#reformasi — Public Fediverse posts

Women’s Rights Pioneer Saparinah Sadli Turns 100, Magdalene.co

Saparinah Sadli: A Century of Curiosity, Courage and Conviction

By Carla Bianpoen, for The Jakarta Post via Magdalene.co, September 3, 2026

As Saparinah Sadli turns 100 on Aug. 24, she stands not only as a witness to a century of Indonesian history, but as an active shaper of the country’s social conscience. A pioneering psychologist, founder of gender studies in Indonesia and fierce defender of human rights, Ibu Sap, as she is fondly known, has turned intellectual thought into bold leadership, combining courage with a distinctly feminine spirit of compassion.

Choosing her own path

Born in 1926 during the Dutch colonial period, Saparinah grew up in a privileged social environment. Her father was a civil servant in the Netherlands Indies administration, giving her access to a European education, yet traditional customs prevailed at home. Her father received the best food, while her brother enjoyed freedoms she did not.

Perhaps it was this early experience that helped shape her independent spirit. Her family steered her toward pharmacy, but Saparinah was inspired instead by the determination of Marie Curie. As a girl, she would climb the tallest tree in the garden and bury herself in books, including Curie’s biography.

Curie became her role model, but it was the human psyche and the dignity of human beings that would become the lifelong focus of her work. After graduating from the Faculty of Pharmacy at Gadjah Mada University in 1953, Saparinah turned to psychology. She earned her bachelor’s degree in 1961, doctorate in 1976 and became a full professor in 1985.

Her academic curiosity eventually became activism. She noticed psychology textbooks often treated women as footnotes, overlooking their different experiences, concerns and aspirations. When the University of Indonesia established its postgraduate Women’s Studies program in 1989, Saparinah revitalized it, building networks with international scholars and turning it into an important center for gender studies and action.

Walking into the palace

Her name is inseparable from the struggle for justice following the May 1998 riots, when women, particularly ethnic Chinese women, were subjected to sexual violence. Saparinah led a delegation of 22 women activists and academics to meet then-president BJ Habibie on July 15, 1998, pressing the government to acknowledge the violence and apologize.

The meeting resulted in Habibie publicly condemning the violence against women. Later that year, the National Commission on Violence Against Women (Komnas Perempuan) was established, with Saparinah as its first chairperson.

Earlier, a statement by women from different academic and professional backgrounds had gathered the support of some 4,000 people. The Women’s Studies program became a space where women from different disciplines could come together, turning scholarship into collective action.

Saparinah’s activism extended beyond gender. She served on the National Commission on Human Rights (Komnas HAM) and was part of the joint fact-finding team investigating the May 1998 riots. She also demonstrated her ability to bring women’s voices directly to centers of power.

In February 1998, when World Bank president James Wolfensohn visited Jakarta, his wife initially sought to meet prominent Indonesian women. Saparinah and the women activists insisted they wanted to meet the decision-maker himself. Wolfensohn changed his schedule and met them at the Hilton Executive Club.

The group presented data on the impact of World Bank economic policies and demanded a role in decision-making. Wolfensohn subsequently acknowledged errors in judgment and took corrective action, an episode reported in Indonesian and international media.

Curious at 100

For all her achievements, Ibu Sap has remained remarkably modest, outspoken and curious. Even at an advanced age, she has kept pace with the times. She once expressed a wish to visit ArtJOG, the contemporary art fair in Yogyakarta, and was happy to stay at a modest hotel while spending hours at the fair engaging with artists and learning about their ideas and creative visions.

Another of her habits is perhaps less intellectual but equally revealing: after every outing, she takes a bath. Even on days when she stays home, she may bathe several times.

Could that be her elixir of longevity? Perhaps the answer is simpler: Saparinah has never stopped being curious, learning and engaging with the world around her.

