ROESLAN ABDULGANI: 'Supersemar exists'

(Above: Dr Abdulgani's daughter, Retnawati Abdulgani-Knapp and fellow historian Dr Frank Palmos in November 2011)

SURVIVING THE KLEPTOCRAZIES:

First published in Inside Indonesia Edition 77 Jan-March 2004, but now curiously absent from the magazine’s archives. Republished here to make it more accessible following the publishing of Frank Palmos' thesis on the Battle of Surabaya (see stories below). Dr Abdulgani died in 2005.

Reflections from former Foreign Affairs Minister and Deputy Prime Minister, Dr. H. Roeslan Abdulgani.

Duncan Graham

“Supersemar does exist. I have seen it. It is still in the hands of

Harto. [Suharto, Indonesia’s second president.] But it was

misinterpreted by him to remove Sukarno”.

Supersemar (Surat Perintah Sebelas Maret), or Letter of 11 March) was a

letter allegedly written by Sukarno requesting that Suharto impose order

following the 1965 coup. It was used as the legal authority transferring

power to Suharto — but a copy has never surfaced.

There are probably as many anecdotes about the mysterious document and

the events surrounding it as there are Indonesians. Very few who were

close to the action are still alive and remember with clarity their

experiences first hand.

The anecdote quoted above is by former Foreign Affairs Minister and

Deputy Prime Minister Dr Roeslan (also known as Ruslan) Abdulgani, whose revolutionary and

founding father credentials are stainless. They include a badly damaged

right hand, the result of being strafed in 1948 by a Dutch plane. At the

time he was riding a bike through Yogyakarta trying to save the young

republic’s critical documents. He was treated by a Dutch doctor, and

then imprisoned in hospital.

Now almost 90 and frail, he still has a sharp mind (“age is

opportunity”), a powerful command of English, and some certainties not

eroded by time. These include his belief that the American Central

Intelligence Agency was also involved in the 1965 coup in which six

Indonesian generals were killed, precipitating the fall of Sukarno.

According to official Indonesian history, the killings were the result

of a communist putsch.

Dr Roeslan claimed Sukarno had no foreknowledge of the coup. “He was

very naive though not with women. He was a politician, not a military

man. He thought he could make communism in Indonesia nationalistic and

this infuriated Russia and China”.

Although 14 years younger, Dr Roeslan was closely aligned with Sukarno

personally and politically, calling him ‘Indonesia’s George Washington’.

Despite this, Dr Roeslan survived the change of government and was sent

to New York by Suharto’s New Order government to negotiate Indonesia’s

re-entry into the United Nations.

He also grew to admire Suharto’s early reforms, but despised the later

excesses of the president’s family and friends: “He [Suharto] said there

could be no prosperity without security and stability — and in this he

was right”. Through his daughter’s biography Dr Roeslan is quoted as

describing Suharto as ‘a responsive and decent human being when free of

family greed’.

KLEPTOCRAZIES

Dr Roeslan retains an intellect nimble enough to dance around awkward

questions. So when asked about the qualities of current president

Megawati, daughter of his former colleague, he replied: “What is good,

what is bad?” Later his criticisms were hard but circumspect, preferring

the general to the specific.

“This present generation does not know what we fought for, and that is

the tragedy. There is so much waste. We are rich, but so many people

have been stealing from the nation — it is a sickness, like kleptomania.

We have become klepto-crazies. There are two and a half million

super-rich in Indonesia. They go to Singapore for their health and

shopping, not to their own country”.

Like most former politicians who have struggled with nation building, he

despises the indulgences of modern bureaucrats and their reluctance to

forego the plunder of power for the sake of the nation. He is also

miffed that his good relations with President Megawati have not led to

her following his advice on communicating more and spending less.

And for those less interested in moralising, Dr Roeslan has enough

personal anecdotes of the founding president to entertain kampong

gossips for a decade:

“He used to like to say there were two Sukarnos, but in reality there

were three. And I told him so. The first was the ideologist. He knew the

strength and weakness of the colonialists and our strengths and

weaknesses. That was good.

“The second was the politician, forming and using power, sometimes cooperating with the Japanese or the Islamists or the Nationalists. Then he would hit them. That was dangerous.

“The third was Sukarno as an individual. That was not so dangerous. He

used to say: ‘I can hate, I can love, I can be soft, I can be strong’.

“But you are making a mistake if you think his love was erotic. His love

was for beauty, in women, in the beach, in mountains and trees, in the

colours of the waves, the beauty of nature. He saw God in the smile of a

young girl, and in the suffering of people’”.

