The Fifth Season (26 page)

Nuri remembered how, at the time, Hababli had promised the military that the ships would all be refurbished in Indonesian shipyards. It was when he had orchestrated for the refitting to be completed in India, that the then Minister for Research and Technology had come unstuck, losing his limited support base within the military hierarchy. Nuri watched L.B. fidget like some oversized child, while waiting for his response to her question.

‘The general has assured me that he will contain the students,'
he answered, unconvincingly.
‘General Winarko does not wish to use measures which might
be construed by the international media as excessive. With the death of the students..'

‘What?'
the President's eldest son shouted, angrily,
‘Excessive? Half the
country's towns and cities are under siege by students. Why doesn't he act?'
The Vice President lowered his head, reluctant to engage in this conversation any further.

Vice President Hababli sympathized with them all. He too had become very concerned with the current situation, the recent currency debacle, and the angry mobs outside in the streets. His own financial empire had suffered dramatically since the outset of the current crisis. He wanted to explain to those present that they were not the only ones who were in danger of losing hundreds of millions of dollars should the IMF not move quickly to salvage the nation's economy.

Since he had first been recalled from Europe by the President some twenty years before, L.B. had worked quietly building his own financial empire. Today, through his family holdings, he enjoyed considerable wealth, most of which being derived from the control he had exerted over the Batam Island industrial park, across the straits from Singapore.

There, he and his associates had built an empire consisting of hotels, golf courses, steel-rolling mills and tourist projects, ostensibly to compete with the small island nation across the water. He had appointed one son to the holding company's helm, and the other to oversee his pet project, an aircraft manufacturing plant in Bandung. L.B.'s aviation engineering skills were put to the test, and to his chagrin, the IMF had now insisted that the government close the plant due to its loss-making history.

Hababli gripped the arm rests and pulled himself forward, placing his feet firmly on the carpet. He accepted that his role in this household would always be tenuous, at the best of times. He also understood that he should never, never be seen to be in opposition to those present, having witnessed them vent their spleen on others. L.B. had been as surprised as any other when the President had informed him privately that he would be the new Vice President, but realized that this would not, at any time, place him above any in the First Family. He knew his place; and this often meant that he had to forgo projects to the Suhapto children, or risk appearing to be a threat, to their growing greed. He accepted that the Suhapto children expected their dynasty to last, in perpetuity.

‘I trust General Winarko will do as the Bapak has ordered,'
he offered, hoping that the mention of their father's name would remind them that the President still had the military's support.
‘We should wait to see what are his
wishes once he returns. In the meantime, you should all remain close to home, as
Winarko has requested. He has placed additional troops around your residences,
and Praboyo's Kostrad security has also deployed soldiers to guard our homes
and families.'
L.B. was pleased that he had in no way appeared to suggest that he was in charge during the
Bapak's
absence. Having mentioned the Army Chief of Staff and General Praboyo's names they appeared placated, remaining silent, as they considered their options.

Several awkward minutes passed before L.B. coughed, and informed the group that he was required elsewhere.

Hababli departed, leaving behind an atmosphere of ominous gloom. For the first time in their lives, the Suhaptos were concerned for their safety, particularly as their father was not there to protect them. Tuti looked at her brothers and sisters, identifying something she had never seen in this household before. Their faces were covered with fear. Suddenly, she broke into tears, and ran sobbing from the room calling for her mother, coming to an abrupt halt in the empty room where, whilst still alive, she could always be found ready to offer comfort, whenever needed.

The realization that her mother could no longer protect them frightened her even further, and Tuti ran sobbing to her own house down the street, watched by the surprised, and heavily armed troops guarding the street outside.

Egypt & Indonesia

The Indonesian President

President Suhapto was assisted into his seat while his entourage waited patiently outside, on the tarmac. The hot, moist, equatorial evening added to their general appearance of fatigue, their expressions reflecting their disappointment in failing to secure the support Indonesia so desperately needed, at that time. The Cairo summit had, in that respect, been a dismal failure for the Republic, and members of the Indonesian contingent were apprehensive as to what they might expect upon their return, knowing that they would arrive amidst mounting civil unrest, as seen on television throughout the day.

President Suhapto had reluctantly canceled his remaining discussions following his Foreign Minister's recommendations to return home. The country was in disarray, the threat of a total collapse imminent. His concern had grown with news of the students' deaths, understanding what grave consequences these might have as his trusted military moved to restore order. His thoughts turned to his family; his children, and grandchildren. General Winarko had assured him that they were safe. He had spoken at length with his son-in-law, General Praboyo, and as a result of their discussion, Suhapto had made his decision to return. He had read something in Praboyo's voice which greatly disturbed him; an echo from the past. The stewardess observed her VIP shiver and moved swiftly to cover the President with a blanket.

Suhapto now understood that there were forces working against him, and that these were not just those of El Nino or international currency speculators. The cool response he had received from what were normally receptive allies had alerted the President to his predicament.

Once considered as the leader of the world's non-aligned nations, Suhapto had been deeply disturbed by the air of indifference encountered amongst the many who had been his friends. He no longer had the support of those who had sworn their loyalty to serve him as their unchallenged leader.

Suhapto knew that even his most trenchant critics would be silenced if he could manage his way out of this crisis. His position was being seriously undermined by elements within his own power-base and Suhapto recognized that he had no choice but to return immediately and deal with the treachery, swiftly. And this, he was determined to do.

