Human rights and freedom of the press in the post-soeharto era: A critical analysis

Asia Pacific Journal on Human Rights and the Law

Volumn 3, Issue 2, 2002, Pages 1-104

  Hosen, Nadirsyah ^a  

^a SYARIF HIDAYATULLAH STATE ISLAMIC UNIVERSITY   (Indonesia)

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[No Author keywords available]

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EID: 34248079708     PISSN: 13881906     EISSN: 15718158     Source Type: Journal    
DOI: 10.1163/157181502772034845     Document Type: Article

References (168)

1. Information regarding the practice of the rule of law in Soeharto Government can be read in Hans Thoolen (ed), Indonesia and the Rule of Law: Twenty Years of 'New Order' Government,' Frances Pinter, London, 1987.
2. th Edition, March 1999.
3. See Lung-chu Chen, 'Human Rights Protection Needs Rule of Law and Independence of Judiciary to Succeed', in Uwe Johannen and James Gomez (eds.), Democratic Transitions in Asia, Singapore, Select Publishing, 2001.
4. See CST Kansil, Christine Kansil and Engeline Palendeng, Konstitusi-Konstitusi Indonesia Tahun 1945-2000, Jakarta, Pustaka Sinar Harapan, 2001, especially Chapter I.
5. Todung Mulya Lubis, In Search of Human Rights: Legal Political Dilemmas of Indonesia's New Order 1966-1990, Jakarta, GramediaPustaka Utama, 1993, pp. 293-294.
6. Stanley, 'Orde Baru 31 Taliun, 2000 Judul Buku Dibredel', paper presented at the Seminar on Expression and Freedom, the Lontar Foundation, 2-4 September 1996, Ciloto, Jawa Barat.
7. See Julian Millie, 'The Tempo Case: Indonesia's Press Laws, the Pengadilan Tata Usaha Negara and the Indonesian Negara Hukum' in Timothy Lindsey (ed.), Indonesia: Law and Society, NSW, the Federation Press, 1999, pp. 269-278.
8. Jawa Pos, 21 December 1997.
9. See Christine T. Tjandraningsih, 'Indonesian Press Again Under Threat', Japan Economic Newswire, 6 March 1998.
10. Amnesty International, Indonesia: The Anti-subversion Law: A Briefing, London, ASA 21 March 1997, p. 3.
11. See Geoff Simons, Indonesia: The Long Oppression, London, Macmillan Press LTD, 2000, p. 9.
12. See Ikrar Nusa Bhakti (et.al), Militer dan Politik Kekerasan Orde Baru, Bandung, Mizan, 2001.
13. Lubis, Militer dan Politik Kekerasan Orde Baru, op. cit., p. 113;
14. See also Daniel Fitzpatrick, 'Culture, Ideology and Human Rights: The Case of Indonesia's Code Criminal Procedure' in Lindsey, Militer dan Politik Kekerasan Orde Baru, op. cit., pp. 339-354.
15. More information on the enforced or involuntary disappearances in Soeharto can be read in Hendardi, Penghilangan Paksa, Jakarta, Grasindo, 1998.
16. See KUHP, Article 134, 137 (1), 207 and 208.
17. th century, and again in the popular uprisings of the last decade, human rights became the dominant critique of the conservatism of law, but the radical energy, symbolic value and apparently endlessly expansive potential of human rights has led to their adoption both by Governments wishing to justify their policies on moral grounds, and by individuals fighting for the public recognition of private desires and, as such, has undermined their ends. The next part of the book examines the philosophical logic of rights. Rights, the most liberal of institutions, have been largely misunderstood by established political philosophy and jurisprudence as a result of their cognitive limitations and ethically impoverished views of the individual subject and of the social bond. The liberal approaches of Hobbes, Locke and Kant are juxtaposed with the classical critiques of the concept of human rights by Burke, Hegel and Marx. The philosophies of Heidegger, Strauss, Arendt and Sartre are used to deconstruct the concept of the (legal) subject. Semiotics and psychoanalysis help explore the catastrophic consequences of both universalists and cultural relativists when they become convinced of their correctness. Finally, through consideration of the ethics of otherness, and with reference to recent human rights violations, it is argued that the end employment of human rights is to judge law and politics from a position of moral transcendence. Using examples from recent 'moral' foreign policies in Iraq, Rwanda and Kosovo, Douzonas radically argues that the defensive and emancipatory role of human rights will come to an end if we do not reinvent their Utopian ideal.
18. Bardo Fassbender, 'The United Nations Charter as Constitution of the International Community', 36 Colum. J. Transnat'l L. 529, 1998.
19. Bruno Simma & Philip Alston, The. Sources of Human Rights Law: Custom, Jus Cogens, and General Principles, 12 Austl. Y.B. Int'l L. 82, 84, 1992.
20. See Brigitte I. Hamm, 'A Human Rights Approach to Development', Human Rights Quarterly, 23, 2001, pp. 1005-1031.
21. More information can be found in International Commission of Jurists, Development, Human Rights and the Rule of Law: Report of a Conference held in The Hague on 27 April - 1 May 1981, England, Pergamon Press, 1981.
22. Vienna Declaration and Programme of Action, U.N. GAOR, World Conference on Human Rights., 48th Sess., 1993, available at http://www.unhchr.ch/html/ menu5/d/vienna.htm
23. The World Commission on Environment and Development, 1987, p. 43.
24. More information can be obtained from Halina Ward, 'Common but Differentiated Debates: Environment, Labour and the World Trade Organization,' International and Comparative Law Quarterly, Vol. 45, July 1996, pp. 592-632.
25. OECD, Strategies for Sustainable Development, 2001. The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), established in 1961, has thirty members -primarily from developed countries - and engages in labour policymaking and analysis as part of its general mandate to promote market based development. See OECD, 'What is OECD', at http://www.oecd.org/about/general/ index.htm
26. More information can be found in Lavanya Rajamani, 'Developing Country Resistance to Linking Trade and Environment: The Perceptions of Inequity and the Politics of Autonomy,' GETS, North-South Summer Series No. 1, August 2000.
