GURU INSPIRASI

Getting to know you – through a pendopo   

   

             

Dr Anton Lucas has spent much of his rich life trying to improve Indonesian-Australian relationships.  He’s studied and taught in Yogyakarta and Makassar, run an Asian Studies Centre in Australia, written well and widely, and inspired seekers of truths about Indonesia.

He’s earnest enough to look like an austere academic but sufficiently inquiring to prove a student’s life goes beyond 70.  Though powered by faith he doesn’t proselytize.  Schooled as a Protestant, Lucas now calls himself a Christian-Buddhist.    

His rare collection of documents from the post-proclamation period has been given to Flinders University library and will eventually go on line.  The papers were gathered during interviews with 324 survivors of the 1945 ‘Revolution within the Revolution’ around Pekalongan in north Central Java.

 Peristiwa Tiga Daerah (The Three Regions Affair) tells of the violent clash between ruling elites and farmers during the chaos following collapse of the Japanese occupation.

 Lucas regards his book, published in Australia as One Soul, One Struggle and likely to be re-released, as a significant accomplishment.  But his master stroke has been donating a hut.

Though not any old humpy.  This is a pendopo – a splendid four-post Javanese pavilion on the Flinders University campus in Adelaide.

The cube of Indonesian culture was built to create a sense of calm and unity despite gulfs of difference in lifestyles, world views and local customs. It’s a communal place for visitors and locals to find common cause and set signposts for others.

The pendopo has a Sekar Laris gamelan from Central Java used by students, teachers and the Indonesian diaspora.  The glass walls fold back in summer so the metallic music from a lush land drifts among the eucalyptus roots clawing arid soils.

 “It was the best thing I ever did,” Lucas said firmly before heading to Yogyakarta where he and his Indonesian wife Kadar have an extended family. The couple’s $150,000 philanthropy was revealed only after Lucas retired in 2010.

“Indonesians can feel at home here while Australians can encounter their neighbours,” Lucas added.  “It’s not just a tangible symbol for coming together; it also has an emotional dimension and a unique ambience.”

Lucas had a privileged education.  Though never gentry his Greek heritage family had property and sent their gifted son to the Anglican Geelong Grammar, famed for nurturing achievers and leaders.  

“Yet I always thought of myself as a square peg in a round hole,” he said. Set for a career as an agricultural economist or broadacre farmer he won a scholarship to the East West Centre in Hawaii.

The education and research organization opened in 1960 to ‘strengthen relations and understanding among the peoples and nations of Asia, the Pacific, and the US’.

Astonishingly his Asia Pacific origin meant he was exempted from studying a regional tongue after passing an English test.  Like most Australians he’d seen his country as a European outpost.

Another revelation came on meeting members of the Peace Corps, a US government volunteer aid program. They seemed at ease with difference, spoke Asian languages and were driven to better the world. Said Lucas: “They were not ugly Americans.”

Instead of becoming an apoplectic conservative ranting against reason the Australian turned left towards history, social justice and human rights.

He dropped ag-ec and picked up Indonesian. Through a series of curious happenings – including an encounter over a lost camera – he was steered by Australian Herb Feith.

Through this world-renowned scholar Lucas researched the Pekalongan revolusi sosial also labelled ‘struggle’ and ‘movement’, which “had never been clearly and coherently depicted”.  Some saw it as a communist revival.

The survivors’ stories opened Lucas to Indonesia’s complex past and expanded his empathies.  The square peg found the right hole, or as he said:  “Indonesia fitted me like a glove.”  

Yet much was discomforting. In a Yogyakarta jail he saw political activists broken by a brutal system during Soeharto’s Red Paranoia era.  “With a Catholic priest I tried to help a boy reconcile with his long jailed father,” Lucas said.  “We failed. This had a huge effect on me.”

At Flinders as an associate professor Lucas was also in demand as a consultant.  He worked on the documentary series Riding the Tiger about authoritarian rule in Indonesia, and with Australian funded projects on land use, social capital and local government.

