Sunday, August 25, 2019

After our two comrades were shot


After Our Two Comrades Were Shot

A translation of chapter one of Khamid Istakhori’s book ‘Berlawan’ (Resist).

A story of resistance from SERBUK PT Fujiseat Karawang, Indonesia

Monday, 23 September 2013, 11:30am. As in many places and events, the state’s violent apparatus was waging a war against the common people. Without exception, against workers. That day, just moments after leaving the lobby of PT Fujiseat Indonesia, the local police chief issued an ultimatum to the workers that were mid-protest. We were instructed to immediately end our picket at Gate 3.

If the gate wasn’t opened within 15 minutes, he stressed, the Karawang riot control police would take action. Meaning, they would attempt to forcibly break-up our protest. The smell of the threat of violence suddenly filled the air between the cries and hopes of the workers fighting for their fate. Under the hot midday sun, we clashed with the company’s power, resulting in a story worth re-telling. And it is this story that we now tell.

PT Fujiseat Indonesia is a factory that produces Daihatsu car seats, located in Karawang International Industrial City (KIIC). KIIC is the biggest industrial estate in Karawang. There, rows of factories are lined up, emitting smoke, and producing a variety of commodities. Until 2015, this area covered more than 1300 ha. What happened that day, at that demonstration, it was a different battle, faced daily by the working class throughout the country. When their labour rights are being squeezed, those who seem weak will in the end bite back as hard as they can.

The action that day was the third episode in the struggle by workers at PT Fujiseat Indonesia to win permanent employment. They were workers organised in a new vessel of struggle. At the factory there had previously been two unions. The first was SPSI. The membership mostly consisted of workers who had moved from an old factory in Sunter, North Jakarta. The second union was SPK. In SPK, an internal conflict had been intensifying, with members disagreeing particularly over the strategy for struggle. The sharpening of the conflict became the midwife for the birth of a new organisation, SERBUK.

Riki Hermawan and Samsul Bahri are the two men that will be remembered always as the leaders in the formation of SERBUK at PT Fujiseat Indonesia. Together, they experienced life in SPK which was complicated and could no longer be tolerated. Democratisation of the union was not possible; mechanisms were stuck and there was a shift in the direction of the struggle. And one of the major issues was the neglect of the fate of the workers who were yet to be made permanent. Of course, there were 1,001 excuses made by the leadership of the SPK, but according to Riki Hermawan none of them were to be believed.

The conversion of workers to permanent employment was required to be carried out with no additional conditions, according to the inspection note from the Karawang Department of Manpower and Transmigration. There was no requirement for a selection process, job evaluation, let alone appointment based on discipline. Riki and several friends therefore continued to question why it had not yet occurred. In the end they received no satisfactory response and were instead cornered with various accusations. Further still, these workers making criticisms were increasingly ostracised, were excluded from meetings, and their complaints were considered wind that would pass. They had to endure cruel bullying.

Often new tools are required to achieve objectives. Riki and Samsul eventually formed the union SERBUK. At first, there were only 15 people willing to join SERBUK. Although small, this number was enough to fulfil the requirements for registration with the Department of Manpower and Transmigration. After achieving legality, SERBUK activists began working to recruit. Disappointment with the old union meant the invitations to join SERBUK began to bear fruit. Within a month, no less than 100 workers had filled out forms and chosen to join.

The Birth of TABUR and the Next Round of Struggle

The mass work continued. The organisational engine was heated continuously with discussion, meetings, education, and shared learning about organising. In addition to discussing the various manoeuvres of the old union that liked to throw accusations, they also began to examine the discriminatory acts of the company. At the time, the company was determined not to recognise the new union. At the tip of HR’s lips was always, “Why make a new union? There is already an old union!” This difficulty confused Riki. He began to have doubts. He felt alone, without a parent union federation that could fortify them.

However, unlike adolescents that have plenty of time to become lost in their thoughts, the life of a worker like Riki does not allow for such things. Like it or not, they are forced to endeavour. Through friendship networks with unions at other factories that were mostly members of SPK, Riki began to widen communication. Riki had to be smart about his time. His nights became full of discussion about unity and consolidation. Eventually Riki came to know that the SPK unions at many of the factories were experiencing the same difficulties that he had felt when forming the new union. 