Apart from his status as a revolutionary hero who also survived a 1956

coup attempt, Dr Roeslan is a historian. His books include Seratus Hari

di Surabaya (One Hundred Days in Surabaya) a history of the 1945 battle

in the East Java capital in which he played a major role negotiating

with the invaders. The bloody clash was between nationalists and British

troops trying to liberate Allied prisoners of the Japanese and help

reinstall Dutch rule. /The Bandung Connection/ is an account of the 1955

Asia Africa Conference where 24 so-called non-aligned nations came

together in a bid to counter Western power. A collection of Dr Roeslan’s

essays was published in 1994 to commemorate his 80th birthday.

Dr Roeslan was born in a Surabayan kampong on 24 November 1914, the

son of a wealthy shopkeeper. Academically bright and an avid reader,

Roeslan married up into a priyayi (upper-class Javanese) family. He

was expelled from a teachers’ training college for political activities,

studied law, became an active nationalist and a skilled administrator.

PHAR LAP’S HEALTH

An infrequent visitor to Australia, he retains good impressions, though

corroded by recent events. Highlights include sitting alongside cab

drivers (‘I was flabbergasted!’), calling people by their forenames,

preserving the heart of a racehorse — these and other small incidents

are revived with glee. But not enough to mask his disquiet about

Australia’s perceived political shift in international alliances.

“I used to have great admiration for Australia because you are already

competing with Leiden (in Holland) in Indonesian studies”, he said.

“But this talk of pre-emptive strikes [against terrorists] is nonsense.

The lesson for Australia is not to look back to Europe and the United

States. Australia should not be a part of Europe — you should be part of

Southeast Asia.

“I should keep my mouth shut, but I tell you the most dangerous man is a

Javanese who is silent. So here’s one last message for Australia: Keep

preserving Phar Lap’s heart. I like that”.

##

TRI HARSO KARYONO

Dr Green’s cool prescription

When Tri Harso Karyono was a little lad in Yogyakarta back in the Soekarno era his Koranic teachings included this epigram: ‘Stop eating before you feel full’.

The words made a great impression and have become the foundation for his philosophy as a green architect.

“I learned that from an Islamic teacher,” he said. “It’s in line with green ideals. I’ve extended it: ‘Don’t buy if you’re not going to use’.”

Now a professor at Jakarta’s Tarumanagara University where he teaches in the School of Architecture, Dr Karyono knows he’s climbing a greasy pole in trying to get his message understood and accepted, even among his peers.

It’s not as though his views are radical, though he admits some think he’s a mite eccentric. Why would an academic in a prestigious position with high overseas qualifications still live in a kampong and use public transport?

“I want to be with ordinary people,” he said. “I don’t travel executive class when I use the trains – I go third class to hear what the passengers talk about so I can learn from them.”

His house in Tangerang has been built on green principles with cool 3.5 metre high rooms, but it’s not adorned with solar systems and wind turbines. “I don’t like to stand out from my neighbors,” he said. “I want to blend in.”

It wasn’t till he studied in Britain at the Universities of York, where he got a masters degree, and Sheffield where he earned a doctorate, that he found his opinions were not off the planet. In an environment where the past was often treasured and nature treated with respect Dr Karyono thrived.

He chose to study in the UK rather than the US because he’d been unimpressed with the arrogance of American architects and engineers.

“Britons’ respect for Shakespeare and the regular performance of his plays reminded me of my childhood in Yogya when the gamelan and wayang were once commonly heard and seen,” he said.

“I liked the public discourse on big issues, but I wasn’t so keen on the British reserve. You can be in a crowd there and still be lonely – impossible in Indonesia.”

Back in his homeland he works in a profession known for its flamboyant characters. But the designer is unassuming and treads so lightly he hardly makes an impression.

Which is exactly what he wants because his speciality is examining the way we live, asking whether the housing decisions we make are efficient or wasteful. Equally important is the question: Do we find our choices lead to comfort and happiness?

Being a scientist this means a fancy term has to be concocted – EF, or ecological footprint. It’s a measure of how well (or badly) we use the earth’s resources.

As part of his research leading to a book on sustainable architecture planned for publication late next year, Dr Karyono has been working in New Zealand with his former supervisor, Professor Robert Vale who moved from Britain to Wellington.

In Indonesia Dr Karyono has been looking at traditional homes, those built during the Dutch colonial period, and contemporary housing.

Although modern homes generate comfort through air conditioning and electric lighting, and make life easier with running water, washing machines and gas cookers the impact on the environment and the wallet can be harsh.

By contrast people living in simple homes built from materials that can be replenished like timber and bamboo that grow nearby, are being gentle with our damaged world.

But are traditional homeowners content? Surprisingly yes, according to Dr Karyono’s research into ‘thermal comfort’. He’s been interviewing people in their homes and measuring their satisfaction.

Not so happy have been those survivors of natural disasters in Aceh and Yogya occupying homes provided by overseas aid agencies. He said many houses have been built to resist earthquakes rather than create a comfortable environment, resulting in temperatures inside and out being much the same.

