gestapu harry aveling

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GESTAPU:Indonesian Short Storieson the Abortive Communist Coupof 30th September 1965

Edited and TranslatedbyHarry Aveling

Southeast Asian Studies Working Paper No.6Reproduced by the Southeast Asian Studies ProgramUniversity of Hawai'i1975


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CONTENTS

In troduc tion i

Kipandjikusmin: "Cain's Lamb" 112Usamah: "War and Humanity"

Mohammad Sjoekoer: "Death" 23Kipandjikusmin: "Star of Death" 27Satyagraha Hoerip: "The Climax" 36H. G. Ugati: "The Threat" 51Gerson Poyk: "A Woman and her Children" . 58Zulidahlan: "The Valley of the Shadow of Death" 77Martin Aleida: "Dark Night"Sosiawan Nugroho: "A Minor Conflict" 97

83

108The Authors


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INTRODUCTION

As Richard Hoggart ha s written: "Literature . . is a bearer ofth e meanings within a culture. I t helps to recreate what i t fe l t l iketo believe those things, to assume that experience carried and de-manded those kinds of value. I t dramatizes how i t feels on the pulsesto l ive out those kinds of value and, in part icular , what stresses

1and tensions come from that l iving ou t " . The ten short stories col-lected and translated here deal with one of the nmjor events in con-temporary Indonesian history: Gestapu, the abortive coup of the 30thSeptember 1965 and i t s aftermath, the destruction of the Communist

2Party of Indonesia, the Partai Komunis Indonesia, or PKI.The exact pattern of what happened and for what leasons is

confused and, in many places, contradictory. The ~ e s c r i p t i o n belowis intended merely to give a sett ing for the stories to those whoare unfamiliar with the background. Scholars of poli t ics and sociologywil l , I hope, find nuances in th e stories themselves which will add totheir already detailed understanding of "the abortive Corrmunist coup."

One hour and ten minutes into his speech to th z Association ofIndonesian Technicians, President Sukarno, Great Leader of theRevolution, faltered and le f t the rostrum. Fears that th e Presidentwas seriously i l l were allayed when he returned and completed thespeech. He finished with the story of Arjuna, hero of the wayangshadow theatre:

How could he ki l l his own brothers?How could he ki l l his own friends?How could he ki l l his own teachers?


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How could he ki l l his own brother, Suryoputro, whowas given birth to by th e same mother as he?

Arjuna fe l t weak. Krishna reminded him: Arjuna,Arjuna. Arjuna, you are a warrior. The duty of a warrioris to f ight. The duty of a warrior is to wage war, wheni t is called for. I t is the duty of a warrior to safe-guard, defend his country. This is the task of a warrior.I t is true, they are your brothers on the other side.Your own teacher. They wil l destroy the s t a t ~ of Pandawa.Strike back a t them.

This is your task and your duty.Carry out your task without regard to th e conse-

3quences.

That, night s ix members of th e alleged Council of G e n ~ r a l s werekil led by members of the palace guard, the T j a k r a b , ~ r a w a , under the

4command of Lt. Col. Untung.

Three of the generals were taken alive to Halim airbase, out-side Jakarta: Major General Parman, Major General Huprapto andBrigadier General Sujoto. Three were taken there dead: BrigadierGeneral Pandjaitan, Major General Harjono and Lieutenant GeneralAchmad Yani. A seventh, General Nasution. escaped. elthough hisyoung daughter subsequently died of gun wounds. Ar eighth, MajorGeneral SUharto, was no t a t home.

At Halim, the l iving generals were killed in a particular lybrutal fashion, in the presence of members of th e c o ~ u n i s t women'sor anizat ion, Gerwani, and th e communist youth movement, Pemuda


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Rakjat. The bodies were beaten, shot an d stabbed. All six wereallegedly mutilated through the gouging out of eyes and the cutt ingoff of genital organs. One of the Gerwani who took part in what wassupposed to have happened l a te r confessed to the Djakarta DailyMail:

Small knives and razor blades were distr ibuted. I onlygot a razor blade. From afar we saw a thickset man wear-in g sleeping clothes, hands bound with red cloth and eyesalso covered with red clo th . The platoon leader commandedus to beat up that person, then to cut his private parts .The f i r s t to s tar t the beating and cutting we saw to be Sand Mrs. Satro, leaders of the Tandjung Priok branch ofGerwani. Then followed other comrades ri.nally Imyself joined in the tor ture. All the hundred women did

5likewise and were witnesses

As Tarzie Vittachi has written: "Whether these stor ies are true ornot is not important. What is important is that t rue, or onlypart ial ly t rue, or false, they were believed'by millions of peopleand by the Army. This was one of the major causes of revulsion

6against the PKI. IIThe bodies were f inal ly dropped into a hole, thir ty-six meters

7deep and on e meter wide called Lubang Buaya, or the Crocodile Hole.Members of the Tjakrabirawa had captured the radio station and

the postal exchange. On th e morning of the 1st of October, andrepeatedly throughout the day, "The Movement of 30th September"broadcast i t s communique "exp l a ining la tes t developments taking placein the country. The statement said that on Thursday, September 30 ,


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1965, a military movement among the Army took place in Jakarta, thecapital of th e Republic of Indonesia, which was aided by other unitsof th e other branches of the Armed Forces." An "Indonesian Revolut ionary Council" was also announced, under th e leadership of Untung,l a t e r in th e day. Sukarno, although announced as being "safe under(our) protection" was not a member of the Council, nor was D. N.

BAidit , Chairman of the PKI.The editorial of the PKI daily Harian Rakjet, written on the

1st of October, for the next day, described th e Movement's actionsas "patr iot ic and revolutionary," and condemned th e Council ofGenerals for plotting a "counter-revolutionary" coup. The eventwas, however, described as "an internal Army affai r ." In the opinionof Arnold Brackman: liThe edi tor ia l signed th e Comr.1Unist Party s

9death warrant. I ISukarno had been awakened in the early hours of the 1st , and

told of the shootings and the disturbances in Jakarta during th enight. Hearing of troops near the Presidential Palace, he turnedaway and went f i r s t to the house of his fourth wife, then to Halim.There he met Air Vice-Marshal Omar, who was in comnand of the AirForce, Aidit , Colonel Latief and Geperal Supardjo. Supardjo reportedto Sukarno what had happened during the night, and Sukarno wasreported (by Dhani) to have patted him on th e back ~ p p r o v i n g l y andsaid: "Good. Very good Now . . I do not want any more bloodshed." (Supardjo himself claimed tha t the President was congratulat ing him for promising that he would prevent f u r ~ h e r bloodshed, a

10ra ther different matter. ) By being a t Halim, Sukarno had, as i twere, chosen sides.


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Suharto and Nasution a t Army Headquarters toole quiet anddecisive action against the plot ters. The troops gathered a t keypoints in Jakarta - the 454th Battalion from Central Java and th e530th Battalion from East Java - were contacted a,1d informed of"the correct si tua t ion." The radio stat ion was quickly recaptured.By evening the rebel l ious bat tal ions had surrendered. The ci ty wasin Suharto's hands. Sukarno, who had negotiated w ~ t h various ad visers and pol i t ical and military leaders (although not with Untungor Aidi t ) , had not come out clear ly in favor of th e Coup. At teno'clock that night, he l e f t for the palace a t Bogur. Aidit hadcommandeered an Air Force plane and flown to Yogyakarta, "where he

11successfully attempted to prevent any large scale PKI uprising. 1IDhani had l e f t for East Java. By dawn of the 2nd vf October Suharto'stroops had occupied Halim.

Almost simultaneously with the establishment of Untung'sRevolutionary Council, a revolutionary council was announced in

12Solo by Utomo Ramelan, mayor of Solo and a p r o m i n e ~ t PKI member.Central and East Java were the heartland of the communist movement.I t was in Madiun, East Java, in 1948 that th e communist movement had choto attack the young republic with t ragic consequencp.s: fl a bi t te r ,

13bloody civi l war between orthodox Muslims and syncreticis t Javanese,"14the santr i and th e abangan. Those who were partisans on the lef t

"struck with extraordinary viciousness in the town .. and across thecountryside against influential Muslim orthodox persons, especiallyreligious teachers and the i r students. Orthodox groups struck. back,not simply a t Communist partisans but also a t anyone believed to bea Communist collaborator or sympathizer. This o f t ~ n turned out to be

15any strongly non-orthodox person."