The Saparinah Sadli Award, launched in 2002 to mark her 75th birthday, reflects the same spirit. It was conceived by women activists who felt there were too many awards recognizing men and too few honoring women. Debra Yatim and Smita Notosusanto were among those who proposed naming the award after Saparinah, a fierce advocate of gender justice and passionate motivator.

Since its first award in 2004, recipients have tackled issues ranging from reproductive rights and environmental advocacy to women’s economic empowerment, gender justice, peace, multiculturalism, child marriage, pluralism and inclusion. The award’s ninth edition this year, with its winner to be announced on Aug. 27, focuses on climate change and related action.

A recipient of the Bintang Mahaputra, one of Indonesia’s highest state honors for outstanding individuals, Saparinah has spent a century showing strength need not be loud. Her example is a lasting lesson in being bold and brave while confronting adversity with femininity, dignity and compassion.

Cheers, Bu Sap, on your 100th birthday.

This post is based on https://magdalene.co/story/saparinah-sadli-a-century-of-curiosity-courage-and-conviction/ and was first published in thejakartapost.com with the title ‘Saparinah Sadli: A century of curiosity, courage and conviction. Featured image credit: Historia.id – President BJ Habibie, together with Saparinah Sadli (seated) and Mely Tan (standing), at the presidential office Bina Graha, Jakarta, on July 15, 1998, discussing the sexual violence experienced by women during the May 1998 riots. (Photo by Carla Bianpoen, featured in the book Tragedi Mei 1998 dan Lahirnya Komnas Perempuan [The May 1998 Tragedy and the Birth of the National Commission on Violence Against Women] by Dewi Anggraeni).

Related:

• https://www.bbc.com/indonesia/articles/c4gen0d3qr8o
• https://www.historia.id/article/presiden-b-j-habibie-mengecam-kekerasan-terhadap-perempuan-dalam-kerusuhan-mei-1998
• https://en.komnasperempuan.go.id/

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Op-Ed 17 August: Odysseus and the Ropes of the Republic by Muhamad Chatib Basri

Odysseus and the Ropes of the Republic

By Muhamad Chatib Basri, Kompas.Id, Aug 17, 2026

The voice was so beautiful, cutting through the silence of the aqua ocean. It made the sailors look around. Searching for its source, even though disaster awaited them. Humans do not become lost because they do not know the way. Sometimes they become lost precisely because they know the way, but they still desire to draw closer.

Homer wrote about this almost 3,000 years ago: the story of Odysseus and the Sirens. Odysseus knew the danger ahead. Still he desired to hear the song. He also knew that when the voice appeared, he would not be able to trust himself. So, he plugged the ears of his oarsmen with wax. Odysseus’ body was tied to the mast. The message was, “Whatever I say, do not free me.”

When the song rang out, Odysseus struggled. Pleaded. Commanded. The oarsmen heard nothing. They kept rowing. The ship was saved not because its captain was strong. It was saved because the captain knew he could be weak. Therefore, he chose to tie himself up while the sea was still calm.

I always remember this story. Last month, millions of people around the world watched it again in Christopher Nolan’s film. At the Harvard Ministerial Forum, where I teach, that old tale is still used as a case study for serving ministers. Power, like the sea, has its own temptations.

This old tale, secretly, is a story about the role of institutions in the economy. Institutions are the ropes to the mast, the bonds a nation ties to itself while its mind is still clear. Because it knows that one day that clarity can fade. That will be when the Sirens begin to sing, printing money to finance waste, loosening the guard rails for immediate results. Odysseus tied himself up because he knew he was not an angel.

James Madison wrote, “If men were angels, no government would be necessary.” Institutions are born not because people are always wise, but because we know we might one day err or act arbitrarily.

Perhaps the best way to read Indonesia’s 81 years of independence is not by how fast we are sailing, but by how we have learned to tie ourselves to the mast. With difficulty. With repeated failures.

In 1998, people gloomily predicted that Indonesia would disintegrate; yet we remained united, and direct elections proceeded peacefully. Ten years later, amid the greatest financial crisis since the Great Depression, our economy still grew 4.6 percent.