Although wanting to become an engineer Dr Karyono’s drawing skills led him into architecture, displacing earlier ambitions to be an artist. After graduating from Bandung Institute of Technology he worked with BPPT – the Indonesian Agency for the Assessment and Application of Technology. Here, among other jobs, he designed hospitals.

Clearly smart he was selected by his employer for higher education overseas. On his return home he moved into teaching and currently lectures at Binus, Parahyangan and Trisakti Universities along with his home campus.

Now 54 he plans early retirement next year to concentrate on promoting green architecture and sustainable living. Although his book will be about sustainable architecture in Indonesia it’s being written in English and will probably be published overseas.

“There are problems with copyright in Indonesia,” he said. “You sell one book and find a million copies have been made.

“It’s a pity that we follow so many bad things from the West instead of good things, like taking a scientific approach to planning. We can learn so much from the ordinary people and the way they live.

“However that view isn’t popular among my colleagues. They think differently from me, and their students follow them because they just want to pass.

“They know green issues must be taken into consideration, but their clients tend to be developers who are only interested in making money. Singapore and Kuala Lumpur do it better by preserving their history, which is what overseas visitors want to see – not new hotels that will never attract foreigners.

“Indonesian architecture is even worst than in the past. We just build houses to keep out the rain

“We have to be better educated. Indonesian education isn’t good. Soekarno was interested in culture and set up four arts institutes, but the Soeharto era was just about money.

“We need a president who is an architect and appreciates history. In this country the influences for change have to be top down.

“To be green we have to reduce consumption and live in a modest way – and we need a leader who does this.”

(First published in The Jakarta Post 13 December 2011)

##

“

LOOK MUM, I CAN READ IN THE DARK

Last week I realised that I don’t have to go to Singapore.

This illumination occurred in the back seat of a car travelling at night between Surabaya and Malang, via Mr Bakrie’s contribution to the environment. I certainly smelt the Lapindo mud volcano, but otherwise didn’t notice.

That’s because I was reading Hitch 22, the memoirs of the Anglo-American columnist Christopher Hitchens.

It’s a book that I probably wouldn’t have bought. Published last year it’s priced around $ US 27 (Rp 240,000) and most difficult to find in Indonesia.

I kept reading during the three-hour trip because I’d downloaded the book free from the public library in New Zealand where I’m a member onto a back-lit E-reader. Six hours time difference and 8,000 kilometers are no deterrent. The system works 24 / 7.

My wife cruelly dismisses this revolutionary marvel as ‘your toy’, inferring, I suppose, that I play with it rather than her

Play? This is education, information and work because the device also allows access to the world’s best newspapers. That’s provided I can get close enough to a fast-food shop’s WiFi system without actually having to eat its Styrofoam buns.

Indonesia has the lowest Internet penetration rate is Southeast Asia – around seven per cent. Only a fraction of that number has access to high-speed broadband, so the uptake of E-readers is still low.

Not abroad. You see the pseudo paperbacks in doctors’ waiting rooms, airport lounges, government offices and every place where the public is treated with contempt. No wonder the big bookstores overseas are literally closing their books.

I resisted for some time, seduced by the argument that an E-reader didn’t have the feel and smell of a book. There’s pleasure in savoring the design, typography and layout found in a good hardback.

All true, and when I saw an original King James Bible on tour to celebrate the 400^th anniversary of that magisterial work, I beheld an object of great beauty.

However I could hardly read the text, not because it was in Old English but because the columns were too narrow and the ink had bled into the grey paper.

.

That’s not the situation with my E-reader. I can adjust the font size and control the screen’s brightness. No need to find stained beer coasters for bookmarks. That job can be done electronically. So no need to drink.

Of course there are downsides. It’s difficult to show off your erudition with a slim slab of black plastic, when sagging shelves display your tastes and character through the books you’ve bought and supposedly read.

Try bragging about your E-reader library when the system deletes borrowed books just two weeks after downloading.

It took time to choose the toy, whoops, device that best suited my needs. I’m glad I didn’t buy the market leader. Although the price was reasonable the purchaser is locked into buying books from the US supplier that reportedly won’t accept foreign credit cards.

The key is to make sure your machine can accept books in e-pub format, the system used by the Guttenberg Project, which has thousands of out-of-copyright titles free to download and keep.

As an author I should be opposing this trend. If people don’t buy my royalty stream will be reduced to a trickle. But Indonesians treat copyright like all man-made laws – with derision. I’ve been losing money for years through photocopying, so why worry?

What’s Singapore got to do with all this? Those of us who make visa runs to the silver city justified the trip by spending hours in Borders and coming home with 20 kilos of books.

Instead I can now go to the local Immigration Office and get a visa renewal under a sign warning me not to pay bribes. I followed this splendid advice and so spent four days waiting for the magic stamp while others brought plump envelopes with their documents and were out in a flash.