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To many people, the 30th September 1965 was Madiun come again.The PKI had been agitating since 1963 for implementation of new land-reform laws. Sustained attempts had been made during 1964 and 1965to mobilize peasant and share-crop farmers to claim their rights ina ser ies of "unilateral declarations" (aksi sefihak). Much of Centra1 and East Java is extremely poor. The South Coast areas cannot, in general, supply their own r ice needs. There was much herefor rural discontent to feed on . Further, with a decline in communalland ownership and an increase in landlessness and economic dif fer-entiation, there was also severe social dislocation, which part icu1arly affected th e youth, many of whom had been uprooted from

16Village l i fe but not f i t ted to find employment outside. Finallyi t must be noted that th e re la t ive ly larger landholdIngs, particular lyin East Java, are often owned by kyai or Muslim r , ~ 1 i g i o u s scholars .The campaigns of 1964 and 1965 seemed to many an attack on sant r i

17property. The land campaign had also been strong in B a ~ i , where"confrontation between (the Nationalis t Party and the CommunistParty) was so tense that armed clashes had become a frequent

18occurence," and in North Sumatra.For nearly a week after the beginning of Octvber there was

hard, i f intermit tent fighting around Yogyakarta and Solo, asPemuda Rakyat and some mutinous Diponegoro battalion (Central Java)forces assembled in th e Merapi-Merbabu area for guerri1a res is tance.Insurgents brief ly seized control in Semarang and there were alsoclashes here. Two battalions of Army Para-CommanJos, RPKAD, weresent to Central Java by Suharto to reasser t Jakarta 's control overthose who were in favor of th e Movement. Aidit was captured nearSolo a t the end of November ,1I1t1 Hhol . By the end I)f December the


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"Red Berets" were withdrawn from central Java. The minimal res is -tance had been crushed.

With the Army's atti tude to th e PKI clearly established, theanti-communist ini t iat ive passed to civil ian groups, part icularlyto santri-youth, who IIbrought to their work th e entbusiasm of aholy war."l9 Mass killings took place in Sumatra, largely in Acheh,and in Central and East Java-in both of these are2S, santri youthswere the chief civil ian participants-and in Hindu bali , where th e leading figures were members of the PNI, Indonesian Nationalist Party.20

21Estimates of the numbers kil led have varied from 7 8 , ~ 0 0 to one million.Occasional resistance, such as in the Klaten-Boyolali area, central

22Java, only whipped the counter-terrorists to g r e a t ~ r fury.At the beginning of 1965, the PKI claimed membership of more

than three million members. To quote Aidit ' s figures, i t had also ayouth organization, Pemuda Rakjat, of five million members; a federationof trade unions, Sobsi, of three and a half million; a peasant organization, the BTl, of nine million; a woman's o r g a n i z a ~ i o n , Gerwani, ofthree mi,llion; a cultural organization of half a million; and a minorstudent movement, CGMI, of more than 70,000 members. 23 Because theparty had been legal, and membership easy, the lack of resistance asthe part:y waited for Sukarno to help it ride out th e storm led to whatJ. D. Legge has described as "in any assessment . cne of the bloodiestmassacres in human history. "24 But many people said, "They would havedone i t to us, i f we hadn't have got in f i rs t . "

The final resignation of Sukarno, the restructuring of the partysystem and national policy, and the succession of Suharto of thePresidentship a l l la y outside th e range of these stod.es.


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Many of th e stories in the pages that follow are told in the f i r s tperson, by Muslim young men. There can be no doubting the genuinenessof the personal anguish fe l t at the necessity to k i l l other humanbeings, despite the certitude that such things were necessary. Thereis a deep compassion for the widows and children, and a concern forthe bitterness that they may eventually feel and the possible socialconsequences. Death is the dominant note; in many places the storiesare grim, brutal , even sadis t ic . Underneath. however. is a deep human-i tar ianism. To read these stories is to understand a l i t t l e better theagony that was Indonesia's in 1965.

Harry Aveling,Penang, 17 May 1974.


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FOOTNOTES1. "Contemporary Cultural Studies: An Approach to the Study ofLiterature and Society", in (ed.) M. Bradbury and D. Palmer:Contemporary Criticism (Stratford-upon-Avon Studies 12. EdwardArnold, London 1970), p. 162.2. "The press did not dare to report these events in deta i l for

fear that they might affect public feelings." Sillar Harapan. 3rdFebruary 1966 (quoted in A. Brackman: The C o m m u ~ i s t Collapse inIndonesia, Donald Moore for Asia Pacific Press, Singapore 1970.p. 125). The stories here were published in the two l i terarymagazines. Horison and Sastra. In Horison: Satyagraha Hoerip."Pada Titik Kulminasi", September 1966; Gerson Poyk. "Perempuandan Anak-anaknya", November 1966; Zulidah1an, "Maka Sempurnalahpenderitaan saya di muka bumi", March 1967; Sosiawan Nugroho,"Sebuah perjoangan ked l " , October 1967; Usamah. "Perang, danmanusia", August 1969; Martin Aleida, "Malam ke1abu", February 1970.In Sast:ra: Kipandjikusmin, "Bintang maut ll , November 1967. and"Domba kain", May 1968; H. G. Ugati, "Ancaman", JuJ.y 1969;Mohammac Sjoekoer, "Maut'\ October 1969. Two further storiesare not included here: Umar Kayam, "Bawuk", Horisrm, January 1970,and "Musim gugugur kembali di Connecticut", Octo:'>er 1969, butare translated in my Indonesian Short Stories, f ~ r t h c o m i n g fromHeinemann Educational Books (Asia), Hong Kong. A further storyby Kay am, "Kimono Biru Buat Is ter i" , Horison, February 1974,and two others also on th e Coup, wil l appear in a separate volumeof translations of short stories by Umar Kayam. J ~ i s l i s t ofshort stories on the coup originally appeared in th e art ic le bySatygraha Hoerip: "Pembrontakan Gestapu/PKI da1am Gerpen-cerpenIndonesiall , Budaya Jaya. February 1972.

3. Brackman: The Communist Collapse in Indonesia, r. 11.4. On th e so-ca-led Council of Generals see Brackroau: ibid, pp. 40-42

.5. Tarzie Vittachie: The Fall of Sukarno (Andre Deutsch, London1967), p. 80. Compare John Hughes: Indonesian Upheaval (DavidMcKay Company, New York 1967), p. 44.6. The Fall of Sukarno, pp. 79-80. ( I ta l ics in original text. )7. l!4. p. 110.8. Ibid pp. 94-95.9. The Communist Collapse in Indonesia, p. 82.

10. Ibid. , p. 87.11. J . D. Legge: Sukarno, A Pol i t ical Biography (Penguin Books,Harmondsworth 1973), p. 390.12. J . M. van der Kroef: Indonesia since Sukarno (DonaJd Moore forAsia Pacific Press, Singapore 1971), p. 8.


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13. Robert R. Jay: Javanese Villagers, Social Relations in RuralModjokuto (The MIT Press, Cambridge, 1969) p. 279 (slightly altered).14. On th e distinction between socio-cultural groups in Java emphasizing Islam (the santri) or syncreticist Javanese belief (abangan),

see Clifford Geertz: The Religion of Java (Free Press, Glencoe1960), and Robert R. Jay: Religion and P o l i t i c ~ in Rural CentralJava (New Haven: Southeast Asia Studies, Yale U ~ d v e r s i t y , 1963:Cultural Report Series No. 12). On th e p o l i t i ~ a l implications ofbeing "either self-consciously santri or se lf - consciously abangan",see Herbert Feith: The Indonesian Elections of 1955 (InterimReport Series, Modern Indonesia Project, Cornell University 1957);and Robert R. Jay: Javanese Villagers, p. 279 - "Social intercourseand communications between villages with opposed orientations brokedown; elections and public meetings in these villages becameexcuses for pol i t ical feuding, and charges and countercharges wereexchanged among village mates at these meetings in language highlyoffensive to Javanese notions of propriety. All this was deeplydistressing to the bulk of th e vil lagers."

15. Robert R. Jay, "History and Personal E x p e r i e n c ~ : Religious andPoli t ical Conflict in Java", in (ed.) R. F. S p ~ n c e r : . Religionand Change in Contemporary Asia (University of Minnesota Press,Minneapolis, and Oxford University Press, Bombay, 1971), p. 155.16. Herbert Feith: The Indonesian Elections of 1955, p. 84.17. Donald Hindley: "Alirans and th e Fall of th e O::'d Order",Indonesia 9, April 1970, p. 32n.18. J . Elisco Rocamora: "The Partai Nasional Indonesia, 1963-65. H

Indonesia 10, October 1970, p. 163.19. Hindley: "Alirans and the Fall of the Old Order", p. 39.20. Ibid. , p. 39; J. M. van der Kroef: Indonesia since Sukarno, p. 14.21. Legge: Sukarno, A Pol i t ical Biography, p. 398: Legge gives200,00 to 250,000 as a IIwidely agreed upon" figure.22. Brackman: The Communist Collapse in Indonesia, p. 109; J . M.van der Kroef: Indonesia Since ~ u l a r n o , p. 15.23. Brackman: The Communist Collapse in Indonesia, p. 29, fromHarian Rakjat, 20th August 1965. On the various organizationsaff i l ia ted to th e PKI, see Donald Hindley: The Communist Partyof Indonesia, 1951-1963 (University of Califorr.ia Press, Berkeleyand Los Angeles 1966), Part Four.24. Sukarno, A Poli t ica l Biography, p. 99.


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CAIN'S LAMB

by Kipandjikusmin.

Kama shot himself through the head and died. Petrus the regent,on th e other hand, was not seriously wounded and had time to thinkwhile he was in th e hospital .

