Skip to content

Category: Opini

Opini LBHM

Yang Paling Penting Tetap Cinta dan Pengorbanan

Skenario kedua terburuknya, kita melihat keluarga/teman kita tersangkut masalah narkoba dan menjadi pecandu. Ia kita anggap sebagai orang yang sakit yang perlu disembuhkan, jadi kita membawanya ke siapapun yang menjanjikan bisa membereskan masalah itu, dari dukun sampai dokter berjas. Ia masih juga pakai diam-diam sementara kita sudah muak dengan ketelerannya dan selalu menetapkan, “Pokoknya, ini yang terakhir kali.” Akhirnya, karena tidak bisa menolongnya juga, hubungan antara kita dan keluarga/teman kita itu merenggang sampai titik di mana ketika kita melihatnya lagi, kita menganggap ia telah menjadi jauh berbeda dari yang dulu kita pernah kenal dan kenang.

Skenario terburuk pertamanya, kitalah yang menjadi pecandu itu.

Khalayan skenario-skenario di atas diperlukan untuk mendalami suatu masalah; di Indonesia, narkotika masih dianggap sebagai suatu masalah besar. Tapi khalayan punya keterbatasan. Pertama, tidak semua orang bisa mengkhayal dengan serius, banyak yang berhenti di tengah-tengah sebelum masalah yang sebenarnya dimulai. Kalau kita membayangkan menjadi pecandu seperti di atas, kita mungkin berhenti membayangkan pada kejadian overdosis, padahal yang terburuk mungkin bukan itu. Keterbatasan kedua, khayalan seseorang tidak akan jatuh terlalu jauh dari koridor pengetahuannya yang disusun oleh media, institusi pendidikan, dan agen-agen kebudayaannya. Dengan kata lain, apa yang dikhayalkan di atas belum tentu sesuai dengan realitanya, karena khayalan di atas hanya disusun oleh stereotipe-stereotipe yang kita miliki tentang pecandu narkotika.

Saya senang jika bisa menemukan buku yang bisa menjungkirkbalikkan stereotipe-stereotipe itu sehingga daya khayal saya lebih luas. Untuk urusannya dengan masalah narkoba, buku yang pantas dengan predikat di atas adalah buku “Chasing the Scream: The First and The Last Days of The War on Drugs” karya Johann Hari. Buku yang menerangkan secara terperinci kebijakan beberapa negara untuk menanggulangi narkotika dan orang-orang yang terdampak langsung karenanya ini memberikan saya dua pelajaran. Saya tidak akan pernah lagi membayangkan masalah narkotika tanpa memikirkan dua pelajaran ini.

Hidup-matinya Terminologi Canggih

Dari awal sejarah, manusia telah mengenali perang. Karena kebiadabannya, perang makin lama makin tidak populer. Namun, bagi beberapa orang, istilah ini masih bisa didaur-ulang untuk menunjukkan seberapa seriusnya negara menghadapi suatu permasalahan. Narkotika dipandang serius sejak awal tahun 1940an, sehingga dimulai dari Amerika Serikat, istilah “perang terhadap narkotika” digaungkan.

Perang terhadap narkotika ini adalah terminologi yang canggih sebab masyarakat akan selalu diingatkan bahwa mereka sedang ada di dalam kondisi darurat yang tidak tahu sampai sejauh mana sebuah tindakan penanganan bisa dilakukan. Agar bisa terus hidup, terminologi ini membutuhkan terminologi-terminologi lain yang bisa menyokongnya. Contohnya, terminologi perang terhadap narkotika di Amerika juga menciptakan perang kartel di Meksiko. Kebijakan perang terhadap narkotika di Amerika yang menutup banyak suplai narkotika dalam negeri tanpa menurunkan permintaan, membuat kartel-kartel di Meksiko berlomba-lomba untuk menyelundupkan narkoba. Di Meksiko juga, geng-geng ini tambah kuat dan membunuh siapapun yang menghadangnya.

Perang terhadap narkotika di Indonesia juga memunculkan terminologi-terminologi canggih lainnya. Pemerintah mengatakan bahwa kita menghadapi masalah narkotika serius sekarang ini – sebuah klaim yang tidak berubah sejak Soeharto masih hidup dan rajin mengeluarkan Inpres. Lewat hukum dan media, kita menghubungkan narkotika dengan kejahatan. Segala kegiatan yang melibatkan narkotika dianggap sebagai kejahatan terorganisi (organized crime) atau kejahatan luar biasa (extraordinary crime). Makanya setiap berkas orang-orang yang tertangkap penyidik karena kepemilikan narkotika, entah ia ingin memakainya hanya untuk teler sendirian atau untuk diobral lagi di kompleks perumahannya seperti layaknya penjual gayung keliling, selalu dimasukkan ke folder kasus kriminal khusus, setara dengan korupsi dan trafficking.

Karena kejahatannya sudah ‘dianggap’ seserius ini, maka tindakan penanggulangannya pun harus dibuat seserius mungkin. Makanya untuk kejahatan narkotika, ada teknik penangkapan yang dibuat khusus. Ada teknik penangkapan pembelian terselubung (undercover buy), juga ada teknik penyerahan di bawah pengawasan (controlled delivery). Kedua teknik ini mengumpamakan terpidana narkotika sebagai pelaku kejahatan yang rumit dan berbahaya, walaupun kedua jenis teknik ini juga dipakai untuk menangkap bandar kecil atau pemakai.

Saking njelimet-nya kejahatan ini, perlu ada intel khusus narkotika. Untuk intel ini, kita punya bahasa yang membumi tapi tidak berkurang kecanggihannya: cepu. Cepu, yang kadang-kadang direkrut dari sesama penyintas sel tahanan, punya posisi rumit dalam belantara kepolisian Indonesia. Jasanya banyak tapi ketika ditanyakan keberadaannya di kepolisian, mereka tidak pernah diakui. Tanpa pendidikan profesional, mereka telah mengamalkan slogan intel yang sebenar-benarnya: mati tidak dicari, berhasil tidak dipuji.

Slogan canggih tidak hanya diciptakan di institusi penegak hukum. Demi apa yang dinamakan moral, beberapa lembaga merasa bahwa semua anggotanya harus bersih dari narkotika. Kampus-kampus melakukan sidak dan tes acak, sebab daripada sulit untuk menaikkan akreditasi atau mengembangkan penelitian-penelitian baru, lebih mudah menyandang kampus predikat bebas narkotika. Instansi pemerintahan pun melakukannya. Ketika kedapatan pemakai narkotika di instansi tersebut, maka ramailah slogan baru: narkoba masuk kampus, narkoba masuk kementerian. Sudut pemberitaannya dibuat benar-benar nelangsa sehingga penonton akan merasa bahwa citra sebuah lembaga telah jatuh dan bersamaan dengan itu, moral pun telah runtuh.

Sementara orang-orang yang ketahuan pemakai masih harus melewati serangkaian prosedur-prosedur ‘kelembagaan’. Bagi mahasiswa, mungkin mereka bisa di-DO. Dosen diberhentikan dan tidak diberikan surat rekomendasi untuk melamar ke tempat lain. Pegawai kementerian bisa di-SP3, dicutikan sementara (kalau jabatannya penting), diberhentikan tidak hormat (kalau jabatannya tidak penting-penting amat), di-PHK.