But no worries. I passed the time profitably by getting through a couple of hefty novels. The wattage may be as dim as the bureaucrats, but this E-man can read anywhere. Duncan Graham.

(First published in The Sunday Post 11 December 2011)

POSH LADY TRISHA HENDERSON: EASING THE CURSE OF RUBELLA

KEEPING THE LIGHTHOUSE FLASHING

Indonesia could do with a Bill Gates.

Not to sell computer software but to expand the international immunisation programs his philanthropic foundation funds to include rubella.

Though eliminated in some countries, in Indonesia rubella (also known as German measles) is a highly contagious disease that can cause serious damage to children if mothers are infected during pregnancy.

“I’m told that 90 per cent of the deafness encountered at Surabaya’s Karya Mulia Deaf School is preventable through immunisation,” said Australian Trisha Henderson. “But the cost - US $50 (Rp 450,000) per dose is beyond the reach of poor families.”

So Ms Henderson and her colleagues on the Patricia O’Sullivan Humanitarian Project face the unhappy reality of being the first-aid team after the fight rather than the peacemakers before the punch-up. The AUD $100,000 (Rp 900 million) that her foundation spent last year to help deaf children in East Java could have been used to vaccinate only 2,000 girls.

With more than four million Indonesian children born every year the gesture would probably do more harm than good through arousing resentment from those who miss out.

Instead the money, which was given by the Western Australian government has been spent on rainproofing the Karya Mulia buildings.

It’s a pity the acronym for Ms Henderson’s foundation is POSH, hinting of lunchalot ladies with hedonistic intent. Instead it consists of educators, audiologists, speech therapists and other medicos on a serious mission.

Ms Henderson isn’t a doctor or teacher. She’s a journalist and like many in that profession knows how to hustle and who to hector. In 2000 she successfully lobbied WA Premier Colin Barnett to recognise the 20th anniversary of the Sister-State agreement with East Java by paying for the Karya Mulia repairs.

She thought carefully before taking on the leadership of POSH when her mother, Patricia O’Sullivan collapsed with a stroke five years ago.

This happened when she was in Jakarta, fortunately accompanied by her daughter. Mrs O’Sullivan was repatriated to Perth but has not fully recovered.

Ms Henderson had her own public relations business and also works as a copy editor. She’d been an observer rather than participant in her mother’s charitable work with disadvantaged and disabled children.


“I know every project needs a leader and that taking on Mum’s job of being president of POSH would be a huge commitment in terms of finance and time,” said Ms Henderson.

“I had 20 years of my mother’s files to read just to get a linear understanding of the foundation. As a non-medical person I wasn’t sure what to do. But I’m a strategist and I felt it would be wrong to let the project go – too much had been done.

“I also wanted to maintain the humanitarian work of my parents who’ve had a long involvement with Indonesia, and to honor my mother’s life of selfless giving.” (This was recognized in 1997 with an Order of Australia Medal.)

Ms Henderson’s late father, Dan O’Sullivan, was the editor in chief of West Australian Newspapers, a company that assisted with the start of The Jakarta Post in 1983. He also helped set up the Sister-State Agreement in 1990.

During his many trips to the archipelago he was often accompanied by his wife, an early childhood educator. While in Surabaya during the late 1980s she asked to see a school and was taken to Karya Mulia. The name means ‘noble endeavor’.

Here she met the school’s founder Sri Rahajeng, wife of Professor Mohammed Haryono Sudigdimarto, an obstetrician and academic who started Bina Anaprasa (the development of village pre-schools) based on a system seen in Japan.

The impressive couple’s concerns and interests matched those of Mrs O’Sullivan. POSH was born in 1990 as a non-profit organisation and a partnership formed. This saw Karya Mulia boosted through donations of equipment and the establishment of training programs, many funded by Rotary clubs.

Ms Henderson has just returned to Perth after leading a team from POSH to Surabaya to see how best to continue the foundation’s activities. The group included Dr Helen Goulios, the clinical coordinator of audiology at the University of WA. She has been assessing the needs of East Java children with disabilities and checking available services.

“The Indonesian government estimates there are probably 650,000 disabled children in the Republic, but the number is probably higher because many parents keep their handicapped infants out of sight,” she said.

“Only 20 per cent of the 250 children at Karya Mulia have hearing aids and many parents can’t even afford the cost of batteries.

“If deafness is picked during the ‘golden period’ (before babies are six months old) they have a greater chance of living in a normal environment. Indonesian children have a right to early detection, intervention and follow-up.

“We plan to bring 17 Indonesian teachers to Perth next year and a couple of doctors to train as audiologists because there aren’t any in East Java. There’s only one speech therapy and audiology clinic, and it’s private.”

East Java Social Services will pay accommodation costs for Indonesians who go to Perth for training.

