Tag Archive: pelanggaran HAM

Six months after the collapse of the New Order regime in May 1998, students and civil society groups took to the streets to protest against the Special Session of the People’s Consultative Assembly, calling it unconstitutional and  a way to preserve the status quo. The protests soon turned into what will later be called the “Semanggi Tragedy”, named after the four-leaf clover junction near the epicenter of the event, when authorities began shooting at the protesters.  At the nearby Atmajaya University, several protesters were shot dead, including one of its students Bernadus Realino Norma Irmawan or Wawan.

The death of Wawan and his fellow protesters caused a deep grief to their families, but it has also ignited perhaps the longest-running campaign for justice for victims of human rights abuses in Indonesia.  Since January 18, 2007, families of those killed in the shooting has gathered every Thursday in front of the Presidential Palace to remind people of the severe human rights violations that took place then, and to urge fair trial and punishment for those responsible for these events.

Maria Katarina Sumarsih, 65, remembers the moment that changed her life forever like it was yesterday. On the evening of November 13, 1998, a Friday, Sumarsih, her husband, her sibling, and her in-laws rushed to Rumah Sakit Jakarta, the hospital nearest the site of the shooting, after receiving a call informing her that Wawan had been shot. Upon arriving, they were told to look for him in the basement, where the morgue is usually located. There they found some caskets lined up, and in one of them was Wawan’s body.

In her grief, she wanted desperately to bring her son’s remains home, but Chief Investigator at Jakarta Military Police Wempi Hapan asked that the body be autopsied at the state-owned Cipto Mangunkusumo Hospital (RSCM). Though Sumarsih was hesitant at first, she eventually agreed after being told that an autopsy was akin to a small procedure.

With the protests and the shooting still ongoing, the trip to RSCM was rough. “The ambulance driver repeatedly shouted, ‘Get your head down! Get your head down! They’re shooting  at us’,” she recalled.

Later the forensic doctor concluded that Wawan was shot with a sharp bullet that is the standard ammunition of the Indonesia National Armed Forces (TNI). The rest was history.

It took awhile before Sumarsih could overcome her grief. For several days she could not eat. She took three months off from work at the Secretariat of the House of Representatives. Until today, she still hasn’t regained her appetite for rice. But one habit that she continues to do these days is laying out a plate, fork, spoon and glass at the dining table, as if her son Wawan would join them for meal.

Since that day, Sumarsih has been trying to seek justice. In early January 2007, she and other family members of human rights abuse victims in a group called  Solidarity of Victims for Justice Network (JSKK) agreed to hold a “silent protest” every Thursday at 4-5 p.m. This later became known as “Thursday Movement” (Aksi Kamisan or just Kamisan).


Pictures of Wawan

Kamisan was inspired by a similar movement of Argentinian mothers who used to stage rallies at Plaza De Mayo, the main square at Buenos Aires across the Presidential Palace. The women were demanding investigations into the disappearance of their children and husbands under the military dictatorship regime of Jorge Videla.

In the last nine years the Thursday Movement has provided a place to channel the voice of families of victims of other human rights abuses perpetrated by the State, from forced evictions, persecuted religious minorities, to LGBT community. Every week, the movement is participated by about 70 people, each carrying a black umbrella calling for justice for the different cases.

“Umbrella symbolizes protection,” she said, adding that the Presidential Palace was chosen as a venue because it represents power.

“If we cannot get protection from the country in this world, we’ll get it from God. If we cannot have justice in this world, we’ll have it from God.”

Black represents her undying love for Wawan: “I love him though he had passed away. My love for him is the same as my love for other victims. Our grief has been transformed into courage to uphold the law and human rights.”


Sumarsih (standing in the middle) in Kamisan

Kamisan has received the attentions of many people, with some providing helps to them. One civil society organization routinely gave transportation fund for families of the victims. Others express their sympathies by donating food and drinks.

There are the occasional critics, however.

“A reporter once asked us why we let the victims of the 1965 events join us,” Sumarsih recalled, citing the year when the violent purge of communist sympathizers by the State that led to the death of hundreds of thousands in Indonesia began.

