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By all accounts, 1998 was the watershed year for photojournalism in Indonesia. As a photojournalist, picture editor and chairman of Pewarta Foto Indonesia, Arbain Ram bey was right in the thick of things. By Zhuang Wubin
THE Asian bubble burst in 1997. That
year, foreign investors left the region together
with the euphoria that had accompanied
the economic boom through much of the
8os and 90s. lt would take a full year before
the impact was felt in Indonesia. And it
would eventually have a hand in the removal
of President Suharto.
In many ways, 1998 was the watershed for
Indonesia's history. While disgruntled
Indonesians took over the streets, hordes
of young photojournalists were "at the
frontline" , dodging batons and bullets,
covering the melee that eventually led to
incidents of rape and looting targeted at
wealthy Javanese and ethnic Chinese.
At the same time, journalism in Indonesia
was undergoing a revolution. Under the
reign of Suharto, press freedom was
curtailed. There were written and unwritten
codes that editors had to abide by.
newspaper has to use a picture of the event
on the front page," Arbain Rambey recalls.
"You can't even use it on the second page."
Needless to say, it led to boring journalism.
But everything came crumbling down in
1998.
Things fall apart
Like any other photojournalist, Arbain was
out on the streets photographing the
mayhem. He was then, as he is now, the
photo editor and chief photographer for
Kompas, Indonesia's largest national daily.
Instead of concentrating on the rioters who
were clenching fists and waving flags, he
looked the other way.
"In every loud and 'glamourous' situation,
there is a smaller and subtler counterpoint,"
states 43-year-old Arbain Rambey at the
lobby of my budget hotel along Jalan Jaksa,
Jakarta. "In 1998 and 1999, a lot of banks
"Whenever Suharto attends an event, every went bankrupt. I quickly zoomed in on the
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expressions of the jobless employees and
the customers who were waiting blankly to
withdraw their money."
During that period of time, Arbain also had
an opportunity to observe how foreign
photojournalists worked as they flocked
onto the streets of Jakarta, eager to make
a name for themselves. According to Arbain,
James Nachtwey was the standout.
Using only a 17mm or a 2omm lens, James
Nachtwey tried to get as close to his subjects
as possible to make dramatic pictures.
Once, Arbain asked James for his motto
and his reply was: "If you're afraid, don't
be a photojournalist."
"In November 1998, James was
photographing in the morning, only to return
with his head and hands badly injured by
police batons," Arbain continues. "By
afternoon, he was up and running again,
wearing bandages and a helmet, taking
pictures with the rest of us!"
Of course, the subsequent administrations
of B. J. Habibie and Gus Our helped ease
the restrictions on the press. When Suharto
was in power, a journalist had to put on a
suit just to get into his presidential palace.
After Gus Our was elected as the president
in 1999, a journalist could get in with
Bermudas. No doubt it was disrespectful
to do so, but it did help in debunking the
myth that the president was holy and
untouchable.
Habibie, despite having very close ties with
Suharto, was an avid photographer and a
Leica collector. In late 1998, the president
even found time to hold a photo exhibition
on clouds. Therefore, it was hardly surprising
that he was much closer to the
photojournalists as compared to Suharto.
In December 1998, President Habibie even
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invited members from Pewarta Foto
Indonesia (Organization of Indonesian
photojournalists, otherwise known as PFI)
to his residency.
As the founder and chairman of PFI till
2001, Arbain did not visit the president with
the rest of the members.
"lt's important that I don't look like I'm in
agreement with the president even though
I have nothing against him," Arbain explains.
"PFI needs to remain neutral."
Championing the cause of photojoumalists
During Suharto, there was only one press
association known as Persatuan Wartawan
Indonesia PFI. And it offered little protection
to the photojournalists.
"In many ways, the photojournalist has a
harder job than the journalist," Arbain
comments. "Whenever there's a riot, a
photojournalist has to be out there, braving
the danger to document the incident,
whereas a journalist can file a story from
his desk in the office."
In case you are wondering if Arbain is biased
against the journalist, it is assuring to know
that he actually started out as a sports
journalist for Kompas in 1990.
In his first year at Kompas, Kartono Ryadi
-the photo editor then -was so convinced that Arbain would do a good job as a reporter
and photojournalist that he promptly sent him to the 1991 Manila Games. A self-professed
Michael Jordan fan, Arbain complains he has never met the legend, despite having a few
opportunities to travel to the NBA games in America. lt was only when Arbain was
promoted to the picture editor in 1996 - leaving him more or less desk-bound - when
Jordan made his comeback. In any case, Arbain stayed at the beat for six years. And
Kartono is the one whom Arbain credits for kick-starting his career in photojournalism,
teaching him all about composition and the importance of having a striking image.
In 2000, Arbain was even assigned to head the North Sumatra bureau, where he stayed
till 2003. Therefore, he is more than credible to comment on the state of journalism in
Indonesia.
But back in 1998, Arbain was busy working out a way to channel their strength in numbers
into an organization that represented the photojournalists in Indonesia. That was how
PFI was born.
"At that time, whenever photojournalists were attacked by the army, PFI would threaten
to sue General Wiranto, who headed the military till Feb 2ooo,"Arbain recalls, on "Sensing
that we were serious, General Wiranto changed his approach and offered to pay for all
the destroyed cameras. We helped by requiring PFI members to wear a big name tag for
notification."
Therefore, the basic function of PFI is "to protect the rights of the photo journalist to take
pictures in the public sphere".
lt also helps in weeding out "black
photojournalists" who earn money by
representing PFI illegally. They are
infamously known as wartawan Bodrex
(wartawan means photographer, Bodrex
refers to a popular medicine for headaches
made by a German company).
Tilting the balance back
And so, in the short space of a year, the
liberation of the press seemed almost
complete. In the early part of 1998, the
government was infuriated when the
papers placed on the front page a picture
of the president looking terribly forlorn,
signing an agreement with the IMF as a
bullish-looking Michel Camdessus stood
beside him. By the end of the year,
Indonesians could easily find pornography
on the streets of Jakarta.
"Looking back, having absolute press
freedom is not all good, but I see it as
part of the liberation process," Arbain
elaborates. "There was a point when
papers would put the most sensational
and sadistic images on the front page.
They would take a picture of a police
being cut up into two and play it up. But
it soon reached a point when readers
started to alienate from such content."
lt was a natural progression then to the
period of reflection. Editors and
photojournalists around Indonesia would
soon incorporate the notion of elegance,
acquired by flipping through Time,
Newsweek or Far Eastern Economic Review,
into their work. Needless to say, the
proliferation of pornography died away,
as with tasteless editing.
"And I think we have the right balance
now," beams Arbain Rambey.
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