Quotes of the Day
It's hard to say no to Taufik Kiemas. That much a senior executive from Indonesia's largest foreign investor, U.S. mining giant Freeport McMoRan, knew when he accompanied President Megawati Sukarnoputri's controversial husband to the company's mine site last September. Freeport officials were aware that Taufik had been asking about a chunk of shares in the company's Indonesian operations previously held by Mohamad ("Bob") Hasan, a confidant of former President Suharto. Indeed, the issue of the shares came up soon after the Freeport executive boarded the presidential C-130 aircraft carrying Taufik and a 40-member entourage. With Hasan serving a lengthy jail sentence for corruption, the executive was told, the 4.7% stake in PT Freeport Indonesia was in limbo. As a committed nationalist, Taufik told the executive, he—and the President—felt it would be best if the stake remained in Indonesian hands. The executive smiled politely, sources close to the company say, then said he would have to get back on this to his bosses in the U.S.
The story of how Taufik sought to keep a chunk of Freeport shares under Indonesian ownership—which he himself confirms—is one example of what is today Jakarta's hottest topic: the increasingly dominant role the President's husband is exercising at the most senior levels of government and business. This isn't another case of your regular, pushy presidential spouse playing gatekeeper, but of a consummate networker aggressively meddling in matters with national ramifications. To many Indonesians, the flamboyant 58-year-old Taufik is now simply the most powerful man in the country. "If Megawati is Number One and Vice President Hamzah Haz Number Two," says Alvin Lie, an M.P. for the opposition National Mandate Party, "then Taufik is One-and-a-Half."
Taufik's influence doesn't come solely from his three-decade marriage to the President. Of the pair, he has always been the political animal. He persuaded a reluctant Megawati to enter politics in the first place, and wielded a powerful voice in the councils of her Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle. But it is typical of the quantum leap his stature and influence have taken since Megawati became President a year ago that, though he is only an ordinary M.P., the President's husband is now "de facto chairman" of the party, says senior M.P. Haryanto Taslam. Controlling the largest party in the country's legislature has given Taufik the opportunity to put those loyal to him in key positions, politicians and analysts say. The perception is that people linked to him—many of them men from his hometown of Palembang in Sumatra—run everything from key committees in parliament to agencies such as the state workers' pension fund to the debt recovery agency. And if his opponents are to be believed, hardly a major policy decision can go through the Cabinet without his approval. The practical benefit of having friends in important government positions was vividly displayed last week in a July 4 ceremony presided over by Taufik in Palembang, where the South Sumatra Governor and the head of the state toll-road company, also a Palembang native and close Taufik ally, signed an agreement for the construction of a $70 million toll road. The 23-kilometer highway, which will link Palembang to a nearby town, will be the first of its kind built outside the country's main island of Java. From the day she took office, President Megawati has continually stressed the importance of clean government and her determination to root out corruption. That's hardly surprising considering the billions of dollars that disappeared in behind-the-scenes influence peddling and cronyism during Suharto's time. There's no evidence that Taufik has done anything illegal. But his casual assumption of presidential prerogatives, his unabashed wheeling and dealing and the memory of Suharto-style backroom deals that clings to those activities have set alarm bells ringing in Jakarta. Speculation on the actions and intentions of the President's husband reminds Indonesians of the opaqueness of the Suharto era and raises fresh questions about how open the country is really becoming. "There will be no good governance so long as Taufik does not restrain himself from grabbing the power his wife has," says Eros Djarot, formerly a close Megawati friend and adviser who has found himself sidelined since she became President, in part because of disagreements over her husband's conduct.
The President herself now seems to realize that her husband's burgeoning power poses a p.r. problem. She has steadfastly resisted his numerous requests—sometimes voiced in public, most recently in an interview with the influential newsweekly Tempo—to appoint one of his own closest aides to the critical post of Cabinet Secretary, the official who acts as the chief intermediary between the President and her Cabinet and thus wields tremendous influence over policy decisions. "She knows that if she gives in on this that Taufik will control everything," says a source close to Megawati. Even Taufik loyalists express concern. "He uses his influence; he wants to make sure Megawati is effective as the President," says Rizal Mallarangeng, an academic who is a close friend of Taufik's. "But whether it's for good or bad depends on who you ask."
