Consider this a formal complaint from me. The name of my childhood hero, the English folktale legend Robin Hood, has been recently brought up for comparisons with Rokhmin Dahuri, the former Minister of Marine and Fisheries, now embroiled in a graft case. The latter is accused of unlawful expenditure of departmental fund, most notably for presidential candidates of the 2004 general election.

Court proceedings revealed that Rokhmin's charity was not limited to the top political circle. Accounting book by his personal assistant at the ministry logs beneficiaries as diverse as lawmakers, community leaders, organizations, college administrator, highschool, alumni associations, corporations, associates, and family members. Rokhmin's generosity is so extraordinary that colleagues and critics hailed him as "Rokhmin Hood."

Well, I beg to differ.

The two men couldn't have been more different. Robin, the Earl of Locksley, steals from the rich to give to the poor; Rokhmin, as we now know, took public fund and gave it to the rich. To protect the weak and expose injustices, Robin Hood learned the techniques of archery. To protect his family and cover their expenses, Rokhmin learned the skills of treachery.

Robin of Locksley fights corrupt officials; Rokhmin of Foxly is himself a corrupt official.

Perhaps the only parallel between Robin and Rokhmin is that both are attached to equally devoted companions. In a play by Lord Alfred Tennyson, The Foresters, Maid Marian defends her lover as fighting to save England and for the liberty of his people. In her remarks to the media, Pigo Selvi Anas contends that her husband's carefree handling of the ministry's coffer can hardly be considered graft.

Her husband is a victim, Lady Pigo says, of an age-old tradition. Non-budgetary fund is customary in government ministries, and its lax expenditure is not unusual. Other administrators do the same and, Pigo volunteered names, ministers before Rokhmin did it too. Why then, she asks, is her husband the only one penalized? Because in the language of relativity, Pigo seems to argue, what Rokhmin did with the fund is not graft; it's graft-ness. It depends on how one looks at it.

Rokhmin's family, Pigo conveyed at another time, is disappointed with the way the fund scandal is being dealt with. In their eyes, the matter has been blown out of proportion and Rokhmin treated unjustly. He has been such an honest and devoted public servant that he often prioritized duty over spending time with family. It is, in other words, rather ungrateful of the Indonesian public now to chastise Rokhmin so mercilessly.

Thankfully, Pigo is not alone with her argument.

Among the presidential candidates who received contribution from Rokhmin, Amien Rais has publicly acknowledged the blunder. His admission earned him respect and praises from many corners as a gesture of honesty and integrity. Apparently, our expectation in stamping out corruption has been so severely compromised that we are ready to pay homage to just about anyone who would come clean.

Amien not only confessed, but gallantly declared that he would accept the legal consequence of the dubious donation. Yet, he put forward a condition -- that all other frauds be penalized accordingly. So if he is to get 10 years of jail time for the illicit 200 million rupiahs, big embezzlers must be locked up for centuries. Like Pigo, Amien adheres to the principle of relativity.

I have a feeling that this won't be the last time we hear such an argument. We should therefore counter this philosophy philosophically.

Though Rokhmin and Amien are not quite the legend of Nottingham, we need to introduce to them the theory of "nothingness." It postulates that every existence is due to detectability; things exist, because human perceptions can detect them. To be (to exist) is to be perceived, as the philosopher George Berkeley puts it. Rokhmin and Amien must be penalized simply because they have been detected with improper handling and consumptions of public fund.

In the principle of “nothingness,” big embezzlers that Amien alluded to cannot be penalized not because they don’t really exist, but because they are not yet detected. They will have to wait for their turn. In fact, it would be nice if Amien helps out to “detect” them.

In the end, for practical reasons, we just can’t put all embezzlers in jail. For one, we don't have enough rooms even if all our prisons were to be crammed to the roof. But more importantly, who’s going to run the government?

If only we can call on the real Robin Hood to save us too.