Delphi: Nothing in Excess

Jagdish Bhagwati, one of the world’s finest and most renowned trade economists, gave some of his thoughts on the Doha Round and prospects for trade liberalization in yesterday’s Cato podcast. Professor Bhagwati, who is also on the Board of Advisers of Cato’s Center for Trade Policy Studies, spoke more in depth on the subject at a Cato policy forum last month titled, “U.S. Trade Policy in the Wake of Doha: Why Unilateral Trade Liberalization Makes Sense.” This is an interesting article from Cato.

I knew this restaurant  in the 1990s. This was one of the best candles light  in Jalan Margonda Raya, Depok. I remember that I came to this place many times with my friends in undergrad class. One of the uniqueness of this place is the flame above the water and coconut oil in the glass. It was very nice when we had meeting or discussion in the evening time.

Today I come alone again to this place, the condition was totally different: some parts seem untidy. The surrounding also is not as nice as before. It seems something fade away. I tried to analyze what was happen. The first thing in my mind is the concept of “depreciation”. This place has been depreciated. The second is the concept of “investment and innovation”: It seems that this place failed to ‘adopt’ investment and innovation.

Then I tried to ask the waitress, what had happened here, because according to me it seems worse than before. She replied that the business was not as good as before; there are many restaurants in this street with better facilities than us. I think she tried to tell me about severe competition in food industry in Depok. She was right, competition could be a disaster for some, but also being a blessed for others, who could invest, innovate, and compete.

Margonda Raya, 13 July 2006

My wife sent me a writing of Goenawan, one of my favorite writer. Here I attach the writing:  Zizou. Hopefully I could find in english language edition.

