Jawara in Po w e r , 1999-2007 Okamoto Masaaki and Abdul Hamid1 The fall of Suharto in 1998 and Indonesia's transition from an authoritarian regime to a democratic and decentralized regime was a dramatic change that triggered a great deal of interest among social scientists studying Indonesia. One of the most intriguing topics is the rise of violent groups and organizations at the local level.2 Transitions from one regime to another are often characterized by social instability and insecurity, and such conditions may allow the rise of groups and organizations that use violence to achieve their goals. They may take the form of vigilante groups intent on defending their ethnic- or religious-based communities, or the form of gangsters' organizations that make the most of local insecurity to expand their socio-economic and political power. For example, post-authoritarian Russia was characterized by the socio­ economic emergence of violent entrepreneurs.3 In the case of Indonesia, the revolutionary period from 1945 to 1949, especially 1945-1946, was likewise an era 1 This article is based on research conducted under the aegis of JSPS-NRCT Core University Program. We deeply appreciate the referees' comments and the editors' persistent efforts to improve the article. 2 There are several studies on these groups and organizations. On the rising militias in North Sulawesi Province, Indonesia, see Michael Jacobsen, "To Be or What to Be—That is the Question,"Southeast Asia Research Center Working Paper Series, No. 29 (Hong Kong: City University of Hong Kong, 2002), pp. 1-30. On the Jakarta-based FBR (Forum Betawi Rumpug, Betawi Brotherhood Forum) and FPI (Front Pembela Islam, the Defenders of Islam Front), see Ian Douglas Wilson, "Continuity and Change: The Changing Contours of Organized Violence in Post-New Order Indonesia," Critical Asian Studies 38,2 (2006): 265-97. Also on FBR, see Untung Widyanto, "Antara Jago dan Preman: Studi Tentang Habitus Premanisme pada Organisasi Forum Betawi Rumpug (FBR)" (Master's thesis, University of Indonesia, 2005). On several emerging "security" groups and organizations, see Kelompok Kekerasan dan Bos Lokal di Era Reformasi, ed. Abdur Rozaki and Okamoto Masaaki (Yogyakarta: IRE Press, 2006). 3 See Vadim Volkov, Violent Entrepreneurs: The Use of Force in the Making of Russian Capitalism (Ithaca, NY, and London: Cornell University Press, 2002). Indonesia 86 (October 2008) 110 Okamoto Masaaki and Abdul Hamid marked by the activities of autonomous jago, or bandits. The jago sometimes successfully seized social and even political power at local levels. For example, during the revolutionary period, in Kerawang district, one jago called Boebar seized the office of district head (bupati) and installed himself as bupati. In Tangerang district, the people (rakyat) rose up and the father of rakyat (Bapak Rakyat) expelled the Tangerang bupati, R.A. Padmanegara, from office and established his own government. Usually, their autonomy relative to the state didn't last long, however, and the state reasserted control, forcing the jagos to cooperate or putting them under tight controls and limiting their political exposure to the public.4 A decade has passed since the fall of Indonesia's authoritarian Suharto regime, and violent groups in the nation have prospered. This does not mean that Indonesia is on the verge of collapse and should be considered a failing or failed state.5 On the contrary, Indonesia is becoming more stable, for the activities of private security providers (such as jago or jawara, as explained below) do not directly lead to ethnic and religious violent conflicts, even though these actors tend to be violent and to disperse violence throughout the country.6 The fact that the state is no longer the sole authority, 4 There are several studies on jago in Java. On the jago during the colonial period, see Ong Hok Ham, "The Inscrutable and the Paranoid: An Investigation into the Sources of the Brotodiningrat Affair," in Southeast Asian Transitions: Approaches through Social History, ed. Ruth McVey (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1978). Also see Ong Hok Ham, "The Jago in Colonial Java: An Ambivalent Champion of the People," in History and Peasant Consciousness in South East Asia, ed. A. Turton and S. Tanabe Senri (Osaka: National Museum of Ethnology, 1984). See also Henk Schulte Nordholt, "The Jago in the Shadow: Crime and 'Order' in the Colonial State in