That was the comment from one of my readers in May 2006, but I said no.
It is essential that we call to account those who think they can get away with genocide, who can rob a country blind and then say ~ "Hey, we've got democracy now."
No we haven't, not until there is closure.
In saying what we felt then and how we feel now, perhaps there can be some understanding. I wonder though. Folks back in Blighty seem to be more interested in the impending eruption of Gunung Merapi (lit: Fire Mountain) presumably because it makes better television.
Well, have a look at Indcoup's account and the scenes he has posted.
Over the railway track, and toward Slipi. It's getting frantic now. At the junction I notice the words makin bikin brutal (let's make it brutal) chalked onto the road. Groups of people milling around. A couple of guys with sticks. Thank fu#k I'm on the bike. Gotta keep moving. Full throttle, through the red lights and I'm clear.
Five minutes later, I'm home.
But what to do? There's a bottle of wine that I was saving for a special occasion, but f#ck that: this is a special occasion. I chuck it in the freezer to get it cold. And so half an hour later I'm up on the roof garden (the place where the servants hang the washing), wine glass in one hand and a Henry Wintermans in the other. I even take off my shirt to get in spot of sunbathing.
But what the hell is that?
Treespotter has posted a very moving, emotional article. This is his (slightly edited) ending:
In this legal system where the head of the Supreme Court is a suspect in a bribery case and the sitting President is his ex-security chief, Soeharto is being freed of all charges on medical grounds.
The government conveniently used the frenzy around our nuclear wielding Iranian friend and dropped this news into the end of the news cycle on a national holiday weekend when no newspapers were published. On exactly the same weekend eight years after we oversaw his downfall. Somebody there has a wicked sense of humour.
I can have a lot more to say about this, really. I had friends who died exactly this week eight years ago. I have relatives who were shot and detained without charges over this stuff. I attended Elang's funeral and I looked into his mother's eyes, thinking that she might be proud someday that her son died for something. I shook her hands and kept the tissue for days afterward.
Only I won't say anymore right now because I'm just too fucking mad today.
And that's why we mustn't move on just yet.
Labels: republished
