The Anti-Corruption Commission (KPK) recently indicted Abdullah and two associates for allegedly slipping lawmakers 31.5 billion rupiah (S$4.8 million) to smooth the passage of a 2004 amendment to the Finance Law.

The case - and a similar one last year involving the Maritime Ministry - provides more evidence that for all the strides Indonesia has made towards democracy, a number of the people's representatives represent no one but themselves and their parties.

Former Legislation Committee chairman Muhammad Hikam says much of the blame for this rests with the House leadership itself. It has not pushed hard to create an autonomous funding agency, leaving Parliament's 1.8 trillion rupiah budget in the hands of the Finance Ministry.

Mr Hikam points out that the current system allows legislators opportunities for abuse. 'We're still very early in the reform process to say the least. We may have the best software available, but if you don't have modern hardware, you will always get system failure.'

He adds: 'Parties never think of the legislative branch, they only think of the executive branch. That's the focus. That's why national lawmakers would much prefer to be governors or bupatis (regents) because the mindset of the political elite is that executive power is everything.'

For political scientist Marcus Mietzner, the real problem is an under-funded democratic system where, in the absence of membership dues and other more traditional means of raising money, political parties rely on what can be gleaned from lawmaking to fill their coffers.

Only 20 per cent of the current House membership is considered to be reform-minded. Researchers say little attention is ever paid to the pressures lawmakers are under to cough up money for community leaders and social groups in their home constituencies.

With parties already taking 10 per cent to 40 per cent of the 30 million rupiah lawmakers receive in take-home pay each month, some say they could never afford to be in Parliament if they did not have a private business to pay for their candidacy and election campaigns and to support routine political activities.

A top specialist on Indonesian political affairs, Mr Mietzner believes the only practical solution is for the government to provide parties with most of their funding.

The state does pay subsidies to parties according to the seats they win in elections. But an 89 per cent subsidy cut in 2005 has led to a rise in illicit fundraising efforts.

The way things stand, the more important the legislation, the more expensive the process becomes. Commissions form special committees, which are often then broken down into working committees and even technical sub-committees.

Sometimes there are ideological reasons for the long delays in passing Bills. But drawing out the process tends to raise the price - both politically and financially.

Of a laundry list of 250 Bills on the programme for 2004-2009, only 110 have been read so far and 80 approved. Last year, just 30 of the 76 Bills considered by Parliament were passed - half of them Bills members generated themselves to establish new regional administrations.

There's a good reason for that. Parliamentary and other sources say local elites may fork out up to US$25 million (S$35 million) to get approval for the creation of a new province, and US$10 million for a new regency.

It is well known that the 11 House commissions are divided into two groups - those such as finance, energy and state enterprises are known as 'springs', and those such as religion, foreign affairs and education are dubbed 'tears' because they present few opportunities for financial gain.

The Bank Indonesia case is still open to scrutiny, but the practice of routinely paying lawmakers to speed up or pass legislation, approve budgets and choose particular candidates for important government posts appears to have no bounds.

It was straight-shooting Supreme Audit Agency chairman Anwar Nasution who reported the irregularities in the central bank accounts to the KPK - the now fully staffed 550-strong body tasked with tackling high-profile corruption cases in the bureaucracy.

Mr Nasution has a better idea than most about the case. He was the bank's senior deputy governor, although he was not present at the meeting of the board of governors in June 2003 when the decision to disburse the funds was made. People who know him say he has been troubled by that ever since.

The money is said to have gone to 16 members of the finance commission, of whom nine kept their seats in the 2004 elections. The House ethics committee is holding a separate inquiry, but dealing just with the individuals concerned ignores the fact that the beneficiaries are often their parties as well.

So ingrained is the practice that a respected candidate for one of the nine slots on the new Constitutional Court in 2003 recalls being asked to pay 35 million rupiah - ostensibly to help defray the costs of the selection process.

Because he could not identify the voice of the person who made the 'request', he still isn't sure whom he was talking to - the judicial commission chairman, now a provincial governor whose land-line the candidate had been requested to call, or whether it was a parliamentary staffer looking for a quick buck.

'What kind of state asks for money like this,' he recalls asking. Needless to say, his refusal meant he did not make the cut.

In mid-2005, the head of the Nias and Aceh Reconstruction Agency (BRR), Mr Kuntoro Mangkusubroto, kept his nerve through five days of hearings in a central Jakarta hotel meeting room over the 4.5 trillion rupiah budget the BRR needed to kick-start tsunami reconstruction efforts.

Typically, no one on Parliament's budget committee actually asked for a cut of the pie, but the implication was there, particularly in the studied delays on the final day and in the phone calls lawmakers were getting from ministers of two of the major parties.

Aides say the squeaky- clean Mr Mangkusubroto told them not to be drawn into any private sessions and to confine everything to the meeting room. Eventually, the committee capitulated and, since then, annual budget hearings have taken just over two hours.

Only the Anti-Corruption Commission has remained immune from such shenanigans. In fact, its experience has been entirely opposite, with KPK sources complaining that legislators have sought to cut spending on new computers and communications equipment designed to make the commission more effective.

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