How easily, willingly, we sacrifice others - and ourselves for nothing.

There is a story in th e Old Testament. Cain, Adam's evi l son,sacrificed a lamb. He slaughtered i t , divided and burned i t . Fornothing. God hated Cain's evi l and would have nothing to do with hisoffering.

We, the children of Cain, do as our ancestors did. Kama wasno bet ter than Cain's lamb. Human hands had robbed hIm of his simplicityhis beliefs, his reasons for living and his future.

No wonder he didn' t want to l ive. No wonder he le t l i fe go soeasily. I t was so sad and fut i le . Cain's lamb.

Almost three weeks ago Karno had risen too late to hear theharbor sirens blare thei r welcome. The word spread from mouth tomouth: "The Kartika and the Mengkara have dropped anchor in Singapore."

Everyone in the small Buginese vi l lage where Kamo had hiddenthe last Seven months knew.

The English patrol boats had recently begun to be, careless.In Singapore people were bored with "Confrontation" and dismissed i tas "a paper t iger ." As he walked along the beach K ~ r n o was stunned tosee the Indonesian flag flying proudly on the two wr.ite ships.

"Confrontation is over, my son," Daeng Sambara called from his


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front door."Over? Just l ike that? Was a l l this suffering for nothing?t1Without a word Kamo went and threw himself cn the bed. Then

he stood and looked at his face in the mirror. He ran his hand overth e white scar t issue and smashed the mirror to the ground. Daengwatched, with the reserve proper to an old man.

Poor Kamo. His regiment had taken off their commando badgesand been parachuted into Sarawak a year ago under the insignificantt i t le of guerri l la.

The Indonesian government had decided to help the PGRS (SarawakPeople's Liberation Army) - an unprincipled, ambitious group of Chinesecommunists - to destroy Malaysia. After many days of hunger in thethick jungle they finally made contact with the enemy they had searchedso laboriously for: the British Raiders. He c o u l d ~ ' t remember howi t had begun because he panicked when the napalm fel l on their ambush.He had been separated fram the others by the burning forest. Whenhe recovered consciousness almost his entire body was covered withburns. The pain seemed to sear through to the marrow of his bones.Eventually he learned that he was in a prison camp north of Kuching.

The slaughter began. Gurkha soldiers, c h i l d r ~ n of Cain. sacrificed the diseased animals to God. Their god was the sadistic delightof torturing those who could not help themselves. For some reasonKarno stubbornly insisted that he was not a member the IndonesianArmy. Despite his weakened condition, his l ies allowed them to be morevicious. They tied his feet together and l i f ted him Lito the air froma helicopter. Further acts of cruelty were p o s t p o n ( ~ d to tomorrow ashe saw healthier friends disembowelled through anus.

Suddenly he heard that a cease-fire had been proclaimed. The


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camp changed completely. The Gurkhas were now the friendliest men inthe world. The forced labor on the emergency landing strip stopped.No one shouted at him anymore. I t was just a matter of waiting unt i lpeace was announced. The Chinese communists tried to sabotage thewhole thing. Because Kamo was completely paralyzed, they sent him toa psychiatric hospital in Singapore. Careful nursing restored him tohealth but he s t i l l hated the vicious nekolim, neo-colonialist imperialis ts , for themselves.

The cease-fire was cancelled. On the night before he was toreturn to Sarawakt.he strangled the guard and swam determinedly awayfrom the beach behind the hospital .

The current carried him south and in his delight at being freehe ignored th e rough waves and the cold wind. He s ~ a m without evenknowing which direction he was heading for, determined to drown ratherthan be recaptured.

As dawn came, his half-conscious body was l i f ted onto a prau.He could smell f ish. The hurricane lamp was extinguished. Buginesevoices and the sound of the waves played dully on his senses.

The coral island surrounded by mangrove trees was a world a llof i ts own. Five fisher families and a number of smugglers lived inhouses on the beach. In the distance one could see Singapore. Theirancestors had lived on the island for at least three centuries butthey were s t i l l Indonesian.

The English patrols never found anyone. The saj.lors were usedto running away and hiding. Kamo was not the f i rse guerri l la thatthey had helped.

Even when. he was most in pain there were hands to help him. He


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Ihad dived twenty meters down fr9m the hospital: his head often hurtand he regularly wanted to vomit. Pain made him weak and awkward. Hewas impotent. His general coordination was poor and his mind was sonumb that he laughed at himself.

Yet he accepted his betterness willingly. I t was for something."No sacrif ice is ever wasted," General Yani had once said, somewhere.

Daeng Sambara began to teach him about God. He prayed and learnedto reci te the Koran. But once the mirror was smashed he began to change.His paralysis vanished and he became more sol i tary , although unawareof his surroundings.

Confrontation had not ended as i t should have. The Great Leader'svow that he would land twenty-one million volunteers in Malaysia wasobscene nonsense.

"You look sad, my son," Daeng said as Kamo stared at the red andwhite flag flying on the Mengkara.

''You know how disappointed I am s i r . "" I t was God's wil l . Surrender to Him. I I"I can't understand why God wants i t this way. My face is ruined.

I'm impotent. I can't think. I ' l l probably die soon. All for n o t h i n 8 ~ " Kamo spat on the sand.

" I t wasn't wasted.' God opened our eyes.""What do you mean?tt"Re wanted to stop us bowing down to stupidity. Confrontation

was stupid. The nation is poor. We're in debt. The masses are starving.Every bullet we f ired came from America or Russia. Is that how weprepare to win a war?" The old man stopped and gazed into the distance."The generals promised bombs. The only weapons they had were empty words."


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"Was my suffering empty words?1t"You were victim of the nonsense and stupidity that we worshiped

for so long."Kamo listened respectfully and was somewhat consoled.

1t"The stupidity is over, my son. Daeng lef t Kama to himself andKamo wondered what he would do. He could stay on the island butthat would be dangerous for the res t of them. He was a murderer. Hedecided to return to Headquarters, Jakarta.

Daeng Sambara and the captain of the Mengkare were old friends.Ten years ago the captain had been in th e coast guard. Daeng's smugglingalvays seemed to escape his attention. Because he was busy looking af terthe idiotic requests of his rich passengers, he readily granted theold man's request.

Daeng fe l t strange when Kama le f t . Life was too hard for theold man to be moved by something as simple as another man's going,yet Kamo reminded him of himself. Twenty-five years ago he hadkilled a Dutch officer in a fight on a KPM vessel. After seven daysin the brig, the boat had been bombed by th e Japanese and he had reachedRiau. He stayed there six months then made his way to Singapore. LikeKarno he promised to return. He never did, nor did he expect Kama to.

Three days la ter the Mengkara sai led into the tranquil Koja Canalleading to Tanjung Priok harbor, Jakarta.

As the ,customs officers snapped orders and begged for goods fromSingapore Karno slipped ashore. At Ular market near th e whorehousesof Koja he sold the watch Daeng had given him for ten one-hundredrupiah bi l ls , the f i rs t he had ever seen. At the J ~ k a r t a bypass hecaught a bus in the direction of his barracks.


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When he reached Ch. i t was dark. That c o n f u ~ , e d him a l i t t l e .The barracks had scarcely changed except that roads were asphaltedand there were bright neon l ights . He heard someone coming and hid.I t was a pregnant woman, Sgt. Major Karim's wife.

"She's well dressed. Just been shopping, I 'd say," he decided.Suddenly he wondered why he was hiding. Was i t b e c a u ~ e of his face?He laughed at his own foolishness. When the womans shadow had gone,he stood and walked toward the bachelor quarters (Room B-37), wherehe had l e f t his things.

As he passed house af ter house he quickened his step. Hd couldhear the voices of women, children and babies from the married quarters,and a radIo in the last house. Tomorrow was Heroes' Day. The day wasbeing celebrated with due solemnity.

There was no one at the bachelor quarters. Before the young menhad disregarded the vigil . He sat in a chair in the lounge, the samechair he had sat in to talk or play chess with friecds. There was some-one else 's name on his door. A private. The name was unfamiliar.

Looking through the window he could see a photograph of aman with his hands on his hips standing over a squetting communistoff ic ia l , who was begging for his l i fe . To the Light of the clothescupboard Kamo was amazed to see a Vespa scooter. Suddenly he sawhis face in the window and turned and walked towards the parade ground,to the marble monument which bore the names of those members of theregiment who had fallen in batt le . He found his own name and shivered."12 Dec. 1964. Cpl. Soekarno, lost in Sarawak. Declared dead on theevidence of the records of Operation Sky Hawk, IV S1uadron, R.A.F."

He sat dazed, as though he had just woken from a dream. As hestood the questions crowded back into his head. What should he do?


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The report was wrong. Should he plead he was s t i l l alive? That woulddestroy the last remnants of his pride in being a commando. No matterhow battered that pride was, he wanted to retain I t .

