Johannes Nugroho

SBY’s Deputies Are Tasked to Help, But Does Anyone Need Their Hand?

President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono recently swore in five out of eight deputy ministers, a position considered to be a novelty in the reform era but which held significance during Suharto’s New Order regime. Drawn exclusively from the ranks of senior civil servants, these deputies will be appointed to what are considered the eight most important ministries.

The fact that these deputies were sworn in by the president, in a way, puts them at par with their respective ministers. As mandated by state protocol, the appointees can only be dismissed by the president himself.

Although Yudhoyono expressed hope that the appointees would be “loyal and helpful” to their ministers, questions have remained as to the motives behind the revival of deputy ministers. If the reason behind such appointments is the workload within the ministries, the ministers could simply choose a coordinator among a roster of director generals, who are top-level civil servants themselves.

Owing their appointment exclusively to the president, these deputy ministers threaten to become co-ministers, resulting in a dyarchy in ministerial proceedings. That these ministers have civil service backgrounds makes matters worse.

It is tempting to argue that the civil service sector is the most conservative and change-resistant unit in any government in the world. The dictum that “governments may come and go, but the civil service stays put” has come to represent the status quo for civil servants, whether consciously or unconsciously.

The difficulties in reforming the civil service is best parodied in the award-winning British comedy series “Yes, Minister.” The comedy portrays the challenges being faced by a minister — and his subsequent failures — in implementing his policies in the face of cunning obstruction by his deputy, the permanent secretary. Former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher once commented that the series was indeed grounded in the reality of British politics.

In truth, any minister would not be able to function properly without the support of civil servants. Hence, having a deputy, who is also a senior civil servant, could seriously compromise the minister’s authority. Without the tacit support of the deputy, the minister is like a general who has no troops.

The need for deputies to serve ministers in so-called “hectic” departments is also dubious. The British prime minister, for example, is the leader of the party, the leader of the government as well as a member of parliament. Faced with double or even triple appointments, it is little wonder that in British politics, permanent secretaries play an important role in day-to-day government affairs.

Yet by our country’s conventions, a minister cannot be a member of the House of Representatives at the same time. Some of our ministers are technocrats with no known ties to any political party. So the appointment of deputy ministers would appear to be superfluous within the Indonesian context.

It seems that the president is anxious to provide a counterbalance to party politicking by his own allies in the new cabinet. Yudhoyono may have had no choice but to have different parties within his coalition represented in the cabinet, but he also seems to believe that dyarchical ministries may minimize any recalcitrance among his “party” ministers.

By the same token, this could well prove to be Yudhoyono’s ace against any possible rebellion by political parties within his coalition. Should any party step out of line, the president could elevate any deputy to the status of minister through a cabinet reshuffle while striking off the allocated seat of the wayward party.

This may be a brilliant move in power politics but uncannily, Yudhoyono has put his current ministers in a position he endured when his first term as president was marred by the dyarchical leadership between him and Vice President Jusuf Kalla. Hence, in appointing civil servants as a vanguard against party encroachment, Yudhoyono could be paralyzing the ministries.

The president’s penchant for order, courtesy and predictability may also have something to do with his decision to elevate civil servants to the position of deputy minister. While Yudhoyono never said anything in public, his decision to replace former Health Minister Siti Fadilah Supari was surprising, considering Supari’s achievements. But the minister was also known for her confrontational attitude toward the West, a situation the president, who has a disdain for maverick behavior within his cabinet, considered a dilemma.

The case of Supari’s successor, Endang Rahayu Setyaningsih, is also worth noting. As a former senior civil servant in the ministry, she was known to have been at odds with Supari over the issue of a US naval research facility that Supari had shut down.

If opposition by a senior civil servant, who serves under the minister, could create havoc, imagine the sort of storm a co-minister could generate. And what if the policy of any given minister runs in conflict with the president’s, with whom would the deputy minister side — the president to whom he owes his appointment or the minister who is his immediate superior?

In maintaining that only civil servants are eligible to become a deputy minister, the president also lends further prestige to a bureaucracy that may return the gesture out of loyalty to the administration. The side-effect of this may be to revive a version of the old esprit de corps among civil servants for Golkar under Suharto.

Further still, as this is his last term as president as mandated by the constitution, Yudhoyono may also want to create a lasting power base for his party. And one of the ways for him to achieve this is through the creation of a militantly supportive civil service. Toward the end of his term, this potent reserve force could be unleashed to ensure that the incumbent would indeed mastermind his own succession and legacy.

Johannes Nugroho is a writer based in Surabaya.

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