JIKA huruf Arab yang mengeja namanya di-Latin-kan dengan lafal Inggris, ia adalah Zayn ad-Dien. Di Indonesia ia akan dipanggil Zainuddin. Konon itu berarti “ornamen iman”. Orang tuanya datang dari Dusun Taguemoune, di bukit-bukit Aljazair yang jauh. Seperti banyak orang dari wilayah Afrika yang dilecut niat memperbaiki nasib, Smayl Zidane, si ayah, pergi merantau ke Paris. Tapi kemiskinan tetap menggilas, dan ia pindah ke Marseille, di selatan, sebuah kota yang tak teramat jauh dari negeri asal. Pada pertengahan 1960-an itu, Smayl bekerja sebagai petugas gudang, sering dalam giliran malam. Ia ingat Zainuddin mudah bermimpi buruk bila si bapak tak pulang. Sebab itu pada waktu senggangnya ia penuhkan perhatian bagi anak yang lembut hati yang dipanggilnya Yazid atau “Yaz” itu. Ketika Zidane muda sudah jadi pemain bola termasyhur, dan seluruh Prancis mengelu-elukannya sebagai pahlawan, dan para pengagumnya memanggilnya “Zizou”, bukan “Yaz”, ia tak melupakan apa yang diberikan ayahnya. “Saya mendapatkan semangat dari dia,” katanya. “Ayahlah yang mengajari kami bahwa seorang imigran harus bekerja dua kali lipat kerasnya jika dibandingkan dengan orang lain–dan tak boleh menyerah.” Daerah La Castellane, di bagian utara Kota Marseille, tempat Zainuddin Zidane dibesarkan, tempat ia bermain bola di lapangan Place de la Tartane, bukanlah wilayah yang ramah. Orang menyebutnya sebagai quartier difficile, perkampungan sulit. Di tepi jalan yang berdebu itu, di deretan perumahan kotak-kotak itu, hidup si muslim, si miskin, si minoritas, yang akhir-akhir ini merisaukan Prancis: beban, ancaman, atau bantuankah mereka? Dalam hal itu “Zizou” mau tak mau memikul sebuah pertanyaan–meskipun kita tak tahu sadarkah ia akan hal itu. Ketika Prancis keluar sebagai kampiun Piala Dunia 1998, sebuah perayaan spontan meluap di Paris: satu setengah juta manusia berderet di Champs Elysees. Sebuah potret besar Zidane, pencetak gol yang menjadikan negerinya sang juara, diproyeksikan di Arc de Triomphe. Ribuan orang berseru, tiba-tiba, “Zidane! President!” Zainuddin, keturunan minoritas yang disebut les beurs, serta-merta jadi sebuah ikon bagi sebuah bangsa yang sering disebut “paling rasialis” di Eropa. Agaknya Piala Dunia sebuah simptom: kompetisi itu adalah ekspresi nasionalisme dalam demamnya yang tak berbahaya. Juga nasionalisme yang tak sama dengan rasialisme. Eropa pernah melahirkan Naziisme, tapi ada sesuatu yang sering diabaikan: nasionalisme punya kemampuan untuk melupakan. Prancis semenjak revolusi pada abad ke-18 merupakan contohnya. Dari pengalaman itu pada abad ke-19 Ernest Renan mengemukakan pentingnya “lupa” dalam membentuk bangsa: sebuah “nasion” terjadi ketika ikatan kedaerahan, rasial, dan keagamaan tak lagi diingat-ingat. Telah tumbuh hasrat untuk berbareng (le d’sir de le’tre ensemble) di antara anasir yang berbeda-beda. Sebuah kebersamaan pun terbangun. Zidane menerima dan diterima oleh kebersamaan itu–yang bernama “Prancis”–ketika ada kehendak “melupakan” ikatannya dengan sesuatu yang bukan “Prancis”. Juga di lapangan hijau itu: “Prancis” hadir bukan cuma pada warna kaus yang seragam, tapi juga pada agresivitas Zidane yang melupakan diri bahwa ia seorang pemain Real Madrid–seperti halnya lawannya hari itu, Ronaldo dari Brasil. Demikianlah identitas “Prancis” berkibar dari lupa dan benturan. Kompetisi Piala Dunia memang metafora yang bagus tentang antagonisme, di mana perbedaan yang mutlak tak pernah ada. Sebuah pertandingan selalu mengasumsikan semacam persamaan: tak ada pihak yang 100 persen ganjil bagi pihak lain. Yang terjadi adalah ada yang menang, ada yang kalah. Sebagaimana dalam kehidupan: ada antagonisme dalam tiap kebersamaan, dan si menang naik, si kalah turun. Kesetaraan yang penuh tak bisa tercapai; tiap angka 0-0 akan diselesaikan dengan tendangan penalti. Tapi dorongan ke arah kesetaraan akhirnya tak dapat dielakkan, dan argumen untuk mengekalkan perbedaan akan terguncang. “Kami berasal dari sebuah keluarga yang tak punya apa-apa,” kata Smayl Zidane menyaksikan tempik-sorak bagi anaknya di seantero negeri. “Kini kami dihormati orang Prancis dari segala jenis.” Tapi justru karena itulah Zidane membawa sebuah pertanyaan bagi Prancis: bisakah logika perbedaan diguncang oleh logika kesetaraan? Bagaimana mungkin “mereka”–yang muslim, yang lain–dianggap sederajat dengan “kita”, mayoritas? Tampak bahwa di sini yang ditekankan bukanlah lupa, melainkan ingatan–dan wajah buruk nasionalisme pun menyeringai. Setelah kemenangan tim Prancis pada tahun 1998 itu, Jean-Marie Le Pen, pemimpin Front National–yang selalu mencurigai minoritas–akhirnya menerima Zidane dengan catatan: sang bintang adalah “putra Aljazair Prancis”. Itulah alasannya kenapa Zainuddin layak diterima di antara “kita”: Zizou datang dari keluarga “harki”, kata Arab untuk menyebut orang Aljazair yang bertempur di pihak Prancis, sang penjajah, pada masa perang kemerdekaan. Zainuddin membantah itu: keluarganya bukan pengkhianat. Tapi bisakah ia mendefinisikan diri, ketika dunia privat seseorang diserbu kebencian hitam-putih orang ramai? Oktober 2001, sebuah pertandingan persahabatan dicoba antara tim Prancis dan Aljazair di Stade de France. Pertandingan itu simbolik: kedua negeri itu tak pernah bertemu di lapangan bola sejak perang kemerdekaan Aljazair. Tapi seperti diceritakan Andrew Hussey dalam The Observer, menjelang hari itu Zidane diancam akan dibunuh. Poster dipasang: “Zidane-Harki”. Akhirnya permainan tak selesai. Beberapa anak muda keturunan Arab berseru mengelu-elukan Usamah bin Ladin dan mengutuk Republik Prancis. Demikianlah lupa dan ingatan bisa dibongkar pasang untuk diteriakkan, juga bagi si pemalu yang bersuara lirih itu, Zinedine Zidane. Goenawan Mohamad (Catatan Pinggir Majalah TEMPO, 10 Juli 2006)

The Cappucino won the match. Zidane will become the best player. It is even I think for Zidane, not for French. Endah told me with sad words when Zidane was given the card. As I said “Zidane’s Factor” was the main factor of Franc’s good luck. Zidane’s was sent out, the good luck was gone for French.