27. United Nations Development Program (UNDP), Governance Policy Paper, http://magnet.undp.org/policy/
28. United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), Integrating Human Rights with Sustainable Development: A UNDP Policy Document 2, 1998, http://magnet.undp.org/Docs/policy5.html
29. More information on the relationship between press and democracy can be found in Richard Gunther, Anthony Mughan (eds.), Democracy and the Media: a comparative perspective, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2000;
30. J. Keane, The Media and Democracy, Cambridge, Polity Press, 1991.
31. Quoted from http://afronet.org.za/theobserver/volume4-6.htm.
32. David L. Lange describes the historical evolution of the term 'Fourth Estate', in his article The Speech and Press Clauses, 23 UCLA L. Rev. 77, 90, n.79, 1975.
33. Several legal scholars take the view that the Fourth Estate concept is based on the self-governance rationale, which retains the basic problem of providing support for only a limited range of expression. It also carries some additional difficulties of its own - primarily the problem of formal authority. By what source of constitutional authority in a democratic society does the institutional press take on a semi-formal role as the public's representative? The members of the legislative, executive, and judicial branches derive their formal authority from the consent of the citizens themselves either through direct election or appointment and consent by elected officials. Owners and members of the media are not reviewed, approved, or selected by the public. Consequently, they possess no similar consent, and thus no formal constitutional authority, to serve as 'the public's representative.' In addition to this rather dramatic departure from the fundamental principles of a democratic republic, the Fourth Estate rationale also fails to satisfy one of the most basic requirements of the common law: the existence of a formal agency relationship dependent upon 'the manifestation of consent by one person to another that the other shall act on his behalf and subject to his control.' It is indeed ironic that an argument which takes as its first principle the bedrock requirement that 'the people are the true and final sovereign' concludes by granting special representative status to an institutional press that has not been selected by, and is not formally reviewed or held accountable to, the very people it is deemed to represent and whose interests it is assumed to further. One might respond to this challenge by pointing to the commercial marketplace as an important adjunct in the disciplining of the press. The marketplace exerts pressure on the press to be responsive to the desires of the people and thus to strive to fulfil its constitutional function as a Fourth Estate. This rationale is flawed, however, because it assumes a vibrant and competitive commercial media environment which simply does not exist. Even assuming the existence of a highly competitive media marketplace capable of translating the desires of the general populace into effective pressure on the press to perform, a second serious problem with the above response still remains. The problem lies in the implicit assumption that the pressure placed on the press by the population at large will be in the direction of more vigorous and responsible fulfilment of its function as a Fourth Estate. On the contrary, the content of the vast majority of the modern media, especially the most commercially successful media, strongly indicates that the modern marketplace pushes popular media towards more entertainment, escapism, and sensationalism rather than the sober pursuit of its unique constitutional responsibilities. It is entirely possible, and if true quite ironic, that the degree of serious news-gathering and Government oversight currently engaged in by the popular media, especially the electronic media, is a direct function of the non-competitive breathing space afforded by an oligopolistic market. The portion of the press least responsive to the people may also be the most constitutionally responsible one. If so, then society is faced with the dilemma of either promoting a more civically responsible media, controlled by a relatively small number of unelected individuals, or a more vigorously competitive and responsive media which may be forced by the market to move increasingly further from its Fourth Estate function. Lucas A. Powe, Jr., The Fourth Estate and the Constitution: Freedom of the Press in America, California, University of California Press, 1991;
34. Julianne Schultz, Reviving the Fourth Estates: Democracy, Accountability and the Media, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1999. While Powe's work evaluates the press in America, Schultz analyses the role of journalism in Australia and the scope of its democratic purpose. She examines key news stories, and looks at the attitudes of Australian journalists themselves.
35. It is interesting to note that in the post-Soeharto era, several scholars and politicians in Indonesia regard the press also as the Fourth Estate. See 'Jadi Pilar Demokrasi, Pers Tuntut Budaya Hukuni, Kompas, 11 October 2002.
36. Richard Klein, 'Cultural Relativism, Economic Development and International Human Rights in the Asian Context', 9 Touro Int'l L. Rev. 1, Spring 2001.
37. Ann-Belinda S. Preis, 'Human Rights as Cultural Practice: An Anthropological Critique', Human Rights Quarterly, 18, 1996, pp. 286-288;
38. see also Karen Engle, 'From Skepticism to Embrace: Human Rights and the American Anthropological Association from 1947-1999', Human Rights Quarterly, 23, 2001, pp. 536-559.
39. It is interesting to note that the discussion on culture and human rights also appear in other regions (America, Africa and Arab). See Johan D. van der Vyver, 'Universality and Relativity of Human Rights: American Relativism', 4 Buff. Hum. Rts. L. Rev. 43, 1998;
40. Bonny Ibhawoh, 'Between Culture and Constitution: Evaluating the Cultural Legitimacy of Human Rights in the African State', Human Rights Quarterly, 22, 2000, pp. 838-860;
41. Abdullahi A. An-Na'im, 'Human Rights in the Arab World: A Regional Perspective', Human Rights Quarterly, 23, 2001, pp. 701-732.
42. See Michael J. Perry, 'Are Human Rights Universal? The Relativist Challenge and Related Matters,' Human Rights Quarterly, 19, 1997, pp. 461-509.
43. See John J. Tilley, 'Cultural Relativism', Human Rights Quarterly, 22, 2000, pp. 501-547.
44. Klein, Human Rights Quarterly, loc. cit.
45. Report of the Regional Meeting for Asia of the World Conference on Human Rights, U.N. DOC. A/CONF. 157/ASRM/8A/PC/59 (1993) [hereinafter Bangkok Declaration].
46. See Li-ann Thio, 'Implementing Human Rights in ASEAN countries: "Promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep"', available at http://www.yale.edu/yhrdlj/vol02/thio-liann-article.htm
47. Is there a notion of human rights which has no agenda, which serves no political interest and which is truly universal? If there is not - if any concept of human rights is grounded in some political or economic interest- then is there nevertheless some principled, rational justification for adopting one concept of human rights rather than another?' Joy Gordon, 'The Concept of Human Rights: The History and Meaning of its Politicization', 23 Brooklyn J Int'l L. 689, 1998.
48. See Bangkok Declaration, Brooklyn J Int'l L, loc. cit.
49. As quoted in Mark Zirnsak, 'Asian Values or the Denial of Universal Rights', Arena Magazine, October-November 1998, p. 17.
50. It is interesting to note that other developing obstacles which the previous Seattle meeting of 1999 had faced. See Steve Charnovitz, 'Trade, Employment and Labour Standards: The OECD Study and Recent Developments in the Trade and Labour Standards Debate,' Vol. 11 Temple International & Comparative. Law Journal, 1998;
51. Raj Bhala, 'Clarifying the Trade-Labour Link,' Columbia Journal of Transnational Law, Vol. 37, 1998;
52. C. O'Neal Taylor, 'Observations on Trade and Investments and Trade and Labor,' University of Pennsylvania Journal of International Economic Law, Vol. 19, 1998.