He taught Indonesian culture and society, religion and social change and identities.  He also privately funded this magazine when it was staggering as a print journal. He remains treasurer.

Adding a Catholic nunnery in Java to Inside Indonesia’s subscriptions seemed a good idea.  It wasn’t. The nuns were then accused of spreading Marxism.

Despite fumbles and stumbles, relationships improved. In 1992 Prime Minister Paul Keating, who was close to Soeharto, declared Australia part of Asia. Enrolments at Flinders rose enough to support four full-time academic positions. (Now the jobs are shared and limited.)

Five years after the pendopo’s gamelan gongs first stirred the bush, Lucas and his colleagues organized a seminar on Australian-Indonesian relations. The show was packed. A book followed – Half a Century of Indonesian-Australian Interaction. 

Australians were developing a positive interest in the people next door. The feeling was mutual. The folks were getting matey and wiser.

Recalled Lucas:  “It was the pinnacle of the golden era.”  

Then the glitter dimmed.  Factors in the fade included the 1997 Asian Financial Crisis, turmoil following the 1998 fall of Soeharto, and high tension during the 1999 East Timor independence referendum.

The 2002 Bali bombs killed 202, including 88 Australians.  The government shouted travel warnings. Educational visits stopped.  University administrators found computing and communications more profitable than Asian Studies.

“To turn this around we all need to do more – and that includes Indonesians studying Australia and hosting seminars,” Lucas said. “If we lose a generation of scholars we won’t get them back. The goodwill is not so strong.

“There was no background given on why Australians reject the death penalty. (Ambassadors were withdrawn in 2015 when Indonesia snubbed pleas to save drug couriers Myuran Sukumaran and Andrew Chan from execution.)

“The failure to explain the media response to the release this year of ganja queen Schapelle Corby was an opportunity missed. “We need to tell our story about our history, multiculturalism and values, such as diversity and equality.  As in the pendopo we should listen to each other and reflect on the relationship we want.

“Otherwise I despair for the future.”

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(First published in Inside Indonesia 13 Nov 2017.  See:   http://www.insideindonesia.org/essay-getting-to-know-you-through-a-pendopo

An Indonesian language version has been published by Surya.  See here: http://surabaya.tribunnews.com/2017/12/19/memahami-anton-lucas-diplomasi-pendopo-dan-gamelan-sekar-laras  Our thanks to editor Trihatma Ningsih.

BRAIN DRAIN

Go south, young scholar                                                                   

When Kristiarto Legowo stood to open an academic conference in the South Australian capital of Adelaide he must have wondered: Have I really moved out of my homeland to take this posting?

For most of the hundred faces that the Republic’s new Ambassador to Australia could see were clearly Indonesian and young.  The few Caucasians in the lecture theater were mainly middle aged and beyond, white shocks among dark mops.

Why had so many of his compatriots flown 4,600 kilometers south to the Indonesia Council’s Open Conference at Flinders University when the small cluster of Westerners could have travelled north to a similar event? With access to higher wages, paid leave, travel allowances, study grants and stipends their journey would have involved little hardship.

In his first official engagement in the Great South Land Legowo told attendees that Indonesia should reverse the outflow and run similar conferences in the Republic.  His suggestion found wide acceptance, though wish and action don’t always cohabit well.

Getting them to come to us was also an attractive idea for those who’d funded their travel, like Bintar Mupiza and his three colleagues from the Indonesian Islamic University (IIU) in Yogyakarta. Although there was no registration fee the students paid Rp 15 million (US $1,120) each just to attend the two-day forum.

Many presenters were seasoned scholars keyboarding final references for their doctorates or post-docs and keen to defend findings before critics. However the two women and two men from IIU were undergraduates courageous enough to open up about venturing into research.

Their topics were equally challenging: Australia-Indonesia Relations, the Role of the Media on Foreign Policy Decision Making, and Measuring West Papua Independence Activists’ Rights in Indonesia’s Democracy.

