EVERY TIME I come back to my hometown or visit another town in Indonesia, I never have the courage to turn my head toward any television set that is being switched on. It’s just that I feel guilty for being “a Jakarta resident”. How can I not? Almost all TV programs that are nationally aired invariably present a Jakarta-centric perspective.

Our first culprit is the news program. What can the audience in “the regions”—i.e. areas other than Jakarta, which represent the majority of Indonesians—gain from news that incessantly bring up such names as Mampang, Tebet, Plumpang, and Cilincing—all of which are names of districts in Jakarta? And when there is news with a certain national significance, it usually ends up becoming a political circus arena. What is the use of such news apart from making the audience feel even more miserable, cursing this withering country? An artist friend from Jatiwangi, a small town in West Java, once jokingly said, perhaps bitterly: “Why do we, residents of a tile-making village, need to know about the traffic jams in Slipi, West Jakarta?”

Entertainment shows are in general similarly guilty. Designed by a few people within a closed, wealthy circle in Jakarta, the entertainment shows aired on the national TV stations are not free from an unsophisticated urban perspective—or perhaps one can say that they are too strongly imbued by the perspective of a crass city dweller. All aspects of life in the village can be commented upon, showing how narrow-minded we urbanites are. Perhaps even frogs have better awareness about their surroundings.

Around a month ago, I found out that a travel show, which used to be relatively good with their introduction to the wealth of various regions, has now transformed itself into a travel show for urbanites. Perhaps the host plays an important role here—previously the host was a real adventurer, while today’s host carries a wheeled suitcase around and is afraid of the scorching sun. Understandably, when she was reporting on the stone carvers in the small East Java town of Tulungagung, the host joked that these carvers did not need to go to an expensive fitness center. I am curious as to what the carvers might think, as it is highly probable that the idea to join a fitness center never even crossed their minds.

At the times when I cannot avoid sitting in front of the TV when I am in my hometown, I cannot help wondering: Where is the information that is relevant for the development of this region? How about the entertainment programs that used to amuse the locals in the regions when the urban shows merely incited dreams and jealousy? Where did such entertainment programs go? Where is the news about the achievements of the locals who have managed to empower the people in the region?

Sometimes this guilty feeling can deliver quite a shock to me. The label of being a “Jakarta resident” has now become the equivalent of “cultural invader”. So, when my auntie commented on the television shows and said, “Fan, I think the program…” I immediately interrupted her, “I’m sooooooo sorry! Auntie, I wasn’t the one who designed the program! Really!”

* * *

Cultural invasion. That will be the “head” of the problem in the future, the resulting complication. What, then, is the root of the problem? It is not the fault of the Betawi culture that it has so far served as the cultural background of the capital city and then spread around the country; but it is clearly the fault of the national broadcasting policy and the culture of ‘using the easy way out’ that the television programs have now become so similar all over Indonesia. To analyze this problem, let us look at all the three parties that are the main stakeholders in the broadcasting policy: the government, the capital owners, and the public.

In terms of the government, I must admit that in the early days of the New Order regime, our television programs were quite advanced and they were built on a promising foundation. There was indeed a system of national broadcast, but with a branch in every region, each with the ability to produce its own programs. The problem is that the repressive culture of the New Order had constricted the development of this structure by making televisions the government’s mouthpiece.

With the advent of the Reformation, the government took a commendable step by introducing the Broadcast Act of 2002. The Act delineated, among others, the obligations of the private TV stations to establish a system of networked stations. The United States of America, the purported nest of freedom, has been using this system to avoid the uniformity of programs. Each region has its own TV station, and any program that is going to be aired nationally must go through this network of regional TV stations. In United Kingdom, national broadcast is allowed only for public television stations such as the BBC, which has a strong public oversight.

In Indonesia, however, there have been maneuvers to distort the regulations, which show that narrow-minded interests are lurking behind. The first of these maneuvers was the Government’s Decree on Broadcasts in 2005, which tended to return the control of the government and the capital owners by directing the broadcast policies into a territory that is entirely commercial in nature. Then there is the problem of the enforcement of the Broadcast Act of 2002 that has been continuously delayed, for example by the exploits of a secondary party, the capital owners.

Meanwhile, for the capital owners, national broadcast has become the norm, and these capital owners will fight against any effort to reject this system of national broadcast. I still remember clearly how in 2002, when the Broadcast Act was going to be put into effect, managers of the national televisions vehemently protested, claiming that the freedom of expression would be hampered. Upon closer observations, however, I think they were merely afraid that it is their expressions that would be stifled. Responses from the printed media proved this. The whining from the national television stations had been largely ignored, and it was as if they were screaming under the pillows. The printed media played it cool and did not respond to their whining.