53. See Bangkok NGO Declaration on Human Rights. os Thio, University of Pennsylvania Journal of International Economic Law, loc. cit.
54. Anthony J. Langlois, The Politics of Justice and Human Rights: Southeast Asia and Uniyersalist Theory, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 2001, pp. 44-45.
55. Karen Engle, 'Culture and Human Rights: the Asian Values Debate in Context,' International Law and Politics, Vol. 32:291, 2000.
56. See Dianne Otto, 'Rethinking the "Universality" of Human Rights Law', 29 Colum. Human Rights L. Rev. 1, Fall 1997.
57. More discussion can be found in Scott Walker and Steven C. Poe, 'Does Cultural Diversity Affect Countries' Respect for Human Rights?', Human Rights Quarterly, 24, 2002, pp. 237-263.
58. The freedom of the press is not protected in Singapore and Malaysia as it is in the U.S., and most Western countries. In Singapore and Malaysia the press and the media have very little freedom at all. In both countries, most of the media operate under the suffocating control of the government. Strict licensing of the press and government control of broadcast news continues to expand as commercial broadcasting grows and the quality of production of both press and broadcasting gets better. In Malaysia, the ruling party uses oppressive media laws from the days of the Communist Emergency to dampen bad news and stop criticism. Singapore continues to use laws to restrict what the press can do and say, both internally and internationally. Journalists who depart from their "appropriate" guidelines are subject to both criminal and civil proceedings in the courts. Most news stories, especially those which make any mention of government action or policy, must go through the government first. Any outright criticism of the government in either Singapore or Malaysia is completely forbidden. The issue of freedom of the press in Singapore and Malaysia is especially interesting, since at first sight these countries seem rather modern and democratic. When one looks at their news web-sites, for example, they are functional, fast, and comprehensive. Their news coverage is excellent (both of local and national issues). In fact, their media and press seem hardly distinguishable from media in Western countries. One simply wouldn't be aware of the restrictions on the media and press in Singapore and Malaysia by looking at their newspapers or watching their TV. But the censorship is there. On closer examination, it's clear that few stories exist about local government and the political system (and no stories which criticise government). Controversial or "hot" political topics in the news are minimal. More information can be found in Chua Lee Hoong, 'Walking the tightrope: Press freedom and professional standards: Singapore' (pp. 142-155)
59. Syed Arabi Idid and Sankaran Ramanathan, 'Walking the tightrope: Press freedom and professional standards: Malaysia' (pp. 119-132)
60. both are published in Asad Latif (ed.), Walking the Tightrope: Press Freedom and Professional Standards in Asia, Singapore, Asian Media Information and Communication Centre, 1998;
61. see also Scott L. Goodroad, 'The Challenge of Free Speech: Asian Values v. Unfettered Free Speech, an Analysis of Singapore and Malaysia in the New Global Order', 9 Ind. Int'l & Comp. L. Rev. 259, 1998.
62. Angela Romano, Politics and the Press in Indonesia: Understanding an Evolving Political Culture, London, Routledge Curzon, 2003, p. 40.
63. Krishna Sen and David T. Hill, Media, Culture and Politics in Indonesia, Australia, Oxford University Press, 2000, p. 53.
64. UNDP, 'Integrating Human Rights with Sustainable Human Development: A UNDP Policy Development, http://magnet.undp.org/Docs/policy5.html
65. ICG, 'Indonesia: Impunity versus Accountability for Gross Human Rights Violations', 2 February 2001.
66. On demands for reform, see, for example, Hendardi, 'Butir-butir Reformasi Politik', Kompas, 20 February 1998.
67. See Dana L. Clark, 'The World Bank and Human Rights: The Need for Greater Accountability', 15 Harv. Hum. Rts. J. 205, Spring 2002.
68. Human Rights Watch, 'Indonesia: Soeharto-Era Abuses Must Go', available at http://www. hrw.org/reports98/indonesia2/
69. Amnesty International, 'An Audit of Human Rights Reform', 01/03/1999, available at http://www.web.amnesty.org/ai.nsf/index/ASA210121999
70. Kompas, 16 August 1998; Full text of the address can be read in http://www.dfa-deplu.go.id/policy/statements/president/paripurnal50898.htm
71. In his speech at the 1993 Vienna Conference on Human Rights, the Indonesian Foreign Minister Ali Alatas noted that the debate on human rights was not an East-West or North-South clash' but rather, 'the lingering echo of an earlier clash between two Western traditions, between the principle of individual liberty which, for example, Thomas Jefferson passionately espoused and the principle of a strong, lawful authority which Alexander Hamilton just as passionately advocated.' Text reproduced in Appendix III, Statements by Representatives of Asian Governments at the Vienna World Conference on Human Rights, in James Tang (ed.), Human Rights and International Relations in the Asia-Pacific Region, 1995, pp. 228-229.
72. See the comment on Habibie's statement in Doug Cassel, 'Universal Rights and Asian Culture: Indonesia Converts', Worldview Commentary:, No. 2, 19 August 1998.
73. Jimly Asshiddiqie (et.al), Reform in Indonesia: Vision and Achievements of President Habibie,vol. 1, Jakarta, The Habibie Centre, 1999, p. 36.
74. See Law No. 9 of 1998, Article 6.
75. More information can be found in Emla Fitzsimons, 'The Effect of Risk on Education and Child Labour in Indonesia,' The Institute for Fiscal Studies, 14 April 2002;
76. Chris Manning, 'The Economic Crisis and Child Labour in Indonesia,' report for International Labour Office, Geneva, 2000;
77. Sharron Bessel, 'The Politics of Child Labour in Indonesia: Global Trends and Domestic Policy," Pacific Affairs, Vol. 72, No. 3, Fall 1999.