Facing the same issues, the workers were brought closer together in their feelings, interests and understanding. Eventually they were all welcomed in. Support then came in waves. Without exception, the PT Pindo Deli paper workers joined. At this point, Riki’s enthusiasm and fight returned even stronger than before. Several unions that agreed to support SERBUK Fujiseat formed an alliance called the Advocacy Team for Labour (TABUR). The name TABUR initially was used as part of a strike that occurred at the Pindo Deli paper factory in 2001. The Pindo Deli workers shared the experience of the strike and re-ignited the use of the name.

TABUR united Riki and his comrades in struggle. Through TABUR, they further consolidated their base. Discussion and meetings became routine and more intense. The first step was decided upon – TABUR would send a letter to the company requesting negotiation. Like the twists that occur in most struggles, the negotiation letter was ignored. Three letters were sent with no response. TABUR then decided to hold an action at the factory in July 2013. The action was held but the company’s attitude remained unchanged. Instead of accepting a SERBUK delegation, they claimed to not even know the workers demonstrating.

Setyowati, or Ms. Atik as she was called, was head of human resources at Fujiseat Indonesia. Speaking through the police she claimed that the SERBUK action was misplaced, “The company has already reached an agreement with SPK.” This statement was truly embarrassing while also implying one thing: there was collusion occurring. Hearing this, the workers did not give up. They continued waiting for a positive response but received nothing. Ofcourse, a sense of disappointment descended upon us. That day we ended the action with no result. But there was a sense of determination: there was a need to find a way to resolve the issues. It must be done!

A rush of short messages

Because it was the month of Ramadhan, we decided to cool down our activity and conserve our energy. Making use of the practice of breaking the fast together, we went from house-to-house to strengthen solidarity and share information. We were happy because getting closer to Eid, in the lead-up to the holiday, the number of workers joining the meetings grew. Several comrades who had received the Eid bonus pay took the initiative to use the funds for meetings.

While waiting for the Eid long holiday, TABUR decided to keep the pressure up on the company. Comrades decided that the head of HR, Setyowati, was the key to the company’s stubborn nature. All decisions went through Ms Atik, and unfortunately the Japanese boss trusted her. Seeing this, a mischievous idea began to be discussed among comrades – a plan to send a wave of text messages to her phone. In order to avoid criminal charges, all the messages used the same language – a polite sentence of peace for the Idul Fitri holiday. So in the last days before Ramadhan, a rush of messages were sent to Ms Atik.

“Good evening Ms Atik.
May your fasting be filled with blessings.
But don’t forget, after the Lebaran holiday we will be holding a protest.”

“Hello Ms Atik, have you already broken your fast?
Hopefully your meal was sweet.
But don’t forget: we are coming again.”

“How were your night prayers, Ms? Solemn?
Believe it, we are currently seriously preparing for our action
At the factory, after Lebaran.”

“Enjoy your morning meal before the fast,
Remember, don’t take too long a holiday.
We will meet after Lebaran.”

These messages were sent via SMS to Ms Atik in waves. In a day, 5-6 times mass messaging would occur. Each time, at least 30-50 phones would send a message. How noisy and uneasy the Lebaran holiday must have been for Ms Atik. Right after the Eid prayers, we again began to send messages.

“Happy Idul Fitri, Ms.
Asking for forgiveness?
Remember, what is going to happen after Lebaran?”

We got news from our spy at the factory that Ms Atik and the HRD staff had decided to end the Lebaran holiday early, meaning work would recommence earlier. The onslaught of short messages had been truly effective. Ms Atik’s legs were shackled.

After the Lebaran holiday, everyone returned to work. The union consolidation continued, the meetings started up again, the development of the plan matured. The cries of resistance that had been kept back, again began to echo. An injection of enthusiasm from the Lebaran holiday thickened the faith in the struggle. Like a mobile phone that has just been charged, our spirit was full. Thursday 29 August 2013 became the date we chose to continue with our action. We prepared everything as best as possible. The expected turnout was carefully calculated, notice to the police was given, and awareness of the situation in the factory was increased. In short, we didn’t want our plan to fail just because of a miscalculation.

Our second action was eventually held at the right-side gate of the factory. In truth, the left gate was more vital to the factory, as it was the main gate. From the left gate, trucks leave the factory. The finished seats from the factory and trucks carrying trolleys go back and forth through that gate. However, due to various considerations we did not choose that gate. Meanwhile, the middle gate was always shut. It had never been used. The right-side gate that we chose to use was the entrance used by guests and workers entering and leaving the factory, as well as the entrance used by management.