Java," trans. Ernst van Lennep, RIMA 25,1 (Winter, 1991): 74—92. On the revolutionary period, for example, see Julianto Ibrahim, Bandit dan Pejuang di Simpang Bengawan: Kriminalitas dan Kekerasan Masa Revolusi di Surakarta (Wonogiri: Bina Citra Pustaka, 2004). On the blater (thugs) in Madura, see Abdur Rozaki, Menabur Kharisma Menuai Kuasa: Kiprah Kiai dan Blater sebagai Rezim Kembar di Madura (Yogyakarta: IRE Press, 2004). On the jawara in Banten, see Sartono Kartodirdjo, The Peasants' Revolt of Banten in 1888: Its Condition, Course and Sequel—A Case Study of Social Movements in Indonesia (s-Gravenhage: Martinus Nijhoff, 1966); Michale C. Williams, Communism, Religion, and Revolt in Banten (Athens, OH: Ohio University Center for International Studies, 1990); M.A. Tihami, "Kiyai dan Jawara di Banten" (Master's thesis, University of Indonesia, 1992); and Ian Douglas Wilson, "The Politics of Inner Power: The Practice of Pencak Silat in West Java" (PhD dissertation, Murdoch University, 2002). 5 In 2002, Robert I. Rotberg categorized Indonesia as "another example of weakness avoiding failure despite widespread insecurity" and "a state that is designated weak but that encompasses and spreads into the category of failure—the precursor to true failure." See Robert I. Rotberg, "The New Nature of Nation-State Failure," The Washington Quarterly (Summer 2002): 85-96. On the other hand, Michael Malley contends that the country's conditions are less dire than popularly believed: "...Indonesia appears vulnerable and weak, but hardly failing, let alone failed or collapsed." See Michael Malley, "Indonesia: The Erosion of State Capacity" in State Failure and State Weakness in a Time of Terror, ed. Robert I. Rotberg (Washington, DC: Brookings Institution Press, 2003), p. 183. Malley mentions three factors that moderate the impact of political and economic challenges that arose in 1997-1998 (i.e., the unchallenged state's territorial claims, the relatively good socio-economic conditions, and international support for Indonesia's territorial integrity as well as political and economic reform), but he misses the fact that the political oligarchs in Golkar (the ruling party) preempted the institutional reform of political systems from the authoritarian to the democratic, and that this preemption alleviated the radicalization of the political movements. On the internal dynamics within Golkar during the critical period 1997-1999, from the perspective of an insider, see Akbar Tandjung, The Golkar Way: Survival Partai Golkar di Tengah Turbulensi Politik Era Transisi (Jakarta: Gramedia Pustaka Utama, 2007). Akbar Tanjung proudly emphasized how successfully he and other Golkar cadres kept Golkar alive and paved the way for democratization in a "moderate" way. 6 "Jawara" is the local term for thugs. During the Dutch colonial period, jawara operated as a kind of rural strongman or "man of prowess" living in and around villages in Banten. They were skilled in Indonesian traditional martial arts called pencak silat. Some were even believed to possess magical powers (ilmu). Jawara were part village security and part outlaw. They inhabited the underground world of bandits and thieves, and were often involved in criminal activities such as robbery and extortion. Their ambivalent Jawara in Power 111 the single coercive force, and the chief stake-holder in Indonesia has not led to the chaos some might have predicted. The state has changed its stance toward private forces7 and has delegated wider authority to private forces than before, not only because of the state's reduced capability to maintain order in a tumultuous society, but also because of the government's changing paradigm vis-a-vis security, which I explain later. This change enables several locally entrenched violent groups and organizations to continue to wield their socio-economic and political influences, and in many cases the individuals controlling them have shrewdly transformed themselves into powerful local oligarchs. Those powerful local oligarchs are not as strong and independent as journalists' stories of Raja Kecil (small king) depict, however. Just after the introduction of democratization and decentralization, many articles stressed the rise of Raja Kecils, who were said to be autonomous from the central government and who had reportedly entrenched themselves in their own bailiwicks. Unfortunately, those researchers paid less attention to the limits or the