As the aircraft carried its precious passenger through the night, he refused to sleep. Instead, he revisited those events in his life which he believed had been instrumental in bringing him to power, and the faces of those whose paths had crossed his. He recalled his childhood, his mother and the difficult days of Dutch colonization, and closed his heavy eyelids, resting his white-haired head comfortably into the padded rest.

****

Had it not been for his mother he would never have made it into civil service. She had remained his strength through the years, and only now did Suhapto recognize that he had, in fact, transferred much of his love from his mother to his late wife. In many ways, they had been so alike, he thought, and yet at the time he had not been conscious of these similarities.

He had entered service against the Allies, joining the Japanese sponsored militia. It was during their occupation of his native Java that he had acquired many of his skills, which he later utilized during the prolonged war for independence. His promotion to senior rank could not have come at a more appropriate time, and Suhapto's heavily-lined face in no way revealed the emotional tide which swept through his heart as the memory of his first child's birth flashed through his mind. He adored his daughter, Nuri, amazed how easily she had accepted those responsibilities his wife had carried until her recent death.

Suhapto still missed the woman, terribly, saddened also that her advice at this perilous time would not be forthcoming. He honored her memory, and how she had played such a major role in their lives and those of others, including his enemies. Ah, yes, his enemies, he mused, acknowledging that these had been numerous over the years, the early contenders mostly gone, only to be replaced by others who coveted the helm. He dismissed these ghosts which threatened his meditation, caring not for the millions who had lost their lives in campaigns he had waged in order that he might remain king.

His mind filled with childhood experiences and the captivating shadow-plays depicting the Ramayana epic as these danced behind their dalang's screens, and he was reminded of the similarities between this art-form and his own journey through life. Suhapto believed that he had become the greatest puppeteer of them all and, as master dalang, would continue to manipulate those beneath him, their movements controlled just as surely as the characters which danced in the shadow-world of the Javanese wayang kulit plays. Overcome by fatigue, the President drifted into a fitful sleep.

Forty-five minutes out of Jakarta's Halim Perdanakusumah Air Force Base where the country's military leadership had been tortured to death by communists decades before, the Indonesian President was woken by his aides and prepared for their imminent arrival.They landed without incident, the aircraft coming to rest directly outside the military terminal, the more than five hundred Special Forces troops inconspicuous in the shadows.

Suhapto stepped down from the aircraft and appeared to be immediately whisked away to the relative safety of his home. Two black limousines swung into view, providing the state-owned television cameras a full view of the leader's arrival, and apparent departure. The broadcast returned to the station's studios, with millions of viewers none the wiser that the former general had, in fact, been secretly ushered away from the scene to a waiting helicopter.

Unaware that many of his closest allies had gathered earlier that evening and decided to end their President's rule, Suhapto's confidence was restored as the capital's lights came into view. The irony that history had again repeated itself was lost on the exhausted leader as his helicopter delivered him safely to the palace.There,minutes later,he stepped down onto the pad and followed the very same footsteps his predecessor had taken, under identical circumstances when he too had been desperately clinging to power.

****

The First Family

When news of the indiscriminate shootings spread across the Republic, the effects were not as General Praboyo had anticipated. Although similar incidents had occurred before, never in the country's history had the media been permitted such access and, in consequence, international satellite

coverage of live sequences filmed by foreign journalists shocked viewers around the world. Across the country, from Sabang to Merauke students refused to be further intimidated, streaming onto the streets demanding the immediate resignation of their President, and for those responsible for the students' deaths to be punished.

The following days witnessed widespread demonstrations throughout Jakarta, effectively bringing the capital to a standstill. Rioting and looting became the order of the day, as tens of thousands vented their anger at those associated with the influential First Family. Shops and offices were closed. Chinese unable to flee overseas barricaded themselves inside their dwellings as the city braced itself against further onslaught.

'Don't go out!' Praboyo had ordered, but it really was not necessary. Alarmed by the growing number of demonstrations calling for her father to resign, Tuti and others in the family clearly understood that it would be foolish to leave the security of their well-guarded homes. She watched her husband's vehicle leave, then went to the phone to call her elder sister.

'Nuri,' she asked, anxious to hear what the rest of her family planned, 'why don't we go to Singapore?'

'No, Bapak insists that we all stay here where he can protect us,' came her reply.

'It's not safe in Singapore?' she asked, incredulous at the suggestion.

'Of course it is!' Nuri snapped. Tension was running high in all their households. She had just returned from a lengthy discussion with the President, more confident now that the current situation would soon be resolved.

'Then why shouldn't we just leave and return when everything returns to normal?' she whined, wishing then that she had just departed without alerting any of her intentions. She listened to her older sister explain that they must remain in the country to demonstrate that they were not concerned with the civil unrest, nor the undisciplined student mobs' disrespectful behavior towards the First Family. Distressed by the pervasive influence Nuri had over their father and other members of their family, Tuti knew that it would not serve her purpose to phone the President directly and seek his permission to leave. Remaining was Nuri's idea, she thought angrily.

They finished their conversation and Tuti returned to the children's room only to find that they were still fighting, bored with having to remain indoors. She screamed at the servants to do something, anything, to occupy their time, then locked herself in her own bedroom, wishing she could escape. Alone, her mood darkened even more as the image of Praboyo in his mistress' arms filled her thoughts.

****

Hani

Hani had never known such pain before. When she awoke, some minutes passed before she could identify her surroundings. The splitting headache reminded her to take the medication the doctor had prescribed, her efforts to reach for the tablets were accompanied by severe pain. It seemed that there was not one bone in her body which did not ache.