Without a vehicle, armed only with a megaphone, we began the action that day. One hour of speeches, but no response from management. Maybe they were silent thinking our voices were only the sounds of the doves they don’t like. Not long afterwards, a group of police entered the factory, following another squad that were already guarding the inside of the fence. At this moment, we began to send several messages through the factory security guard, but there was no response. None.

Apparently, management was claiming that TABUR was nobody. We suspect that the company’s attitude was strengthened by the false voices of those against the struggle. While the action was taking place, we were shocked by an event. All of a sudden, the head of the SPK union arrived at the factory. His sleek, new motorbike appeared at the gate, right in front of where we were gathered. Pausing for a moment at the security post, he was immediately given entry into the lobby. This treatment was in stark contrast to how we had been treated. We arrived, armed with a letter requesting a meeting, we waited over an hour but had been ignored. The difference between those who stand upright and struggle, and those who bow down to capitalists was made clear to us.

Impatient with waiting for a response from the company that was never coming, and provoked by the situation, several protestors invited their comrades to block the gate. This action triggered tension, there was a tug-of-war with the security guards, and in the end the two metal gate doors came down and the wheels broke. Riki managed to calm the situation and get the protestors to retreat, while again trying to contact the company to negotiate. Through one of the police officers on duty we were told that management was willing to meet with us. Finally, we were able to send a delegation to negotiate.

As we expected, negotiations were not conducive. The company’s HRD remained in their original position. They were questioning the validity of TABUR and with arrogance claiming that the problem with contract work had been resolved. We heard again the same old statement used by HRD. This time it came from Ms Atik, complete with a curt face, “The issue of contract work is resolved. The company has already reached agreement with SPK”, she said at the negotiation table.

We were inflamed. Anger rising. Our SMS’ were ignored, our phone calls not answered, our letter not replied to, and now here in negotiations we were being abused. Although the anger began to envelope our thoughts, we tried not to lose control and we left the negotiating room without chaos. The police commandant who had been in the room tried to calm us down. We know that this was just a strategy to stop us rioting. To the HRD that was standing at the door to the room, inviting us to leave as if forcing us out, we slowly said, “We will come again.” Our threat was met coldly. We broke up our action. A few days later, Riki and Maryadi along with several other comrades that were accused of breaking the factory gates, were reported to the police. Criminal!

As happens in many cases, a criminal report to the police is a blow to the workers. Comrades in struggle can provide maximum support, but the threat of being locked up remains a frightening prospect. The worker may be strong, stubborn, and uncompromising, but their family will be upset. Their wife will be weakened by worry with each call from the police. Really, a perfect terror tactic. But strong determination will always be able to overcome a variety of obstacles, even the different types of terror tactics that emerge. The struggle must not recede. While strengthening the comrades facing the police investigation, Riki remained firm in his leadership.

On the other hand, the resilience of the struggle shown by the union began to be judged fairly by the masses. The number of members in the factory began to grow and support continued to flow. When the first and second actions were held, many workers watched through the windows on the second floor. They asked about the action being held by Riki and his comrades. Amongst them were many workers still on short-term contracts, never being made permanent. At the time, they were not yet brave enough to join openly. After the two actions, their eyes were opened, their hearts moved, and their courage began to grow.

“If we continue to take action, actually we are saying to them, to our comrades that do not yet understand, that there is a problem at the factory, and in the old union,” said Riki one night during consolidation. Everyone present nodded in agreement. Agreeing with Riki’s conclusion they thought hard about what could be done. Nearing midnight, the meeting was closed with one conclusion: hold an even bigger action. Block the factory! Whatever the risk.

Our two comrades are shot

23 September 2013, that day 150 workers gathered. This time the left-gate, the main artery of the factory, was chosen as the site of the action. 11:30am the demonstrators were concentrated in a neat line. They were still allowing large vehicles to pass through the gate. From a distance of around 20 metres, the riot police were on standby inside the fence. The commander could be seen giving directions. Only minutes after the police commander had given his directions to the riot police troops, the head of the local sector police sent an ultimatum demanding we immediately end the action. His delivery was slow and calm, but it was intimidation. He claimed that if we did not immediately end our action, the riot police would break it up.

