L....Is
For Lurah
by Sue Potter
I found a battle-scarred behemoth
of a desk at a favorite “antique” shop, and was
told, “Yah, itu meja Lurah(1).” Since then I’ve
been impressed by the title: whoever sat behind
that desk obviously commanded respect. This is
no empty illusion, as head of a regional subdistrict, or
kelurahan, Bp. Lurah is the highest-ranking government
official most Indonesians will deal with face-to-face.
Indonesia is broken up into provinces, which are
broken up further into three district categories:
kabupaten, kotamadya and kota. Kabupaten, or regencies, consist
of the provincial capital and often quite extensive
surrounding lands; they’re headed by the regent,
or Bupati.
Kotamadya are large cities with their suburbs,
headed by a mayor, or Walikota. Small cities or
towns with associated suburbs form kota, also
headed by a Walikota.
Kabupaten are further broken up into kecamatan,
or sub-districts. These are headed by a Camat,
or sub-district head. Kecamatan are broken up
into even smaller areas, depending on population: villages,
or desa, headed by Kepala Desa, or village heads,
and kelurahan, areas within towns or cities, headed
by Lurah. Desa and kelurahan are the lowest level of
formal, paid-with-pensions, structured government.
Kepala Desa especially have a reputation of being
“big fish in a small pond,” and are often chosen
for their very real importance within a community.
They also usually have “day jobs”, since their civil
service pay is small; many spend a large part of the day farming.
City-dwelling Lurah, however, supervise yet another,
even smaller organizational level. Voluntary positions
with only nominal pay, the Rukun Warga, or RW (community
head) and Rukun Tetangga, or RT (neighborhood
head) deal with their communities’ daily needs.
Every resident of Indonesia reports to his or her
neighborhood head who registers everyone’s comings
and goings, births and deaths; authorizes issuance
of the mandatory identity card, Kartu Tanda
Penduduk,
or KTP; and generally keeps an eye on things.
The Rukun Warga, or RW keeps track of several
RT and communicates back and forth with Pak Lurah.
It’s an effective system that’s been in use since
at least 1942 and was finally formalized in 1954.
Any information the government wishes to spread
quickly can be sent down the ranks until it hits
the office of the Lurah, who’ll type up and send
off memos with his seal to the RW, who’ll forward
them on to the RT, who acts on the orders. From manning
voting booths, to implementing the recent polio
vaccination program and organizing emergency security
patrols, the Lurah-RW-RT group is key
to making sure every resident participates when necessary.
The Lurah also dispenses kartu miskin,
official “poverty
cards,” to needy residents approved by the RT
and RW. The kartu miskin allows families to use government
hospitals and clinics for free, to pay smaller
fees at selected schools, and to buy “beraskin” or beras
miskin, literally “poor rice.” Bapak
Lurah signs off on all land sales and purchases
after the RT has checked the land status. Adoption papers,
including those for foreigners hoping to adopt
an Indonesian child, are subject to partial review by Pak Lurah.
The RW’s main role is liaison, but he has other
specific duties, such as supervising cleanliness
and security for the area. The RT does the actual
organization. He contracts garbage service and
organizes “Hansip,” or Pertahanan Sipil(2), who provide
security within the RT area for which residents
pay between Rp.3,000 and 5,000 monthly. Hansip patrol nightly, banging on lampposts as they make their
rounds so hoodlums will know the area is actively
protected. Karin Sukarya points out a side duty
of Hansip: if an unmarried couple is found cohabiting, the
Hansip is duty-bound to report them and admonish
them to marry. If a couple is tangkap Hansip,
literally “caught by the Hansip,” they’re often
considered duly married by the neighbors, sometimes
to the consternation of one or both partners. It
does, however, save the cost of an expensive wedding.
“Pak RT,” as the first contact in any government
transaction, ends up being a sort of “neighborhood
father.” A good RT will know who’s ill, out of work,
or needs help in some way, and he’ll take steps
to find help for them. The RT also
organizes special celebrations for Independence
Day, August 17, collecting funds for games, prizes,
food, and entertainment. With around 30 to 60 families
to supervise, he’s kept busy. Though the official
ratio is seven RT to one RW, there can be anywhere
from eight to twenty RT within an RW. Around ten
to twelve RW form a kelurahan.
Everyone must register
with the RT when moving into a new home, so you
should all have met your RT. Meeting the RW takes
more effort, and meeting Bp. Lurah means you’ve
got serious business to discuss. This city district
division serves another practical purpose in addition
to facilitating communication: all cities in Indonesia
are laid out and numbered with the RT/RW system.
Most addresses reflect this, stating this information
along with the often-confusing street name and house
number. An address could read RT007/RW015.
1 “Oh Madam has found the Lurah’s desk.” Meja
Lurah is a term used by many antique stores to describe any slightly
rustic,
massive old desk, often with some individual quirks. This seems
odd today since almost all Lurah have the same
government-issue desks.
2 In many heavily foreign-inhabited neighborhoods, in times
of trouble like the May 1998 riots, private security guards
or SATPAM carried the burden of vigilance. However,
in areas with few SATPAM, every adult male was required to
take a turn on guard duty; some foreigners were
seen warily patrolling with golf clubs.
Bibliography
RT, RW do not act on behalf of people. Bambang Nurbianto, Jakarta
Post, June 27, 2002.
Jakarta, A History, Susan Abeyasekere, pg. 203, Oxford University
Press, Singapore, 1990.
Note:
In the interests of sane typing (and sort of conforming with
daily Indonesian practice) I dispensed with the doubling of
words to form the Indonesian plural or indicating plurals with
the
superscript ‘2’, and used Indonesian terms as both
singular and plural interchangeably. Thus you may find a single
lurah,
or many lurah, referred to in the same way – it
seemed somehow more proper than ‘pluralizing’ lurahs and camats
and bupatis in the English style.
Also – RT and RW can refer to either the person or the district
he oversees.
Acknowledgements
The bulk of this information was graciously given to me by
my RT, Bp. Moelyono Hadipoero. Thanks also to Yvonne
Pangemanan for the “organigram” showing Indonesia’s government
structure,
and to Karin Sukarya, Bp. Matrukkul, Bp. Tumadi,
Bp. Budi, Ibu Isah and Ibu Diana H. for patient advice and
editing help.
Published in The Indonesian Heritage Society Newsletter,
October 2005
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