Then came the taper tantrum of 2013. I still remember the nights when the sails turned red, the rupiah weakened, and capital flowed out. Seven months later, we exited from the Fragile Five. Then the pandemic. It was tough, but we got through it—financed by savings cultivated over years of careful budgeting.

From this, we learn that what saves an economy isn’t something dramatic. It’s often something that sounds uninteresting: institutions.

Of course, some will object. The New Order, with its fragile institutions limiting power, grew at around 7 percent a year. Then, in the Democratic Reform era, with far better institutions, it only grew at 5 percent. If institutions are that important, why is democracy progressing so much slower than the dictatorship it replaced?

I try to answer this question with a less romantic approach: 80 years of data. Economic growth data comes from the Maddison Project Database and Statistics Indonesia (BPS), and inflation data from the World Bank. I constructed an institutional quality index from five indicators from the Varieties of Democracy (V-Dem) data: limits on executive power, judicial independence, the rule of law, the quality of electoral democracy, and control of corruption. Using this index, through a series of econometric models, I tested whether stronger institutions lead to faster, more stable economic growth and more controlled inflation.

First, institutional quality is unrelated to growth rate. Admirers of the iron fist may smile at this point. But that smile won’t last long. In 1998, our economy shrank by about 13 percent, and per capita income only returned to 1997 levels around eight years later.

Second, the stronger the institutions, the more stable the economy—economists call this lower growth volatility. The relationship is strong and consistent. Sharp fluctuations—for a family—can mean a job lost without warning, prices jumping within a month, or plans to send a child to school being postponed indefinitely.

The institutional index was at its lowest point in the final years of the New Order. From 2004 to 2015, when the index improved, growth volatility declined. This conclusion persists even after accounting for oil and commodity prices, global economic shocks, and the level of prosperity are taken into account.

Third, long-term inflation was cut by more than half—from around 13 percent to below 6 percent—after central bank independence in 1999. The world was indeed experiencing low inflation at that time, but not all countries enjoyed it. We achieved this because of the post-1998 institutional reforms.

Fourth, the direction of the relationship. The quality of today’s institutions predicts tomorrow’s economic stability, not the other way around. History must admit that the 1998 reforms arose from a crisis. Therefore, I refrain from the term “cause and effect”; I prefer to call it a strong association. The rope on the mast doesn’t make a ship go faster. It keeps it from crashing into rocks.

There’s one interesting finding. I let the data find its own time for the sharpest pattern change using the Bai-Perron test. The results were in 1965 and the late 1990s. The procedure never tells the story of a regime change or a crisis, but only reads the numbers. History, it seems, leaves traces in the numbers.

The two fractures tell the same story. By 1965, the printing press had become the cashier of power. By 1998, credit flowed freely, especially to those close to power, without adequate discipline regarding its appropriateness. When the crisis struck, the structure collapsed, and the economy shrank by around 13 percent. Twice the ship came close to the rocks. Twice we paid a heavy price when institutional barriers were too weak.

Following the reforms, the story was different. The global financial crisis of 2008–2009, the taper tantrum of 2013, and the pandemic of 2020. Storms kept coming, but none brought us to a collapse like 1998. It wasn’t that seas became friendlier. What was different, perhaps, were the ropes holding the ship together. The central bank was made independent. Deficits and debt were limited by law. Banking was cleaned up.

Being tied down doesn’t mean being rigid. Odysseus’ ropes were untied after the danger had passed. When the pandemic struck, the deficit fences were loosened through established procedures, with a time limit, and then reattached. Rules may change, but integrity and governance cannot. The ropes may not make us grow faster, but they keep us from drowning.

And there’s another rope we often forget to consider: democracy. Amartya Sen points out that well-being isn’t about how many things we own, but how much we can do and become because of it. This is what he calls capability. People who are silenced, who can’t go to school or get medical treatment, aren’t just poorer. Their life choices become narrower.