78. Part of the background to the establishment of Komnas Perempuan could be the incidents involved rapes of ethnic Chinese women. On 13 May 1998, two days of violence broke out in Jakarta, Indonesia. On 14 and 15 May, Indonesians rioted throughout the country. Among the affected cities were Solo, Central Java, and Palembang, South Sumatra. While accounts of the riots remain unreliable and unclear, it is almost certain that mob leaders orchestrated the riots with a strongly demonstrated anti-Chinese sentiment. In fact, the violence and its effects led to a mass exodus of Chinese from Indonesia. In the aftermath of the May riots, human-rights workers reported numerous rapes. Almost all of these incidents involved rapes of ethnic Chinese women, committed by Indonesians. In addition to rape, other forms of sexual violence also took place during the riots. Human-rights groups have been working diligently to document the abuses which occurred in May, and many of them have been threatened with violence. Documentation has been a major problem, as victims are afraid to speak out and medical attention after the rapes was nonexistent. Rapes committed against ethnic Chinese women subsequently occurred during the summer of 1998. These rapes were better documented. The best estimate of the damage from the riots is 1,198 dead, 4,083 shops and 1,026 homes burned, and 40 shopping malls destroyed. Eyewitness accounts report that Indonesian youths were transported to Chinese dominated neighbourhoods. Some of the youths have admitted that they were paid, an indication that the riots were organized. However, allegations of a systematic and organized attack have not been verified. Father Sandyawan, leader of the Volunteer Team for Humanity which was investigating the rapes, published a report on the sexual violence. The report indicated that there were 168 cases of sexual violence, with 130 rape cases reported in Jakarta. The international community has been silent on this matter, presumably because it was private individuals, rather than Government-regulated employees or agents, committing these rapes. It is this resounding silence and inaction which requires international action. Examples like the pattern of Indonesian atrocities towards the Chinese, if left unproven, could lead to the continuing occurrence of similar atrocities. The Indonesian Government has admitted that the riots were deliberate. On 2 June 1997, the National Commission on Human Rights condemned the violence and suggested that it was an organized effort. On 23 July, the Government appointed a joint fact-finding team, Tim Gabungan Pencari Fakta (TGPF), to investigate the violence. The team includes armed-forces members, Government agencies, and human rights advocates. On 3 August, the armed forces commander, General Wiranto, apologised for the military's failure in prevention, and three weeks later, on 21 August, he acknowledged that some of the military were involved in the riots. Subsequently, the Jakarta police made arrests in connection with the May riots. Despite these admissions, the Government started to deny that the rapes took place. In an interview with a Jakarta newspaper, a policewoman said she did not believe any rapes took place at all. The national police commander, General Roesmanhadi, began to entertain the idea of prosecuting organizations for falsely spreading rumours of rape. The state intelligence chief claimed that the reports were fabricated. On 26 August, General Wiranto told police that no evidence was found in 103 cases of rape. In the midst of the Government's delayed denials of the rapes, a young Chinese-Indonesian female volunteer of the Volunteer Team for Humanity was found murdered. The riots and the resulting rapes in Indonesia demonstrate how difficult it can be for a victim to report rape and seek justice. There is almost a consensus that the Chinese victims will not come forward to report the alleged rapes, much less seek the prosecution of the rapists. Assuming that the Chinese victims do come forward, however, it is doubtful whether the Indonesian police will make any meaningful arrests. It has been argued that rape should be considered a violation of international human rights in its own category, as is the case with the United Nations resolutions authorising the international tribunal for Yugoslavia and Rwanda. More information can be found in the Human Rights Watch Report, 'Indonesia: The Damaging Debate on Rapes of Ethnic Chinese Women', http://www.hrw.org/hrw/ reports98/indonesia3.htm;
79. R. Charlie Carpenter, 'Surfacing Children: Limitations of Genocidal Rape Discourse,' Human Rights Quarterly, Vol. 22, 2000, pp. 428-477;
80. Gerry van Klinken, 'The Chinese Rapes, Economic Depression and Indonesian Communalism,' Inside Indonesia, Digest 68, 31 August 1998;
81. Rudiah Primariantari, 'Women, Violence, and Gang Rape in Indonesia', 7 Cardozo J. Int'l & Comp. L. 245, Fall 1999.
82. David Jenkins, 'Killings Recalled: Promotion for man who led assault on Balibo,' Sydney Morning Herald, 18 October 1997.
83. Habibie, Vol. 1, pp. 127-128.
84. Kevin O'Rourke, Reformasi: the Struggle Power in Post-Soeharto Indonesia, Sydney, Allen & Unwin, 2002, p. 146.
85. Douglas E. Ramage, 'Indonesia,' in Panel I: Effective Approaches to law and Human Rights, The Asia Foundation, 14 April 1999.
86. Law No. 39 of 1999, Articles 89 and 95.
87. Law No. 39 of 1999, Article 104.
88. See the lists on Saafroedin Bahar, Konteks Kenegaraan Hak Asasi Manusia, Jakarta, Pustaka Sinar Harapan, 2002, pp. 270-273.
89. See Keterangan Pemerintah Dihadapan Rapat Paripuma DPR-RI mengenai Rancangan Undang-Undang tentang Hal Asasi Manusia dan Komisi Nasional Hak Asasi Manusia, 1 April 1999.
90. See Pemandangan Umum Fraksi Persatuan Pembangunan terhadap Rancangan Undang- Undang tentang Hak Asasi Manusia dan Komisi nasional HAM, 16 April 1999.
91. See Peniandangan Umum Fraksi Karya Pembangunan terhadap Rancangan Undang-Undang tentang Hak Asasi Manusia dan Komisi Nasional Hak Asasi Manusia, 16 April 1999.
92. Donna Greschner, 'Does Law Advance the Cause of Equality?', 27 Queen's L.J. 299, Fall 2001.
93. William E. Nelson, 'The Changing Meaning of Equality in Twentieth-Century Constitutional Law', 52 Wash & Lee L. Rev. 3, 1995. The article considers the emergence in the late 1930s of today's conception of equality. Until then, people conceptualized equality in class-centered and geographically-oriented terms. In contrast, by the end of the 1930s, equality jurisprudence had begun to focus on what remains the paradigmatic concern of egalitarians today: how to address and remedy problems which arise when a culturally or ethnically distinctive minority finds itself disadvantaged in its relationship to mainstream social groups and turns to law to remedy the disadvantage. After 1960, equality was transformed into a judicially protected, formal legal right. Litigation for the purpose of obtaining a judicial order protecting a legal right to equality became commonplace. Assimilation, in turn, came to be viewed as a problematic vision of equality. Although some people continued to adhere to that vision even after 1960, an alternative approach, which is best described as multicultural, arose. This new multicultural approach cherished racial, religious, ethnic, gender, and other distinctions and proposed to organize society along group lines in a manner which allowed each group to achieve an equal share of wealth and power. In connection with this new approach to equality, subordinated groups began presenting their demands for equality more forcefully. During the decades in the middle of the twentieth century, when equality meant assimilation, those wanting to assimilate typically made polite requests for admission into the mainstream. But later, when multiculturalism came into vogue, people making egalitarian demands frequently presented them in a manner which appeared offensive and occasionally even threatening to dominant groups.