Dengan semua termin-termin ini, kita dibuat yakin bahwa perang terhadap narkotika perlu ada. Padahal apa yang kita buat dan ciptakan, mungkin saja mengalienasi para pemakai ke kondisi di mana mereka tidak akan bisa kembali ke masyarakat sebagai manusia utuh. Lalu pada saat itu, seperti khayalan yang kita mulai di awal tulisan, kita dengan semena-mena melupakan tindakan-tindakan apa yang sudah kita buat untuk mengalienasinya dan menyatakan bahwa orang yang kita kenal sudah berubah karena narkoba, bukan karena kita.

Tentang Adiksi yang Tidak Selalu Terjadi karena Zatnya

Pelajaran kedua yang bisa didapatkan dari buku Johann Hari adalah betapa dalam dan rumitnya adiksi pada diri satu orang. Buku ini membantah anggapan bahwa adiksi terjadi semata-mata karena sang zat yang tersusun di narkotika itu. Menurutnya, adiksi yang kita kenal sekarang juga ada akibat hubungan sosial antara orang lain, pengalaman traumatis masa lalu, dan kebijakan narkotika di suatu negara.

Banyak orang lari ke narkotika ketika mereka sudah tidak memiliki pilihan lain. Bagi mayoritas masyarakat yang dilindungi oleh pendidikan yang mumpuni dan keluarga yang baik-baik, memakai narkotika, apalagi sampai rutin, adalah sebuah ide yang tak terpikirkan. Tetapi bagi sebagian orang, narkotika menjadi satu-satunya pemecah masalah kehidupan. Hal ini contohnya berlaku bagi anak yang dibuang oleh keluarganya, orang-orang yang trauma setelah pulang dari perang, orang-orang yang dihimpit kemiskinan sehingga mereka sudah putus asa pada pertolongan manusia atau orang-orang di sekitarnya.

Seorang pasien di klinik ketergantungan obat di Kanada berkata dalam buku ini, “[Orang-orang] bertanya mengapa [pecandu] terus memakai? Karena itu membuat mereka merasa nikmat, sementara hal lain dalam hidupnya tidak membuat mereka merasa nikmat.” (hal. 163)

Di video-videonya, Johann Hari sering memberikan metafora “Taman Tikus” untuk menggambarkan kondisi yang dihadapi pengguna narkotika. Metafora ini berasal dari dua buah percobaan. Percobaan pertama dilakukan pada tahun 1980-an oleh Partnership for Drug-Free America dengan mengurung sejumlah tikus di tempat yang hanya berisi dua tabung, satu tabung berisi air biasa dan satunya lagi berisi air campur kokain. Sembilan dari sepuluh tikus lebih menyukai air yang mengandung kokain dan mereka terus mengonsumsinya sampai mati. Percobaan ini ditantang balik oleh seorang ilmuwan Kanada bernama Bruce Alexander. Ia merasa bahwa percobaan tikus dalam kurungan itu tidak dibuat dengan kondisi yang mencerminkan kehidupan manusia karena membatasi hidup tikus ini hanya pada dua tabung dan dinding kaca mereka. Maka ia membuat sesuatu yang mirip dengan taman tikus, ada roda hamster, taman, makanan yang banyak, dan lain-lain, sambil tetap mempertahankan dua tabung minum di situ, yang satu diisi air biasa dan satu diisi air campur morfin. Hasilnya berbeda: tikus-tikus di percobaan yang kedua lebih memilih air biasa ketimbang air campur morfin. Tikus-tikus yang diberikan pilihan akan jenis-jenis kesenangan hidup lain tidak memilih narkotika.

Tetapi memang hal-hal ini tidak bisa digeneralisir. Tetap ada orang-orang yang bisa menghadapi masalah trauma dan keterputusan hubungan sosial tanpa narkotika. Begitu pula, pasti ada orang-orang yang menjadi pecandu meskipun mereka memiliki hubungan sosial yang baik dengan orang-orang di sekitarnya. Tapi orang-orang yang miskin dan marginal lebih berisiko, dan hal ini telah dibuktikan baik oleh penelitian, baik yang mendukung perang terhadap narkotika dan yang tidak.

Kebijakan narkotika juga pada akhirnya bisa membuat seseorang menjadi pecandu. Di buku Johann Hari, kita banyak diceritakan hidup menjadi orang kulit hitam di Amerika. Karena tidak ada institusi pendidikan yang mumpuni, anak remaja lebih sering keluar ke jalan dan bergabung dengan geng-geng yang terbentuk di perkampungannya. Beberapa anak di geng itu memberikan narkotika, entah sebagai insiasi atau hanya sukarela. Lantaran mereka tidak punya uang sementara harga narkotika di jalan selangit, mereka akhirnya melakukan beberapa tindakan kriminal: mencuri, menodong, merampok. Segala perbuatan ini makin meresahkan masyarakat sehingga polisi dipanggil untuk menangkap mereka.

Kita juga bisa membayangkan ini terjadi dalam konteks Indonesia. Hanya cukup mengganti frase orang kulit hitam dengan orang miskin atau anak putus sekolah.

Di banyak negara yang menerapkan perang terhadap narkotika, kita melihat bagaimana pelaksanaan perangnya berlaku diskriminatif. Sementara AS memenjarakan lebih banyak kulit hitam akibat narkotika dibandingkan kulit putih, di Indonesia kita melihat bahwa penghuni penjara adalah pengguna narkotika dari kalangan masyarakat kurang mampu. Orang-orang kaya yang ketahuan memakai narkotika bisa melanggeng bebas di tempat rehab bagus dan keluar sewaktu-waktu kalau ada jadwal manggung, jadwal dokter, atau urusan lain. Hukum yang berlaku diskriminatif ini menyebabkan seseorang yang marginal masuk lebih dalam ke masalah narkotika. Sementara orang-orang berduit bisa hidup dengan lebih baik karena diperlakukan juga dengan lebih baik.

Semua hal ini turut berperan dalam keberlangsungan adiksi narkotika seseorang. Dengan demikian upaya memerangi ketergantungan narkotika akan sia-sia jika hanya fokus pada pemusnahan barangnya saja. Upaya memerangi ketergantungan narkotika juga perlu untuk memperhatikan realita kehidupan pecandu dan hubungan mereka dengan masyarakat di sekitarnya.

Kembali ke Judul

Kebijakan perang terhadap narkotika menciptakan terminologi-terminologi baru yang mengalienasi pecandu narkotika ke penjara, ke keadaan tidak memiliki pendidikan, ke kondisi pengangguran. Perang terhadap narkotika itu juga yang membuat seolah-olah hal itu penting untuk menyembuhkan mereka, tetapi pada kenyataannya hal itu membawa para pecandu ke tubir keputusasaan yang lebih dalam.

