Proton saga and RI’s science inferiority complex Dewi Safitri ;  A former BBC journalist and Chevening scholar 2014 in science technology in society at University College London

JAKARTA POST, 22 Februari 2015

                                                                                                                                     

                                                

The collapse of the National Automobile (Mobnas) project under Hutomo “Tommy” Mandala Putra Soeharto came in 1998. After 17 years, opposition mounted to another Mobnas project that reminded the public of the New Order’s cronyism. Political controversy aside, I would argue that signing up of Malaysia’s — or any other foreign country’s automotive industry — for a project dubbed the Indonesian National Automotive project, is in direct contempt of Indonesian science. After all, this is the only Southeast Asian country that boasts ownership of an airplane manufacturer. Heavily developed by state funds, nonetheless PT Dirgantara Indonesia (PTDI) was the source of national pride and a symbol of technological might. If the country is capable of producing aircraft that fly safely, why can’t it make its own national car? Indonesian science funds are listed among the lowest in Organization of the Islamic Conference group. This is why the agreement between Proton and Indonesian partner PT Adiperkasa Citra Lestari, which was signed before President Joko “Jokowi” Widodo in Kuala Lumpur recently, sparked a massive backlash. If Jokowi visited Wikipedia, it would show that Indonesia has not only one, two or three Mobnas-like projects, but 22 within the last 40 years. The Soeharto regime envisioned a program to create an industry reliant on local sources for an Indonesian car. Despite Soeharto’s poor record of upholding democracy and human rights, his view of science and technology was farsighted. Hence the birth of the PTDI and a Mobnas-like project in 1975, started with a standard prototype from Japanese car giant Toyota. He kept the dream alive with massive funding (an estimate in 1993 put the figure at US$2 billion annually for PTDI alone), hiring the best scientific talent from around the world and summoning Indonesian aviation-whiz BJ Habibie back from Germany. Habibie was, some argue still is, the poster boy for Indonesia’s scientific potential. Young and relentlessly bright, he was among the first Indonesians to benefit from former president Sukarno’s scholarship program abroad in the early 1960s. Habibie kicked off Indonesia’s strategic industries with a loud bang, creating massive companies that relied solely on technology to build artillery and military vehicles, warships and airplanes. Again, after such advanced technologies, why does our shared longing for a national vehicle never materialize? One explanation would reflect on Habibie’s vision of a “technological leap” for Indonesia’s science build-up. While most Indonesians in the 1980s craved cars, the airplane making and ship building industries were believed to be a better strategy to propel Indonesia’s economic growth. That was of course until the Asian financial crisis in 1998 shattered this ideal. The PTDI’s cash balance plummeted and it barely survived. Another explanation would be corruption. Even while Soeharto envisioned a Mobnas project, he chose to comply with his youngest son’s wish to import and cater to the demand for affordable cars with subsidies paid by taxpayers’ money. In 1995, Tommy did not have to build his automotive industry from scratch, and hence his Timor cars were born from the plants of South Korea’s Kia Motor Company. Today, the government and industries have yet to move on from this mentality. The fact that local mechanical expertise has developed so far as students from vocational schools are now making their own Esemka cars, does little to change that perception. Little trust in technological ability coupled with an ambition to earn fast money from the exuberant Indonesian automotive market has prevented Indonesians from driving Indonesian-made vehicles. After harsh criticism of the Proton deal in Kuala Lumpur, President Jokowi reaffirmed his belief in Esemka cars as his choice of national car. However, we know very little of what concrete steps he will take to support his pledge. The government’s plan to increase research funds has not yet materialized. Indonesia’s research and development (R&D) has received a double blow: low trust from the industry and minimum support from the government. At 0.8 percent of gross domestic product (GDP), Indonesian science funds are listed among the lowest in Organization of the Islamic Conference group, even lower than Bangladesh and Sudan. It does not take a rocket scientist to figure out how science develops, with high funding both from industries and the state. However, for private enterprises, science is only meaningful once it promises a return for investment. This is why state funding is crucial to keep national scientific ambition alive. The South Korean economy has grown substantially as its government funds its R&D — from a poor 0.39 percent of GDP before the 1970s to the world’s biggest outlay of 4.36 percent by 2012. Make no mistake. Such is the price of science superiority. ●