94. See Ronald Dworkin, 'What is Equality? Part 1: Equality of Welfare', 10 Philosophy and Public Affairs 185, 1981;
95. 'What is Equality? Part 2: Equality of Resources', 10 Philosophy and Public Affairs 283, 1981;
96. 'What is Equality? Part 3: The Place of Liberty', 73 Iowa Law Review I, 1987;
97. and 'What is Equality? Part 4: Political Equality', 22 U. of San Francisco Law Review 1, 1987.
98. See also Catherine J. lorns, 'A Feminist Looks at Ronald Dworkin's Theory of Equality', Murdoch University Electronic Journal of Law, Vol 1.No 1, 1993.
99. See the criticisms of substantive equality in Gary Goodpaster, 'Equality and Free Speech: The Case against Substantive Equality', 82 Iowa L. Rev. 645, January 1997.
100. For instance, on an extremely hot summer day in July 1991, Gwen Jacob took a topless stroll through the city of Guelph, Ontario. On its simplest terms, her rationale for doing so cannot be challenged: 'If the nudity line is drawn at the waist for men, then it must, of constitutional necessity, be drawn at the same place for women.' Section 15(1) of the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms implicitly provides this guarantee by protecting women from sex-based discrimination. Why, then, do women face potential barriers in enforcing their constitutional right to appear bare breasted in situations where men may do the same without rebuke? The unsettled nature of the Supreme Court of Canada's interpretation of 'equality' under s. 15(1) provides one answer. The meaning of indecency vis-à-vis the community standard of tolerance test supplies another. Both must be addressed before women can expect successfully to argue for topless rights. See Ryan Konotopsky, 'Jacob et al. v. The Community Standard of Tolerance: Substantive Equality, Indecency, and Topless Rights for Women', 63 Sask. L. Rev. 215, 2000.
101. Kenneth W. Simons, 'Equality as a Comparative Right', 65 B. U.L. Rev. 387, May 1985.
102. As far as the forms of self-determination are concerned, the exercise of the right to self-determination can take a variety of forms, depending on the interests and needs of encompassing communities, but in general they are divided into three types: (1) special political, economic and/or social rights; (2) territorial or non-territorial forms of autonomy; and (3) secession or irredentism. This definition of self-determination is not free from controversy for at least two reasons. Firstly, it is a contested matter that the right to self-determination is a human right. This is partially because the notion of human rights is, more or less, based on liberalism, which has a strong tendency to grant supremacy to individual rights in opposition to oppression by the state, As well as the fact that 'encompassing communities' are not always innocent victims of human rights violations. They have often become perpetrators of human-rights abuses against members of their communities or other communities. Secondly, the implementation of self-determination frequently threatens domestic and international order and stability, which undermines the preferable environment for human rights protection. The right to self-determination has instrumental value because it is often necessary as a means or an instrument for members of non-dominant encompassing communities which confront systematic discrimination and/or gross human-rights violations, as a result of the central Government's policies. At the same time, the right to self-determination has intrinsic value. This does not mean that encompassing communities, as such, have intrinsic value, as many communitarians claim. The moral justification of the right to self-determination lies in the significance of encompassing communities for individual autonomy and well-being. Therefore, 'illiberal' encompassing communities are not entitled to claim the right to self-determination. What makes the right to self-determination intrinsically valuable is the act of making decisions and of the political (and legal) recognition of the presence and basic rights of encompassing communities. Of course, any human rights violation should not be condoned, and therefore, the exercise of the right to self-determination should be confined within the framework of human- rights principles. Thus, the contexts under which conditions, and in which forms, the right to self-determination should be protected are different, depending on circumstances around encompassing communities. Nevertheless, this contingent feature is compatible with the universal premise of human rights, because, in this writer's understanding, human-rights principles are necessarily contingent in order to accommodate the needs and interests of 'contextual individuals'. For further detail of the conceptual justification of the right to self-determination, see Akiko Sugiki, 'A Conception of the Right to Self-determination as a Collective Human Right: Its Significance for Human Rights and Political Stability in the Asia-Pacific', Ph.D. thesis, University of Essex, 2002, pp. 98-144.
103. Philippe Kirsch, Q.C., and Valerie Oosterveld, "Negotiating an Institution for the Twenty-First Century: Multilateral Diplomacy and the International Criminal Court," 46 McGill L.J. 1141 (The first section deals with the history of the ICC, The Road to Rome: Adoption of the Rome Statute).
104. More information can be found in Steven Ratner and Jason Abrams, Accountability for Human Rights Atrocities in International Law, Clarendon Press, 1997, especially chapters 2 and 3;
105. W. Michael Reisman, "Legal Responses to Genocide and Other Massive Violations of Human Rights," Law and Contemporary Problems, Vol. 59, No. 4, Autumn 1996.
106. In May 2002, the United States Government commenced a number of attacks on the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, including announcing that they would oppose the renewal of UN Security Council mandates for all peacekeeping operations until the Security Council granted immunity from prosecution by the ICC for all US peacekeeping personnel. Firing a salvo across the UN bow at the time of the renewal of the East Timor peacekeeping operation, the threats escalated in June into one of the most intense confrontations ever at the Security Council. The US vetoed renewal of the Bosnian peacekeeping mission on 30 June and literally threatened to shut down all UN peacekeeping operations unless their demands for immunity from the ICC were met. In July 2002, the United Nations Security Council came out with a resolution (1422) to exempt peace-keepers from prosecution. Amnesty International described this as 'unlawful' saying that, "What the Security Council has done is to attempt to amend a treaty agreed between state parties, a power in this case only given to the Assembly of States Parties. Moreover, the Council is exceeding its powers by seeking to amend a treaty which is fully consistent with the UN Charter. In addition, by invoking Chapter VII of the UN Charter, the Security Council has wrongly characterized the US threat to veto peace-keeping operations as either a threat to peace, a breach of peace, or an act of aggression. None of those terms apply to a court created to establish accountability for the worst possible crimes under international law." A lot of pressure for this resolution, Amnesty pointed out, came from the United States, and the United Kingdom. Human Rights Watch added that this resolution was weaker than what the U.S. was aiming for, which was to "to permanently exempt Americans from the reach of the International Criminal Court." Quoted from http://www.globalissues.org/Geopolitics/ICC.asp.