Kita beragumen tentang locus delicti dari kasus narkotika, tapi luput memperhatikan lingkungan di mana pengguna hidup, belajar tentang kekerasan, dan tidak bisa keluar dari geng-geng kecil. Kita mencari modus operandi dalam kejahatan narkotika, tapi abai pada pertanyaan bagaimana caranya setiap hari seorang pemakai bisa bertahan di lingkaran kemiskinan yang sedemikian rupa. Kita mencari motif/niat/kehendak untuk membuktikan kesalahan pengguna narkotika di depan persidangan, tapi secara sistematis melupakan alasan apa yang mendorong orang itu menggunakan narkotika dan terus menggunakannya. Terakhir, kita sibuk mencari alat bukti, memeriksa setiap benda yang punya rongga dan memaksa setiap orang menjadi saksi; tapi kita tidak kunjung bisa memberikan bukti bahwa penahanan dan pemisahan punya makna perbaikan.

Menarik kesimpulan dari paparan di atas, kebijakan narkotika akan menjadi lebih baik kalau humanis. Kita telah memiliki terminologi-terminologi dasar yang tidak terdengar keren untuk dijadikan program pemerintah tapi berguna. Terminologi itu seperti cinta kasih, perhatian, persahabatan, perlindungan kerja, kesempatan mengenyam pendidikan, perawatan, dan lain-lain. Terminologi ini sederhana tetapi teruji keampuhannya oleh sejarah.

Maka judul yang dibuat bukanlah semata-mata ucapan pasifis yang dipilih karena tidak terpikir judul lain. Ilmu pengetahuan modern dan agama-agama sama-sama setuju bahwa perlakuan satu manusia terhadap manusia yang lain paling baik jika dilandasi oleh cinta dan pengorbanan, maka begitu pun juga harusnya perlakuan kita pada pengguna narkotika, atau begitu pun seharusnya kebijakan narkotika di dunia. Tentu pembaca boleh tidak setuju dan memilih judul yang terdengar lebih keren semacam, “Yang Paling Penting adalah Perang dan Pemusnahan”, atau “Yang Paling Penting adalah Bersih dan Abstinen”. Tapi, kalau judul-judul semacam itu yang dipakai, kita harus rela untuk hidup di dunia yang lebih memprioritaskan tujuan ketiadaan suatu zat di atas nyawa manusia itu sendiri.

 

Ditulis oleh: Albert Wirya

Perempuan Kurir Narkotika: Kerentanan yang Terlupakan

Hari ini, 8 Maret, adalah peringatan Hari Perempuan Internasional. Gagasan mengenai Hari Perempuan Internasional muncul pada tahun 1910 di Konferensi Internasional Pekerja Perempuan oleh Clara Zetkin, ketua Women’s Office untuk Partai Sosial Demokrat di Jerman.[1] Perayaan Hari Perempuan Internasional merupakan selebrasi global dan panggilan untuk kesetaraan jender.[2] Hingga hari ini masih banyak terdapat persoalan kesetaraan jender dan diskriminasi perempuan, tetapi masih ada satu persoalan yang sepertinya belum mendapat perhatian dari banyak pihak yakni perempuan yang terlibat dalam peredaran gelap narkotika sebagai kurir narkotika.

April 2015, Mary Jane Veloso, perempuan berkebangsaan Filipina nyaris dieksekusi oleh Indonesia karena dituduh terlibat dalam peredaran gelap narkotika sebagai kurir. Mary Jane telah menempuh segala upaya hukum, namun tidak ada ampunan kepadanya, bahkan dari Presiden Joko Widodo. Sebagian masyarakat Indonesia maupun komunitas internasional kemudian bersuara mendesak Presiden Joko Widodo agar Mary Jane tidak dieksekusi. Gerakan masyarakat pun menunjukkan kekuatannya. Pada detik-detik terakhir Mary Jane akan dieksekusi, Presiden Joko Widodo tiba-tiba membatalkan rencana eksekusi terhadap Mary Jane.

Mary Jane hanyalah satu dari daftar panjang perempuan yang telah dieksploitasi menjadi kurir narkotika. Pada bulan Januari 2015, Indonesia mengeksekusi mati Rani Andriani karena menjadi kurir narkotika dalam perjalanan menuju ke Thailand. Kemudian ada kasus Mut, EYS, I dan N.[3] Sampai hari ini, belum ada tanda-tanda yang menunjukkan bahwa daftar panjang ini akan berhenti. Kepala Badan Narkotika Nasional (BNN) ketika itu, Anang Iskandar, menyatakan bahwa sepanjang tahun 2014 saja ada 4.297 perempuan Indonesia yang terlibat dalam peredaran narkotika. Umumnya mereka menjadi kurir narkotika baik di dalam maupun luar negeri.[4] Perekrutan perempuan menjadi kurir narkotika dilakukan dengan berbagai cara namun menggunakan pola yang sama: memanfaatkan kerentanan perempuan.

Hukum narkotika Indonesia yang mengadopsi paradigma ‘perang terhadap narkotika’ memberikan hukuman berat kepada kurir narkotika dengan pidana maksimal pidana mati. Sikap negara yang keras terhadap kurir narkotika dan hukum yang tidak peka terhadap jender semakin memojokkan perempuan yang sedari awal memiliki posisi tawar sangat rendah dibandingkan dengan laki-laki karena relasi kuasa yang timpang. United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) menyatakan bahwa perempuan yang lemah secara pendidikan, ekonomi ataupun menjadi korban kekerasan seringkali dimanfaatkan oleh para sindikat dalam peredaran gelap narkotika.[5] Pola untuk merekrut kurir perempuan dilakukan dengan membentuk relasi personal dengan korban melalui hubungan pacaran ataupun pernikahan.[6] Dalam kondisi seperti ini sindikat memanfaatkan ketergantungan ekonomi dan psikologis perempuan ataupun dengan ancaman kekerasan.

Pola rekrutmen lainnya adalah di mana sindikat secara khusus memang mengincar perempuan yang miskin dan membutuhkan pekerjaan. Selain itu, pola rekrutmen dengan menjebak perempuan untuk membawa atau mengantarkan sejumlah narkotika tanpa sepengetahuan korban juga kerap kali dilakukan. Bisa dikatakan, pola pengeksploitasian perempuan semacam ini adalah suatu tindakan yang terencana dengan sistematis oleh sindikat. Sulistyowati Irianto, dkk. menyatakan bahwa pola rekrutmen perempuan narkotika yang sistematis dan terorganisir seperti itu merupakan bentuk perdagangan perempuan.[7] Adanya perekrutan atau transportasi perempuan dengan ancaman kekerasan; penipuan; pemaksaan dengan kekerasan; jeratan utang untuk tujuan menempatkan atau menahan perempuan, apakah dibayar atau tidak, dapat dikategorikan sebagai perdagangan perempuan.[8]

Dengan kacamatanya yang punitif, aparat penegak hukum pun tidak lagi melihat persoalan kerentanan perempuan ketika menangani dan memutus sebuah perkara narkotika. Sulistyowati Irianto, dkk., mengungkapkan bahwa ketika unsur pasal telah terpenuhi dalam memutus perkara perempuan kurir narkotika, hakim tidak lagi mempertimbangkan faktor kerentanan dan kemiskinan perempuan dalam putusan mereka.[9]

Perekrutan perempuan menjadi kurir narkotika, yang merupakan bagian dari perdagangan perempuan, diperparah dengan ancaman hukuman mati atau hukuman berat lainnya kepada perempuan kurir narkotika. Perempuan, akhirnya, menjadi salah satu kelompok masyarakat yang paling dirugikan dalam perang terhadap narkotika.