circumscription of local power. In fact, the local heads in Indonesia are not typically formidable warlords, and they are not entirely autonomous. The central government sometimes intervenes in local politics using its legal and political power if major state stakes are highly threatened or local politics become too chaotic or corrupt. The local oligarchs can be targeted for investigation and arrest if they don't obtain the strong and multilateral political support of actors within the central government. The World Bank report entitled "Fighting Corruption in Decentralized Indonesia" (Memerangi Korupsi di Indonesia yang Terdesentralisasi), May 2007, detailed the data on corruption cases brought against local parliament (Dewan Perwikilan Rakyat Daerah, DPRD) members and the local heads of districts and cities. Based on the data from all the high public prosecutors' offices from 2002 to September 2006, there were 265 corruption cases against DPRD members. Moreover, twenty-nine provincial public prosecutors' offices handled cases that named 967 DPRD members as suspects, the accused, or the condemned. During the same period, permits were issued to investigate 327 provincial DPRD members and 735 district or municipal DPRD members. There were also forty-six corruption cases involving sixty-three local heads as either suspects, the accused, or the condemned. Based on the data from the department of home affairs during 2004 to early 2006, permits were issued to investigate seven governors and sixty bupati/mayors or vice bupati/mayors.8 For example, as of September 2007, the governor in East Kalimantan was in jail and two status in society, plus their physical and "magical" abilities, gave them informal social and political power. See Okamoto Masaaki, "An Unholy Alliance: Political Thugs and Political Islam Work Together in Banten," Inside Indonesia 93 (August-October 2008), viewed at http: / / insideindonesia.org/content/ view/1101 /47/ on September 29, 2008. 7 To some it may sean strange that private forces of any kind are given power, but both their existence and influence are considered normal in Indonesia. Private forces' core manbers often have strong relationships with official "security" organizations, such as the police and military, while the groups' commonmanbers are recruited from among the poor. The existence of private security forces has been ensured because the police and military forces continue to use than as security enforcers and because they fulfill a generally useful role within society. 8 Taufik Rinaldi, Marini Purnomo, and Dewi Damayanti, "Memerangi Korupsi di Indonesia yang Terdesentralisasi: Studi Kasus Penanganan Korupsi Pemerintahan Daerah," Justice for the Poor Project, Bank Dunia, 2007, p. 2. 112 Okamoto Masaaki and Abdul Hamid governors in East Nusa Tenggara and West Kalimantan had been interrogated as suspects. Bupati in Kutai, Garut, and Kendal and mayors in Kendari, Medan, and Kupang had been interrogated as suspects. The arrest of Syaukani, bupati of Kutai district, in East Kalimantan, and one of Indonesia's leading local oligarchs, clearly demonstrated the limited autonomy of local oligarchs.9 In addition, many local governments are not resource rich, and therefore some local oligarchs depend on rents from the central government to ensure their own politico-economic power, and in that sense they are local rent-seekers who are often limited by the central government.10 This paper analyzes the fluctuating relationship between the central government and local violent oligarchs, focusing on Banten, Indonesia. It is in the Banten area that a violent local oligarch has most successfully entrenched himself economically and politically, at least until now. There are area-specific reasons for this success. First of all, the Banten area is located in the vicinity of the capital, Jakarta, and, therefore, security is quite important and private security providers can flourish in collaboration with the police and military. The local oligarch has organized these private security providers. Second, jago and jawara in the Banten area have used coercive force to gain social influence and to secure local political power during a time marked by disturbances. Third, the Banten region is just far enough from Jakarta to have poverty-stricken areas. As such, it is unattractive to competent intellectuals and businessmen, who can choose to live elsewhere. The result is the absence of an intellectual