107. More information can be found in "The International Criminal Court: Not (Quite) Strangled at Birth," The Economist, 6 July 2002, p. 14.
108. See Article 1 of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court.
109. See Article 17 of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court.
110. The destruction and killing in East Timor after the referendum on 30 August made the establishment of new courts a matter of urgency. In particular, an UN-sponsored commission of inquiry threatened to lead to the establishment of an international court to try 'crimes against humanity' unless Indonesia dealt with these crimes itself. The Habibie Government had to take urgent steps to show that it was serious. Instead of the time-consuming task of presenting a new bill to the DPR, it issued on 8 October 1999 a Government regulation in lieu of a law (Perpu) to establish special human rights courts. The constitution provides that the president can issue a Perpu in urgent circumstances, but the regulation needs to be ratified by the DPR at its next sitting. With East Timor in mind, the regulation provided that the initial investigation could be conducted only by the Komnas-HAM (Article 10). The Komnas-HAM would then present its recommendations to a team co-ordinated by the Attorney General which was obliged to complete its investigations within six months (Article 12 and 13). To facilitate the investigation of military personnel, the Perpu explicitly invalidated certain clauses in the Law on Military Courts (Article 17) which gave the military exclusive jurisdiction over military personnel. The Attorney General would then prosecute in the newly established human-rights court. The regulation stated, however, that violations of human rights which occurred before the issuing of the Perpu would be subject to existing criminal law (Article 24). The new Perpu, therefore, strengthened the legal basis of the Commission of Inquiry on East Timor, set up a fortnight earlier. It also became a focus for demands to establish commissions to inquire into other cases of gross violations of human rights. However, the Perpu, which needed ratification by the DPR, was rejected unanimously, at the Government's request, on 13 March 2000. The Minister for Law and Legislation, Yusril Ihza Mahendra, argued that the regulation did not satisfy the community's aspiration for justice because it did not allow prosecution of past human-rights offences in the new human rights courts. In fact, a strong consideration was fear that the lack of a retroactive clause might fail to satisfy the international community's demand that those responsible for gross violations in East Timor be tried. Instead, the Government prepared a new bill on human-rights courts which specified a wider range of human-rights offences and provided for retroactive prosecution. The Bill on Human Rights Courts underwent several revisions before it was presented to the DPR in June and adopted in November, 2000 (Law No.26/2000). The new law covered internationally recognised gross violations of human rights, in particular 'genocide' and 'crimes against humanity', which are not adequately covered in the criminal code. It defined genocide as 'any action intended to destroy or exterminate, in whole or in part, a national group, race, ethnic group, or religious group' (Article 8) and crimes against humanity as 'actions perpetrated as part of a broad or systematic direct attack on civilians' (Article 9). The provision for retrospective application of the new law on human-rights courts proved to be very controversial. Retroactive prosecution conflicts with Indonesian statutes (with Article 1 of the Criminal Code, stating that an offence can be tried only if illegal at the time of the crime, and with Article 4 and 18 of the Law on Human Rights, adopted in 1999). It also conflicts with a general principle of law common in most of the world. When the Human Rights Courts bill was taken to the DPR in June 2000, the retroactive principle was criticised, particularly by the military and Golkar representatives, who had been most identified with the New Order regime. The majority, however, accepted that, without retroactive prosecution of 'crimes of omission', it would be, at least, extremely difficult to convict those most responsible for human-rights violations in East Timor and elsewhere, and to persuade the international community that Indonesia was making a serious effort to hold those responsible for gross violations accountable. The final version of the law reflects compromise on this issue. It provides for special ad hoc human rights courts to try gross violations of human rights which had occurred before the new law came into force. However, as a safeguard, such courts can be established only to try specific cases, through a special procedure. The President may establish an ad hoc court by decree, only on the explicit recommendation of the DPR (Article 43). Provision is also made for the resolution of gross violations through a Truth and Reconciliation Commission to be established by a later law (Article 47). In the end, Law 26/2000 on Human Rights Courts was unanimously adopted by the DPR in November 2000. The information above is adopted from ICG, The Economist, op. cit., pp. 13-15.
111. For comparison see Amnesty International, Indonesia: Comments on the draft law on Human Rights Tribunals, AI Index: ASA 21/25/00, June 2000;
112. Amnesty International, Amnesty International's Comments on the Law on Human Rights Courts (Law No.26/2000), AI Index: ASA 21/005/2001;
113. Soedjono Dirdjosisworo, Pengadilan Hak Asasi Manusia Indonesia, Bandung, Citra Aditya Bakti, 2002;
114. Rozali Abdullah and Syamsir, Perkembangan HAM dan Keberadaan Peradilan HAM di Indonesia, Jakarta, Ghalia, 2002.
115. More discussion can be found in Abdullahi Ahmed An-Na'im, 'State Responsibility under International Human Rights Law to Change Religious and Customary Laws' in Rebecca J. Cook, Human Rights of Women: National and International Perspectives, Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press, 1996, pp. 167-175.
116. More information on Komnas-HAM can be found in Saafroedin Bahar, Human Rights of Women: National and International Perspectives op. cit., chapters 5, 6 and 7.
117. Linda C. Reif, 'Building Democratic Institutions: The Role of National Human Rights Institutions in Good Governance and Human Rights Protection', 13 Harv. Hum. Rts. J. 1, Spring 2000.
118. Harv. Hum. Rts. J., id., pp. 740-744.
119. See a letter from the Minister of Justice to the Chairperson of the Komnas-HAM on 29 May 2001. Reproduced in Saafroedin Bahar, Harv. Hum. Rts. J.,. cit., pp. 737-738.
120. See Media Indonesia, 5 March 2002, 9 March 2002; Kompas, 2 March 2002, 10 June 2002 and 12 June 2002.
121. See Bruce Ackerman, The Future of Liberal Revolution, New Haven, Yale University Press, 1992.
122. Diane F. Orentlicher, 'Settling Accounts: The Duty to Prosecute Human Rights Violations of a Prior Regime', 100 Yale L.J., 1991.
123. See Matthew Draper, 'Justice as a Building Block of Democracy in Transitional Societies: The Case of Indonesia', 40 Colum. J. Transnat'l L. 391, 2002.