Dalam perang terhadap narkotika, perempuan yang sudah rentan dieksploitasi harus berhadapan dengan hukuman mati dan puluhan tahun penjara karena posisinya yang lemah. Oleh karena itu, negara harus menimbang ulang kebijakan narkotikanya yang punitif dan menghapus hukuman mati untuk tindak pidana narkotika sebagai langkah awal perlindungan hukum terhadap perempuan. Negara harus melihat perempuan sebagai bagian dari korban perdagangan perempuan bukan pelaku utama peredaran narkotika. Sebab, hukum dan kebijakan negara haruslah responsif terhadap jender dan memberikan perlindungan terhadap perempuan, bukannya justru merugikan perempuan.

 

Penulis: Arinta Dea Dini Singgi, Staf Pengembangan Program LBH Masyarakat yang memiliki minat di isu perempuan dan narkotika. Tulisan penulis lainnya dapat diakses melalui arintadds.wordpress.com

Editor: Yohan Misero

 

[1] Lihat misalnya http://www.internationalwomensday.com/About untuk mengetahui tentang Hari Perempuan Internasional.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Penulis sengaja tidak mencantumkan nama lengkap mereka karena kasusnya yang sedang berjalan di Indonesia.

[4] “4.297 Wanita Indonesia Kurir Narkoba Internasional”, https://nasional.tempo.co/read/news/2014/12/22/063630260/4-297-wanita-indonesia-kurir-narkoba-internasional. Menariknya dan ironisnya, pemerintah – dalam hal ini BNN dan Kementerian Pemberdayaan Perempuan dan Perlindungan Anak (PPPA) – sudah mengakui bahwa perempuan seringkali dimanfaatkan sebagai kurir narkotika, tetapi belum ada upaya komprehensif pemerintah untuk mengatasi persoalan ini. Lihat misalnya, “Perempuan Rentan Jadi Kurir Narkoba”, http://www.indopos.co.id/2014/09/perempuan-rentan-jadi-kurir-narkoba.html.

[5] Satgas PBB untuk Kejahatan Internasional Lintas Negara dan Perdagangan Narkotika sebagai Ancaman terhadap Keamanan dan Stabilitas, “A Gender Perspective on the Impact of Drug Use, the Drug Trade, and Drug Control Regime”, Juli 2014.

[6] Khoirun Hutapea, “Pola-pola Perekrutan, Penggunaan dan Kegiatan Kurir dalam Jaringan Peredaran Narkoba Internasional”, Juni 2011, hal. 64.

[7] Sulistyowati Irianto, dkk., “Perdagangan Perempuan Dalam Jaringan Pengedaran Narkotika”, 2005, Jakarta: Yayasan Obor Indonesia.

[8] Aliansi Global Melawan Perdagangan Perempuan, “Hak Asasi Manusia dalam Pelaksanaan: Panduan untuk Membantu Perempuan dan Anak yang Diperdagangkan, 1999, hal. 11-12.

[9] Op.Cit.

Para Pendekar di Sudut-Sudut Gelap Kota

“Demi Keadilan Berdasarkan Ketuhanan Yang Maha Esa…Pengadilan Negeri… telah menjatuhkan Putusan sebagai berikut…Mengadili…menyatakan bahwa terdakwa secara sah dan meyakinkan terbukti bersalah… menjatuhkan hukuman… penjara.”

Melakukan pekerjaan-pekerjaan hukum di ibukota secara umum menjanjikan beberapa hal yang menyenangkan: uang, jabatan, atau, setidak-tidaknya, ketenaran. Jakarta adalah pusat pemerintahan dan juga pusat ekonomi. Bayangkan betapa banyak kepentingan yang berseliweran di ruas-ruas jalannya.  Bayangkan apa yang orang rela lakukan demi mengecap sedikit kejayaan. Hukum, kemudian, dapat menjadi alat yang sempurna untuk meraih banyak hal. Dari sana, para pekerja hukum, sebagai prajurit-prajurit kepentingan, berargumen, berdebat, bersidang, melakukan apa pun yang diperlukan untuk memenangkan pertandingan.

Di luar riuhnya semua janji-janji Jakarta, ada beberapa insan yang tak memperdulikan semua itu dan memberikan waktu dan ilmunya bagi kepentingan yang tak mampu memberinya uang, jabatan, dan ketenaran. Insan-insan yang menemukan dirinya dalam pengabdian. Insan-insan yang memperoleh kesadaran bahwa ada yang lebih indah daripada gemerlapnya ibukota.

Kepentingan-kepentingan yang mereka perjuangkan tidak selaras dengan yang masyarakat percaya sebagai sesuatu yang pantas diperjuangkan. Kepentingan-kepentingan yang mereka perjuangkan bahkan, dalam taraf tertentu, diperangi oleh negara.

Pun demikian, mereka tak gentar. Walau masih jauh di ujung jalan, mereka tidak mundur teratur melainkan maju bertarung. Meski sulit, mereka meyakinkan diri bahwa perubahan, bagaimana pun bentuknya, akan, terus, dan pasti terjadi. Mereka tepis anggapan utopis, terus optimis meski dipandang sinis.

Mereka adalah pendekar. Seorang sakti yang memberi dirinya untuk masyarakat. Para pendekar ini hadir di sudut-sudut gelap ibukota. Mereka hadir untuk orang-orang yang mengklaim otonomi atas tubuh sendiri dan diancam dimasukan ke dalam penjara atas nama Undang-Undang Narkotika. Mereka hadir untuk orang-orang yang dibedakan oleh masyarakat karena identitas dan orientasi seksual yang berbeda. Mereka hadir bagi mereka yang berusaha membeli nasi esok hari lewat tubuh. Mereka hadir bagi mereka yang diancam dibunuh atas nama efek jera dan keadilan. Mereka hadir bagi mereka yang tak memiliki sumber daya untuk membela diri sendiri. Mereka hadir.

Mereka hadir untuk melawan. Melawan sistem peradilan yang korup luar biasa. Melawan narasi umum di tengah masyarakat. Melawan nafsu-nafsu pribadi. Melawan cemooh orang-orang terdekat.

Kemanusiaan harus bersorak karena ia tetap nyata berkat hadirnya para pendekar ini. Mereka yang terus bekerja tanpa diiringi sorot kamera televisi dan tanpa dikejar-kejar kuli tinta. Mereka yang, setelah seharian jungkir balik dari Polsek sampai Mahkamah Agung, bersenda gurau di depan kantor, menikmati hidup yang getir lewat secangkir kopi di ujung bibir, serta menghembuskan segala kelelahan lewat tembakau.