POSH is working with East Java’s Tim Pengembangan dan Manajemen Anak Berkebutuhan Khusus (Development and Management Team for Children with Special Needs). They are building childhood development centers in Sidoarjo, Gresik and Surabaya where parents can take their kids to be checked by Australian-trained teacher therapists.

“It’s all about developing self sufficiency,” said Ms Henderson. The long-term aim is to build a speech therapy and audiology school in Indonesia.

“We’re looking at Karya Mulia running a printing business. These have been very successful in WA where they’re supported by government departments that send them work.

“My mother came from a poor family and always felt for poor children. She knew that big differences can be made by doing many small things. She talks about ‘lighthouse projects’, beacons of best practise showing the way for others to follow.

“Indonesia is now where Australia used to be in caring for deaf children. I’m no bleeding heart – I inherited a project.

“But in WA we are blessed – we can afford to be generous. It’s our humanitarian responsibility to offer our expertise and support those who want to improve services.

“If I could wind-up POSH in ten years because we’ve achieved our goals then I’d be a happy woman.”

(First published in The Jakarta Post 6 December 2011)

SURABAYA 1945 - SACRED TERRITORY

They helped shape Indonesia: Veteran Ibdul Hamid Purna W (above) and his colleagues.

THE CITY THAT CREATED A NATION

The plot is Shakespearian. So are the characters. The flywheel of time, heavy with history and greased by blood, spins on. Old men, blind with prejudice, fumble for the invisible brake. Leaders vacillate. The young seize the moment.

There’s cowardice and bravery, butchery and vision, leadership and deceit. We, the audience, knowing the end, shout ’enough, enough’. The players are deaf. This is Arek Soeroboyo. It’s a tragedy. And a triumph.

Synopsis: It’s late 1945. The Japanese have been atomised into defeat. The Allies arrive in East Java to restore the colonialists. The tough locals resist, but the invaders win. It’s a Pyrrhic victory.

The last scene comes four years later when the stubborn Dutch finally accept the inevitable and leave. A new nation has been born.

Journalist Frank Palmos has produced a doctoral thesis Surabaya 1945 – Sacred Territory that will form the basis for a set of new histories about the Battle of Surabaya. These are expected to be published next year with schools in mind.

Palmos first came to Indonesia 50 years ago to learn the language, then returned as Australia’s youngest foreign correspondent for the Year of Living Dangerously. He interpreted Soekarno’s speeches. He was befriended by Roeslan Abdulgani who was actually in the battle. When the former diplomat died Palmos was given the freedom fighter’s personal papers.

These have become the cornerstone of his research along with scores of personal interviews with veterans. He’s also had access to the Indonesian Army’s historical accounts and has burrowed deep into the war archives, particularly in Britain.

His work won’t please all. Accounts written by lazy hacks, or produced to a political script, have been hardened by age, so acceptance of the new version may be hampered by prejudice.

The counter argument is that Palmos is not a thunder-thief, but a window-opener, exposing the words of those who were there but who haven’t been heard, cleaning out the rubbish, setting the story in its proper order. His contribution to a balanced understanding of the past deserves promotion, not rejection because he’s an outsider.

Indeed, who better to do the job? An ethical foreign journalist who knows Indonesia from the inside, is sympathetic but not partisan, and has seen war close up in Vietnam may be the best man for the job.

Palmos is particularly scornful of the work of Idrus, whose account of the war was given credibility through inclusion in US scholar Benedict Anderson’s seminal Java in a Time of Revolution.

“No authoritative Indonesian source used Idrus,” writes the iconoclast – and the italics are his. “This was a fictional reconstruction by Jakarta writer Idrus who pretended he was an eyewitness. He had never been to Surabaya”

Another writer, Louis Fischer whose The Story of Indonesia was used by incoming foreign diplomats as essential reading, recounts an Indonesian attack on the British that Palmos says never took place. Fischer also added Achmad to the president’s name to suit Western nomenclature.

Then there’s the doctoring of the famous photo of Rebel Radio’s Soetomo whose Che Guevara-style image still appears in posters.

According to the author, the fiery broadcaster did not use a weapon and rarely went into the streets. The original photo was taken under a Malang holiday hotel umbrella in 1947 then doctored with the addition of bomb blasts.

Notes Palmos dryly: “For Bung Tomo’s followers the past becomes rosier with every passing year.”

Palmos has been thorough. He’s turned every available page to build a clear picture of what happened, uncovering much unpublished material, some of it funny.

After the 17 August proclamation the radio announcer slipped the news past Japanese censors by using Madurese. Dutch speaking medical students posed as ill-educated waiters to eavesdrop dinners and bugged meetings with hidden microphones. A teenager who tried to shoot a Sikh soldier with an empty weapon was disarmed and told to go home to his mum.

Women were also prominent in the conflict, feeding the fighters and nursing the wounded. Calls for reinforcements were met by thousands flooding in from the hinterland to cook and care. I’d like to know more of their stories.

