Regular Indonesia watchers have been alternately pleased and appalled at the press coverage of this summer's events in the country: pleased that at last the fourth most populous nation in the world is getting the media attention it deserves, and appalled that ignorance on the part of foreign correspondents and their editors has led to such misleading interpretation and comment about what is taking place.
The attention which the recent riots received was a surprise, given that there were relatively few casualities - three dead it would seem, and none of those as a direct result of shootings. It could be argued that the Indonesian government was in this respect unfortunate. There just happened to be no big international news stories at the time and the world's press simply grabbed at what it could find.
One of the most irresponsible of their equations was to make dark comparisons between Indonesia and Burma and Indonesia and the Philippines, and to suggest that a cataclysm was just around the corner for Indonesia: one editorial in a respected newspaper began "Indonesia is in big, big trouble".
The reality of the situation was very different, but it was difficult for anyone to understand this. Of course if they had turned to regional specialists they might have been better informed, but the latter, on the whole, kept a fairly low profile since they appear to have been caught in a dilemma. If they had corrected the more scaremongering reports and pointed to the problems of describing Indonesia as a military dictatorship they would immediately have been discredited as apologists for a brutal regime engaged in acts of terror and repression. On the other hand, if they had lent their support to criticisms of the abuse of human rights and the lack of democratic controls in the country, then they would simply be confirming that exaggerated demonising which was recognisably false to them.
What has happened is that President Suharto's close advisers came to the conclusion about nine months or so ago that they had made a mistake in allowing Megawati - the daughter of the former President Sukarno - to become so popular as head of the PDI, one of the two official opposition political parties. They therefore decided to follow established practice by both opposition parties and clip her wings by ousting her from her position by a series of manoeuvres including the staging of a party conference in which she would be voted out and replaced by their man.
Of course, this kind of backstage manoeuvre is not so easy to accomplish as in the past and Suharto advisers must have expected some flak, but there is no question of Suharto having lost his touch. In the event things did get out of hand and the extent of the riots must have been largely unanticipated, as they were the last time - 20 years ago. They occurred on this scale in Jakarta, and for the same reason: the rent-a-crowd sparked off a genuine mob who used the opportunity for burning and looting.
Two things stand out in the long term. First it must be clear to Suharto's political agents that it is not so easy to act in the same high-handed way as it was 20 years ago when for the sake of stability after a very difficult economic and political period in the 1960s the country was prepared to tolerate a lot of authoritarianism: the derision with which the official mention of communist subversives was greeted is proof enough of that. Second, as many Indonesian commentators have pointed out, the principal issue may well be not what is happening to the suppression of the free choice of the leadership of the PDI but the growing social and economic gap between rich and poor in Indonesia most starkly visible in Jakarta.
Despite appearances, there is a strong sense of social justice which underlies the making of government policy in Indonesia and, although the word is not used, a socialist ethic dating back to the early years of Indonesia's independence is still a guiding principle. Once before, in the late 1970s, when kesenjangan (social inequality) was an issue, the government banned TV advertisements which it felt were inflaming the situation and creating a justifiable resentment of the lavish lifestyle of the rich. At the same time the government launched a campaign of pemerataan, a more even distribution of wealth. In the present free market climate with the clamour of deregulation and the exhortation to the government to adopt a more hands-off approach it is difficult to see the same type of intervention occurring again. Clearly, though, this is something which intellectuals and the large and vocal student population would like to see debated and about which they themselves are in two minds.
Ambivalence about the political process in Indonesia characterises the response of intellectuals in general. Those whose memories stretch back to the 1960s, although they may be sceptical of the regime's reference to the spectre of communism, well remember the chaos of those days to which they have no desire to return. They also recognise how well the middle-classes have profited from economic development over the past 20 years. Political instability would jeopardise all those gains. Consequently, if they have to choose between a totally open democratic system which runs the risk of a swift descent into anarchy or a system which mixes democratic forms with dictatorial powers - what might be seen as the Singaporean or Malaysian model - they would opt for the latter. Also they realise the maintenance and exercise of those central controls militate very strongly against economic progress and development, and in the interests of the latter they are compelled to argue for more open government.
Many of the younger generation - and this includes the student body - do not see the issue as balanced in this way. What happened in the 1960s is very difficult for them to understand, let alone vicariously experience. For them, all curbs on democratic freedoms must be vigorously opposed: the rights to protest and to free speech must be upheld at all costs. This can and does lead to calamitous consequences. Earlier this year, for example, there were student protests in Ujung Pandang in Sulawesi which were violently put down by the armed forces - something which went unremarked in the Western press at the time.
The two generations see things differently then, although sometimes they act together on certain issues. An illustration of the difference in views with respect to the present situation can be seen in the attitude taken by ICMI, the organisation of Muslim intellectuals which includes the country's most respected Muslim figures, some of whom are the most outspoken government critics. In the official statement issued by the organisation after the disturbances there was a strong emphasis on the need to keep development and progress on course and maintain stability. On the other hand it was also stated that one should be wary of flinging out accusations indiscriminately - a reference to the mention of communist subversives - and one should let the due process of law take its course. Finally, it also stressed, very pointedly, that a lot of the present discontent arose from the gap between rich and poor and that measures should be taken to ensure that social justice was always at the forefront of policy. Student response to this statement and indeed to other actions of ICMI has been a cynical dismissal of what is taken to be a semi-official defence of the government's behaviour. What they would like to see is much more vigorous condemnation of the government.
The temptation is to reserve judgement, but that is to risk the charge of being uncommitted and therefore on the side of the devils. Perhaps, though, in this particular case, that is preferable to being on the side of the angels whose voices amplified in the Western press run another risk, that of potentially contributing to chaos.
Bill Watson is senior lecturer in anthropology at the University of Kent.