middle class, the presence of which could effectively restrain the success of violent rent-seekers. There are already several case studies on the Banten area, such as the works of Syarif Hidayat (on Tuan Besar) and Lili Romli (on "bossism plus").11 In our opinion, 9 Syaukani was sentenced to six years in prison and forced to forfeit around 50 billion rupiah for his role in three corruption cases (involving the equilibrium fund, land acquisition for Loa Kul airport, and social-aid monies). The Golkar party didn't give Syaukani any clear political help even though he was one of its leading figures in the province. See "MA Vonis Syaukani Enam Tahun," Kompas.com, viewed at www.kompas.com/read/ xml/ 2008/07/29/00512211 /ma.vonis.syaukani.enam.tahun on October 14, 2008. 10 Wahyu Prasetyawan aptly describes the importance of the political network of local elites to the central government, focusing on the resource-rich areas and on conflicts concerning the control of state-owned natural resources. Actually, the political networks linking regions to the central government are also important in many areas where the natural resources are scarce and revenues from those sources minimal. In such places, the rents received from central and local governments provide vital revenues. See Wahyu Prasetyawan, "Government and Multinationals: Conflict over Economic Resources in East Kalimantan, 1998-2003," Southeast Asian Studies 43,2 (September 2005): 161-90; and Wahyu Prasetyawan, "The Unifinished Privitization of the Semen Padang: The Structure of Political Economy in Post-Suharto Indonesia," Indonesia 81 (April 2006): 51-70. 11 See Syarif Hidayat, "'Shadow State'?: Business and Politics in the Province of Banten," in Local Power and Politics in Indonesia: Decentralisation and Democratisation, ed. Edward Aspinall and Greg Fealy (Singapore: ISEAS, 2003), pp. 203-24; and Lili Romli, "jawara dan Penguasa Lokal di Provinsi Banten (2001-2006)" (PhD dissertation, University of Indonesia, 2007). Lili Romli added the term "plus" to Sidel's "bossism" to help describe the local politics in Banten because, according to Lili Romli, the jawara controls not only public servants but also civil society (p. 258). In our opinion, Sidel's concept of "bossism" is that the predatory nature of local strongmen in the Philippines is caused by the nature of the Filipino state and "bossism" emphasizes the irrelevance of the framework of patron-client relationships to explain local politics in the Philippines. In that sense, it is not correct to extend Sidel's argument of bossism this way. The local strongman's control of civil society is part of Sidel's concept of "bossism." And furthermore, as Jawara in Power 113 these works put too much emphasis on the autonomous hegemony of one local oligarch, Chasan Sochib, and tend to ignore the fragile aspect of his political base, especially after the introduction in 2006 of direct regional-head elections. Instead, this paper will examine Chasan Sochib's susceptibility and vulnerability both to the central government and to demands from his own constituency; it will also explore his ideology and his strategy to maintain and reinforce his fragile power base. His nationalist ideology serves him well because it allows the central government to support him for achieving and maintaining Banten's political stability. The Banten area is located at the western tip of Java Island. Serang city, the provincial capital of Banten province, is about a two-hour drive from Jakarta. The Banten area separated from West Java province in 2000 and became a separate province with a population of about eight million persons. Based on the 2000 census, 95.7 percent of the total population are Muslim and 46.9 percent consider themselves to be ethnic Bantenese. The Banten area is largely composed of two parts (see map on the next page). The northern area has been settled mainly by ethnic Javanese and the southern area mainly by ethnic Sundanese. The northern area is where the jawara are concentrated, and they supported the communist uprising in 1926. The two areas' dividing line is around the subdistricts of Ciomas and Pabuaran; these subdistricts are Sundanese-speaking and famous for their ulama (Islamic preachers) and jawara.12 Chasan came from this area. The political, economic, social, and cultural center of Banten has always been in the north and the north dominates the south. But interestingly, there appears to be no history