So, as far as his family and friends were concerned, he was ahero. I f they knew he was s t i l l alive tha t admiration would change topity, or even to mockery. He was a l iving memory of the sacrif icesdemanded Confrontation. A victim of stupidi ty Rnd idle chatter , asDaeng had said.

Three days la ter . Major Suyatman was talking to Piet Sujono, lawyerand regent, in the military command office in P. Piet was protestingthat army brutal i ty was leading to ordinary cit izens being regarded ascommunists. The off icer was patiently explaining taat i t was under-standable that his men were a l i t t l e "enthusiastic. I Next to the majorsat his new Chief of Staff , Lt. Bustomi, and his pretty secretary, Tiwi,recording th e discussion. Suddenly Kama burst in, waving a tommy gun.

They stood. The room fi l led with the stink of alcohol and thepresence of death.

"Where's the Commander?U Kamo snapped. His ~ g g r e s s i v e att i tudesilenced Bustomi.

Staring fiercely at Suyatman Kamo shouted: "Is i t you? Didyou le t those bastards ki l l my family?"

''Who are you? What's your regiment?" the major replied coldly."Don't ask me questions. I'll k i l l you a l l . " He pointed the

weapon at Suyatman and a malicious expression c o v e r ~ d his disfiguredface.

Tense wires coiled around their hearts. They were speechless."I'm going to finish this fool of an off icer f i rs t . The res t of


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you shut up and stay where you are!" He advanced and held his bloodycomwando's knife to the off icer ' s chest. "Tell me: How could youle t them ki l l my father and the kids? Tell met you swine! If

The regent suddenly jerked as though he had been punched. Herecognised the voice. "Karno - is i t you t my son? You couldn'thave forgotten your Uncle Peter." The old man moved forward.

"Get back! To hell with your Uncle Peter!"The old man moved back."Tell me, you devil t or I'll do you in with my knife and you'll

never say another thing." Kamo put the knife back in his bel t . " I ' l lgive you jest five minutes. I t ' s so inhuman. How could you have le ti t happen?"

The room was si lent . A gust of wind blew the ~ o ~ a n d e r ' s pencilto the floor. Bustomi looked towards the drawer whare the pistol waskept and decided that a s taff position had effected his speed and accuracyHe prayed. Suyatman was a follower of the mystic Mbah Suro. Calmlyhe waited for the drunken young man to be cowered by his inner strength.

"Why don't you say somethingt commander?" Kamo exploded."Have you been drinking, Kamo?" Piet asked s( 'ftly. "How

many bott les. We can drink together next time. A l ~ right? Go andwash. Have a sleep, then we' l l ta lk. All right1 1f

"No: I 'm not drunk. A l i t t l e tipsy perhaps." Karno turnedand his eyes momentarily dulled.

"Regent, you were a good neighbor of ours." His anxiety roseagain. "I didn' t think you'd be on the same side aF' these bastards.You're no bet ter than the res t of them. Did you hear them scream asthey died? Did i t sound pleasant?"


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Piet shook his head."I was out of town. I couldn't do a thing to stop i t . The

revolution goes on. I t demands sacrif ice."" I t ' s a cat-shi t revolution. Only a fool could talk about revolu

tion when things are this bad," Kamo shouted. Piet realised hehad said the wrong thing.

"Kamo, do you remember Wiwied, the l i t t le fat boy?" Helaughed trying to s t i r up enough of the old friendship to distractKamo. Kamo ignored him.

Bustomi t r ied to think of a way to s ta l l for time. The sentrieswere devout Muslims. Private Ahmad had taken the squad to the mosquefor Friday prayers and l e f t a civi l guardsman on duty. As he lookedat the knife he wondered whether i t would be any use screaming when Karnoattacked him.

The alcohol haze began to fade in Karno's heael, leaving aprecipitate of grief cruelly crystall izing in his heart.

' ~ o n ' t try and lead me on, Uncle. I'm not th e soldier who usedto l isten to your nonsense." He pointed at his face. "The Englishchanged me. You people are no better than they are. You a ll like tose e others suffering."

He stopped, his face a s t i f f wooden mask."I was glad to be back. I had suffered. I 'd known what it was

to be disappointed. I thought I 'd find peace. The town has beaten me.I wanted to find my family." His grief stuck in his throat. "Theywould have been glad to know I was alive, even i f I 30 look l ike this."

Suddenly he began to cry hysterically. The world seemed barren.The 'words began to pour out. "Instead I found a hell. The whole


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family dead. The house reduced to rubble. Why diG you do i t? Allright. so my father had a position in the Communist Party. Only thistown could ki l l a whole family and burn i t s house dawn as well. Andthe res t of you just stood by and watched."

Piet raised his head in sympathy."I'm not the Kamo you used to know. You'll find that out, you

murdering bastards." He swore vilely as though the devil had takencontrol of his tongue. "I waited until they a l l we;:lt to the mosque.I took one of thei r guns. I showed them." He cackled. " I t was sofunny. They screamed for mercy. Firs t they started fall ing down oneat a time. Then they a l l went, l ike beetles jumping out of a fryingpan." He smiled at the regent. I1Just like my famity. I 've got myrevenge." Obscene laughter ratt led in his dry thro.s.t.

Noticing the arrogance in Suyatman's eyes, his face darkened. Hehad been patient too long. " I t wouldn't have happened i f you'd doneyour d u t y ~ commander. You should have been more responsible."

"I am, to the best of my abi l i ty ." The officel was stung bythe insult to his rank and age. "Stop trying to show us how brave youare. I think you're a brainless coward. Come on, ehoot me. What areyou waiting for? Only a bandit menaces an unarmed man," he mocked.

Angrily Kamo took aim at him.The major waited calmly. Before Bustomi could throw himself

at Kamo, Piet shouted "Kamo!". Kamo appeared not to have heard him."For God's sake stop i t , my son!" the old man appealed. "Rememberyour Creator!"

As Kamo fired Piet ran in front of the weapon. Blood pouredthrough his fingers from his shoulders as he stood and looked sadly


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at the young ~ a n . The look changed to the sort of smile one shows anaughty child.

Kaml) was overcome with remorse. He had k i l l e ~ so many: thir tysoldiers on their way back from the mosque, the civi l guardsman at thegate. And now Piet th e regent, the man he had admiren for so many years.He wondered what they had done wrong.

The tears stuck in his throat and turned into the scream of alunatic. He ran outside and they heard shots. Only when Piet fell tothe floor under the chair did they realize what had happened.

Kebun Kosong,Heroes Day, November 1966.


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WAR AND HUMANITY

by Usamah.

Utomo Ramelan, the former mayor of Solo, was one of those whotook part in planning the aggressive actions connected with the 30thSeptember Movement. Unknown to a ll except eighteen people who had beencarefully watching him and the way he organized his forces, he movedhis offices to the court of Baluwati.

Two days after the Revolutionary Council was announced, th eCommunist Youth Corps, Pemuda Rakyat, l e f t thei r bases in Semanggi,Kampung Sewu and Mejo, and jostled through the streets of Pasar Kliwon,Gading, down to Purwosari. They acted l ike braves had just wonthe war. From time to time they shouted: "Down wi.tn the Council ofGenerals!" Although most of them were s t i l l boys, they carried Chineseguns marked "Chung" (peace) and this gave them an arrogant expression.Protected by their weapons, they launched a paper offensive.

I had organized my friends to l isten to the broadcasts fromJakarta. I t soon became clear that th e communists taken a leading role :l.n the murder of the generals. Immediately after the coup,as we talked in small groups of pol i t ical ly like-minded friends. wehad decided that what we had feared for th e las t five years had f inal lytaken place. I was frightened.

The Armed Forces would no doubt regard Solo as one of the PKIstrongholds. For five or six days we wondered whether members of theSilwangi division were being brought in quietly, because of thei rexperience in fighting communists. At f i rs t I thought they were. Butafter we h.ad provoked a few quarrels by tearing down the PR posters


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and putt ing up our own to give the other side of the story, we learnedthat the rumours were untrue. Not one bulle t was fired. The Army didnot support us. They were busy elsewhere. We b e c ~ e reckless. The PRsent two s p E ~ c i a l agents to my house. The third time they came, r metthem and thE!y asked me where Usamah was. I told them that he had gonehome to his parents in Pekalongan.

I began to suspect everyone I met and decided to move from myaunt 's house to the campus of Saraswati University. I was set ontaking an active part in crushing th e Communist Party.

A lo t of things happened very quickly. There was a fight withseveral PR boys and some soldiers from the motor pool on my way toborrow weapons from Major Sdn of the Military Police. I wrote graf f i t iimplicating Sukarno and Subandrio in the coup. The city police chief,Salopo, abused me, and I was locked in a cell behind the Wetan Pagelaranpolice stat:lon for saying that Sukarno masterminded 'he Coup. Hewas s t i l l His Excellency, Great Leader of the Revolution.

I se t up a network in the kampung where the Communist Party wasstrong. Several members of the Anti-Communist Front brought usefulinformation, which was very important when the Army Para-Commandosbegan looking for evidence to arrest people. We had the most completeintelligence service around.