Not all was benign or glorious. The chaos was used to settle personal vendettas, slaughter civilian internees, spy on colleagues and plunder the 20,000 refugees fleeing the city every day. Some Chinese supported the pemuda – others were spies. War brings out the best and worst.

For historians there’s an uneasy relationship between academics and journalists. The latter write to be read, the former to be footnoted. Fortunately Palmos has retained his ability to tell a good yarn while maintaining the annotations.

The lead up to the start of the main conflict on 10 November was menjelang datangnya – awaiting the hurricane. An earlier three-day battle of awful brutality had ended with a cease-fire brokered by Soekarno, who’d been called in by the Allies. His action went against the advice of the local leaders who had their enemies on the run and suspected foul play.

They were right. The British used the interregnum not just to evacuate the Europeans who’d been held in Japanese concentration camps, but also to bring in thousands of well-equipped reinforcements.

Like a modern thriller, Palmos takes us, step by muffled step, through the nightmare wait for the inevitable doomed clash of untrained schoolboys against bombers, pushbikes versus tanks.

It took 99 days for the British to drive the exhausted and outgunned fighters, seriously hampered by a lack of radios, into the hills. There they continued guerrilla warfare when the Dutch returned in early1946. The pemuda never surrendered. Their kampong warfare tactics set the pattern for street fighting in Indo-China and their spirit stoked independence in India.

Could it have been avoided? Probably not. When the British cheated on the ceasefire conditions, concrete positions had set. The Allies were determined to crush the ‘terrorists’ and ‘insurgents’, grossly misreading the mood. Earlier they’d showered the city with pamphlets featuring Queen Wilhelmina and talked of Indonesians’ ‘love’ of the Dutch, then shelled Surabaya from warships.

On the other side was a city daubed with revolutionary slogans, bedecked with red and white flags, and a radio station blaring Merdeka atau mati - Freedom or death. The hardy citizens had already proved their worth by disarming the Japanese, seizing 400,000 weapons and competently taking over civil administration.

Their spirit in confronting the overbearing Dutch desperate to recover their plantations and prestige should have jolted anyone prepared to look and listen. If such sages existed they don’t feature in this book.

Palmos rightly makes much of the tension between the Revolutionary command fiddling in Jakarta and the fighting Surabaya pemuda (literally ‘youth’, but to become the word for action and attitude) – a tricky subject for local writers to handle.

Although Soekarno was heavily criticised the people stood by their President, always teetering on the cliff-edge, forever expecting to be arrested and charged as a collaborator. Among his own people he was suspect for allegedly helping the Japanese recruit romusha (slave labor) and feared assassination.

For anyone wanting to understand why Indonesians – and particularly Surabayans - are such ferocious patriots, this book explains all. Like the French and American Revolutionaries the Arek Soeroboyo fought for a universal principle – freedom to decide their own destiny – and paid terribly with maybe 100,000 casualties and a scorched and almost empty city. Never wonder why the flag is half red.

Why haven’t local writers been more active? They were certainly restricted under the first two presidencies. Comments Palmos: “Indonesian historians are now perhaps a little indolent, certainly too modest, about their nation’s remarkable history. The world expects much more from them before time wipes clean the last traces of their glorious earlier years.” He particularly wants a higher profile for Governor Surio’s outstanding leadership and “Churchillian” speeches.

Finally Palmos raises the issue of special recognition for those who fought in Surabaya, before the army was formed. “At the time of writing (2011) there were no battle ribbons, no medals for bravery struck, and Veterans were still pushing for those who fought in the Battle.”

Maybe a foreigner’s book will spur the Government to put things right.


(First published in The Sunday Post, 4 December 2011)

TRASHING THE LOMBOK TREATY

The Indonesian military would be determined defenders but at present don't have the appetite or capacity to be invaders.

MARINES IN DARWIN: PROTECTION OR PROVOCATION?

In 2006 the two relevant Foreign Ministers, Alexander Downer and Hassan Wirajuda, signed the Australia-Indonesia Agreement on the Framework for Security Cooperation.

It took two years of negotiations to develop the document, which replaced the 1995 formal defense pact. What’s now known as the Lombok Treaty committed both nations to cooperation and consultation in defence and law enforcement, combating international crime and terrorism, and sharing intelligence.

The two countries also agreed they would not ‘in any manner support or participate in activities by any person or entity which constitutes a threat to the stability, sovereignty or territorial integrity of the other Party’.

Then suddenly last week Australian Prime Minister Julia Gillard and US President Barack Obama announced that up to 2,500 American Marines would be stationed in Darwin, the largest port in Australia closest to Indonesia. This newspaper described the news as a ‘bombshell’.

