Indonesian Gold. Kerry B Collison
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stockholders into relationships and commitments that would have attracted considerable rebuke by their own country’s monitoring authorities, had such activities been undertaken at home. Around Jakarta’s mushrooming bars such as the George and Dragon and The Eastern Promise language changed, adapting new terminology to expatriates’ lexicons. ‘Farm In’ and ‘Farm Out’, ‘Contracts of Work’, ‘Diamond’ and ‘Core Drilling’ virtually became mandatory vocabulary for one to participate in any bar dialogue as the number of opportunists grew, and deals were struck in the smoke-filled drinking holes.
Although unpopular with the brokers, Stewart Campbell’s consultancy grew exponentially to the surge in mining activity, his clients, mainly American interests, keen to evaluate leases on offer by smaller, and under-capitalized corporations, clearly incapable of developing the concessions they had acquired.
****
Campbell ’s driver pulled to an abrupt halt with an apologetic look, his concerned eyes scanning the internal rear-vision mirror for his Tuan’s response. Unexpectedly, a military convoy had punched through the mid-morning traffic, lead motorcycles’ sirens signaling their intrusion, demanding passage and access to the Senayan Sports Complex where elements of TNI, the Indonesian Armed Forces, were assembling in preparation for the Heroes’ Day parade. On his left, he could see lines of light tanks, AMX-13s, PT-76s and Scorpions. Saladin and Ferret reconnaissance vehicles were scattered amongst a large number of the Army’s APCs – Saracens, Commando Rangers and Stormers were prominent. And, above the Asian Games Complex, a squadron of BO-105 helicopters practised maneuvers for the big day.
Campbell sat in quiet repose as his vehicle continued down the main protocol road, Jalan Jenderal Sudirman, reflecting on how Indonesia’s brutal, military-controlled government had so firmly ensconced itself under President Suharto’s guardianship. He had learned that, in order to succeed in this country, one required access to all echelons within the TNI military and political machine, as the armed forces had developed extensive business interests across the nation, penetrating all sectors of the economy – the mining sector amongst the more recent to attract the generals’ interest. Once General Suharto had assumed power in a coup d’etat in 1966, the Javanese and Sumatran generals had set about monopolizing the Indonesian economy, forging working relationships with Chinese cukongs who were only too eager to share in the spoils. Using foundations as their guise, senior officers accumulated great wealth, the stars on their shoulders guaranteeing their fortunes.
Stewart Campbell accepted that the country had benefited under Suharto. Literacy had climbed dramatically, longevity increased, family planning programs had been implemented and infrastructure projects all provided a standard of living unknown during the Soekarno years. Nevertheless, the increased levels of disposable income had come at a price. The dictatorial president’s family’s domination of all commercial activity resulted in project cost being inflated to compensate for massive commission payments to the First Family, their wealth estimated in the tens of billions of dollars as the national debt spiraled out of control. The First Lady was irreverently referred to as Madame Ten Percent, and not because her given name was Tien. Charities and foundations chaired by Madame Tien played an integral role in the gathering processes, collecting fees and siphoning off funds for vested-interest projects. Suharto’s sons and daughters led the charge in gutting the economy, their greed only exceeded by their arrogance as their power and wealth grew to incredible proportions. Nepotism was alive and well in Indonesia and Campbell accepted that, to survive, it was essential that he address the situation pragmatically, as had the Chinese.
He was reminded that the Chinese had been targeted during the 1965-66 anti-communist sweeps across the nation when more than half a million Indonesians died, surprised how the collective memory of those murderous times failed to identify current trends. Campbell, conscious of the growing groundswell of indigenous anti-Chinese sentiment, believed it inevitable that history would repeat itself. The disparity between rich and poor was growing at an alarming rate, the powerful, pribumi Islamic parties becoming more outspoken in the mosques.
Under the New Order’s patronage, new dynasties were created, cukong families such as the Lims and Riyadis enjoying a meteoric rise in their fortunes and global influence; Mochtar Riyadi’s son James, a frequent visitor to Governor Clinton’s offices where he assisted to fill the future president’s coffers with re-election campaign funds. Ranches, banks, condominiums, hotels and casinos in Australia, New Zealand, Singapore and the United States felt the hand of Jakarta’s nouvea riche Chinese as they galloped down the international acquisition trail. And, within Indonesia, steel and flourmills, cement plants, television broadcast licenses, timber concessions, textile factories, car assembly and even electric power plants were delivered to those favored by the family living in Jalan Cendana.
****
Campbell ’s cell-phone dragged him out of his reverie.
‘Thought you might have overslept,’ the caller admonished. Campbell checked his wristwatch again, shrugging at being only half an hour late.
‘Just about there, Phil,’ he responded, with warmth. The men had attended the same campus, their friendship often tested by professional considerations. It had been Samuels who had been instrumental in Campbell’s securing work with Baron Mining over the years, Stewart often acting as the other’s local consultant to the multinational.
‘Okay. I’m in Mina’s Restaurant,’ Samuels advised, just as Campbell’s driver pulled into the hotel’s driveway. Campbell hung up and then climbed out, nodding at the doorman who had opened the car’s door.
‘Selamat datang,Tuan,’ the attendant welcomed.
‘Selamat siang,’ Campbell responded, entering the Sahid Jaya Hotel with leisurely stride, waving at the barrage of beautiful Indonesian receptionists.
‘Hallo, Mister Stewart.’ One of the staff, a Menadonese girl who had dated the foreigner occasionally, smiled, emphasizing the ‘mister’ in playful manner. Campbell stopped for a few moments to exchange pleasantries, enjoying the customary banter.
‘Where’s your new girlfriend,Tuan?’ she challenged, hopefully, her body language obvious to all present.
‘Waiting at home with the others,’ he lied, enjoying the feigned looks of disgust and surprise as he wheeled and strode off towards the restaurant. The maitre d’ greeted Campbell warmly, escorting him to a corner table where his client waited.
‘Sorry I’m running a little late,’ he apologized, permitting the waiter to unfold his serviette and place this across his lap. ‘Usual traffic problems,’ he added, casting a glance around the magnificent décor. Mina’s specialized in Chinese seafood; the softly lit surrounds were decorated to resemble an outdoor, provincial fishing village. Fishing nets strung from a main mast pole centered amongst the buffet selections added to the ambience, whilst miniature, thatched roofs built above tables added the finishing touches.
Campbell surveyed the clientele, acknowledging an occasional wave from some, ignoring others. In the far corner he spotted a group deep in conversation, recognizing two of the men as Alex Kremenchug and Eric Baird. Kremenchug spotted Campbell, the forced smile and raised-glass requiring Stewart to respond.
‘You know those guys?’ Samuels asked, glancing over his shoulder.
‘Sure,’ Campbell replied. ‘Permanent expats. Been around for years.’
‘And the one in the suit?’ Campbell glanced over again.
‘The one sitting facing the others?’ He took a brief moment to examine the man in question then shook his head. ‘No,’ he answered slowly and with some uncertainty. ‘Can’t say that I do.’ Again he glanced over at the tall, middle-aged foreigner whose cheeks were partially covered with long, untidy, gray sideburns. Then Campbell frowned – something triggered his memory suggesting that he had seen the face before. ‘I’m not sure.’ He glanced over again, then shook his head, ‘Should I?’
Phil looked at Stewart with