II

At t h E ~ beginning of November 1965, an interrogation te


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intelligence assistant. My duties were to check the accuracy of thereports we 'were given. I t involved a lo t of work.

There were other, unpleasant aspects. One had to interrogateprisoners, for example. I had not realized before that my l i fe couldbe in danger; many of the prisoners swore si lent ly to get me one dayas well. I knew some of the prisoners and had twice to i n t e r r o g a ~ e my own friends.

I I I

Mrs. Y taught civics in a Solo High School. We had often met ata friend's house, and had even met a few days before the Coup. We wereinterested in the same sort of things, and found i t easy to talk. Shewas a member of a communist-dominated Teachers' Union. She told methat my fdend ' s family disliked him.

She was very surprised to see me at the headquar.ters of theinterrogat:lon team. All along the corridors to the office she hadchatted away. Now she was suddenly si lent . She refused to accept whatwe were doing and threatened to report us to her brother, a colonelin Jakarta. I tyOU cannot arrest me without tel l ing me why!"

"There are a lo t of reasons, Mrs. Y," I replied s t i f f ly . Shelooked me over from head to foot. "Your brother is not a colonel.know that. Don't l ie , please. He's Tjugito." !jugito was a memberof th e Central Committee of the PKI, and was later 8hown to have beenpresent at the early meetings to organize the Coup.

Her eyes were as big as a large goldfish's. She did not look atme again. Although I had not meant to be, I had been rude. She hadspoken proudly outside but I had stopped that. She was s i lent . The

I


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rest of her answers were short and pertinent. There were not manyquestions that she refused to answer, and she did not argue with me.The interrogation went smoothly. The only accusatiou she denied wasbeing at thei office of th e PKI City Connnittee when "the failure ofthe Council of Generals" had been announced. She t r ied to te l l us thatshe had been out of town for a few hours. When a g'..1ard pu t a pencilbetween her fingers and began to press her middle finger down, sheconfessed that she had been in Solo but not at the PKI office.

"Where were you?" I demanded."I SWelElr, dik Us, I was at home. I IHer f ~ l i l i a r reference scared me. The others mu&t have heard i t .

Everyone in Solo suspected everyone else, even those the interrogationteam. Several days ago, one team member had been silenced because heknew a n u m b ~ ~ r of prisoners and had used his position to help them.

Anxiously I reminded her sternly that I was not the Usamah shehad known b l ~ f o r e but she ignored me. Several of the guards weresuspicious. I was forced to order them to "torture the bitch," andlef t quickly so that she would not say my name again.

She was sent to the operating room. I was o r d ~ r e d by the comman-dant to cont.inue interrogating her while she was being softened up.I was stunned. Her skin was striped l ike a zebra. She was thinner thanbefore and her ribs stuck ou:: under her breasts like the keys of a piano.

I t ended in th e usual way. She confessed. I Ruspected that shecould take no more and distrusted the confession. Sh-a was put with theother women prisoners in the Second Camp, behind the Town Hall.


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IVMy experience with Dr. X was different. He was my aunt 's family

doctor and had attended my aunt, my cousins and even myself. I s t i l lhad to go back to his hospital for more inject ions. He greeted meby reminding me of this . He was the fr iendliest doctor I had ever known.But he was also a leading figure in the Indonesian Scholar Association,H. S.1 . , of the Chinese Baperki University, a generous donor to PKIfunds, a member of the Surakarta Revolutionary Council, and he hadsaid that "the generals deserved to diet! because they were "corrupt."His friendly smile upset my routine. I offered him a Menora cigarette.I regret that I could no longer consult him.

The evidence was clear and conclusive. There were transcripts ofhis telephorte conversations with Utomo Ramelan, which showed that thel a t te r inteIllded to murder local anti-communists. There were photocopies of le t ters and memorandums he had sent to various members ofthe PKI and the Chinese pol i t iaal organization, Baperki, in Jakarta.There was a t ranscript of his address to the Academic Community of BaperkiUniversity, and pictures of th e audience, including leading members ofthe Communist Party. I t was complete. I had only to show i t to himand ask him to sign the papers.

The team commander asked me to go over i t a l l vnce more, in caseI could find any new leads.

I t was not as easy interrogating Dr . X as i t had been with the others.The answers did not change, but his at t i tude was impossible. He deniedevery accusation, without giving any explanation. I ~ ~ s angry but foundi t hard to express my anger. I wanted to be unsentimental, but he wasthe family d.octor, he had cured my aunt 's chronic asthma, I had been


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to him and needed his care. I f he was anyone else he would have beensoftened up long ago. I was that i r r i ta ted I even wanted to do i t my-sel f . But I found i t diff icul t to play my role calmly. I suggested tomy superior that he appoint someone more scientific-minded to workon the doctor. The commander misunderstood me and s ~ n t a torturer.I watched the familiar gangland scene, without b e i D ~ able to do anythingto stop i t . He screamed for mercy as the bel t buckle rained blowsdown upon him. I suddenly wanted to vomit. Not from pity or becausetorture was unnecessary, but because I disliked watching the infl ict ionof pain. I shivered as though with malaria.

The Smersh-like unpleasantness of i t a ll upset me and mystomach started playing up again. I had to get out. I pretendedthat I wanted to piss and was sick in the washroom. I was terrif iedthat i f the doctor persisted he would have to be executed.

When I returned I learned in the corridor that the doctor hadbeen taken somewhere quieter to be tranquilized. I t was th e f i rs t timeI had heard the expression and to this day I do not really knowwhat i t means.

v

Bitter experiences such as these forced me to for a differentposition in the team. My request was granted. I was moved to theback of the Prison Administration Section a t the b ~ c k of the offices.The work seemed not too bad, although I had to suffer si lent ly inanother way and, to exaggerate, leave my conscience to self-destructas best i t could.


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The Army had been angered by Sukarno's amused defense of thecommunist women's movement, Gerwani, as "good but unimportant ll and"innocent." In his speech over Radio Indonesia he d ~ n i e d their involvement, for the most part , in what took place at Lubang Buaya. Manysoldiers believed otherwise, and his ''Mother's Day'l speech led tothe death of Sri and Mrs. Y. Poor Sri, victim of Sukarno's oratory.

VI

Sri was my classmate. She was a member of the communist studentmovement, CGMI, although I did not know this b e c a u ~ e there were noextracurricular act ivi t ies at school. I didn' t have much to do withher anyway. At twenty-four she was probably not one of the CGMIinner ci rc le . I knew her mainly for her dancing of Arimbi in tradit ionalwayang dance performances. I was amazed by th e Interrogation Team'sreport that she had been at Lubang Buaya. I had seen her before theCoup, and about ten days la ter at the university ar.niversary celebrations with her boyfriend. That was irrelevant. Sri had to die.

At f i rs t she was pushed into the Second Camp and as I had recentlytaken over, I met her there and talked to her behind the bamboo gate.She cried and asked me to te l l her boyfriend in Mertodranan whathad happened to her. Deceitfully, or hypocritically, I agreed. Hewas no longer in Mertodranan, having been captured, and was in factquite nearby, although she didn't know that . Both their positions wereserious. So as not to upset her, I t ~ l d her la ter in the afternoonthat I had met him and that he was well. I t was not an unusual thingto say, but she was suspicious and asked: "Is that al11 11 IIYes,1I Ireplied. "Thank God,n she said and moved away from tt.e fence because


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a guard was watching us. I could see from her eyes that she did notbelieve me, and I wondered whether my l ies had helped her or made hermore worried.

The next day I was on guard duty. Solo radio relayed Jakarta 'srebroadcast of Sukarno's speech. He cared nothing for what was happeningin the real world, nor for the fact that Solo was i l l an unofficialsta te of wa.r.

I can s t i l l remember how the soldiers reacted. They had probablyseen the mutilated corpses. Several of them came to the town hal lin a truck, shooting into the a ir and yelling cynically: "Long l iveBung Kama and the Gerwani! Long l ive Bung Kamo aM the Gerwani: I tI was start led by the noise and even more surprised when they crowdedinto the guard house shouting "Good night: tt My anxiety graduallydiminished when I realized that i t was the army.

They sLsked for the usual thing: a l i s t of names, informationabout th e prisoners. They had to ask me twice before I gave i tto them. Out of the A and B categories they chose v ~ r i o u s names, in-cluding Sri. As usual I went to the Firs t and Second Camps and calledthem. The prisoners seem drugged by the shots. I was even more certainthat this was war.

Some af the soldiers went with me. I had only to cal l the names,l ike a teacher calling pupils out of a classroom. I t not hard tacal l those whom I did not know. But in the Second Cump I panicked:Sri and Mrs. Y were on the l i s t . I thought of cheating the soldiers bysubstituting other women but I was scared because they were checkingthe l i s t by asking the prisoners their names. Finally I forcedmyself to cal l the two women last of a l l .


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Mrs. Y bowed and passed me in silence. Sri said in Javanese:"How could you do this , Us? You don't even know whether r'm gUilty ornot."