Perhaps because they realized that their argument about the freedom of the press did not work—and the bill could thus be put into effect—their next strategy is to delay the execution of their obligations as delineated in the Act, and this strategy has been proven effective. The national broadcasting industry is thus standing firmly on an annoying justification: that’s just the way it is.

The broadcasting infrastructure has indeed become too firmly established in Jakarta. Then there is also the barrier of the huge capital demands, ensuring that only strong capital owners participate in the broadcasting industry. If we care to look back even further, the root cause that made the infrastructure become too strongly established in Jakarta is the fact that the economy has developed well only in Jakarta. In the midst of the chaotic efforts to block the Broadcast Act, there was the accusation that other regions in Indonesia were not ready. Give me a break. I for one see this phenomenon as reflecting how the center—i.e. Jakarta—has been so ill-prepared to serve the regions. And so here we go: the main rationale for the industry is that the national television stations have so far broadcast their programs nationally, and to change that will require a lot of money—that’s just the way it is. Graduates from the vocational schools for broadcasting in Central Java, for example, will have to move all the way to Jakarta to be able to work, and that’s just the way it is.

Well, if the public loses their trust in the state and everything that comes from the center—i.e. Jakarta—or if we become a nation that is historically-blind and culturally-blind, what kind of exorbitant cost that we must then bear? I don’t know who will benefit from such a condition, but it is clear that we as a nation will be badly off.

In terms of the public… well, honestly, there’s nothing I can say. The public has been thoroughly deprived by such policies, and the people’s rights to relevant information are still being curtailed.

* * *

At a glance, the local TV industry seems to be able to provide a breeze of fresh air, albeit still clumsily so. At least, I see a touching modesty on the local TV stations, which in general still rely on the local style of jokes, or retain the general characteristic of community media: sending greetings from one local to another or between neighbors, for example. Naturally, some members of the audience who feel that they have become “too sophisticated” (read: too much influenced by Jakarta) might think that the programs look rustic and tacky. But if we need to mimic the styles of the national TV stations to be called “cool”, I think it is better to be “not cool”.

The problem is that in general the local TV industry only grows when there are strong local financial backers residing in the region. What about the regions where there are no local sponsors? Well, in that case, prepare to be disappointed. It seems near impossible to have adequately-strong local sponsors who are simultaneously generous and visionary and able to maintain their presence for long, in order to have strong and good-quality TV programs. If those are the only prerequisites for good-quality programs (be it local or national), it is clear that the problem is just this: the regulation system does not work. The government is totally ignorant of its obligations and of the people’s rights to good-quality programs and media contents.

It does not mean that the public has not put up any fight. Community TVs are a manifestation of the consciousness of the people who desires healthy media contents. However, because consciousness as a weapon is not as strong as capitals and political lobbying, the community TVs are still slow to develop. To make things worse, the government does not support this movement and makes it difficult for the people to obtain permits to establish community TVs. Neither does the government provide broadcasting frequency for public channels. There are still other forms of ignorance on the part of the government.

The struggle of the community TVs has been difficult, and the achievements, therefore, have been touching—for example when on May 20, 2008, at the village of Grabag, Magelang (a village that has successfully established its community-based TV station), the ATVKI (Association of Indonesian Community TVs) was established, with a culturally-aware statement of declaration, stating, for example, that:

“…the domination of the private [commercial] TV stations has threatened to wipe out the local values and create homogenized culture and taste, centralized economy, and to monopolize information, which really jeopardize many aspects of our lives as people of this nation and citizens of this state…”

Well, it turns out that I don’t have to feel guilty on my own! The audience’s conscience has gradually risen, and it needs to fight against the regulator’s (i.e. government’s) ignorance as well as against the national dumbing-down, which are happening at a much faster pace.

* * *

As my auntie was dumbfounded by my previous antics, my cousin finally expressed his opinions.

“I agree with you, Fan. Those programs are often so irrelevant. Everything is about Jakarta. Even when there is news about the regions, it is only about murders, rapes, or riots. That’s not all there is to it, you know…”

“Yes, indeed. It’s truly like that, isn’t it.”

“That’s why, Fan, we prefer programs that are more national in nature. They don’t have to be about Jakarta, but they should be… what’s the word… more acceptable for everyone in Indonesia.”

“What kind of program are you thinking about?”

“Soap operas.”