That’s why the aspect of freedom is so important in development. That’s why criticism is the cheapest corrective mechanism a nation has. My study with Wihardja and Pradana (2026), using ACLED and Susenas data from 2015–2024, shows that the shrinking middle class is associated with increased demonstrations at the provincial level—even after education, income, and urbanization are taken into account.

And one striking finding is that provinces with more widespread internet access actually record fewer demonstrations. Complaints that have a channel don’t need to take to the streets. Criticism is a valve, not a threat.

I recall my conversation with Amartya Sen (Kompas, 2/12/2021): no major famine has ever occurred in a country that is free, democratic, and has a free press. Democracy may be noisy, perhaps annoying to those in power. But it is that very noise that reminds us when the ship begins to veer off course.

But all those ropes—the institutions they maintain—only last as long as they are remembered. Ironically, a nation’s memory is shorter than we think. The people of Macondo, in García Márquez’s novel, are struck by a plague of insomnia and slowly forget, first the names of objects, then their uses. They affix writing to everything. What they fear most is not forgetting names, but the day when the writing is still legible but no longer means anything. Odysseus binds himself because he knows people can be weak. The people of Macondo write names on objects because they know people can forget. Institutions are necessary because a nation can be both.

This is where my anxiety lies on this 81st birthday. The index shows the quality of our institutions has declined since 2015—the Democracy Report 2026 from V-Dem, University of Gothenburg, shows a similar trend. The knots are loosening one by one. This is where Jon Elster’s (1979) doubts come into play. He was right that in politics, it’s easier to tie others than to tie yourself. The ropes that loosen most quickly aren’t just any ropes, but the ones that bind the hands of those who control the wheel.

But isn’t economic growth still above 5 percent? True. However, institutional weakening rarely sends warnings through growth figures first. What usually moves first is trust. And trust is precisely what those ropes guard.

The Song of the Siren sounds most melodious when the sea is calm. This time we can’t say we don’t know. We do. We’ve seen that reef before.

On the morning of August 17, the flag was raised. We paused and, with choked voices, sang the national anthem Indonesia Raya. That day, we celebrated growth, development, and steps forward. But there was no ceremony for the silent things: the laws that guard, the laws that uphold, the critics that remind. After all, they are the ones who guard us when the siren’s song appears.

This country is indeed not perfect. There are still many complaints here and there. It hasn’t been able to provide for everyone. Yet, on the morning of August 17, the children still lined up. The residents still set up a simple stage in the corner of their lanes. We stood, giving time to our home. Because a home doesn’t have to be perfect to be loved.

And perhaps that is where the heroism of a nation lies: not always in victory, but in the fortitude to keep rowing even in the most difficult situations. Perhaps that’s why Bung Hatta quotes René de Clercq: “There is only one country that is my country. It grows through deeds, and those deeds are my efforts.”

Muhamad Chatib Basri is Visiting Scholar, Harvard CID; Visiting Professor in Practice, LSE (CETEx) and was Minister of Finance of the Republic of Indonesia 2013–2014.

This post is based on https://www.kompas.id/artikel/odysseus-dan-tali-republik.

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Comment: The Dark Gift of May by Budiman Tanuredjo

The Dark Gift of May

By Budiman Tanuredjo, MemoBDM Substack, May 15, 2026

May always brings back memories. For Indonesia it marks the fall of the New Order regime after 32 years of rule. For Catholics, May is the month of Mary, a time for pilgrimage, reflection and inner silence.

This year I took a road trip from Wednesday night to Sunday morning. I traveled from Kerep Cave in Ambarawa to Sendang Sono in Kulonprogo, to Sendang Sriningsih in Klaten, Mojosongo Marian Cave in Solo, Ngrawoh Cave Park in Sragen and finally on to Tritis in Gunung Kidul.