I fel t very weak. Her voice was very controllec. She knew wherethey were t . ~ i n g her. I said nothing. She probably thought that Iwas very cruel. Fortunately the soldiers hadn't heard her. Whatcould I say? There wasn't time: I was only a sentry doing his duty.No doubt ShE! fel t bitter . I wanted to shout out and t e l l her that Iwanted to cal l Kijem, the prost i tute , and Gerwani, instead of her. Butthe soldiers were watching me. I was scared. P e r h a ~ s they would thinkI was in cahoots with her. Perhaps I did shout but no one heard me.I didn't dare. I couldn't bear picking out my friends so they couldbe executed.

My "friends" wanted to k i l l fourteen prisoners. I t was a fai taccompli. I was surrounded by soldiers as the truckload of fourteenfuture corpses drove away. In Mojo, a village in the west of Solo,we stopped briefly. Some of the soldiers were drunk. They shoutedabuse at the women and made speeches in the Sukarno style . Theywere genuinely angry at his violat ion of their mourning. These thingshappen in war, morality had nothing to do with i t . Their shouts grewmore hysterical and reverberated throughout the vil lage as the fourteenprisoners walked slowly to the r iver 's edge.

Sri cried as soon as she was taken riff the t r u ~ k . Mrs. Y wascalm, although her face was as bi t ter as a dry lemon.

They were lined up in rows at the steep bank of the river. Ican s t i l l hear them weeping. Then I hear nothing. world seemed tospin under my eyelids and I fel t either sleepy or dizzy, God onlyknows which.


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At one o'clock I was returned to my post and I telephoned myreport to the commandant. He was apparently used such things, forhe merely asked me to send him a statement in writing.

That was the end, I couldn't take any more. I t was war, ar.d hadthe PKI won, what happened to Sri might have h a p p e n ~ d to me. Suchthings may have been necessary and common, but I couldn't watch themhappen. No one was to blame. Throughout these notes I have deliber-ately altered names. Without the commandant, the team, the soldierswho taught the communists the same lesson they taught Sri, Mrs. Y andDr. X, we might s t i l l be fighting the 30th September Movement. Soloin part icular , and central Java in general, could have become anotherDa Nang and Vietnam. I f a ll men behaved as I did, the situation mighthave been reversed. The communists could have taken the in i t ia t ive.I decided to leave. I had to get out of Solo.

For five hours I tried to draw up a report showing why what hadhappened was necessary. I couldn't . I couldn't put the blame onMrs. Y and Sri , nor could I objectively report that Sri had been impri-soned and executed without even being interrogated f i rs t . I decided toabsent myself from further duties, without informine the commandant.The report was never finished; I never saw the commandant again.

My aunt was the only person I told that I was going back toPekalongan. On the night bus I fel t that I was leaving a ll my caresfar behind me. r didn't give a damn what anyone might think or do.r was bored and r couldn't l ie to myself any longer.

None of my friends knew that I was going. Was I running away?Yes, I was. They would talk about me and say that I was a coward,although they had no right to do so. r didn' t care, I had to rest .


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Perhaps I was trying to answer Sri . I hadn't w a n t ~ d her to diemistrusting and hating me, as she probably did. Her death depressedme. I s w e ~ ~ to God I couldn't have watched i t .

Jakarta,21 - i i i - 1969.


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DEATH

by Mohammad Sj oekoer.

The jeep stopped in the curve in the middle of the clearing,followed by two trucks. We leaped off th e las t truck, our hearts

,beating wildly as we tried to control our emotions in various ways.The heavy afternoon rain had muddied the earth, but the sky was clearand the air crisp. The sickle moon of the seventh day of the Muslimmonth of Shawal had long ago sunk in th e west. I t was a very quietnight.

We stood in groups around the truck, waiting for further instruc-t ions from the commandant. He was busy talking to his subordinates,behind the jeep. The middle truck was f if teen meters away and seemedf ierce, s t i f f and mysterious. Although i t carried twenty people, noone but the driver had descended. They had to wait for us. And we hadto wait for the order.

Of the eighteen of us, only Gumun was not afraid or anxious.His t a l l , thin body towered proudly above our frightened bodies. Malabar,a brave, ope!n man, was trying to hide his fear behind a facile bu tfalse smile. The others, l ike myself, fe l t hot and cold.

"You' shaking, aren ' t you?" Malabar whispered. His voicesounded strained.

I n o d d E ~ d . The others were smoking. I knew they a l l fel t as Idid, except Gumun. They were afraid. No doubt anyone would have been.We were about t.o see something we had never seen before, nor wouldprobably e V I ~ r see again. Malabar had no need to l ie . Perhaps he wasafraid b e c ~ J s e Gumun showed absolutely no fear at all . But he fe l t


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that he had to say something impressive."Huh! You're a l l a lo t of stupid fa i r ies . We should be grateful

that i t ' s not us there. They fai led. They could have taken over, thenwe'd be the ones to suffer . Maybe something even worse."

He smiled, l ike a man skil led at analysis, but the cowardly toneof his voice betrayed him. "They've sinned. They beat and foughteveryone who wasn't on thei r side. Their teachings changed them intoa pack of wild animals, ready to take power any way they could. Andthey t r ied to. But God is merciful. Truth and justice will alwaysprevail at the r ight time. Tonight is the r ight time."

I leaned against a mahogany tree and l i t a cigarette. Malabar'slecture made no impression on me. Everyone is born and raised withdiff icul ty, and l ives and fights the same way. The communists didn' tlook vicious. God had created them too.

I regretted having come. The military commandant of th e citylived in our subdistrict . We were on good terms; he insisted that Icome. " I t ' l l be good experience, friend."

I could s t i l l have refused, but several of my friends had beenon other nights and I fe l t l e f t out. Ali had insisted, I was frightenedbut wanted to go. Now I was in agony. I t was even worse when Tuhri,one of my companions, came and told me that Baidi was on th e other truck.

"Stop that row:" a policeman snapped.Baidi had been in my class at school. He always failed arithmetic

and geography. We studied chanting together at Kyai Kamdani's surau.There wasn't much time to be sad. We were quickly ordered to

get the prisoners down one by one and take them to certain placeabout fifty meters from th e road.

"Don't be worried: They're t ied up and they've got sticking plaster


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over their eyes," the commandant said. He was a smilll man. whose voicewas heavy with authority. He looked rather smart in nis badly cutl ieutenant 's uniform. He l e f t us. A few of us looked at each otherfor emotional reassurance.

"Don't feel so bad. Imagine i t ' s a wild bull you're getting ridof. Let's drag them there." Malabar said.

Finally we did as we were ordered: took them down one by one andled them into the r ice field. There were two large holes there. Ilooked for Baidi but i t was too dark to see him.

Tuhri and I led a t a l l man dressed in a sarong and pyjama top.We held his arms t ightly. I wanted to do the decent thing and ask himhis name and where he came from, bu t repressed the thought at once. Theanswer would have made me sentimental. I doubted i : they knew whatnext lay in store for them. Suddenly he asked softly: "Where areyou taking me, sirs?"

I looked at Tuhri and wondered what to do. For a moment Tuhriwas si lent . Then he said: "We're taking you to another prison, father."

"Why is the ground so muddy?"There was nothing we could say. We felt sorry for him.At last they were ready. Each hole was about one and a half meters

deep. We lined ten men up a t each hole and sat them with their feetinside. A squad of soldiers in camouflage jackets and five policemenfrom our subdistrict stood about twelve paces behind them.

" R e a d y ~ " the commandant Shouted, snatching his pis to l and pointingi t into the ai r .

I shivered. The wind seemed to flow over my b ~ d y and the presenceof death was very real . We clenched our f ists and held our breath;


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everyone was very hot. I was s t i l l looking for Baidi. The pistol shotwas followed immediately by a loud volley and a briGht flash of r i f lefire. Twenty human beings screamed and fel l into the holes. I t washorrible. I shivered again, aware that i f I didn't try to controlmyself I would faint . r had never seen men ki l l each other before,nor so many dead a ll at the one time.

r concentrated on remaining conscious. Several of my friendsstood as though bewitched.

A second volley of shots into th e two holes SOOn stopped thepathetic screaming and crying. Then everything was very quiet.

I fel l down and sat under a coconut palm. What I had seen seemedsuddenly like part of a play or a movie, and not an actual executionat al l .

The others gathered and waited for the hoes to f i l l th e holes,but I stayed where r was. They had died so easily, so pointlessly,fut i le ly, and were buried like animals.

Later, when I returned home, I couldn't sleep.

Yogyakarta,January 1969.


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STAR OF DEATH

by Kipandjikusmin.

Ktut Geria felt the cold morning wind as soon as he stepped ontothe Madurese prau. In the distant dawn darkness he could just make outGilimanuk beach. Something inside him made him shiver.

He sighed and lay down on the deck. Although he was t ired becausehe had not slept the previous night, his eyes would not close. He wasas confused and tormented as the nation i t se l f . The sailors, true sonsof Madura, did not interest him. The whisper of the waves on the wallsof the boat scarcely touched him. A fl icker of weariness passed overhis face and vanished with the wind. So he was finally leaving Java.I t had been his f i rs t vis i t and the island represented a collage ofproud and horrifying dreams.