Mereka mungkin bukan pendekar dengan pedang yang paling tajam. Mereka mungkin bukan pendekar dengan wajah paling tampan. Mereka tidak sempurna. Tapi hati mereka luar biasa lebar dan oleh karenanya ada baiknya kita berkata:

Terima kasih.

 

Ditulis oleh: Yohan David Misero

No One Should Be Executed for Drug Offenses

This piece was written by Claudia Stoicescu and Ricky Gunawan and was published in Al Jazeera America on 1 February 2016.

 

The use of society’s ultimate sanction, the death penalty, has been declining around the world for decades. In 1977, only 16 countries had abolished the death penalty; by 2015, 140 had either abolished it or for all practical purposes abandoned it. Nineteen American states and the District of Columbia have no death penalty, and in 2014, executions were carried out in only seven states.

However, over the same period, the number of countries applying the death penalty for drugs offenses hasincreased. In 1979 there were 10 countries that executed drug offenders. By 1985, that number had increased to 22; by 2000, to 36 (although it declined to 33 in 2012). Some years have seen as many as 1,000 drug-related executions, many of them in Iran, Singapore and China, where precise figures are unavailable. Thousands of individuals are on death row in Asia, the Middle East and parts of Africa for drug offenses.

Indonesia offers a particularly gruesome example. In 2015, 14 prisoners there, mostly foreign nationals, were killed by firing squad.

Indonesian President Joko Widodo took office in October 2014. He immediately declared that the country was facing a “drug emergency situation,” thus justifying the decision to carry out the executions in the face of concerted international pressure — notably from Australia, two of whose citizens were executed last year. He zealously pursued the death sentences, saying he would reject any appeal for clemency. According to Amnesty International, Indonesia held at least 121 people on death row in 2015, 54 of them for drug offenses.

As part of its intensified war on drugs, Indonesia has targeted drug users. The National Narcotics Agency recently revived compulsory treatment, pledging to place 100,000 drug users in treatment or rehabilitation centers last year. This month the new narcotics board chief, Budi Waseso, created an international furor by calling for a prison island for drug smugglers, surrounded by crocodiles and piranhas. He also called for the reinstatement of the late Indonesian dictator Suharto’s infamous program in which elite military personnel were authorized to conduct extrajudicial public killings of anyone the regime considered criminal. A week ago, police raids on drug-use hotspots in Jakarta and Medan left at least four people dead — two of them police officers.

One person executed in Indonesia last year was Brazilian citizen Rodrigo Gularte, who was caught with two friends trying to take cocaine hidden in surfboards into the country in 2004. He took responsibility for the seized drugs, allowing his companions to be released. He accepted a state-appointed lawyer and never received competent legal representation at trial. His first lawyer acknowledged that he used drugs. Today that might be accepted as a mitigating factor, but at the time, it merely helped the prosecution make its case and secure the death sentence.

The mitigating factor that should have protected him from the firing squad is that he was diagnosed with bipolar disorder as a teenager. He was often impulsive, which likely explains how he came to be smuggling drugs. In prison, his condition worsened, and he attempted suicide. Eventually he was further diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia accompanied by delusions and hallucinations. It was widely reported that he understood he was going to be killed only as he was being led to the site of the execution.

After Indonesia denied requests for Gularte to be transferred to a mental health facility in 2014, his cousin Angelita Muxfedlt went to Jakarta and appointed my office as his legal representative, together with other prominent legal and human rights groups. He was convicted despite the suspicious release of his co-defendants, despite his incompetent counsel and despite international outrage, especially from Brazil, where the last state execution took place in 1876. Even the diagnosis of his severe mental illness was not enough to earn him a reprieve.

Indonesia clearly violated international law by executing a prisoner with mental health issues. He should have received treatment for his multiple illnesses. Instead, in a stunning act of retribution, the state put him to death.

He can be considered a victim of the global war on drugs. But the punitive drug control regime that was built on international agreements like the 1961 Single Convention on Narcotic Drugs is coming under increasing pressure. In 2014, for example, the International Narcotics Control Board urged governments to abolish the death penalty.

There is growing recognition that sentencing someone to death for a drug offense is a violation of basic human rights. Around the world, the vast majority of death row prisoners are poor and often poorly educated or incapable of comprehending what they were getting involved in, like Gularte. They are often badly advised, living or dying on the whim of a capricious legal system.

As some countries relax their regulations against the recreational use of drugs like marijuana, the inconsistency across international jurisdictions is thrown into sharp focus. In at least 12 countries, some offenses related to marijuana and hashish are punishable by death. In Malaysia in 2010, the majority of those sentenced to death for drug-related crimes were convicted of marijuana or hashish offenses. While some countries look to alternative methods of managing drugs, including decriminalization, others continue to punish similar activities by execution.

There is no evidence that the death penalty works as a deterrent, which is the reason most often cited for its continued use. People are still taking drugs into Indonesia, and heroin seizures have not stopped in Iran.

This year’s United Nations special session on drugs should include discussion of the death penalty. The world must consign the death penalty to history, where it belongs.

Jokowi Should Halt Executions Under Indonesia’s Corrupt Judicial System

This piece was authored by Asmin Fransiska, was co-authored by Ricky Gunawan, and was published in The Conversation on 16 Februari 2015. 

 

In Indonesia, the fate of death row convicts lies largely in the hands of the country’s president, who can decide to spare their lives after examining their clemency requests.

Indonesian President Joko Widodo, popularly known as Jokowi, seemed to have made up his mind to kill more than 60 drug convicts as he pledged to reject their clemency requests even before they arrived. He argued it would be a “shock therapy” to solve a national drug “emergency”.

Last month, six drug convicts were shot dead as part of Jokowi’s anti-drug “therapy”. Another 11, including Bali Nine duo Andrew Chan and Myuran Sukumaran, face imminent executions.

Jokowi’s blanket rejection is a blatant violation of Article 6 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), to which Indonesia is a state party. It states that “anyone sentenced to death shall have the right to seek pardon or commutation of the sentence\”.

As president of a country with an imperfect and corrupted judicial system, Jokowi should know that the human cost of the death penalty is too high to be used as a solution for crimes. Taking someone’s life is irreversible.

Brutal murderers and drug kingpins should receive the heavy penalty. However, such punishment should be carried out humanely to reflect the degree of our human civilisation. Examples of unfair trials irrefutably show that in deciding the fate of a death row convict, Jokowi should firmly uphold human rights principles.

Pervasive unfair trials

In Indonesia, police torture and unfair trials are pervasive. This happens in cases that are punishable by the death penalty.

In 2004, a Nigerian – Tony (not his real name) – was convicted for drug dealing. When the police came to Tony’s home, he was not there. The police told Tony that they wanted to search his place.

Tony came voluntarily. Were Tony really involved in drug dealing, he could have escaped. Instead, he chose to come back to his place.

Tony said the police tortured him to confess that the drugs found in his place were his. He never had adequate legal representation throughout his legal proceedings, during which he had to contend with a poor interpreter and dubious evidence.

The court’s conclusion that Tony committed drug dealing was racially biased:

… black people from Nigeria are often monitored by the police because they often deal drugs in Indonesia in a neat and secretive way.