“I told the reporter that this movement has nothing to do with ideology. It’s purely about humanity.”

Sumarsih’s family is very supportive of the movement. Her husband Arief Priyadi is a scholar at the Centre for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) and before the Kamisan started, he was also involved in the advocacy for the shooting victims, though currently his work schedule prevented him from active involvement.

Since it started, Kamisan has only been accepted by one president, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, in 2008. In fact, since November last year, the movement has started to feel the squeeze, with police forcing them to disperse. A couple of times the activists were allowed to stay after they negotiated with the police.

She recalled what happened at a recent Kamisan in early January: “Right after we opened our umbrellas, the police began coming at us from right, left, and back. They were instructed to take us, though that didn’t happen.”

She would’ve liked to be taken to the police station, she said. At least there the group would have the police’s ear with the hope that what they demanded would eventually reach the President. The police have a reason to disperse them, she said. Article 9, Law No. 9, 1998 about Freedom of Expression in Public rules that a public protest must be conducted at a minimum of 100 meters distance from the fence of the presidential palace. But this law was never really enforced before.

“Yes, I break the rule that says protests must be at least 100 meters away from the fence, but the government broke the law by killing my son,” she would tell the police.



Despite the challenges and obstacles, Sumarsih doesn’t let them discourage her.

“Sometimes I feel pessimistic about our fight, because it is exhausting to keep on going. But I place my hope in Jokowi, because he has committed to resolving human rights abuse cases and ending impunity,” she said, referring to President Joko Widodo by his popular moniker.

“In his speech on December 10, 2015, the President said that taking steps of reconciliation as well as taking judicial and non-judicial measures requires courage, breakthrough and improvement for the better. This gives me hopes,” she added.

aksi kamisan 9 tahun

Ninth Years of Kamisan

This story has been published in magdalene.co ,  you can see the original version in Indonesian here . All pictures are mine, except the last picture.



Tanggal 30 Agustus diperingati sebagai Hari Internasional Bagi Para Korban Penghilangan Paksa. Secara singkat penghilangan paksa terjadi ketika seseorang diculik atau ditahan oleh institusi negara atau organisasi politik atau pihak ke-3 dengan persetujuan dan dukungan negara atau organisasi politik, diikuti oleh penolakan untuk mengakui nasib dan keberadaan orang tersebut.

Menjelang kejatuhan presiden Suharto (1997-1998), terjadi penculikan aktivis mahasiswa dan organisasi kemasyarakatan. Berdasarkan data yang dikumpulkan oleh Komisi untuk Orang Hilang dan Korban Tindak Kekerasan (KontraS) , masih ada 13 korban yang hingga saat ini tidak diketahui keberadaannya. Mereka adalah Dedy Umar Hamdun, Herman Hendrawan, Hendra Hambali, Ismail, M. Yusuf, Nova Al Katiri, Petrus Bima Anugrah, Sony, Suyat, Ucok Munandar Siahaan, Yani Afri, Yadin Muhidin, dan Wiji Thukul.

Seorang demonstran membawa foto 13 orang hilang yang saat ini tidak diketahui keberadaannya. Sumber foto : http://assets.kompas.com/data/photo/2011/03/06/1736073620X310.JPG

Setiap hari Kamis, sejak tanggal 18 Januari 2007, para anggota keluarga korban berkumpul di seberang Istana Negara untuk melakukan aksi diam melawan impunitas. Aksi ini dikenal dengan nama “Kamisan”. Tujuan utama dari aksi ini adalah meminta pemerintah mengusut tuntas kasus kasus pelanggaran HAM berat masa lalu, tidak hanya kasus penghilangan paksa melainkan juga kasus penembakan mahasiswa Universitas Trisakti dan Semanggi, diantaranya.


                                                     Aksi Kamisan 27 Agustus 2015. Foto koleksi pribadi .