The student movement, CGMI, congress in Jakarta. The fiercera l l ies in Senayan stadium. The secret meetings and the militarytraining at Lubang Buaya. The climactic assault on the generals.When the RPKAD para-commando troops smashed th e movement, he had beenlucky enough to escape to central Java. walking most of the way, dayaf ter day. The caretaker leadership sent him instructions through anumber of couriers to form bases in Bali for the counterattack.

I t was a death sentence. The public att i tude to communism wasextreme. A communist waq the lowest form of human f i l th , f i t onlyfor extermination. I t was proclaimed throughout the land that those whodid not believe in God should die.

As a communist, Geria 's future could have been bri l l iant . Althoughhis colleagues a t the university agreed that he was very capable in his


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field, his assistant lectureship for the past two years had been theresult of party influence.

He had always been clever. During the f if t ies he was a legendaryfigure among the wandering gangs of boys. Because older boys likedhim, they taught him to read and write.

I t was rumored that he was the son of the banished king of Tabananand he had never denied this. His fine skin and hanasome features madei t possible.

He had been destined to be the sort of person he was. His parentswho lived in a village on the slopes of Mount Agung, had been killed ina landslide. Almost everyone else in the village died. Ktut escapedmiraculously. He became bi t ter . t i fe was hard. Until he was twelvehe hung around the Bali Hotel in Den Pasar. He could do anything:shine shoes, steal , find prostitutes for foreign tour1.sts or even suitableyoung men for homosexuals.

A local PKI leader found him reading in a temple and they becamefriends. The bitterness in his eyes turned to a strong determinationto fight everything he regarded as unjust. He had been trained to beevil , and the gradual communist poison fed him by the leader suited him.The man eventually adopted Geria as his own son.

Despite his age, he became one of the leading communists in the area.The task he had been given showed the high regard the Politburo held himin. He was proud of that t rust .

Gradually the boat approached Gilimanuk. I t was afternoon. Hisfalse travel documents helped him past the harbor officials , as usual.

He wandered down the broken roads in the eastern ~ a r t of the city,and decided not to go back to Den Pasar for the moment. Singaraja


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would be safer: no one knew him in the north. He needed freedom toformulate his plans before he took action.

A vis i t to a shop where car t drivers drank the intoxicating bremearned him an easy ride.

As they travelled he saw how calm things were and was disappointed.He had expect1ed things to be worse; i t would have been easier to s t i rup trouble.

The cartman watched him as he was deep in thought. Those fromJava always h,ad exci ting things to te 11: he wan ted to talk . Ktut' satt i tude made this impossible.

They stopped the night in a temple in the jungle. Wayan, th edriver, freed his oxen and le t them graze in the cOLrtyard. Then hemade f ires on the right and le f t of the car t and lay down next to Geria.The old man b,egan to sing. His voice echoed through the trees of th efores t and bllended wi th th e screams of the monkeys.

Pretending to be asleep, Ktut l is tened to the words of the oldman's song. The tune was t radi t ional , the words were llot.

He listened, suddenly anxious, start led by the song.

,"Thank YI'U, Lady Durga, for your mercyYou have conquered the cruelty of Yams,Bearer of hel l - f i re to heaven,Whose tale spread death.Those wh., saw him were appalled.Yama ordlered those in your palace,Widows and orphans, to weep "

When Wayiln saw that Ktut was interested, he began th e narrative.


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He had never seen the Balinese as angry as they were with the PKIfor what had happened in Jakarta. Many of those considered "reds" werekidnapped at night. Their headless bodies were found in the morning.

" I t was awful, my son. They kil led women too. I t was said that th eGerwani had been involved in Lubang Buaya: The people showed them nomercy. I found some of their bodies on the side of the river south ofKuta. Their guts hung out; thei r backs were ful l of knife wounds, carvingsof open-mouthed crocodiles." Wayan shook his head and dragged on hispalm-leaf cigarette.

"By a l l the gods. The Red Berets came and calmed things down.The gods are angry with us. How were things on Java1"

Ktut answered offhandedly and was si lent , stunned by the storyhe had jus t heard. He wondered about various friends.

How could the shattered ruins of the party ever come together again?He clenched his f is ts . His eyes were f i l led with tears."Damn!" he swore, "I'm so weak." He had known many of the members

of Gerwani.Six m o n ~ : h s ago he had sent the Gerwani cadres home for refusing

to indulge in free love af ter the night parades a t Lubang Buaya. Theywere s t i l l dominated by bourgeois moral principles and not completelyrevolutionary in outlook. He wondered who was s t i l l alive and thequestion added to his gloom.

"Why did i t happen, sir?" he asked pointlessly."Perhaps i t 's the old story, my son. The holy war of Puputan,

sixty years ago, was preceded by the sighting 0- a comet. So was thegreat war at Klungkung. The priests said that Yama. god of death, wasangry: men had sinned. Many people saw the s tar before the PKI r ~ v o l t e d .


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Those who saw i t tasted death. They fe l t threatened: they had tok i l l before others killed them, and they became fierce, cruel, ruthless,unthinking and suspicious. Blood flowed. Finally they were killed.What do you think?"

Ktut said nothing. His forced smile hid the mockery he fel t ,although he remembered Ikeyan Saki, the comet, had passed by on theday that the party was destroyed. Marxism. of course, explained thedifference between coincidence and causality. Ktut pulled his sarongaround himself, wanting to catch up on his lost sleep.

As soon as he dozed off he heard women weeping piteously, thenterrible screams. He started. The voices seemed to move around thesky. Falling more deeply asleep, he saw an orange l ight stretchedout in the black sky, with f i re blazing from i t s ta i l . The snake

s l ~ l y advanced towards him and stopped over his head. In the l ight.the fire formed dim groups of hundreds, thousands, of deformed peoplewho had been tortured. In his terror, he recognized some of them.The supreme leader of the party stood with his head almost completelysevered from his body.

Their e Y E ~ s stared jealously, vaguely at him. He shivered, revolted.Then, suddenly, they a l l pointed and waved in his direction. Neverbefore had he been so ter r i f ied or afraid. A month ago, the Muslimyouth league, Banser, had trapped him on Porong bridge. His se lf-control had enabled him to escape.

When the eyes suddenly faded, he fe l t cold and damp. I t wasraining heavily. Thunder and lightning slashed l ike fighting cocks.The oxen snorted next to the cart . Wayan was busy putting an oldtarpaulin up to keep the rain off.


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I

"Did yo,u see the death star , s i d " Ktut asked anxiously, hisvoice lost in the splashing of the rain. The old man looked at him,pit i ful ly.

"You must have been dreaming. The star never shows i tse lf togood folks," he said firmly. Striking a f l in t , he re l i t his cigarette.Ktut calmed, almost ashamed by his nervousness.

!tI'm t ired. The old man's superstitions must bE.. affecting me.must fight. that ," he whispered to himself.

"According to the old people, Yama is afraid of red. I t repre-sents the majesty of Durga. The troops of the grandson of the King ofKarangasem went into bat t le behind red flags. They forced the Dutchback and regained the palace. The Dutch le f t the people alone afterthat . What did I t e l l you, hey? History does repeat i t se l f . TheRed Berets go t us our island back, didn' t they?"

"Hem," Geria grunted. He now knew why a l l the carts in Gilimanukcarried red tassels.

He yawned, nodded, and was t ired. Wayan talked on, increasinglymore vigorously, unaware that his companion was only vaguely listening.

The rain eased off. Ktut began to snore; the cartman fe l l silent.For a week Ktut stayed in the old man's house. I t was a peace-

ful village: no one had belonged to the PKI. The northern Balineseare very OpE!U. He was well received and mixed with everyone. No onesuspected h j ~ m .

One night, on his way home from looking after Rimbat's child,he suddenly remembered that Wayan had told him his yowlgest nephewwould be coming from Den Pasar. He wished he had acked the nephew'sname. Anyone from the south was dangerous. I t was time to move.


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Turning the corner he stopped: the o il lamp in th e front room wasalight. He had l e f t Wayan gambling. Had the nephew come? He wasn'tsupposed to for another four days. Ktut whistled and entered the house.

At the doorway of his room, his heart suddenly ntopped beating.Gde N, his enemy, the boy he had had kicked out of school as anti-Manipol*, was going through the contents of his babe The pamphletsand instructions for the regional committee were torn from the liningof the case and scattered a l lover the floor. The several hundredthousand rupiah from the Politburo for the underground army werestacked on the bed.

Gde looked up and laughed mockingly."The las t person you wanted to meet . " H e stood with his

hands on his hips. A tight smile crossed Ktut's blue face and his l ipstrembled.

" 1 . " H e stopped. He had nothing to say."What a pity i t ' s taken us so long to get together again. St i l l ,

better la te than never." He stared at Ktut's rigid body. "No onewould have thought of finding you here. Just as well I found you f i rs t .I f anyone else had discovered you, they would have killed my uncle aswell!" Gde Naya stepped closer. "A lo t of people w')uld like to tasteyour blood, comrade. They'd l ike to do to you what they did to theothers!"