The court sentenced Tony to death.

In 2005, two Indonesians, Ruben Pata Sambo and his son Markus, were sentenced to death for premeditated murders. The case against them was highly fabricated. They were both tortured by the police to confess to a crime they never committed.

In 2006, the real perpetrators provided written testimonies that Ruben and his son were never involved in the murders. The two men are still on death row.

In 2013, a European national was arrested for drug offences. During police investigations, he was assisted by at least three different lawyers, all of whom only had interest in his money. The lawyers extorted money from him.

From the investigations up to the court hearings, the defendant was not assisted with a proper legal defence. The court sentenced him to death without him having meaningful legal assistance.

These cases shows how the Indonesian legal apparatus ignores minimum procedural and evidential guarantees of fair trials. Supporters of the death penalty may argue that these are a minority of cases, which do not represent the overall picture of death penalty cases in Indonesia. But that these cases exist and human lives are at stake in the face of corruption and unfair trials means that a closer examination of all death penalty cases in Indonesia is a must.

Moratorium on death penalty

Even though Jokowi firmly believes in the death penalty as a crime deterrent – at least for now – he must revise his policy on blanket rejection of clemency appeals. He must seriously and meticulously review all death penalty cases.

The UN Safeguards guaranteeing the protection of the rights of those facing the death penalty state:

Capital punishment may be imposed only when the guilt of the person charged is based upon clear and convincing evidence leaving no room for an alternative explanation of the facts.

Jokowi must conform to this standard. If there is a single doubt that a death row convict was sentenced to death because of weak evidence, case fabrication, torture, judicial extortion/bribery, no adequate legal aid, or no proper translation, the sentence should be commuted.

While a review is undertaken, Indonesia must apply a halt to executions. Through this careful review, Jokowi’s eyes may be opened to the ugly side of Indonesia’s justice system: that our system is so broken and dysfunctional that human life should never be the price.

Mass Executions of Drug Offenders Won’t Help Indonesia

This piece was written by Ricky Gunawan and Ajeng Larasati and was published in Open Society Foundation on 23 January 2015.

 

Indonesian President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo was elected in July 2014. Hailed as a man of the people, his campaign was built on a platform of human rights. He updated Jakarta’s drainage system, kick-started health care reform, and built a reputation as a leader who implements policies based on pragmatism and common sense.

But on January 18, Jokowi placed himself in a category of his own: he became the first president of Indonesia to execute six people in one night since the country’s democratic reformation in 1998.

The people sentenced to death were people convicted of drug trafficking. Five of the six were foreigners, which prompted a swift and emphatic international outcry. Three of the countries whose citizens were among the executed recalled their ambassadors from Indonesia, and several advocacy groups condemned the executions in no uncertain terms.

The uproar is well founded—using the death penalty to solve a country’s drug problems is not a solution at all. The Community Legal Aid Institution in Jakarta, Lembaga Bantuan Hukum Masyarakat (LBHM), worked tirelessly to stop Sunday’s executions. On January 16, LBHM and the leaders of drug-user communities hand-delivered an open letter to the presidential palace.

In the letter they made it clear that Jokowi’s decision to employ the death penalty would not help alleviate Indonesia’s drug problems—in fact, it’s likely to make them worse. Since capital punishment for drug offenses was introduced in 1997, drug crimes have risen, not fallen. And those being executed aren’t the ones driving the illicit drug trade. Some of the traffickers who are sentenced to death are merely drug mules, many of them coerced into carrying the substances they were arrested with, or unaware that they were carrying them at all.

Furthermore, executing people used as drug mules only exacerbates the vulnerability of drug users, because when the state executes a drug mule, kingpins must find a new one. These new traffickers are consequently pulled further away from health services, harm reduction programs, and support—the very mechanisms that could help them reclaim their lives from addiction.

Despite all this evidence to the contrary, Jokowi has said that the executions represent his government’s firm commitment to the fight against drugs, and that more executions will follow. In addition, he’s vowed not to grant clemency to any of the 64 convicted traffickers on death row, even though a blanket rejection of clemency is a violation of Indonesia’s commitment under the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. A blanket rejection of clemency also breaches the core principle of criminal law, which requires every case to be considered on its individual merits.

Political observers have speculated that Jokowi’s hard line on executions—out of step with his relatively progressive agenda—is intended to satiate conservative elements of his government. If that’s truly the case, it represents a stunning display of opportunism, as people are literally sacrificed in the name of political maneuvering.

LBHM’s campaign is aligned with the UN Human Rights Committee, UN Office on Drugs and Crime, and UN Special Rapporteur on extrajudicial, summary, or arbitrary executions. All have stated that executions for drug offences are in violation of international human rights law.

We at LBHM feel the weight of these threatened executions acutely. Since 2008, we have assisted Francis (not his real name), a Nigerian citizen sentenced to death for possession of heroin. Francis has exhausted all his legal avenues of appeal and is relying on presidential clemency for his life—a hope that appears dim for those convicted under the Jokowi administration.

Death Penalty Does Not Deter Drug Traffickers

This piece was written by Ricky Gunawan and was published in The Jakarta Post  on 10 December 2014.

 
 

The Attorney Generals Office (AGO) has announced its plan to execute five people by the end of 2014: mostly drug traffickers.

Indonesia is among the few countries with the harshest drug laws, executing drug traffickers to create a deterrent effect.

However, Indonesia’s position to retain the death penalty, particularly for drug offenses, is problematic.

First, the Indonesian legal community often refers to drug trafficking as an “extraordinary crime”, thereby justifying the extraordinary punishment of the death penalty.

However, labeling drug trafficking as an extraordinary crime is groundless from the perspective of international law.

Article 6 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) — which Indonesia has ratified — states that for countries that have not yet abolished the death penalty, it may only be imposed for “the most serious crimes”.

Various UN bodies, such as the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, UN Human Rights Committee, UN Special Rapporteur for extrajudicial, summary or arbitrary executions killings and the UN Office on Drugs and Crime, have consistently asserted that drug offenses do not meet the threshold of “the most serious crimes” to which the death penalty may lawfully be applied.

In his 2012 report to the UN General Assembly, the UN Special Rapporteur on extrajudicial killings stated that the death penalty should only be applied for offenses of intentional killings, based on the practices of retentionist states and the jurisprudence of the UN and other bodies.

In March 2014, the International Narcotics Control Board — the independent and quasi-judicial body for monitoring government compliance with the three international drug control conventions, of which Indonesia is a member, encouraged states to abolish the death penalty for drug-related offenses.

The 1988 Convention against Illicit Traffic in Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances does not recognize the concept of “extraordinary crimes” for drug offenses. The convention places drug offenses into two categories.

First, drug offenses of a “grave nature”, such as the production, manufacturing and extraction of drugs.

Second, offenses that are “particularly serious”, such as the involvement of organized criminal groups in the production of drugs.

The 1988 convention does not explicitly recognize the death penalty for drug offenses.

Therefore, from an international drug law and international human rights law perspective, categorizing drug trafficking as an “extraordinary crime” and applying the death penalty to drug offenses is indefensible.