or record of friction between the two language groups, their regional identity as Bantenese being the stronger factor.13 Therefore, despite all their differences, both those living in the northern and southern parts of Banten jointly decided to call themselves Bantenese and to have their own province of Banten, an effort that was finally realized in 2000. Administratively, Banten province is composed of three cities (Serang, Cilegon, and Tangerang) and four kabupaten, or regencies (Serang, Lebak, Pandeglang, and Tangerang). The northern and eastern parts of the province—that is Cilegon city, Serang city, the northern part of Serang district, and Tangerang city and district—are industrial areas. The southern part of the province that includes Lebak, Pandeglang, and the southern part of Serang district are poor, agricultural areas. Many pesantren (Islamic boarding schools) exist, especially in the southern regions. The ulama in pesantren function as informal leaders, as do the jawara. As noted earlier, jawara are rural strongmen or semi-socially embedded men of prowess who are skillful in pencak we mentioned, Chasan's controlling power is not so strong enough against the central government and the civil society. 12 M. A. Tihami, "Kiyai dan Jawara di Banten" (Master's thesis, University of Indonesia, 1992), pp. 30-32, 50. 13 Michael C. Williams, Communism, Religion, and Revolt in Banten (Athens, OH: Ohio University Center for International Studies, 1990), p. 2. One exceptional case was the movement to establish a South Banten province in 2002. After the Banten province was established, Uwes Qorni, one of the staunch southern supporters of the new Banten province, was quite disappointed with the dominant role of the northern elite in the provincial administration and the provincial development projects, and so he pressed for the establishment of an independent southern province. But after his death, the movement to establish a South Banten province ceased. "Isu Provinsi Banten Selatan Menguat," Harian Banten, February 16, 2002. 114 Okamoto Masaaki and Abdul I lamid silat (Indonesian traditional martial arts), and some are believed to have magical power, called ilmu.14 15 Jawara partly live in the underground world and are often involved in criminal activities.|S This ambiguous social status and their physical and alleged magical powers give them social standing. They were initially identified in Java in the early nineteenth century. Banten Province Historical Encounter of the State with the Javanese Underground In the early nineteenth century, Bantenese jawara were known to the Dutch colonial bureaucrats, and the Banten area was notoriously insecure.16 During the nineteenth century, Banten was one of the most restless areas of Dutch-ruled Java. In the period 1810-1870 alone, no fewer than nineteen uprisings are recorded to have taken place there.17 In Java, the business of a thief is an occupation which is a part of the municipal service, which provides many people with a job, some with an investment, and which provides many benefits to its protectors ... No desa [village] headman 14 "Ilmu" is of Arabic origin and has two meanings. One is "science" or "knowledge" and the other is "supernatural knowledge." Within the Banten context, the meaning of ilmu is "supernatural knowledge." 15 Masaaki, "An Unholy Alliance." 16 Williams, Coininnnivin, Religion, and Revolt in Banten, pp. 45-47. 17 Ibid., p. 79. jawara in Power 115 considers his desa complete and in good order if it does not have at least one thief—often several who are under the command of the oldest or cleverest thief, who is called Djago ...18 The above report, which we find fascinating, was written in 1872 by a private tobacco planter at Kediri. He sketched a situation of the Javanese countryside where cattle rustling, intimidation, arson, land-tax fraud, and physical violence occurred daily and where the colonial administration had lost its grip completely. In colonial Banten, the main actors were jawara. As mentioned above, jawara have a kind of social power that allows them sometimes to violate community rules and (threaten to) use force as necessary. Some of them ripped off the "security" fees or land fees from the gambling dens and brothels, or were engaged in criminal activities or activities that were "almost" crimes, such as mooching and blackmailing. Jawara have been responsible for rustling and selling cattle through their own region-wide