Jakarta Underdogs Persitara Stage An Unlikely Comeback

North Jakarta has some of the city's poorest places—and also some of its richest. But this story is going to focus on the poor neighborhoods, the cramped, maze-like communities that grew organically outside the capital's official support system. These neighborhoods, places like Tanjung Priok, house some of the city's toughest people. Their local culture is rife with stories of them facing down adversity, fighting to defend their land, their livelihoods, and their local football club… even when it doesn't exist.

The Indonesian capital used to be a two club town, with Persija Jakarta in the city's center and Persitara in the north. Persitara was founded in 1979 as a joint collaboration between the city's north and its east—both hardscrabble places that felt removed from the realities of the city's wealthier center and south. By 1985, Persitara was exclusively a North Jakarta team. By 2014, the club no longer existed.

Now, a crew of hardcore supporters are trying to revive the team. And it might just work. The fans, who call themselves NJ Mania, were given a one-year grace period to manage the team. But they have no sponsors, no support from the official owners, and no idea how the league operates. But that's not stopping them, said Bang Farid, the head of NJ Mania.

"This is our home, this club is on our own turf," said Bang Farid. "Why wouldn't we rebuild it?

Bang Farid is working alongside former Persitara players Dadang Iskandar, Eko Prasetyo, and Sismadi to revive the team. They invited me to visit them in North Jakarta's Tugu Stadium, their home turf on the outskirts of Kelapa Gading. The stadium sits near the shipping depots and garages that populate much of working class North Jakarta. The city's port, the country's busiest, is nearby, drawing a constant stream of trucks from across Java.

As I approached the field, I saw 25 people lining up in the middle of the pitch under the unforgiving sun. They were watched by a rag-tag crew of teenage boys and older men, all decked out in Persitara gear. The practice was more of a warm-up than a showcase of their skills, but the fans didn't care either way.

"Even if there is no Persitara, NJ Mania will still be around," Bang Farid said. "That's why we will struggle against anyone who opposes us. That's why we have high hopes of a revival of Persitara."

But first, they need to reverse the effects of years of mismanagement. In 2007, the then-head of the Indonesian Football Association (PSSI) on a host of corruption charges, including a cooking oil distribution scam that cost the state Rp 169 billion ($12.6 million USD). But the man, Nurdin Halid, continued to run the PSSI from behind bars. But in 2011, he was barred from the sport by FIFA. The PSSI then split in two as rivals attempted to reform the ailing association.

For two years, there wasn't a single official football match in Indonesia. By 2014, Persitara's main stakeholder Rizal Hafid was short on cash and struggling from sanctions imposed by the PSSI. The club collapsed a short while later. Then the entire football association followed. The central government suspended PSSI in an attempt to fix it. Then FIFA suspended the entire nation over government interference in sport. The ban was lifted in 2016 after the government canceled its suspension of PSSI. The PSSI returned. Persitara didn't.

It wasn't the first time someone tried to shut Persitara down. Back in the early days of the sport, it was common for teams to be funded by the local government. But rival Persija Jakarta were always the city's clear favorite. When Sutiyoso took control of the capital, his attempts to pull the city together under the "One Jakarta" cut funding to the already struggling Persitara. Then, when football clubs were declared a waste of state funds, the whole team was transferred to private owners.

The club's supporters rode out the hard times. Why shouldn't they, Bang Farid asked. Doesn't North Jakarta deserve its own team?

"Persitara is the roots of our city," Bang Farid said. "Why should we support other team? Persija doesn't represent Jakarta because it originally came from Central Jakarta only. There are five regions in Jakarta and each had their own team at one time."

But not everyone was shedding a tear over Persitara's demise. Back when the club was still active, its supporters had gained a reputation for violence. The team is known locally by the nickname "Laskar Si Pitung" ("Pitung's Troops) in reference to the famed 19th century Betawi bandit. The club's supporters took the nickname to heart. They clashed with Persija supporters, using local derbies as an excuse to flex their muscles. The team's reputation as an underdog cemented a demand for hard men to fill out the ranks of its ultras.

The team is slowing becoming a new draw in North Jakarta. Local boys are joining the ranks of the new Persitara team, which will be playing third division football—the league's poorest and smallest division. It's a second chance, but an ironic one. A club from the richest city in Indonesia will be forced to play in its poorest league. Even on its second chance, Persitara is still the forgotten stepchild in Jakarta football.

Persitara is angling for a promotion to the second division, something its staunchest supporters believe is within reach.

"Honestly, we will always lose in terms of numbers," said Satria, a member of the Persitara ultras. "But we're such militant fans, we're willing to be put to the test."

Satria, like many Persitara fans, has supported the team since childhood. For Satria, whose name means "knight," his first taste of the chaos of a Persitara match was life changing. Persitara defined who you were. It defined where you were from. It was more important than just hoping your team wins, he said.

"North Jakarta is always underestimated," Satria said. "People say we're just the sons of fishermen. Just beach kids. We're the minority. The ones getting mocked. But that's the source of our strength."