Second, the death penalty is retained because it is believed to have deterrence effect. This view is simply invalid. In 2008, Indonesia executed two drug traffickers and in 2013, it executed one more drug trafficker.

According to the 2012 death penalty report by the Harm Reduction International group, there were approximately 100 people on death row in Indonesia, including 58 drug traffickers.

According to the 2013 annual report of Indonesia’s National Narcotics Agency (BNN), there were 260 drug traffickers arrested in 2013 — an increase from 157 people in 2011 and 202 people in 2012. These numbers suggest that while the death penalty is continuously imposed and executions are carried out, the crime of drug trafficking shows no sign of abating. It seems obvious that the death penalty does not deter drug traffickers.

Further, in the past few years there have been cases where drug traffickers were able to operate from inside the prison.

This indicates that they may not be afraid of the penalty because they can bribe prison officials and other law enforcers. Hence, the argument that death penalty carries a deterrence effect is implausible.

Third, it is also often argued that drug trafficking has fatal consequences for younger generations and therefore drug traffickers deserve to be sentenced to death. But as William Schabas — an international scholar on the death penalty — rightly points out, in most cases, the drug traffickers are arrested and the drugs are confiscated. Interdicting drugs before they reach the public means that the trafficker sentenced to death could not have sold the drugs nor could anyone else and, hence, no lives have been lost.

Fourth, the higher probability that a harsh sentence is to be passed down, the higher probability that corruption is involved.

It is widely known that the Indonesian legal system is tainted with corruption and bribery. In this corrupted legal environment, if a drug trafficker is arrested and punishable by the death sentence, he or she is ready to pay high sums to enforcers to avoid prosecution or seek lenient sentences.

Rich drug traffickers will likely be able to evade the death penalty while those who are poor and cannot afford to bribe will be the ones facing execution.

The intention that the death penalty will get rid of drug traffickers is therefore not achievable and the risk that the state executes the wrong person is higher.

Fifth, organizations running illicit drug trafficking are involved in a complex network controlled by some powerful people. Those arrested are often just drug mules taking the greatest risks.

Imposing the death penalty on them will not deter the drug kingpins controlling the syndicate as they will continue to seek, groom and exploit vulnerable individuals to do the dirty jobs.

Illicit drug trafficking unquestionably has harmful effects on individuals and society. However, there is a common misconception that imposing the death penalty and executing those involved in drug trafficking is the magic formula to address this problem. As the above arguments demonstrate, the death penalty is ineffective for combating drug trafficking, and thus Indonesia must evaluate its strategy.

Indonesia should probably start by evaluating its unrealistic “2015 Indonesia Drug Free” program. While drugs have negative impacts on human beings, drugs can be positive too, for the purposes of health, science and technology.

This means that we cannot live in a “drug-free world”, but looking at Indonesia’s stubbornness to retain the death penalty despite its useless effect, one would ask whether Indonesia is open and ready to evaluate its misguided beliefs.

Are Indonesia’s Government and Civil Society Actors Debating Drug Policy in Parallel Universes?

This piece was written by Ajeng Larasati and Gloria Lai and was published in Talking Drugs on 21 December 2012.

 

When the head of Indonesia’s narcotics control agency (BNN), Mr. Gories Mere, said that his country’s drug policies were better than those of Portugal because they required all people who use drugs to be rehabilitated, he set the tone for his agency’s contribution to a national symposium on drug policies on diversion and treatment. IDPC, which was represented by Mike Trace (Chair), Ann Fordham (Executive Director) and Gloria Lai (Senior Policy Officer), were co-organising the symposium together with the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime, BNN, and Indonesia’s Ministry of Health, held in Jakarta in early October.

In the context of ongoing difficulties with implementing new laws and regulations introduced since 2009, including mandating the registration of people who use drugs and their diversion into treatment centres, a Portuguese representative (Nuno Capaz, Dissuasion Commission, Lisbon) was invited to speak on his country’s system of decriminalisation and diversion of people who use drugs to treatment and services (only where the individual has such a need).  Just three weeks prior to the Jakarta symposium, over 20 government officials (including Mr Mere), parliamentarians, civil society and international agency (UNODC, AusAID) representatives had taken part in a study visit to Portugal to see for themselves the Portuguese model of decriminalisation and drug treatment. However at the symposium, there did not appear to be a prevailing mood for change amongst government agencies.  While the Ministry of Social Affairs insisted on the need to ensure that individuals were fully rehabilitated and did not relapse, though without explaining their plan to achieve that need, the Ministry of Health spoke frankly about the challenges faced in implementing laws on compulsory registration—including difficulties with coordinating all the agencies involved in the registration and treatment system—and improving the capacity of health centre staff to respond appropriately to people who use drugs.

In what seemed like a parallel universe, BNN representatives, proudly talked about having the ‘most beautiful’ rehabilitation centres in Southeast Asia, the effectiveness of relying on religious leaders to ‘rehabilitate’ people who use drugs where law enforcement agencies have failed in their efforts, and offering ‘sabbatical’ trips to islands for people who have stopped using drugs to help them with social reintegration.

However the symposium was refreshing in allowing a wide range of voices to be heard. A member of the House of Representatives committee responsible for health issues questioned the necessity and effectiveness of requiring the compulsory registration of people who use drugs, and urged the serious consideration of adopting instead drug courts (as with some states in Australia) or dissuasion commissions like those in Portugal. Edo Agustian of the national drug user network (PKNI) spoke about the fear that people who use drugs have about police abuse, and the need for them to feel assured about being safe from abuse and harassment if they were ever to willingly register themselves with the authorities. He also spoke about the increasing use of amphetamine-type substances (ATS) and the need for ATS-specific treatment on the one hand, but on the other, the need to recognise that many people use ATS occasionally and do not need treatment.

That there was an opportunity for a range of voices from government, community, and civil society to speak frankly about the specific issue of compulsory registration and the treatment system in Indonesia might have been an achievement in itself. That it could help to stimulate further steps towards lasting change in laws and institutional practises now depends on the ongoing efforts of all those involved. This was one of the aims of several Indonesian civil society actors, who gathered the day after the symposium for an IDPC civil society advocacy workshop.

At the workshop, IDPC shared an update on international and regional drug policy developments. At the international level, Mike shared some good news about movements toward drug policy reform in the United States and some Latin America countries. Meanwhile, news from the region showed that drug policy debates were not as dynamic as at the international level. Many Asian countries still impose compulsory treatment for people who use drugs, such as in Thailand.

Many participants exchanged views on the Indonesian government’s perception of diversion issues. Some participants also pointed out that there are still many civil society workers that lack understanding about Indonesia’s overall drug policy. To gain a better understanding about national-level policies, participants did an exercise to map the actors involved on drug policy issues in different areas, for example, providing harm reduction services,  gathering data related to drugs, and policy advocacy. Participants also engaged in other exercises to help identify the key problems in Indonesia’s current drug policies, as a basis for developing an advocacy plan. Among the problems identified were the need to amend the Narcotic Law and address the lack of coordination among all government agencies involved in drug policy.