network. Others became "security providers" for villages as valets for the respective village heads, or they themselves became village heads. From the early nineteenth century onwards, the Dutch colonial state started to expand its power down to the village level in Java. The opium farm revenue system operated by Chinese entrepreneurs developed hand-in-hand with the official bureaucracy and initiated widespread cooperation between village heads and jago, or jagabaya (the local Javanese term for a bandit). Village heads had become terminal bureaucrats rather than influential community leaders. These village heads drew their authority from the Dutch colonial state by being recognized officially as the "formal" leaders of the village, and they exploited the villagers by demanding tax and corvee labor at the request of the Dutch colonial state. The village heads thereby strengthened and centralized their own and the Dutch power in the villages. Some jago or jagabaya came to serve the "formal" village heads and helped them collect tax by intimidation and violence, while other jago gained power by assisting the Chinese opium farmers in colonial Java.19 A network of cooperation and tolerant relationships among village heads, jago, and the central government are generally understood to have linked the Dutch colonial state and villages in Java. The history in the Banten area was a little bit different, however. The consolidation and centralization of power under village heads was only partially successful in the Banten area20 because the colonial opium cultivation system—typically, a key element in the consolidation and centralization of power at the local level—never took root in that region.21 The Banten area was closed for opium sales and did not host an official opium farm.22 As a result, conspicuous power sharing 18 See Nordholt, "The Jago in the Shadow: Crime and 'Order' in the Colonial State in Java," pp. 74—91. 19 For a definitive description of the opium farming system in colonial Java, see James R. Rush, Opium to Java: Revenue Farming and Chinese Enterprise in Colonial Indonesia, 1860-1910 (Ithaca, NY, and London: Cornell University Press, 1990). 20Uemura Yasuo, "19 Seiki Kohan—20 Seiki Shotou Jawa Madura no Desa Schuchou no Shakaiteki Chii wo Megutte [On the Social Status of the Desa Head in Java and Madura in the End of the Nineteenth Century to the Early Twentieth Century]," Toyoshi Kenkyu (Oriental Studies) 47,3 (1988): 86-87. 21 Fujita Eri, "Shokuminchiki Jawa no Chourou to Banten Sonraku [The Influential Persons and the Bantenese Villages in Colonial Java]," Shigaku Kenkyu (Historical Studies), 234 (2001): 39—42. 22 Rush, Opium to Java, p. 27. 116 Okamoto Masaaki and Abdul Hamid between the formal leaders and informal leaders persisted in Banten, and the state's penetration into society was weak, for it had no motive to exert control over private violence in that region. For this reason, jawara continued to exist in the Banten area as an independent and influential social power, along with ulama, even into the twenty-first century. In the late nineteenth century, an anti-colonial struggle called the Cilegon rebellion erupted in Banten. Jawara and ulama fought together against the Dutch colonial forces. In the 1920s, when the communist party expanded its influence rapidly, some Bantenese jawara again allied with ulama and joined the party to resist the Dutch. The Bantenese branch of the Indonesian communist party even established a jawara section and ulama section.23 After the Japanese occupation ended in 1945, a power vacuum emerged. Even though Sukarno and Hatta immediately declared the independence of the Republic of Indonesia, the republic had no substance, and in many places order disintegrated. In the case of the Banten area, the disruption of order was followed by a social revolution that incited ethnic and class conflict. The Dutch colonial regime and the Japanese military regime had elevated outside elites to be Banten's top bureaucrats. The majority of them were Sundanese from the Priangan area, who frequently found it difficult to adjust to their new posting because of its profoundly Islamic atmosphere and the lack of formal respect shown to them. This difficulty prompted these ruling elites to coin the term "Banten bantahan" (recalcitrant or obstinate Banten).24 On the other hand, the Bantenese were unhappy with being ruled by outsiders and harbored xenophobic feelings. Therefore, the