Indonesia’s Foreign Minister Marty Natalegawa had apparently been alerted ahead of the announcement. Did this comply with the Lombok Treaty clause on ‘consultation’? Only if you embrace Australian newspeak where the word has become synonymous with informing others after a cast-iron decision has been made.

That wasn’t the only gulf in interpretation. It seems Australia’s decision to allow heavily armed foreign forces to dig in on the border doesn’t fall into the category of threatening the other's ‘stability, sovereignty or territorial integrity’.

Indonesia appears to differ. Dr Natalegawa, who was educated in the UK and Australia and is no slouch in understanding the subtleties of English, was reported as saying it could create “a vicious circle of tension and mistrust”. In plainspeak this is instability. The Treaty was designed to do the opposite.

Establishing a US base in northern Australia is meant to send a message to India and China, the two growing super-powers. But between those faraway places and the Great South Land lies a lovely archipelago, the world’s third largest democracy. This strategic zone will now have American warships, warplanes, submarines and helicopter gunships on a nearby beach – and Indonesians weren’t asked what they thought.

Perception depends on position. Living a few hundred kilometers northwest of Darwin I have a different view of plans to turn the Northern Territory into an armed camp than when I lived in Perth.

If I was still in my home state (and earlier state of ignorance about Southeast Asia) I might have thought the idea of beefy American soldiers between little me and the land-hungry masses of Asia to be comforting.

Most Australians know about their nation’s empty interior and over-populated neighbours. We’ve grown up fearing the menacing arrows of descending communism believing that only the gallant forces of the Free World could stop the evil Red Tide, just as they halted the Japanese in the 1940s.

But then we matured and it seemed that the gravity theory driving Australian foreign policy had been buried. Wrong. Last week it was exhumed and revived.

It’s been embarrassing trying to explain to Indonesians why a sovereign nation would allow foreign troops to be based on its soil, unless, of course, the host is weak, insecure and subservient to a colonial master.

That’s the obvious logic, and no end of rabbiting on about independent alliances and historical ties will shake local opinion. My friends are just a mite confused – why the US military and not the UK when Australia has the Union Jack on its flag and the Queen’s head on its currency?

It would be easier trying to explain cricket.

The Indonesian media response has been robust with commentators asking how the deal sits alongside the regular pleas for Australians to develop friendly grassroots relationships with the people next door. There’s been much talk of a new Pearl Harbor.

How would Australians react if Indonesia suddenly announced a similar number of Chinese troops being stationed in Bali? Would Canberra accept the “normal bilateral agreement” line? If our Javanese neighbors in suburban Malang invite Ambonese hardmen (the preman usually used for ‘protection’) to settle in and flex their muscles my family would be rapidly reappraising our community relationships.

Does Indonesia have territorial ambitions on Australia? It’s about as impossible to erase this deeply-embedded but absurd fear in the Australian psyche, as it is to convince the electorate that the US will not necessarily dash into the fray should the continent be attacked.

The Indonesian armed forces would be formidable defenders of their land, but don’t appear to have the equipment, funds, or enthusiasm to invade 7.69 million square kilometers. There’s no discernable political appetite for such an insane adventure. Terrorists occasionally add Australia in their visions of a Caliphate but these crackpots are on the fringe of the fringe.

The last test of US resolve in this region came during the 1999 East Timor Referendum crisis when Australia appealed for American involvement. Then president Bill Clinton manoeuvred a few warships but kept them over the horizon. The tension with Indonesia was an Australian problem, and no grunts’ boots were among the international peacekeepers that trod the turf of what is now Timor Leste.

The realpolitik is that future US policy will be based on that nation’s national interests at the time and having a US Marine base in Australia will make not a whit of difference. If Washington decrees these troops will be deployed elsewhere or sent back to their northern hemisphere home, Canberra’s agreements with the US will have no more value than the Lombok Treaty.

In the meantime we Australians have to remain in this region for the rest of our existence. Better Ms Gillard puts her government’s energies into encouraging us to understand and appreciate our neighbours than being matey with the Marines.

If we really must have a US presence, then invite the Peace Corps.

(First published in The Jakarta Post 23 Nov 2011
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NENGAH LATRA - TESTED BY FIRE, NOT FOUND WANTING

It was an evening I Nengah Latra can never forget – 3 March 1986. The 19-year old Balinese farmer’s son who had his heart set on a career in the army was taking part in a cremation ceremony.

A kerosene lantern wasn’t working properly. He opened the glass and tried to adjust the wick. Tihe lamp exploded, showering him with burning fuel.

After 42 days in the Karangase hospital Latra was sent home to his village in East Bali, only partly healed. His blistered wrist was fused to his upper arm. His fingers on one hand were webbed, like a duck’s foot, his flesh appallingly mutilated. He was tortured by pain – and bitterness.

“I was angry with God, my family, everyone,” he said. “My hopes of joining the military and breaking free from poverty were gone. I thought it was the end of my life. I was ashamed. For two years I hid, avoiding contact.”