Although still works in progress, the Gen Z youngsters’ contributions and their seriousness by finding the funds to fly drew compliments from senior scholars like Indonesian specialist Associate Professor Anton Lucas who used to run the Asian Studies Course at Flinders.

Since his retirement leadership has passed to Indonesian political scientist Dr Priyambudi Sulistiyanto.  Overseas academics are commonly found in Australian campus classrooms because the infusion of foreign talent is believed to enrich learning.

That’s seldom the situation in Indonesia where outsiders in the staff room are often feared as threats. Overseas academics visit to conduct research, meet colleagues and learn the language, but apart from volunteer work few teach; visa restrictions and low pay also deter. (Indonesian academic salaries are about one tenth of those in Australia.)

Foreigners are also faced with the reality that the Republic’s education system has a poor international reputation. Although government funding has risen and the numbers of Indonesian tertiary institutions rocketed, quality has remained earthbound. 

In 1950 Indonesia had ten institutions of higher education, including IIU; now there are more than 3,000 – though not all support the principles of intellectual exploration and critical thinking.

A couple have squeezed into the Times Higher Education Index of the world’s top 800 - the University of Indonesia (UI) and the Bandung Institute of Technology (ITB).

 In Australia six of the nation’s 35 universities feature in the world’s top 100.  Australia has 11 Nobel prizewinners in science, medicine and the arts while Indonesia, with a population ten times greater has none.

According to a University of Geneva study released this year links between Indonesian and foreign universities are ‘noticeably underdeveloped’ when compared to Malaysia and Singapore.

Disincentives include poverty and language barriers because courses are taught in Indonesian.  This is slowly changing as major universities start using English in some seminars. At Yogyakarta’s Universitas Gadjah Mada (UGM) the Center for Security and Peace Studies is run by Indonesians teaching in English.

Collaboration could help lift standards; Flinders has formal partnerships with eight Indonesian colleges, and other campuses have developed ties.  However the Swiss report noted ‘quite stringent regulations that foreign universities must adhere to should they wish to establish a presence in Indonesia’.

So young Indonesians have to leave their homeland to set the right coordinates for future careers; the best places to showcase their talents are conferences.

Though not just any talkfest; a gathering of sharp minds in a McDonald’s café may yield splendid results just as ideas for independence were conceived last century by the nationalist Budi Utomo (noble endeavour) students in medical school classrooms, but attitudes have changed.

Professor Michele Ford from Sydney University warned participants in a postgraduate publishing workshop at the conference that to build a good CV they need to be careful about the journals they approach and seminars they attend.

The host and event must have a record of scholarship and preferably star speakers.  To get into that firmament usually means travelling overseas. 

More than a thousand Indonesians have graduated from Flinders.  Top names include Dr Pratikno, the former rector of Yogyakarta’s UGM and now Minister of the State Secretariat, and Dr Daniel Sparringa, former Senior Adviser in Public and Political Communication to the last Indonesian President, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono.

Flinders is not the only university attracting Indonesians.  According to the Australian Embassy in Jakarta more than 8,500 – a quarter of all Indonesian tertiary students abroad -head south.  More Indonesians are squirreling away in Australian libraries than in Europe.

While nascent scholars are turning to the west, their Australian counterparts are shying away from the neighbors’ language and culture.  Government statistics show that fewer Australian students are studying Indonesian language and culture in their final high school terms than 40 years ago.

Professor Tim Lindsey of Melbourne University has said that if the enrolment slump continues Germany may have more universities teaching Indonesian than Australia.

So even if Indonesian universities learn how to play in the big league, follow Ambassador Legowo’s advice and start inviting their neighbors to fly north, few lunchboxes will be needed for visitors from Down Under.

The Indonesia Council is a professional association promoting study of Indonesian in tertiary education in Australia.  The author presented a paper at the Flinders conference.

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First published in The Jakarta Post 2 August 2017

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