end of the Japanese occupation provided jawara and ulama the opportunity to lead an uprising to force the Sundanese bureaucrats from power and grab the "formal" power for themselves.25 The social and political turbulence moved jawara and ulama onto the political stage. But the takeover of the local state by informal leaders did not last long. When the Indonesian state seized sovereignty from the Dutch in 1949 and started to construct the new nation, jawara were ousted from their upper-level bureaucratic positions. Many of them rejoined the criminals' underworld. Jawara in the New Order26 The state became strong again with the rise of Suharto as president in the mid-1960s, after a long period when the state had been relatively weak. The notorious September 30 affair in 1965 initiated the new era, as the military, led by Suharto, began rounding up purported enemies of the state, and military and Islamic activists killed 23 Williams, Communism, Religion, and Revolt in Banten, p. 196. 24 Ibid., pp. 68-70. 25 Ibid., pp. 275-309; Okamoto Masaaki, "Kakumeiki wo Ikinuita Shokuminchi Kizoku Kanryoutachi (Pangreh Praja): Indonesia Nishi Jawa Shuu no Baai (The Colonial Aristocratic Bureaucrats [Pangreh Praja] Surviving the Revolution: The Case of West Java, Indonesia)," Southeast Asian Studies 38,2 (2000): 211-12. 26 Part of this section comes from Okamoto Masaaki, "Local Politics in Decentralized Indonesia: The Governor General of Banten Province," HAS Newsletter 34 (July 2004): 23; and Okamoto Masaaki, "Indonesia niokeru Chiho Seiji no Kasseika to Shuu 'Soutoku' no Tanjo: Banten Chiho no Seiji: 1998-2003 [Activated Local Power Politics in Indonesia and the Birth of a Provincial 'Governor-General': Politics in the Banten Area, 1998-2003]," Southeast Asian Studies 34,1 (June 2005): 3-25. Jawara in Power 117 approximately 500,000 "communists" and arrested around a million more.27 From that time, the authoritarian Suharto regime started to control Indonesian society using both the carrot and the stick. The state was omnipresent. Jawara and ulama in Banten soon became the targets of these efforts to regain control. Banten's New Order regime cemented the ethnic divide between rulers and the ruled, which had its roots in the Dutch colonial period. Mainly Sundanese from the Priangan area held the important administrative and military positions of bupati, regional secretary, and district military commander. For example, twelve out of seventeen bupatis in Serang, Lebak, and Pandeglang from 1970 to 1998 were non-Bantenese (with the ethnic identity of one of the seventeen being unknown).28 A small number of Bantenese obtained relatively high bureaucratic positions; just 10 percent of middle-level bureaucratic positions in Serang district in the late 1990s were held by native Bantenese.29 Bantenese informal leaders—ulama and jawara—were co-opted into the political machines of the governing party, Golkar (Golongan Karya, Functional Groups), in the early 1970s. Ironically, the New Order government followed the example of the Banten section of the 1920s communist party in organizing two social powers. In 1971 ulama were organized into the Ulama Work Squad (SatKar Ulama) and local jawara were organized into the Martial Artist Work Squad (SatKar Pendekar) in 1972; this group was subsequently renamed the Indonesian Union of Bantenese Men of Martial Arts, Art, and Culture (Persatuan Pendekar Persilatan Seni Budaya Banten Indonesia, PPPSBBI). The 122 PPPSBBI-affiliated silat schools in Banten were mobilized to support Golkar during the election, alongside the military and police. Chasan Sochib, who often said, "I am a jawara [saya seorang jawara],"30 was the jawara who became the SatKar Pendekar's general chairman and one of the executive committee members of the SatKar Ulama. He acted as a bridge between the military, bureaucracy, and Golkar, and to Banten's society, including the underground (criminal) world. According to Chasan, three thousand jawara serve him and are on standby at all times.31 Chasan Sochib: Product of the New Order Chasan was born in Serang regency in 1930. He attended a pesantren before joining a guerrilla warfare unit during the revolutionary period. His job experience, starting with logistic support for the Siliwangi military division, began in 1967. Two years later he founded a construction company, CV Sinar Ciomas, later PT Sinar Ciomas Raya, which frequently won government contracts for road and market construction projects, 27 The actual numbers of those killed, arrested, and detained remain unknown. According to different sources, the death toll varies from 78,000 to a million, and the number of those arrested varies from 600,000 to 1,700,000. See Robert Cribb, ed., The Indonesian Killings: Pembantaian PKI di Jawa dan Bali 1965-1966 (Yogyakarta: Mata Bangsa, 2000), pp. 23-25, 78-79. 