I just aim to state that whoever the winner, either Cappuccino or Croissant team, should be chosen by the good luck because the football game tells us that the skill only less than 50% in determining the result, good luck more than a half. However, my best guest is French will win, just caused by so-called “Zidane Factor”. I am waiting for Odi’s Mom “live report” from
Germany. Hopefully she will give us a great story from Olympiastadion, Berlin.

This story is based on my true experience with the truck’s driver from Sumbawa to Mataram [as part of my research] on 16.00, 6 July until 03.30, 7 July 2006 around 12 hours. The best part of the adventure was to understand some important issues based on the driver’s view such as truck’s business, political situation, poverty, and world cup.

We passed through some land marks from Sumbawa that were easier to be recognized: Simpang Karaci, Pure Kanaar, Tower Excel, Tower Telcomcell, Pototano’s Port, Kayangan’s Port, Masjid Jami, and Cakra (central business in Mataram). We stopped twice for having food and coffee. In the Pototano, we met several drivers from many trucks which waiting for the vessel for crossing the Alas Bay. We talked about the business condition, especially trucking business. The business, especially trucking business in that route, is slowing down because two reasons: high oil price and high vessels’ service fee for crossing the bay [around 100% higher than before for each]. It has happened since the mid year 2005. Some small truck’s firms were closed and the survivors could only from the big firms and has a longer route which has some advantages from the economies of scale.

They also have attention on political situation; they said what happened today in this country is the leaders only fight for their own power and wealth. The people are left behind. They just put a bad name on their political enemy for their own good. It happened since Suharto stepped down. They think that It was better on the Suharto’s time: there were many corruption but the business and the people were better than today.

On poverty, the have a confession: they are not the part of the poor people because they could not get the government’s cash transfer. They admitted got salary around 200.000 a month. Their salary could be lower if they “caught” in the street, because they have to pay for the ‘sanction’ which has no bill. Each transaction which has no bill will not be paid by the firm; they should pay from their salary.

When we talked about the world cup, the condition of conversation was alive. They are the football mania. Even though they could not watch all the playing because their job, each of them has his own favorite team. Most of them were disappointed by the loss of Germany. They prefer Germany or Brazil or Argentina won the world cup. They thought those teams are better than Italy and French in this world cup.

Our trip was continued by crossing the Bay with the vessel around 1.5 hours, then moved to Mataram. We stopped in the Simpang Lembar, because they will continue to Surabaya, while we had to stop in Mataram. I and the surveyor were having ojek to search hotel. Unfortunately, there was no hotel opened on that time: 03.30 in the morning. Finally we asked the ojecks to terminal. Then we got a nap on small musholla in the terminal until 06.00 before going back to Sumbawa around 06.30 a.m.

Hotel Cendrawasih, Sumbawa, NTB, 18.37, 07/07/06

My Mother, Andi Mambolong, is [not was] the greatest mother that I could ever known in my life. She passed away on 03.30 [wita],
June 25^th, 2006 in Sengkang, South Sulawesi, Indonesia. She left four children [I am as the youngest] and 12 grand children [Odi, my son, is the youngest]. She is meeting her husband now, Andi Panennungi, who left her around 32 years in the ‘dunia setelah kematian’.