124. Jaime Malamud-Goti, 'Trying Violators of Human Rights: The Dilemma of Transitional Democratic Governments', in Aspen Institute (ed.) State Crimes: Punishment or Pardon, 1989, pp. 81-82.
125. This is a report of 4-6 November 1988, Wye Center, Maryland conference to discuss the moral, political, and jurisprudential issues that arise when a Government which has engaged in gross violations of human rights is succeeded by a regime more inclined to respect those rights; See also Daniel W. Shuman and Alexander McCall Smith, Justice and the Prosecution of Old Crimes: Balancing Legal, Psychological, and Moral Concerns, Washington DC, American Psychological Association, 2000.
126. See Juan E. Mendez, 'Accountability for Past Abuses', Human Rights Quarterly, 19, 1997.
127. In June and August 1998, at the height of its influence and credibility as an independent and critical body, the Komnas-HAM conducted a survey of human-rights abuses which had taken place in Aceh between 1990 and 1998, when Aceh had been formally designated as an area of military operations (daerah operasi militer or DOM). It found that gross violations of human rights had been committed by Indonesian Government forces, in the form of summary executions, torture, enforced disappearances, arbitrary arrests and detention, rape and sexual assault, and property destruction. It recommended prosecution of those responsible, compensation for the victims, restoration of civilian institutions, ending the culture of impunity within the military; a wholesale review of military law and education, and re-allocation of resources between the central and provincial Governments. Nothing happened. Following two major massacres in Aceh in February and May 1999, Komnas-HAM issued strong statements concluding that the military approach to the Aceh conflict had resulted only in increased violence, and that new anti-riot teams containing both military and civilian elements were exacerbating the conflict rather than reducing it. The statements were forceful, but they had no impact. In July 1999, the Komnas-HAM recommended to then-President Habibie that a Truth and Reconciliation Commission be established specifically for Aceh. Nothing came of it, though not for want of effort by some Komnas-HAM members; it was the Habibie Government which showed no interest. On 30 July 1999, however, through Presidential Decision (Kepres) No. 88, President Habibie set up a special commission to investigate human rights violations in Aceh, called Komisi Independen untuk Tindak Kekerasan Aceh.
128. Led by an Acehnese woman who was widely known to be a business associate of then-Commander of the Armed Forces, General Wiranto, the new commission contained two members from the Komnas-HAM, Mohammad Salim and retired police commander, Koesparmono Irsan. Its work was controversial: it ended up recommending prosecution of only five cases, out of all the human rights violations that had taken place in Aceh, and none of these were from the worst of the DOM period. To many Acehnese, the commission reinforced the culture of impunity that Komnas-HAM had urged ending, even though one of the five cases was eventually brought to trial and low-ranking soldiers found guilty - their commander went into hiding and was never prosecuted. The information above is adopted from Human Rights Watch, 'Indonesia: Accountability for Human Rights Violations in Aceh', Vol. 14, No. 1 (C), March 2002.
129. ICG's report (Indonesia: Accountability for Human Rights Violations in Aceh, op. cit., p. 10) explains that: In 1996 President Soeharto was worried about the growing public support for the Indonesian Democratic Party (PDI: Partai Demokrasi Indonesia) led by Megawati Soekarnoputri, the daughter of his predecessor, President Soekarno. In June a Government-manipulated party congress unanimously elected a Government-backed candidate to replace Megawati, who clearly enjoyed the support of the majority of party members. Despite their victory in the party congress, the new leadership was unable to occupy the party headquarters in Jalan Diponegoro, Jakarta, which became the site for daily anti-Government rallies until it was attacked by 'unknown' forces on 27 July. It has never been revealed how many PDI supporters died or were wounded while trying to resist the attack but an investigation at the time, by the Komnas-HAM, of the ensuing riot revealed that five people were killed while 27 had disappeared. After the fall of Soeharto, Megawati's wing of the party constituted itself as the PDI-Struggle (PDI-Perjuangan) and became the leading party in the 1999 election. Megawati was elected Vice- President in October 1999. In the new circumstances, party supporters agitated for an investigation of those responsible for the attack on the party headquarters in 1996. In February 2000 the newly appointed Chief of Police, Lt. Gen. Rusdihardjo, launched an investigation which questioned 190 witnesses, including 29 police officers and 29 military officers. At the end of May, eleven civilians were declared 'suspects', including the former PDI chairman, Soerjadi, and other PDI officials. The leader of the Golkar-linked Pemuda Pancasila youth movement, Yorrys Raweyai, was also placed on the list with four gang members. The police, however, had (and still have) no authority to charge members of the military. Following the conclusion of the police investigation of civilians, a joint
130. Far Eastern Economic Review, 26 April 2001, p. 57.
131. While the cases are still in process in the human rights court, so far only one military officer, Lieutenant Colonel (Infantry) Soedjarwo, has been found guilty, on 27 December, 2002. Prior to this, Ifdhal Kasim, of the Institute for Policy Research and Advocacy (Elsain) said that judges and prosecutors had seemingly perceived officers as 'their colleagues, who carry out duties to safeguard territorial unity, and thus they must be protected.' See Jakarta Post, 2 December 2002.
132. See 'Indonesia: Human Rights Report 2000', released by the Bureau of Democracy, Human Rights, and Labor (US Government), February 2001, p. 10.
133. See Jakarta Post, 6 February 1999;
134. Suara Karya, 17 May 1999;
135. Suara Pembaruan, 15 May 1999
136. Sec A. Muis, 'Press Freedom in Indonesia', Jakarta Post, 11 June 1998;
137. tmakusumah, 'Half-Hearted Reform of Media Policy', Jakarta Post, 24 June 1998.
138. Human Rights Watch, 'Indonesia Reforms Urged to Ensure that Soeharto-era Abuses Not Repeated', available at http://www.ifex.org/alert/00003615.html.
139. Institute for the Studies on Free Flow of Information, 'Harassment of Press Freedom by Owner of Publication', available at http://www.ifex.org/alert/ 00003250.html.
140. Endy Bayuni, 'Freedom of Expression Precious to Indonesians', The Straits Times, 24 August 1998.
141. See Kees van Dijk, A Country in Despair: Indonesia between 1997 and 2000, Jakarta, K.ITLV Press, 2001, p. 305. Subsequently, the Government sent the draft Bill on Freedom of Expression to the Parliament. Law No. 9 of 1998 then was issued. In contrast to Government Regulation in Lieu of a Law No. 2 of 1998, permits are no longer needed, while notification to the police in writing three days in advance is all that is required. The police and the co-ordinators of public expression of opinion work together to assure the public expression is carried out in a safe, ordered and peaceful manner. No notification is required for scholarly meetings at universities, or for religious gatherings.