Politicking is second nature to Taufik, whom associates and adversaries alike characterize as a shrewd operator and a natural networker. "He's a grassroots politician in the populist tradition," says Rizal Ramli, a minister in the administration of Abdurrahman Wahid, Megawati's predecessor. Those characteristics explain much of Taufik's current behavior, friends say. "He knows the perils and dangers of being political and the President's spouse, and yet he has embraced his position as a power broker," says Jeffrey Winters, an American academic and author of numerous books on Indonesia who is also personally close to both the President and Taufik.
Taufik admits in an interview with TIME to "sometimes helping as a mediator," but he flatly denies making any money from the deals he arranges. He does acknowledge, however, that it's hard for Indonesians to believe that no commissions are involved, not least because they have witnessed a history of spousal abuse: Suharto's late wife, Tien, was widely known as Madame Tien Percent. "Everyone was afraid of her when she was at home," says Taufik, "let alone when she went out." But while Suharto's family members squeezed the government for contracts and concessions, Taufik is not interested in taking on projects for himself. No toll roads, no national cars, no monopolies. "The Suharto businesses were easier to track because there were documents," says Teten Masduki, head of Indonesian Corruption Watch, which is not monitoring Taufik. "Taufik uses a lot of operators and also his political influence."
One case involved Bumi Resources, a small energy business run by the Bakrie clan, which has interests ranging from real estate to palm oil to telecommunications. Lately, the Bakries have experienced difficulty raising capital due to the underperformance of the conglomerate as a whole. When Bumi Resources needed $150 million to buy Indonesia's second largest private coal company, it received it from the state-run workers pension fund—Jamsostek—and the country's largest bank, Bank Mandiri. A businessman intimate with the deal says Taufik supported Bumi's funding requests. Not so, says a spokesperson for the Bakrie Group of companies, and when asked about the transaction, Taufik told TIME: "I don't have any business with (the bank and pension fund)."
Part of Taufik's problems stem from the perception of the company he keeps. The President's husband recently met Tomy Winata, one of the country's wealthiest ethnic-Chinese businessmen and a man known for his close ties to the gambling underworld. Taufik and some family members (but not Megawati) were vacationing on an island owned by Winata. Taufik also famously conducted a prolonged shopping spree in New York City with Jacob Nursalim, the nephew of Syamsul Nursalim, one of Indonesia's largest debtors. Indeed, as TIME wrapped up an interview with Taufik at his home on a recent Saturday morning, Jacob could be seen waiting in the wings, tying the shoes of Taufik's three-year-old granddaughter and preparing Taufik's bags to be carried to the car. "I've known Pak Taufik since 1997," Jacob remarks, but says he has "no comment" on the relationship between the two. Taufik says that his friendship with Jacob did not influence the government's plan last year to substantially ease repayment terms for Syamsul Nursalim and other businessmen who owe the country billions of dollars—a plan that was scrapped after a public backlash.
When Taufik and Megawati married in 1973, he was penniless and newly released from a seven-year jail term imposed for his pro-Sukarno political activism as a student. Taufik worked his way up from selling kerosene door-to-door to owning nine gas stations that, he says, remain his chief source of income, netting him about $100,000 a month. Under transparency laws passed after Suharto's ouster, the couple made an obligatory declaration of their assets, which totaled some $6 million.
What the President thinks of her husband's activities remains, as so much with this taciturn lady, something of an enigma. After almost three decades of marriage, Megawati's friends say the relationship is strained and sometimes openly acrimonious, and that the President frets at her husband's excesses but often can do little to control them. That's because she needs Taufik as much or more than he needs her. "If it weren't for Taufik, Mega would not be President," says former minister Ramli. For Megawati, who inherited the name of her father, first President Sukarno, but not much of his charisma, Taufik's ability to build coalitions with potentially hostile political factions has provided a critical counterbalance to the silence and sense of entitlement of his notoriously aloof wife. With presidential and parliamentary elections looming in 2004, Taufik's role is more critical than ever.
But what troubles Megawati's friends is the thought that the man who helped get her to the presidency could also lose it for her. Some Megawati supporters worry that the President could fall victim to her husband's increasingly brazen mixing of his personal, political and business lives. That's something Taufik himself is aware of. He told TIME: "This is a transitional period we're going through. We're going to make mistakes. There's a lot I have to learn, and I don't want to become one of the factors that brings down the President." For Taufik Kiemas, that may be the price of power.
- Simon Elegant/Jakarta
- Taufik Kiemas, husband of Indonesian President Megawati, might be the country's most powerful man