I was called by my family [my big brother] to come home on June 22^nd when I was in Bandung for my project. I was told that my mother was sick, but they did not tell me that She was in a serious condition. When I arrived on June 23^rd, I saw my mother in a comma situation. I saw the monitor; her health indicator was getting worse: heart rate was too high around 250, oxygen absorption was low around 80 and below, her blood pressure was low around 100/20 and below, but her temperature still 35-37 Celsius degree. My first reaction was I could not accept the situation that my beloved mother will leave me. However, my family reminded me to surrender to God. Fortunately, I have two doctors in my big family who could convince me wisely about the condition of my mother that probably it is “her way” because her lever is already in a very bad condition. Then I tried to accept the God decision on my mother. On June 25^th, around 3 a.m, her blood pressure dropped into 64/15, oxygen absorption into 0-50, temperature 33 Celsius degree, but heart rate still 250 constantly. Since that condition, I did not see the monitor anymore. We just try to let her go, surrender to God, by reciting “Yasin”. On 03.30 a.m, She left us in peace forever with a big smile in her face.

One of the best way that I could remember my mother was She never pessimist. She told her children that you should never think what ever your condition today, but you should think how to move forward on what ever you could think could be better. About properties or wealth, She said that you should have a constant behave about wealth/properties:  you should have the same behavior whether you have or you don’t because it is just a temporary condition. Never treat people differently because of their properties/wealth, threat them as best as you could do. She reminded us by example, She said look “X Family”, they started their business from zero and now they become the business empire and look “Y Family”, they had big business, but now they collapsed. So, properties/wealth is just a temporary condition.

The next way that I could remember my mother is She always proud of her ancestors. She gave me a name, Maddaremmeng, after the name of my great-grand father, “ Petta Fillae La Maddaremmeng”, the Great King Warrior in one of  Wajo’s federation member in the past, who won many battles. She showed me the big cemetery of La Maddaremmeng [high around 3 meters with the Buginess Scripts, stated La Maddaremmeng], in Tempe, closed to Danau Tempe, Wajo. That place was one of the business centres in the Wajo Kingdom around 18-19 centuries which served the trade from Danau Tempe-Makassar-Batavia-Singapore-Thailand [please read Christian Pelras, The Bugis, Blackwell Publisher, 1996 for further information]. She also memorized the I La Galigo epoch. She told me the stories when I was a kid. I like the stories especially when Sawerigading facing seven battles in the sea and seven battles in the land. One thing that I could not understand until now is why I was given a name based on my ancient name [Maddaremmeng], while my brother and sisters were given names based on national name [Syamsualam, Sudiati, and Mone]. The only explanation that I got was, my name was given to memorize the greatness of the past of our ancestor [La Maddaremmeng] which become the connectors between my mother and my father’s  family based on the ‘buginess script silsilah or sitambu or lontara’.

My mother was a good believer in Islam. She reminded us to have sholat five times a day. Even though She still believes that She was the descendant of the “arung or the line of blood from the blessed king/gods” and still put “Andi” in her name which differentiate from the “common people”, She believe that “men are equal before God and they are just the same but different faces”[Sometimes I criticized her for this contradiction but She just gave me a smile without any explanation] . She said that the time has changed and even though her children have a right to have “Andi” in their name, She will not use it [it is useless and should be stopped]. She preferred to push her children to have education, because our family does not have enough properties to have a business [probably the statistician will put us in the “near poor” family].

The other way that I could remember my mother that She tried to perceive people from the good side. She said each one has a good and bad side. You should give them a chance to show the good side of them. She told us the time when our place was torn by the war between “Gurella/DI TII” and “Tentara/TNI”. Our family also was torn by the war because my mother family was joined the “Gurella/DI TII” and my father family was joined “Tentara/TNI”. My mother and my father just did the best to serve both of them when they came. The good side of that was our family and neighborhoods were protected from the violence of both from the Gurella and Tentara.

My mother treated her children, families, and others equally. She also never talked about the others unpleasant. If some people talked about someone evil, She preferred shut her mouth up. My mother has four children, one lives in Jakarta [me], one lives in Makassar [Syamsualam], and two lives in Sengkang [Sudiati and Mone]. However, she preferred stayed longer in Sengkang, probably because She has two daughters (my sisters) lives there. Probably talking and doing many things to her daughter’s children was convenience for her.

There are many ways to remember my mother, but I just want to add one important thing: her faith about destiny. She said that you should do your best until your destiny is revealed  and that is the only way you could do, nothing else. There is no certainty in this life and that what makes our life become the greatest mystery that we could ever have.

Sumbawa, NTB, Hotel Dewi, July 1^st, 2006.