January 14th, 2016. A terrorist attack involving multiple suicide bombings and gunfights with police in the centre of Jakarta left eight were people dead. It was a horrific tragedy. But at the same time, the event enabled me to observe the very impressive Jakarta citizens. I am sharing some thoughts I wrote down then, after I came back to London.
Indeed, it was quite shocking to see the horrible things happening right next to me an hour ago. It was like a déjà vu of a day in my high school in Korea. I cannot simply compare, but I felt a similar feeling when I witnessed the 'Sampung Department Store' was collapsed due to structural failures.. But what remains more vivid from the terror attack in Jakarta is the image and hope of the citizens of Jakarta who want to transcend their shock and fear. The horrendous attack did not receive the attention of the world, certainly not as much as the terrorist attack in the Paris. However, the voluntary and diverse voices of citizens flourished online on social network services (SNS) shortly after the terrorist attacks. What was originally shared with #PrayforJakarta grew into something greater: #kamitidaktakut. This means, “We are not afraid.”
There are two expressions of 'we' in Indonesian. 'Kita' means 'we' and includes the listener. 'Kami' means 'we' without the listener – we who speaks to them. It reminds me of an expression of 'our' in Korean – Korean uses 'our' as a collective expression. ‘our’ is used rather than 'my' as an individual, as one. It is much more common and nuancedly appropriate to say 'our' school or 'our' company, not 'my' school or 'my' company. If you own a company, you might say it is ‘mine’, but even that is not always common. For example, I am the only child. Surprisingly, it’s more colloquially correct to call my father 'our' father rather than ‘my’ father.
The citizens of Jakarta showed 'our (kami)' will to stand against terrorists. The following day, I went to the memorial service with my friends. I could hardly imagine that these spaces were where the terror attack took place, and just the day prior. People there looked enthusiastic and determined. Some people demonstrated with humour, but also with solemnity. Protesters included students, seniors, celebrities, children in school uniforms seemed to enjoy this event in various ways. Later, in the media at large and on the news, I saw the merchant who grilled 'sate' (skewers), right after the attack. He was just in front of the Starbucks where the horrors had taken place, and his actions became a telling story of resilience. One of my Indonesian friends called my thoughts on the matter overblown, but it stopped me in my tracks to see this man. It was very impressive; this man showed his resilience and willingness to live his own life as it goes, rather than being afraid or panicked. Life goes on. And he, too, went on.
I met the British Ambassador, Moazzam Malik, at the memorial that day. Looking fully human in a casual shirt, he was participating in the demonstration with only one attendant. Moreover, he was speaking to me, fluently, in Indonesian. He thought I was a local – likely because I was wearing 'batik'. He had come to a place, one that wasn’t native to him – wasn’t home – and he was studying, taking courses of the local language every week. I couldn’t help but think, “What a great ambassador!” I am not sure whether Korean ambassadors in the ASEAN region can speak in their own language, or even try to learn them. It’s not always a priority to mingle with the locals.
Public opinion on President Joko Widodo, better known as 'Jokowi' varies wildly in Indonesia. His critics and their arguments seem to be intensifying as he moves into the third year of his term. I see it a bit differently. I was there on that day. What President Jokowi did directly after the terrorist attacks was quite agile and relevant, at least to me – particularly compared to the Korean President Park Geun-Hye's inept response during the Sewol ferry tragedy in April of 2014. There remains much speculation going on the 'missing seven hours', wherein the President's whereabouts were completely unknown on the day of the disaster. Three hundreds lives extinguished, and we still don’t know where she was?
South Korean President Park Geun-hye is briefed on the Sewol ferry sinking at 5:30 pm on Apr. 16, 2014, at the Central Government Complex in Seoul. Park had received a telephone briefing around 11am that it was very likely that the passengers who had not been rescued were missing or at least stuck on the ferry
(photo by the Blue House).
What we do know is this: President Jokowi was visiting Central Java during the attack. He immediately cancelled his events and the remainder of his schedule and left to return to Jakarta. An hour and 50 minutes after the event, he is shown on television in an urgent press interview. He did what presidents do: Condemned the terror attack and tried to reassure the public. Directly after returning to Jakarta, about six hours after the attack, Jokowi visited the Sarinah Mall and the nearby police post. There, he communicated with citizens around the area. I remember the scene from live television: the President in a white shirt, walking in the street alone, without any detail or guards. This was enough to send a message to the people: Strength. Calm. We are unafraid.
(photo provided by Kompas)
The citizens of Indonesia, the fourth most populous country on the globe, were clearly affected. They immediately began spreading this news and its underlying message on SNS, BBM, LINE and other chat and social media platforms. The next day, a massive, peaceful march was spontaneously organized. On that day, Jokowi once again visited Sarinah Mall with Ahok, who succeed his role as the mayor of Jakarta, and encouraged the victims' families, merchants, and others. They offered only condolence, and what strength they could muster for these intensely grieving people.
Perhaps more importantly, the way Jokowi responded to terrorism contrasts starkly to that of French President Orlando. In what seemed to be a knee-jerk reaction, Orlando immediately declared war on ISIS. It is unfair to simplify and compare the terror of Paris – the body counts are different, as was the geopolitical situation for the French with its military alliances and strong ties to the United States. Jokowi’s response was a show of strength as well, but a different kind of strength than I hear from Paris. “The state, the nation and the people must not be fearful, must not bow down to terrorism. Everything is under control.”
Jemaah Islamiyah’s 2002 attach in Bali in Indonesia was only 15 years ago. Militarized security and strong-armed responses would have been possible, whatever the reasoning. In contrast, emphasizing humanity, social stability, and resilience was presented by Jokowi and his people as an alternative approach. Showcasing these values present a different kind of strength, and are at least as important as a militaristic response to terror. In that light, underlying social inequality and other root causes of terrorism may be explored.
I certainly could have overlooked many nuanced factors, or misinterpreted what I saw as a foreign researcher who only stayed for a few months in Indonesia. I refuse to deny, however, the impressive character of people during this time. Their resilience and peaceful response, especially in contrast to Paris, provided a different kind of framework for me to process the attack. Watching Jokowi cope with national crises and sadness, and seeing the citizens understand that they must, somehow, go on. This determination and grit clearly shows that terror of this terrorism has poorly failed.