But that’s impossible in Indonesia, particularly in a small, dirt-poor farming community. Agus Safyi, a one-legged field worker from a Yogya rehabilitation centre found the physically and emotionally twisted man and suggested he go west for training.

Latra resisted for several months. “In my village Java was another country, far away. Even if I’d flown to the US people would still say I’d gone to Java and would probably never return. There had been cases of Javanese collecting Balinese cripples promising work, but using them to beg.

“It took months before I persuaded myself that it was not a trick, and much longer to get my family to let me go. Yet my real motive was to hide somewhere else, to disappear.

“Eventually I went and it was the turning point in my life. I met these extraordinary people who were in a far worse situation, yet they were happy and productive. I realized I’d been wasting my time on self pity.”

In Yogya he was trained in radio repairs and did so well the center’s founder, New Zealander Colin McLennan, arranged for Latra to have plastic surgery.

The operation was a success and he could now use both arms and hands. The anger started to ebb. But back home he found his new abilities difficult to use. In a village without mains power few appliances needed fixing.

He returned to Yogya and after working as a cleaner learned more skills, including English and management. Eventually he joined the rehabilitation centre staff. On regular trips to Bali he searched for other disabled people who could benefit from training.

Many were victims of the polio epidemic that swept Indonesia in the 1970s. Others were congenitally crippled or had been injured in accidents. All hid their anguish from the stares of neighbors, silently seething, compounding the agony.

Their misery was twisted further by diehard cultural beliefs. Surely the families had badly sinned to be so terribly afflicted? This was their fate, and nothing could be done.

“Government statistics claimed only three per cent to the population was disabled,” said Latra, “yet I knew the real figure was much higher, with even more in Nusa Tenggara. There was a need for a rehabilitation centre in Bali, but no money.”

He put together a proposal and sent it to the British Embassy. Within two weeks the sum sought, Rp 75 million (US$ 8,000) had been granted. The governor of Bali gave a building originally set up for the handicapped, but left empty because there was no operating budget.

The large foreign community in Bali stepped in with resources and the center was a success. Then came the Bali bomb in October 2002. Most non-Indonesians fled the island.

“Our organization was unconscious,” said Latra. “I prayed to God: ‘Should I give up and close? Run away, do something new?’” But one outsider did stay in Bali, Kiwi tour operator Jan Mantjika. She helped found a support group.

“The NZ Embassy endorsed Latra and I was impressed with his enthusiasm and integrity,” said Mrs Mantjika. “He understood Balinese culture. He knew what the disabled were thinking and how difficult it was to become an acceptable member of the community. But he was doing everything himself.”

Among the 202 people killed in the first Bali bomb was an Englishwoman, Annika Linden. Her grieving fiancé, finance trader Mark Weingard set up a foundation to help bomb victims and also supported Latra’s enterprise.

The philosophy behind the Annika Linden Foundation (ALF) is that ‘positive action is the only way to counter the negative impact of this event’.

To commemorate the 10th anniversary of the tragedy next October the ALF will open a building in the Denpasar suburb of Tohpati to house four charities supporting the disabled.

Latra’s enterprise, now named Puspadibali (Bali Foundation for empowering people with disabilities) has so far helped rehabilitate, make and fit prosthetics for more than 1,140 people. It will be housed in the one-stop shop for the disabled, integrating services.

The present workshop will be used to repair and store wheelchairs

It all sounds good and grand, but Latra looks forward to the day when there’s no need for overseas-funded charities and altruistic foreigners to help the disabled. That’s because the government will fulfil its constitutional responsibilities to care for all citizens, and the handicapped will be accepted into society.

The Indonesian Parliament ratified the UN Convention on the rights of Persons with Disabilities last month (Oct) four years after signing the document.

Latra and his colleagues, including volunteers from Australia, hope this means action will follow, sidewalks will be made safe for wheelchairs, access to buildings will be up ramps, toilets will have grab rails and employers will recruit the competent disfigured.

In a society where staff selection is often based on youth and good looks, this climb over the barriers will be near vertical.

“That’s my dream, but it will take a long time, maybe a generation,” Latra said. “There are so many things that need to change. We often find people who cannot be trained because they haven’t been to school, so we first have to teach them to read and write.
“Ten years ago charities’ reputation depended on what they were doing for the people – now the issue is what they’re doing with the community.”

Latra no longer wears long-sleeved shirts and doesn’t keep his hands in his pockets. Curiously this means his livid scars are barely noticed. The man’s personality and unflagging advocacy dominates, pushing aside any disability. He’s married and has four children.

Does he ever think that if he hadn’t been burned he would have joined the army and might now be an officer?

“Perhaps, and I might have been killed,” he said.

(First published in The Jakarta Post 14 Nov 2011)

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