Campaigns have been launched urging people to stay indoors, at first using unfamiliar terms like ‘work from home’ and ‘lockdown.’ Now it’s being expressed in a language the majority of the citizenry can understand, often in local dialects and, better still, with a touch of humor only Indonesians can conjure up in serious times like these.
Fund-raising efforts are underway to buy much-needed protective gear for medical personnel around the country and to also to provide relief for those workers in the informal sector who live hand-to-mouth. Netizens have also created an app to supplement the official information coming from the government, much of it opinions and helpful advice from health practitioners, medical experts and related academics. There are limits to good intentions, but the least the public can do is to stay home and stop socializing, even with relatives.
Of course, that’s easy for those living in comfortable homes. It is a lot different for the urban poor, who live in cramped quarters, often taking turns sleeping in cots and lacking access to sanitation and potable water. According to 2019 data from the National Statistics Bureau, the capital city of Jakarta has 365,550 citizens earning an average of Rp630.000 (US$39) a month. The destitute constitute 3.47% of the city’s population. One doesn’t have to look hard to find such conditions at the foot of majestic office towers and luxury apartment blocks, and in the alleys behind gated housing complexes. Even if we were to supplement their income, how can we expect them to stay home?
With the threat of recession looming, the 2020 state budget has had to be revised to contain the pandemic and ward off an economic crisis. Provisions have to be made for those immediately affected by the slowdown, with the government setting aside Rp405 trillion (US$24.7 billion), of which Rp110 trillion is allocated for a social safety net.
Part of that will go towards 10 million lower-income families, who will benefit from monthly disbursements between April and June. An additional 4.8 million families will receive food subsidies of Rp200.000 a month, up from the Rp150.000 they currently receive. As many as 5.6 million informal sector workers, or those faced with unemployment, will each receive Rp3.5 million worth of training and some income for the next four months.
The government will also pick up the electricity bills for 24 million of the lowest-tier PLN customers for the next three months, including 2.5 million subscribers in Jakarta alone. Clearly, these funds have to be disbursed quickly and effectively to make sure that they do reach the most vulnerable in a timely fashion. But will these incentives be enough to make people stay where they are?
According to a Katadata Insight Center survey, Jakarta is the most susceptible of all Indonesia’s 34 provinces to the spread of the virus, based on such local characteristics as public health and, particularly, the mobility of its residents. Not surprisingly, half of the 4,839 confirmed Covid-19 cases (as of April 14) are in the capital, which explains why Jakarta Governor Anies Baswedan has been pushing for a lockdown of the city, similar to that imposed by the Chinese and Italian governments. Unfortunately for him, it has not been his call. It is the central government’s decision to make.
In public health emergencies such as this, only the central government has the authority to either impose a total lockdown, as stipulated in the 2018 Quarantine Law, or far-reaching social restrictions. President Joko Widodo’s reluctance to go all the way may be due to the stipulation in the law which states that once a quarantine is declared, the basic needs of the people must be borne by the state. According to one estimate, that would cost at least Rp300 trillion for Jakarta’s 10 million citizens alone.
The next best thing is the declaration of tough new social restrictions, which the government finally allowed Governor Baswedan to enforce on April 7. This means that schools and offices can be closed and religious and public activities severely curtailed. It has been a long time coming, but after so much dithering the majority of Jakarta’s residents have already slowly become adjusted to the idea.
The difference between physical distancing and actual quarantine is that the government does not have to bear the burden of providing for the public’s basic needs because they can still travel to markets and pharmacies themselves. It also means the economy continues to keep ticking over, ensuring that informal sector workers have at least an income to call on.
We have yet to see how strictly Jakarta authorities enforce the restrictions. In a quarantine situation, health officers and the police can sanction and impose criminal penalties. But under the current regime, it is not clear what they are and whether they will be enough to act as a deterrent in a society still getting used to the strange times it is being forced to live in.
If the disbursements do not reach them in time — and the most vulnerable are unable to hold out indefinitely — they will have no choice but to leave the city and return to their hometowns, knowing full well that once they get there, they will have to be isolated for at least a fortnight. “Mudik” in the time of Covid-19 won’t be part of the traditional Ramadhan homecoming. It will be performed in desperation and only with survival in mind. At that point, appeals will not be enough.
NATALIA SOEBAGJO
Jakarta-based Writer