At 1:00pm, the negotiating team met with the company to put forward our demands. A repeat of our demands that we had already made clear on 29 August 2013. And as the company had made clear from the beginning, they rejected all the workers’ demands. Waiting an hour, there was no significant movement. Negotiation was reaching deadlock. We then left the company conference room. Meanwhile, 150 protestors that had been gathered on the side of the road began to block the gate. The atmosphere was heating up. From a distance we saw the police commander arguing with several comrades.

A queue of trucks begun to be held up, visibly snaking backwards both inside and outside the factory. Trucks coming from Sunter could not get in, while those from inside could not get out. The degree of opposition began to heat up, perhaps not long to boiling point. We were making the calculations, as were the police. We counted that if we managed to hold our picket for one hour, it would paralyse the factory’s operations. This would have a flow-on effect of stopping production because there would be no trolleys from the trucks available in the factory. Stopping production would certainly make the bosses panic. It would mean disruption to the production targets, late deliveries, and fines from the customers. We had certainly hit them in their weakest spot.

Negotiations continued. Several comrades began to get desperate in holding their ground. They kept getting pushed by the police, so they decided to lie-down in front of the gate. The police were getting impatient. Several of the comrades who were lying down were picked up and thrown to the side of the road. For a moment the gate was opened and police lined the side of the road to secure the vehicle entrance. The police took control for thirty minutes. The protestors prepared their next step, prepared their counter-attack. From a distance of around 50 metres, at the right-side gate, police were also on guard. The local police were negotiating with several TABUR comrades. They asked for coordination to decide whether the action would continue or not.

While the negotiations were taking place, several comrades who had escaped the watch of the police, began again to block the gate. This time their numbers were greater as they lay across the ground in front of the gate. The police were shocked and began to panic. Those of us currently negotiating with the local police were surprised by the sound of gunfire. Instantly white smoke began to billow, rolling in the air. Our eyes hurt. Tear gas had been fired by police several lines back behind the factory wall. Several comrades stayed lying in front of the gate, but others who didn’t expect the firing got up with their eyes teary from the tear gas fumes.

We saw the riot police raging crazy. They were firing tear gas as they liked to break up the workers’ demonstration. The commotion continued as several police began to hit and kick the protestors while still firing shots at the crowd of workers who were not putting up any resistance. Some police officers aimed their weapons straight at workers. Setiyadi, a worker from PT Siamindo that was there in solidarity, fell to the ground as a shot hit his left temple and the wound began to bleed profusely.

Meanwhile on the right side, close to the iron fence, Nur Akbar, a worker from PT Fujiseat, also fell with a wound to the back of the head. Both victims were rushed to Az Zahra clinic in Telukjambe. Setiyadi suffered quite a serious injury and had to get stitches. Meanwhile Nur Akbar had fainted. The time had reached 1:45pm when the protest dispersed. After reconvening, we continued our action at the Karawang parliament house. Approaching midnight, we still hadn’t succeeding in meeting with a single member of parliament. There were no representatives of the people to be found when the people needed their assistance.

The situation was certainly not in the workers’ favour, but through Facebook and Youtube news of the shooting began to spread among comrades and through networks. That night felt like a very long night. We began to realise that we could trace back the shooting to PT Fujiseat. We sent comrades to search for evidence that could be used to report the case. Several comrades went to the scene of the crime but could find nothing. The location of the shooting had been cleaned thoroughly and was being tightly guarded by police with rifles.

Yati Andriyani, coordinator of The Commission for Missing Persons and Victims of Violence (Kontras) then phoned us. She asked us to send photos and a chronology of what occurred. We also provided several important telephone numbers of Karawang police officers. It was a tense night. We refused to allow several of our comrades to stay the night at the secretariat. Past midnight, we got the support from Kontras to make the complaint to the Police Headquarters of Professional and Security Division (Propam) and the National Police Commission (Kompolas).

The next day, Tuesday 24 September 2013 after dawn we drove to Jakarta. After meeting with several representatives of Kontras, tidying up our documents and completing our chronology, we made our way to the police headquarters. A Kontras official, Arif Nurfikri, accompanied us to make the complaint about the shooting incident to Propam and Kompolnas. After the Ashar prayers, the next complaint was delivered to the National Human Rights Commission (Komnas HAM). Through a press statement, Kontras condemned the shooting and urged the National Police Chief to remove the Karawang Police Chief and Telukjambe Police Chief from their positions.