I chose to travel by road so I would meet more people. Along the way I saw the nation at work. Buildings for the red-and-white cooperatives are beginning to appear in a few places. Cooperative cars are everywhere. National Nutrition Agency buildings are visible in various regions to support the free nutritious meal program.

But behind these buildings I sensed unease. How is the country really doing? The question arose again and again. In Sendang Sono, someone asked me why I wasn’t on television anymore. In Klaten, a trader asked me why television rarely reported the complaints of ordinary people. I couldn’t answer all of them. After people started to relax, I asked them: “Why don’t you join one of the [government’s new] cooperatives?” His reply was quiet: “I’m not sure it will work.” He then described his experience with regional bureaucracy — markups, unofficial fees, the fatigue of dealing with the system. “Even Nadiem is facing 18 years. And he was a minister,” he said.

At that moment I realized something: the ordinary people read the country very clearly.

Democracy on the brink

Before leaving Jakarta I chatted in the BacktoBDM guest room with a number of politicians and public figures: Benny K. Harman, Tubagus Hasanuddin, Ahmad Doli Kurnia and senior attorney Petrus Selestinus. One strong impression emerged from that conversation: the 1998 Reform is gradually coming to an end. That doesn’t mean elections are gone or parliament has been dissolved. But the spirit of democracy is gradually ebbing away.

The V-Dem Institute’s 2026 report even states that Indonesia is moving toward electoral autocracy. Democracy remains procedurally in place, but power has become increasingly concentrated and oversight institutions weakened. This phenomenon is described by Steven Levitsky and Lucan Way as competitive authoritarianism.

Modern regimes do not always openly kill democracy. Elections persist. Parties remain vibrant. The media continues to broadcast. But the political arena slowly becomes unbalanced: oversight institutions are weakened, the opposition loses space, the press loses its force as a check, and the law is applied selectively.

Democracy can appear alive from the outside while losing its substantive energy from within. Perhaps that is what we are experiencing today.

The press is losing its bite.

A Reporters Without Borders assessment suggests something similar: Indonesia’s press freedom ranking has fallen sharply, from 111th to 127th in the world. The country is now categorized as “difficult.”

This decline is more than a number. It reflects a new climate: the press is beginning to lose its watchdog function. Noam Chomsky calls this manufactured consent — when the media slowly shifts from acting as a check on power to shaping public agreement with the ruling party’s narrative.

Control does not always come through harsh censorship. Sometimes it comes through fear: fear of losing access, advertising, frequency or proximity to power; fear of an acid attack. As a result, criticism weakens not because it is banned but because people begin to censor themselves.

From democracy to oligarchy

The 1998 Reformasi changes offered great hope. Between 1998 and 2004, press freedom blossomed, a multiparty system emerged, decentralization took hold, and oversight institutions such as the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK), the Constitutional Court (MK) and the Judicial Commission were born.

However, procedural democracy does not automatically produce substantive democracy. Instead we saw party cartelization, transactional politics and the consolidation of a political-economic oligarchy. Parties gradually lost their ideological function and became preoccupied with managing access to state resources.

Democracy has shifted from “power by the people” to “elite competition for power.”

The nation’s spiritual atmosphere has felt stifled in recent times. Too many developments defy common sense: bans on discussions, control of narratives, suppression of criticism, nepotism and the selective application of the law.

All of this recalls the patterns we thought we left behind in 1998.

May should not simply be a ceremony to remember Reformasi. It should be a moment of national reflection. The country needs a national retreat — not one of platitudes and applause, but a space for honesty to confront the situation as it is.

Purchasing power is declining, inequality is widening, democracy is in retreat and public trust is eroding. Without honesty, Reform becomes an annual slogan.

Memo for us

May always reminds us: no power is truly eternal. History also teaches that democracy does not always die by coups. Sometimes it weakens slowly through small compromises and small fears, repeated over and over.

