As
Andrew Chan, Myuran Sukumaran and six other men stared down their executioners
on Indonesia's prison island, Nusakambangan, in the early hours of Wednesday,
they sang Amazing Grace.
Their
last minutes provide a powerful image which speaks to an even more powerful
idea, redemption; one of the central narratives in the whole sorry saga of
Indonesia's latest round of state-sanctioned killings.
At
the centre of it are Australians Chan and Sukumaran, who after 10 years in
Bali's Kerokokan prison had turned a new leaf. The pastor and the painter, as
they came to be known, were nothing like the truculent ringleaders they went to
jail as. In their time they worked to stop drugs in their own prison and
improve the lives of fellow inmates. But it is just not about reform.
As
ANU prisons expert Clarke Jones and I have written before, the death of Chan
and Sukumaran has now robbed Indonesia President Joko 'Jokowi' Widodo of two of
his most powerful potential advocates in his 'war on drugs' two shining
examples of rehabilitation should have been held up with pride by Indonesian
authorities.
If
there can be no acknowledged redemption for Chan and Sukumaran, and drug
traffickers like them, can there be redemption for Jokowi? That depends
on who you ask.
In
his eyes he has done nothing wrong. As flawed as the logic and the data he uses
to justify his stance, its possible Jokowi truly believes the death penalty is
the best way to stave off a 'drug emergency'. A national leader described as
being under the thumb of his political paymaster, party leader Megawati
Sukarnoputri, who expects him to serve not as President but as a 'party
functionary', he might well think he's shown decisive action and resolve.
Jokowi
is not set to lose face with his own people, most of whom, also support the
death penalty for crimes like drug smuggling. That isn't to say that there
aren't Indonesians who disagree with what Jokowi has done. In executing 12
foreigners and two Indonesians in just six months, Jokowi hasn't just broken
the record for most number of single executions in a year (previously 10); he's
buried the hopes on restoring a previous moratorium on the death sentence. This
has been received just as poorly in some sections of Indonesia as Australia.
With
Australia taking the unprecedented step of recalling its ambassador, some feel
that the relationship between Canberra and Jakarta has reached its lowest ebb
since the East Timor crisis of 1999. Indonesians might say the lowest point was
the revelations that Australia had been hacking the phones of former president
Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, his wife and other members of the executive. SBY
withdrew his ambassador out of Canberra at that time.
The
diplomatic move feeds into broader public anger and disappointment, with many
(but not all) Australians making it clear that Jokowi is persona non grata. The
National Portrait Gallery has removed a portrait of him for fear it will be
vandalised. The Department of Foreign Affairs has been flooded with demands
that aid spending be cut. Other retaliatory measures could be suspending trade
and blocking Indonesian interest in multilateral meetings.
So
can the relationship be brought back to normal? For Jokowi's part, it's
probably not a high priority. His focus is clearly domestic and he is
distancing himself from his predecessor, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono's jet-setting focus on foreign affairs. SBY's
"1000 friends, zero enemies" approach is being quickly whittled away.
And as ANU expert Greg Fealy
argues, for Jokowi, diplomacy is an "abstraction".
While
talking of "consequences", both Foreign Minister Julie Bishop and
Prime Minister Tony Abbott have stated publicly that the relationship is of
vital importance. They are right; the educational, people-to-people, cultural,
business, military and even legal exchanges and links between the two nations
are too important to cut loose.
Between
2011 and 2015, Australian spent $55 million in aid to help improve Indonesia's
justice system. We should continue to work with Indonesia to strengthen its
legal culture and its rule of law. Our aid should also continue to improve the
country's education, health, and social development, as well as economic and
democratic governance.
After
the phone-hacking scandal of 2013, while it never apologised, Australia agreed
to set up a series of protocols with Indonesia to ensure that such surveillance
didn't happen again. This latest episode provides a similar chance for
reciprocation.
We
should take a seat at the table and express why we are angry, that's a given;
especially with incompetence making some of the process look unduly and
provocatively cruel. And like Indonesia's displeasure at Saudi Arabia when it
recently beheaded its citizens without notification, so Jakarta should
understand our displeasure that it didn't work harder to keep Canberra better
in the loop. Dodging phone calls is not a good look.
Australia
should tell Indonesia that this is not unacceptable, nor the behaviour of a
'close friend', and outline exactly what they expect when it comes to our
citizens and their treatment at such highly emotive and sensitive times – even
within the bounds of Indonesia's loosely applied, inconsistent, and, quite
frankly, corrupt 'sovereign legal system'. But by shouting from the outside,
there is little chance we will be heard.
By
continuing to sit down with Jakarta and speaking from the point of view of a nation
that's lost its own citizens, Australia could provide a welcome voice and
advocate for Indonesian citizens on death row overseas. Working together to
stop the death penalty across the region would surely provide greater impetus
to stop it in Indonesia.
Herein
lies the real chance for redemption, and the best way to honour the memory of
Chan and Sukumaran. Australia, both within our political elite, and broader
society, must now make opposition to the death penalty a sustained and ongoing
cause – and not just when the lives of our citizens are on the line.
Bishop
has already flagged a debate on the death penalty and drug trafficking in
the region. Through the right multilateral forums and bilateral ties Australia
can influence change; we can help redeem a sorry situation. With more than 17
Australian citizens and many more from other countries on death row across Asia
there is much work to be done.
It
may be too late to bring back Chan and Sukumaran. But we can ensure their
legacy lives on by working for profound change. That would be amazing
grace.
-- James
Giggacher is Asia Pacific editor at The Australian National University's
College of Asia and the Pacific and has covered Indonesia politics for
specialist Southeast Asia website New Mandala.
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