left! Everything you own in the box to the left! I mean, those with the letters from the Embassy, to the left!"
Many voters would complain. Why is the queue so long? Why are we waiting for so long? We brought the letter from Indonesia, why should we be considered as those without letters? Some would cut queue. Some would pretend not to understand what we had explained.
But we would patiently explain. I quite enjoyed the experience. Ouw, and I just found a new talent: screaming! I’m quite good at it.
What I could not stand the most though is those who, pissed off with whatever, would just leave, saying, "It is not our loss if we do not vote." Eiy, Sir, it is no one’s loss if you did not vote—it’s just you, being childish. It’s you who had forsaken your right. It is you who would have no right whatsoever to complain at whatever’s happening in the government if you did not even bother to care a little about the election.
Some would leave without voting seeing the long queue. Hey, Mister, you only dropped sweat and suffered a little aching legs, and you left? Our forefathers dropped BLOOD and LOST their legs for our independence! Others among us lost their lives a decade ago so that we now could enjoy democracy! And you left? Yes, please leave.
Then again, all these people are still better than those who did not even bother to care. At least they came. Ah, I guess that’s the essence of democracy: people choose as they see fit. May soon arrive the day we achieve the maturity and sense of responsibility that should accompany this freedom so as to make democracy powerful.
Seeing the crowd today was heart-warming. Seeing the volunteers was encouraging. And you’d think there’s hope. Despite the fact that those who voted probably made up less than a quarter of the eligible Indonesian voters in Singapore. You’d think there’s a brighter future. Despite the fact that the seemingly would-be losers have started souring over the results.
One thing for sure, eleven years after the historic birth of democracy, Indonesia has come a long way. The election is not perfect, but we have indeed come a long, long way.
Who wins does not matter, really. If all who vied for presidency truly loves this nation, then it does not matter who wins, as those who lose would undoubtedly give their utmost supports to the winner. But who knows the hearts of men? Their motives are shrouded in flowery words and they do not even know the darkness of their own souls.
A quick look at the uncompleted counts from the different posts in Singapore showed clearly that the incumbent is leading way ahead of the other two candidates—taking well above half of the votes. I did not have to wait till the counts were over to know who would win. Indonesians in Singapore have clearly made their choice. And if the quick count is representative of the official count, we would soon see a new Vice President.
The 8th of July reminds me of the day five years ago when the ex-PM of Malaysia mocked "this certain country" for its wild party of democracy and its ridiculous number of parties participating in the election. Eat that, Mr ex-PM. We have overcome and we will continue to improve.
Yes, Mr Winner. Please DO NOT continue it. Improve it.
Kristia Sianipar is an Indonesian professional in Singapore. You can contact her at kristia.sianipar@gmail.com