Penghilangan paksa tidak hanya terjadi di Indonesia. Setahun yang lalu, 43 pelajar di salah satu universitas di Ayotzinapa “menghilang” setelah diduga keras diculik oleh polisi setelah menghadiri unjuk rasa. Pihak berwenang mengatakan bahwa polisi menyerahkannya ke kelompok mafia narkoba bernama Guerreros Unidos yang membantai mereka. Namun, keluarga korban marah dengan ketidakseriusan penanganan kasus itu dan menolak percaya jika anak-anak mereka telah tewas.

Berbagai cara dilakukan untuk menyuarakan kepedihan keluarga korban, salah satunya adalah melalui sebuah puisi. Puisi yang ditulis oleh Marcela Ibarra Mateos, seorang dosen di Universidad Iberoamericana di Puebla berjudul : Mamá, Si Desaparezco, Adónde Voy? (Mom, If I Disappear, Where Do I Go ).

Pengunjuk rasa di Mexico City menuntut pengusutan kasus "penghilangan paksa" 43 pelajar universitas di Ayotzinapa. Sumber : http://www.noticiasnet.mx/portal/sites/default/files//fotos/2014/10/23/1.jpg

Pengunjuk rasa di Mexico City menuntut pengusutan kasus “penghilangan paksa” 43 pelajar universitas di Ayotzinapa. Sumber : http://www.noticiasnet.mx/portal/sites/default/files//fotos/2014/10/23/1.jpg

Selain itu, ada sebuah esai karangan Zen RS yang berjudul “Karena Nyeri itu Tiap Hari, Bukan 5 Tahun sekali” , yang sangat mewakili perasaan keluarga korban penghilangan paksa yang saat ini masih menunggu kejelasan nasib orang orang yang sangat disayanginya. Berikut kutipan kata kata dalam esai itu :

“Karena untuk sebuah cinta yang dalam, kehilangan akan selalu aktual. Karena untuk kerinduan yang menahun, kehilangan tak akan pernah basi. Hilangnya boleh tahun 1975 atau 1998, tapi nyerinya bisa datang kapan saja sampai entah. Bagi mereka yang kehilangan orang-orang tercinta karena kekerasan yang dilakukan negara dan aparatusnya, HAM bukanlah pasal-pasal dalam konstitusi atau kalimat-kalimat indah nan bersayap dalam sebait puisi. Bagi mereka, HAM adalah sesuatu yang konkrit dan sehari-hari. HAM adalah ketika bangun pagi dan mendapati kamar anak tercinta masih kosong tak berpenghuni. HAM adalah isak sedih dalam hati saat menatap foto suami yang sudah mati. HAM adalah mulut yang diam terkunci tiap kali ada anak bertanya: Bu, kapan bapak pulang?”

Isi puisi karangan Marcella Ibarra pun tak kalah mengharukan. Berikut adalah terjemahan puisi itu yang dikutip dari situs web http://sparksmex.blogspot.com/2014/11/mom-if-i-disappear-where-will-i-go.html

Mom, if I disappear, where will I go?
I don’t know, son.
I only know that if you disappear, I would look for you everywhere on earth and below the earth.
I would knock on every door of every house.
Asking every single person who I find along my way.
I would insist, every single day, at every moment, that I was obligated to look for you until I found you.
And I would want you not to be afraid, because I am looking for you.
And if they didn’t listen to me, my son,
My voice would grow stronger and I would shout your name in the streets.

I would break glass and tear down doors to search for you.
I would burn buildings so everyone would know how much I love you and how much I want you back.
I would paint walls with your name and I wouldn’t let anyone forget you.
I would look for others who are also searching for their children, so that together we could find you and them.
And my son, I would want you not to be afraid, because we would be looking for you.
If you didn’t disappear, my son–oh, I want that you not!–I would shout the names of those who have disappeared.
I would write their names on walls.
I would hug, even from a distance, all of the mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers who are searching for their disappeared.
I would walk arm in arm with them in the streets.
I would not allow their names to be forgotten.
I would want, my son, for none of them to be afraid because we would be looking for them.