142. The Associated Press, 'Indonesian President Vows to End Censorship of the Media', available at http://www.freedomforum.org/international/1999/2/9habibie. asp.
143. Jakarta Post, 9 July 1999.
144. Warief Djajanto, 'The New Indonesian Press Law', paper presented at the PCIJ-SEAPA Access to Information Forum, Jakarta, 10 February 2000.
145. See Pemandangan Umum Fraksi Karya Pembangunan DPR-RI Terhadap Rancangan Undang-Undang tentang Pers, Jakarta 20 August 1999.
146. See Jawaban Pemerintah atas Pemandangan Umum Fraksi-Fraksi DPR Terhadap Rancangan Undang-Undang tentang Pers, Disampaikan oleh Menleri Penerangan Rf, Jakarta 25 August 1999.
147. See Draft of Press Law, Article 5.
148. See Hinca IP Pandjaitan, 'Menuju Kemerdekaan Pers 2000: Penelusuran Pemahaman Undang-Undang Pers', March 2000, available at http://www.internews.or. id.
149. The new paradigm was proposed by the PPP Party. See Pendapat Akhir Fraksi Persatuan Pembangunan DPR-RI terhadap Rancangan Undang-Undang tentang Pers, 13 September 1999.
150. See Hinca IP Panjaitan, 'Undang-Undang Pers vs. KUH Pidana atau UU Penyiaran', paper presented at Seminar Hukum, Etika dan Kemerdekaan Pers, Jakarta, 5-6 June 2000.
151. Romano, Seminar Hukum, Etika dan Kemerdekaan Pers, op. cit., p. 84.
152. Kompas, 7 September 1999.
153. See Deborah M. Bies, 'Freedom of the Press Undermined by Indirect Censorship in Indonesia: The Impact of Criminal Sanctions and Safety Concerns on Journalists' Ability to Freely and Accurately Report Current Events, 24 Suffolk Transnat'l L. Rev. 279, Summer 2001.
154. More discussion on the relationship between the Criminal Code and press freedom during the Soeharto era can be found in Wina Armada, Wajah Hukum Pidana Pers, Jakarta, Pustaka Kartini, 1989.
155. In Australia, there are no special causes of action for, or laws prohibiting, insults against the Head of State or other Government officials or institutions. See http://www.presscouncil.org.au/pcsite/fop/auspres.html#insult
156. Djajanto, Wajah Hukum Pidana Pers, loc.cit. In order to deal with this problem, a number of media-watch organizations around the country have sprung up. They are run by media study centres and publish newsletters to critique general media content. The newsletters are circulated to news organizations for the benefit of working journalists. These newsletters include Sendi in Surabaya, Buletin Media Watch in Makasar, Kupas in Medan, and Independen watch! in Jakarta.
157. The story was adopted from A. Lin Neumann, 'Press, Power & Politics: Indonesia', published by the Freedom Report, 2000.
158. More discussion can be found in Kukuh Sanyoto, 'Indonesian Television and the Dynamics of Transition', in Russell Hiang Khng-Heng (ed.), Media Fortunes, Changing Times: Asian States in Transition, Singapore, ISEAS, 2002.
159. See AJI Press Release, 'Journalist beaten by military officers', available at http://www.ifex.org/alerts/view.html?id=5808.
160. A JI, 'Attacks Against Journalists Continue', available at http://www.ifex.org/alerts/view.html?id=6310.
161. Attacks on the press persist in the post Habibie era. On 6 May 2000, dozens of members of the Nahdlatul Ulama (Indonesia's largest Muslim organisation) civilian guard, called Banser, occupied the office of the Jawa Pos in Surubaya, East Java, to protest articles accusing top leaders of their organization of corruption. To end the occupation, in which Banser members were switching off computers and disconnecting phone lines, the newspaper agreed to publish a retraction and apology and to donate S4.4 million for the construction of a mosque. The press has been especially hurt not only by assaults by Islamic groups but also by separatist movements fighting for independence from Jakarta. On 28 January 2000, the pro-independence militia group Satuan Tugas attacked the office of state-owned Radio Republik Indonesia (RRI) in Fakfak, West Papua, when they were not allowed to issue a statement on air. The militiamen destroyed buildings and equipment, paralysing the radio station for four days. Three weeks later, on 16 February 2000, several hundred militiamen armed with knives, bows and swords destroyed the building of the RRI office in the West Papuan town of Merauke. The militiamen perceived the radio station as biased in favour of the district Government, which opposes independence. The station was so devastated by the attack that it had to suspend broadcasting for a week. More information can be found in Lukas Luwarso (et. al), Natural Press Attackers: Pressure Against Indonesian Press 2001, Jakarta, SEAPA, 2002.
162. As reported in Susanto Pudjomartono, 'The Role of Indonesian Journalists', paper at the PCIJ-SEAPA Access to Information Forum in Jakarta on 10 February 2000.
163. See AJI and LSPP, Pers Indonesia Pasca Soeharto: Setelah Tekanan Penguasa Melemah, Jakarta, AJI-LSPP, 1999.
164. Pudjomartono, Pers Indonesia Pasca Soeharto: Setelah Tekanan Penguasa Melemah, loc. cit.
165. As reported in Neumann, Pers Indonesia Pasca Soeharto: Setelah Tekanan Penguasa Melemah, loc. cit. The end result of such constraints can be a lack of vital information about local situations and issues. This contributes to the misunderstanding of events in the country. Given Indonesia's immense size and diversity, the Jakarta-based national and international press must rely on local media and local correspondents for accurate information about regional events. If local journalists feel constrained in reporting critical events, the rest of the nation and the world may be unable accurately to appreciate current events and national trends.
166. Ramage, Pers Indonesia Pasca Soeharto: Setelah Tekanan Penguasa Melemah, loc. cit.
167. Albert Camus, Resistance, Rebellion, and Death, New York, Vintage Books, 1960, pp. 102-103.
168. Thomas Risse and Kathryn Sikkink, 'The Socialization of International Human Rights Norms into Domestic Practices: Introduction' in Risse, Ropp, and Sikkink (et.al), The Power of Human Rights: International Norms and Domestic Chang, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1999, pp. 1-38.