At the close of the workshop, one participant from Papua shared her concern about Papua’s unique conditions where, unlike in the big cities, access to treatment, data, and information are very limited. Overall it was a fruitful two-day discussion. Even though there might have been an issue with language barriers, everyone had their opportunity to share their opinion on the challenges and opportunities in reforming Indonesian drug policy.

Judicial Killing in the War on Drugs—The Death Penalty for Drug Offenses

This piece was written by Ricky Gunawan and was published in Open Society Foundation on 26 November 2012.

 

The numbers are shocking.

At least 540 people executed for drugs in Iran in 2011.

At least 16 beheaded for drug-related offenses in Saudi Arabia in the first six months of 2012.

And thousands more languishing on death row awaiting a possible beheading, firing squad, lethal injection, or hanging. Many of them low-level mules, conned, coerced, or manipulated into carrying drugs into countries that retain capital punishment for drugs.

A new report, The Death Penalty for Drug Offences: Global Overview 2012—Tipping the Scales for Abolition, identifies 33 countries or territories that still retain the death penalty for drug offenses, including 13 where the sentence is mandatory. The report documents the laws in place as well as how frequently the sanctions are applied.

The report was launched with the UK All Party Parliamentary Group on the Abolition of the Death Penalty at the UK House of Lords, hosted by Baroness Vivien Stern, the Chair of the group.

While there have been alarming numbers of people who were executed or sentenced to death for drug offenses, Tipping the Scales for Abolition recognizes some positive legal and political developments in these countries. In 2012, Singapore and Malaysia recently took steps to review their mandatory death penalty for drug offenses. In India and South Korea, courtroom challenges helped overturn mandatory capital sanctions.

As the findings of this report suggest, the global trend toward the abolition of the death penalty—particularly in the context of drug offenses—is moving in the right direction. Fewer than 10 countries actually carried out executions for drugs in 2011/2012 and the number of countries with capital drug laws on the books, are in decline.

Where these laws remain, however, they are entrenched in highly politicized “moral” rhetoric of governments. Drugs are posited as an “evil” that destroys the future of youth and society. Drug offenses are very often referred to as more dangerous than murder.

These arguments clash with human rights standards, which applies strict limits on the death penalty in international law. Article 6(2) of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) calls on States to reserve the death penalty for what the treaty terms “most serious crimes.” The UN body—and numerous human rights scholars and experts—have repeatedly asserted that drug offenses do not meet this standard.

In defense of their death penalty policies, governments sometimes argue that as drugs have potentially fatal consequences, these crimes should be equivalent to murder. However, as Prof. William Schabas—a leading expert on international law and the death penalty—argues, in most cases, the drug traffickers have been arrested and the drugs been confiscated. This means, the cargo never reached the public and thus there is no choate lethal or grave offense for which they are being punished.

While the movement to abolish the death penalty has made incredible strides in recent decades, what is not well-known is the role drug offenses play in modern capital punishment discourse.

In many countries that retain the death penalty, drug offenders make up the majority of those who are condemned to die. While it would certainly be ideal to abolish the death penalty for all crimes, a major incremental step would be to ensure international standards are followed vis-à-vis capital punishment for drugs.

HRI estimates that there may be as many as 1,000 people executed for a drug offense every year. But as the organization’s report shows, these sanctions are indefensible in international law—and they should be abolished.

Indonesia: Lost in Transition?

This piece was written by Ricky Gunawan and was published in The Jakarta Post on 10 May 2012.

 
 

President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono is expected to apologize on behalf of the state to victims of past human rights abuses and their families. One thing is certain, however. The President is sure to deny accusations that he was involved in any crimes against humanity in the past, or else he will be prosecuted and brought to justice.

Then the question is why would he want to apologize for a wrong that he did not commit?

David Miller argues that a nation cannot legitimately enjoy benefits that have been inherited without acknowledging responsibility for past incidents that have involved injustices. This includes providing redress for past abuses.

Yudhoyono has not administered this country from zero. The successes he has achieved during his tenure cannot be completely claimed as his administration’s own accomplishments. He leads this country with all the benefits that have been attained by previous presidents.

Apart from past achievements, there were also mistakes committed. It is hypocritical for Yudhoyono to enjoy and only recognize the benefits that his administration has inherited without recognizing the unjust treatment that the previous governments practiced.

Therefore, Yudhoyono must sincerely apologize to the victims of past human rights violations and their families.

However, as a state in a transition from authoritarianism to democracy, Indonesia is confronted with addressing past injustices. An apology is one way, but there are other things that have to be done as well to resolve past human rights violations.

An apology must be followed by a conviction to prosecute those responsible. An apology neither negates nor replaces prosecution of the perpetrators of human rights violations, because both of them have different roles to play in this transitional context.

An apology is the state’s formal expression of remorse toward injustices endured by the victims and their families. Meanwhile, prosecution is a way to recognize that those injustices shall not be ignored. People may forgive the perpetrators but not forget the crimes.

Of course, however, as Michael Freeman points out, there is a possibility that fair trials may acquit the accused and this may increase the suffering of the victims. Yet, prosecution conveys a clear message to the perpetrators and potential perpetrators in the future that no one is above the law.

Additionally, if perpetrators of atrocious crimes can fool justice, it is a grave insult to the moral conscience of the victims and their families. If Indonesia is truly built upon the rule of law where everyone is equal before the law, the fact that perpetrators can evade justice is an utter nonsense.

This May marks the 14th year of Reform and nonetheless, there are no significant signs that the truth of past human rights abuses shall be revealed or that those who bear responsibility shall be brought to justice. The inability of the state to address past injustices seems to suggest that Indonesia is lost in transition.

Insofar that these transitional initiatives are not thoroughly undertaken, Indonesia has not yet come into a democratic stage in a substantive way. Indonesia may claim to be the third-largest democracy — but perhaps it is in only in a procedural sense. Indonesia may be commended for successfully held free and fair elections.

However, that is not sufficient.

Democracy carries its substantive importance when the outcome of it protects human rights effectively. Therefore, Yudhoyono’s apology must be followed by the prosecutions of those responsible for past human rights abuses. An apology that is disingenuous and undertaken as political accessory is a mockery as it ridicules victims’ pains and their families’ grievances.

The prosecution of perpetrators of human rights abuses is needed because it is also about what kind of legacy that Indonesia as a nation will bequeath to future generations. Ghastly chapters of Indonesia’s history will never be fully finished so long as perpetrators are left unpunished and victims not given adequate reparations.

The absence of prosecution equals impunity and condones the reproduction of state-sponsored violence. It is the absence of justice that has let perpetrators of past human rights abuses brazenly come forward as presidential candidates.

These unfinished transitional initiatives contribute to public amnesia and thus society does not feel guilty by voting or endorsing presidential candidates with poor human rights records. People who have committed egregious crimes do not have the integrity to be our leaders.

If human rights violators can be elected our leaders, human rights protections in the future will be in peril. Bringing those perpetrators to justice will repair the damage that has been done to the victims and, with wholehearted truth-telling, Indonesia can proudly step into peaceful democracy without being haunted by its historical burden. Yudhoyono had better have this clear transitional agenda; otherwise, his apology is no more than empty words.