The country’s greatest task today is not simply to hold elections but to preserve the courage to be honest. A republic does not collapse solely because of economic crisis or political conflict. It collapses when too many people choose silence, even though they know something is wrong.

MemoBDM — Memo Nurani Bangsa

Budiman Tanuredjo is a senior journalist, former editor in chief of Kompas newspaper, host of KompasTV’s premiere current affairs talk show “Satu Meja The Forum” (2015 to 2025), author and doctoral student in political science. He now writes to give a voice to the voiceless through his MemoBDM Substack.

This post is based on https://open.substack.com/pub/memobdm/p/kado-kelabu-di-bulan-mei67. Featured image credit: Photographer Erik Prasetya via BBC and TribunNews, 20 Tahun Reformasi dalam Foto, Wanita Hebat Ini Masuk Catatan Sejarah, Ini Peran Mereka, https://medan.tribunnews.com/2018/05/21/20-tahun-reformasi-dalam-foto-wanita-hebat-ini-masuk-catatan-sejarah-ini-peran-mereka.

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Malaysia presents itself as "Truly Asia," but the reality is a dystopia built on exploitation and unfair federalism. The new repressive amendments to the CMA 1998 are designed to silence those who expose how the wealth of the elites is stolen from the people.

https://www.article19.org/resources/repressive-amendments-communications-multimedia-act/

#Malaysia #TrulyAsia #Dystopia #CMA1998 #Article19 #FreedomOfExpression #Censorship #Madani #Reformasi #DigitalRights #Sabah #Sarawak #Exploitation #Activism #MCMC #HumanRights #Law #Politics #Freedom

The failure of the current government to honour the constitutional 40% special grant to Sabah highlights the enduring systemic failure of the Malaysian Federation. Conflating development spending with constitutional debt is viewed as evasion, reinforcing the paternalistic narrative that treats Borneo as an "object of aid" rather than an equal, founding partner. True justice requires rectifying this historical debt.

https://kalvin.my/reformasis-hollow-ring-why-borneo-skeptics-doubt-the-40-promise/

#MA63 #Sabah #Sarawak #Borneo #Reformasi #40percent #constitutionalrights #injustice #malaysiapolitics #federalism #paternalism #antipropaganda #advocacy #borneorights

🕸glané sur le net🕸 Manifestations de masse et les deux mondes de la politique indonésienne: Les manifestations anti-gouvernementales d'août mettent en évidence la croissance d'une sous-culture de protestation de rue qui… #Manifestations #PolitiqueIndonésienne #Protestation #Activisme #Reformasi

Manifestations de masse et les...

Anyway, talking about Dangdut genre, I also loves Rhoma Irama's song. Especially for song titled "Reformasi". Sorry for potato videos.

#runainoue #dangdut #rhomairama #reformasi #sharing

Conozca las 10 ventajas de la reforma pensional
https://www.mintrabajo.gov.co/web/guest/comunicados/2024/abril/conozca-las-10-ventajas-de-la-reforma-pensional #reformapensional #Colombia #reformasí

tuntut #Reformasi 100 Peratus: Enam individu selesai dirakam keterangan #malaysiagazette

https://malaysiagazette.com/2024/03/05/tuntut-reformasi-100-peratus-enam-individu-selesai-dirakam-keterangan/

https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2023/oct/18/australian-based-journalist-kean-wong-arrested-in-malaysia-for-editing-banned-book

The cover of the book #Rebirth: #Reformasi, #Resistance, And #Hope in New Malaysia features a modified version of the coat of arms. Photograph: Serodja/

#KeanWong #Malaysia #NewMandala

Woke up to news that Anwar Ibrahim will be #Malaysia’s next Prime Minister. The cynical me will wait until the swearing in happens with the YDP Agong but I will say that for all my issues with him, and I certainly have many about his #politics, I am feeling the magnitude of this moment as someone who had his political awakening during the #Reformasi era, working with Artis Pro Activ. #GE15 #elections