The clashes with the police and the shooting of two workers did not succeed in dampening our struggle. If anything, the event became a turning point. It revived the spirit of the workers to continue the fight. Comrades continued to spread the news of the shooting on Facebook. Solidarity and sympathy continued to flow. Although, we also experienced comments of ridicule from those opposed to our struggle. Meanwhile the situation at the factory began to subside. Several police officers could still be seen guarding the gate. Although it seemed calm, it felt like there was still an ember under the chaff. Still alight.

The campaign spreads, resistance continues

The shooting in front of the factory confirmed the fighting spirit. The incident kept the flame of resistance burning. We did not slow our pace, but instead became more steadfast. The resistance strategy was replaced with a campaign. Through Facebook and other media, we sought to highlight our comrades’ struggle. Knowing all this, the company gave no response. It seemed they were waiting for the situation to calm down while continuing to intimidate the union members. Several comrades even received letters of dismissal, with the reason given that they had reached the end of their contracts. The process with the police was also ongoing. Summons upon summons was made in relation to the fence being ruined.

After Kontras had filed the report about the shooting to Propam, several police continued to contact Riki. They requested to meet with him. We ignored all the requests. We were sure that the requests were in relation to the development of the case we had reported. At the same time, TABUR had succeeded in pressuring the head of Karawang parliament to summon the company’s management to a meeting. Setiyadi, one of the victims of the shooting, urged the parliament to form a special committee to investigate the shooting. Furthermore, it was not just an issue for workers at Fujiseat, but Karawang is an industrial city with escalating workers’ actions towards which the police should be acting professionally and not acting to repress the actions.

TABUR continued to hold solidarity actions in several cities. We received solidarity from comrades in Surabaya, Jakarta, Makassar and Semarang. They held actions at Daihatsu dealers. For us, the campaign that was spreading would become a new ammunition after our action at the factory had been repressed by the police. These actions made Daihatsu furious. They argued that they had nothing to do with the problems and demands we were fighting for. We didn’t care, except for one thing, the drum had been beaten, there was no going back.

The actions deliberately targeted Daihatsu. We sent messages to Daihatsu and urged them to pressure PT Fujiseat Indonesia to respect workers’ rights to form a union, to end the intimidation, and to reinstate the fired workers, as well as implement a collective agreement relating to converting fixed-term contract workers into permanent employment. PT Fujiseat is a manufacturer of car seats for Daihatsu cars, including Ayla, a cheap car being promoted by the government. In our opinion, Daihatsu has the responsibility to pressure PT Fujiseat Indonesia as their vendor. After coordinating with Ilhamsyah, the head of the Port Transport Workers Union (SBTPI), we received support to hold an action at the Daihatsu head office in Sunter, North Jakarta.

On motorbikes, 15 workers and two representatives of SERBUK Fujiseat held an action at the company’s gate. Although there were only 15 people protesting, there was heavy security. 3-4 riot police cars were on guard. On this occasion, in his speech, Riki stressed that, “We will urge Daihatsu to join in pressuring Fujiseat. Fujiseat has not been subject to the law.”

At this action, it was also emphasised that Daihatsu should terminate its contract with Fujiseat and if Daihatsu did not act, a campaign would be rolled out that declares Daihatsu as a participant in the violation of the human rights of workers. We felt this was the right tactic. Finally, we received some good news after the delegation managed to meet with Daihatsu management. After being shown several videos and photos of the actions across different cities, they agreed to support the resolution of the case. They immediately phoned the PT Fujiseat Indonesia management in Karawang to resolve the case.

A month after the action at the Daihatsu office, PT Fujiseat Indonesia management invited us to negotiate. Agreement was reached. On their own volition, several comrades that had been fired received the compensation offered by the company. Members of SERBUK still working at the company on fixed-term contracts immediately got their rights: they were made permanent. From Kontras we received news that several of the police involved in the shooting were transferred to distant places. The fruit of the struggle one by one could be tasted. The fruit could be picked having gone from the stages of planting persistence and sowing confidence through dripping sweat, and even drops of blood. The drops of blood of two of our comrades that were shot one afternoon at the gate of Fujiseat Indonesia.

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