28 Masaaki, "Indonesia niokeru Chiho Seiji no Kasseika to Shuu 'Soutoku' no Tanjo: Banten Chiho no Seiji: 1998-2003," p. 9. 29 Interview with Rush Ridwan on May 4, 2000. Rush Ridwan was the regional secretary of Cilegon city from 2000 to 2005 and, at this writing, has been vice mayor of Cilegon since 2005. 30 "Putri Gubernur Jenderal di Tampuk Daerah," Tempo 9 (December 2007), p. 34. 31 "Tubagus 'Abah' Chasan Sochib: Saya Memang Gubernur Jenderal," Mimbar Daerah 1,9 (November 17-23, 2003). 118 Okamoto Masaaki and Abdul Hamid such as the Rau Market construction project and road building projects in Bekasi district and Karawang district. His involvement spread to the Krakatau Steel State Company, the largest steel company in Southeast Asia, and into tourism and real estate. He also held key positions in associations such as the Regional and Central Chambers of Commerce and Trade (Kamar Dagang dan Industri, Kadin) and the Indonesian National Contractors' Association (Gabungan Pelaksana Konstruksi Nasional Indonesia, Gapensi), putting his men on these associations' executive committees at the local level. Certifications from Kadin and Gapensi are necessary for government procurement. Chasan used this requirement to coordinate projects in the Banten area. Coordination brought him more money and economic power. Kartiwa Supriatna, a resident (vice governor) of West Java province in charge of the Banten area in 1976-1983, attested to Chasan's project-coordinating skills at that time and thus his ability to amass social prestige and wealth.32 With his coordinating and enforcing power in hand, both the jazoara under his control and his other followers became his (sub)contractors and received a share of his profits or became bureaucrats. For example, Embay Mulya Syarif, who later became critical of Chasan, was helped by him and became a cadre of Gapensi and the head of Kadin in Serang district. The one-time (2000) secretary general of PPPSBBI headquarters, Kasmiri Assabudu, owned a construction company, Bunda.33 Uci Sanusi, another contractor associated with Chasan, later became a local parliamentarian in the district. The present secretary general of PPPSBBI in Serang district, Mas Santoso, joined the local bureaucracy and later became head of Serang district's sanitation department.34 Chasan's activities were not limited to the jawara and business worlds. He was one of the founders of a private university and the Banten Museum, and he remains the head of the Serang branch of Generation '45 (a committee for former members of Indonesia's independence forces). Chasan became influential in many aspects of Bantenese life and played a role as interlocutor for Jakarta and Bandung; outsiders appointed as top bureaucrats relied on him and his network as a bridge to the Bantenese world. The locally stationed police and army officers had a close relationship with him. Chasan's and the PPPSBBI's ideologies are quite nationalistic, and he boasted that PPPSBBI was the only NGO that "protected [the people], defending the state and nation" and also "defending the police" and "defending the military."35 Chasan even went so far as to say that 32 Interview with Kartiwa Supriatna on December 8, 2003. 33 Khatib Mansur, Profit Haji Tubagus Chasan Sochib beserta Komentar 100 Tokoh Masyarakat Seputer Pendekar Banten (Jakarta: Pustaka Antara Utama, 2000), pp. 208-9. 34 Chasan's nurturing of his proteges went on for years. Consider the case of Danu Ahmad, who became the head of Gapensi in Serang district in 2000. When he was twenty years old in 1977, Chasan interviewed him and asked whether he could read, write, and do math (calculations). Despite answering yes, Danu Ahmad became a sort of personal valet to Chasan, attending to his hygiene and wardrobe. Two years later Danu became Chasan's confidant. Several months later he was given a check worth 15 million rupiah as a retirement allowance and told to go start a new business. Danu Ahmad thereupon established a construction company, Danu ATSS Perkasa. Ibid., pp. 168-70. 35 Ibid., p. 89.