Silence. Finally Ktut asked: "What do you walt, Naya?"" I ' l l take you to the regional military command. That' 11 be

best."

*Sukarno's "Pol i t ical Manifesto" of 1959.


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"All right,""Ktut whispered. " I ' l l change f i rs t .""That won't be necessary, comrade. I t ' 11 only Taste time. IIKtut remembered Wayan's stories. Anger colored his pale,

frightened face. Hatred shone in his yeys, but he lacked the cockinesshe had had when he got rid of Geria. He turned and suddenly lookedout of the half-open window. The leaves of the sugar cane trembled.The o il lamp flickered and almost died, the window played with theshutters. A bright l ight shone in th e sky.

liThe comet," he whispered. Gde Naya turned an:! looked out of thewindow. When he saw the knife swing towards his heart, i t was toolate.

His screams reverberated through the house and start led theneighbors.

Ktut seemed suddenly to wake from a dream. He fel t Naya'sbody fal l into his arms, and the warm blood wash o v ~ r his body andonto the money an the bed.

Feet pounded around the house l ike sledgehammers. Geria quicklypushed the body under the bed and leaped out the window.

Blinded by panic, he ran through the village like a mad dog,wounding anyone who dared to stand in his way. Fierre shouts, cryingchildren and barking dogs added to th e noise. Torches were l i t inevery corner of the village and the danger-gang beaten without ceasing.The darkness helped him. Seven newly trained civil-defense officerschased him, determined to take him dead or alive.

Outside th e village he was suddenly aware that he was runningin the wrong direction. In front of him was a r a v i n ~ where animalswere sacrificed on feast days. The men were gettinB closer. Ktut


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slowly skirted the steep bank of the ravine. He decided to surrender,then realited he had l i t t l e chance of survival i f vil lagers caughthim. What was there to l ive for, anyway?

Madness overcame him.The earth began to give way with a loud roar. Many blinded

animals had been driven there before, now i t was the turn of a man:Ktut Geria.

The men stopped as soon as they heard the rumble and his scream.They stood there stunned, no t knowing what to do unt i l the snappingof soil and stone died away. The dust rose in the gray l ight .Suddenly one man whispered to another. The whispers formed a chain.They were terrified.

None wanted to be the las t to leave. All swore to te l l theirwives to bring a plate of food to the village temple to ask forgive-ness for their having set foot on the holy ground of Shiva, thesupreme destroyer.

Kebun Kosong,11 March 1966.


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THE CLIMAX

by Satyagraha Hoerip.

I

I t was probably the hand of God which stopped me becoming amurderer. I could have done i t ; I was ready enough.

I f I have to lay a l l my cards on the table, I admit i t . I wasready. I had thought about i t for a long time. I t upset me. Ididn't care what people might have thought. The contlict was there:I couldn't pretend i t wasn't, nor could I hide i t - i t is not easyto decide to ki l l a man.

I am no t easily frightened, nor am I a coward. But no man acceptsmurder easi ly, especially when he is to be th e murderer. When rwas a child I used to walk by myself at night. I used to fight biggerboys. I wasn't a hero, I never thought that r was. Anyway I wasneither physically or psychologically capable of being one. Anordinary person. of ordinary courage. The same as any other man. Ihad already shown that, several times. As a "leading figure," I had,of necessity, taken firm action in a number of socicl and pol i t icalsituations when i t was quite possible that I would be either abusedor assaulted by my enemies.

Even so, there is no need to discuss whether r am a brave manor a coward. Not as far as I am concerned, at any rate. This wasan entirely differnt situation: murder. the death of my sister ' shusband. I t had nothing to do with courage or c o w a ~ d i c e , past orfuture.


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I t was an existential problem, not the simple mathematicaleffort of two plus three take away four. And no t a l i terary one,where the plot can be changed to accomodate real l i fe . Which waswhy I was so tense.

II

I t was very hot. The morning wind was blowing faster than usualand dust scattered. I had seen several i l l ~ f i t t i n g hats rol l ingdown the st reet . Children's ki tes flew in circles . I t was hotterand windier than usual.

I bought a drink and ate a packet of peanuts, then bought threebuns for my children. I paid and got ready to r i d ~ home on mybicycle. Then I saw Wimbadi pedalling towards me quickly, staringand waving to me to wait for him. He rode across the grass of thetown square and stopped breathlessly next to me.

"Success," I told him. " I t looks as though we can s t i r up theplace a bit ." I was delighted. Hari Sumarjo was ready to pay forour presentation of Camus' Caligula. "You can have the lead role.r ki l l you, but pay for i t ! It I laughed.

He was si lent . Perhaps he heard what I said but he showed nosign of emotion. Panting heavily he said: "Kuslan's here. Thekids saw him in his house a t two o'clock this morning. I bet he'ss t i l l there." His eyes shone l ike headlights.

I said nothing. I wanted neither to keep talking nor to go home.I knew what he was leading up to . We looked a t each other, l ike twofighters sizing each other up.

"Go on," I said pointlessly.


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"Don't worry. The kids have surrounded his house. Jono, Moel,Edi, Peno, Koen, Samaul, and a lo t of others. D a n a r ~ o ' s even calledthe Mus lim Youth to help us."

"Can we talk about this at home?" I asked. I was beginning tounderstand him bet ter . I wanted to give the buns to my children. Iwas beginning to get nervous.

"All right. I f i t ' s just to take the buns home." The buns werehanging on my handlebar. "But we can' t be long. I t ~ s time to dosomething!" He looked around the square angrily. Fi[\a11y helooked at me and said: "We wanted to ask you to help us. Come on:"The cal l was l ike a knife in my heart .

Wimbadi was well bui l t . He was a third year fine arts student.He had read my things and liked them. One day he came to the house.We became close friends.

When we put on a play, he was always the direc,or or the lead.When I went out of town, before our writer ' s group was smashed, heused to read poetry in my radio session for me. Before CGMI andthe communist l i terary front, Lekra, attacked him for being the culturalofficer of the student council, he had spoken three times on topicswhich other cultural associations would no longer touch. He hadalmost been kicked out of college as a resul t .

He used to come to my house, ta lk, m ~ c k about, borrow my booksand sometimes my money, although mainly we just talked. My wife andI liked him: he was l ike one of the family, a younger brother.

IlLet's decide that later , I I I replied, starting to pedal. " f i r s twe'l l go home. I can' t think here."

"No. There i sn ' t much to talk about. We have to act - quickly."


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He slid off the bar of his bike and onto the seat .Suddenly I fel t dizzy. A whole number of things had finally come

together. I ignored him and rode, ignoring the wind, the heat andeven the bread. I had just put new t ires on my bike, but didn't evennotice when I drove through a large pothole.

Kuslan, by brother-in-law, had jus t returned from a year overseas, sent by his organization. I knew what la y in sture for him.Over th e last three weeks, hundreds of other members had suffered a tthe hands of the masses. He was an important man in th e distr ict .Even those with only minimal connections had been killed. Otherswere given to the authorities, then taken back a t night and taken outof town. Only their names came back. Any possessions le f t weretaken to their houses. Visiting relatives were told not to come again.

He must have known. How could he not? He had been in Indonesiabefore coming here. How could he be so stupid?

I could understand even less why my young friends were waitingfor me. Why couldn't they arrange things themselves? I said nothinguntil I sa t with Wimbadi a t the well. So that my wife and childrencouldn't hear, I whispered.

"Just think," he replied quickly because he wanted to leave, "who,of a ll the people in the world--in the world, not jus t in this town-has he most often, and most viciously, betrayed? Ridiculed in public?

,

You. Pol i t ical ly and ideologically he's our enemy. But you're hisown family."

I frowned. He realized that I did not entirel:l approve. Isnapped a t the children to take their buns and go back to theirmother who was darning shirts in the front room. I told her not to


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prepare us anything."You can' t deny the facts. I t ' s only right. He lived off you

for a long ttme. You didn' t have much but you shared what you hadwith him and his family. As soon as he got pol i t ical backing and ab it of status, look how he paid you back." He beco.me more vigorous."'I


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about why you did what you did. You shouldn't just think and write aboutthe l ight . We have to act courageously on i t s behalf. Or should wedebate the matter at greater length?"

He was angry; his face was dark red. The veins in his arms weret ightly knotted. .Without a word to my wife or myself, he left . Iran after him. At th e guava tree, he promised to come back again afterthe evening prayer hour. His face showed how much he loathed me. Iknew what that could mean these days. Anything was possible.

I threw away my cigarette and locked myself in my study, havingf i rs t told my wife that I wanted no lunch and ignored th e rest ofher questions.

The small, cramped room tortured me. I put on my shir t again andwent to meet Hari, to find out what he thought. He was older thanWimbadi and the others; his judgment would be sounder.

"I'm going out," I called to my wife. She didn' t come out. Thechildren called: "Bye-bye, daddy, bye-bye "I ignored them.I . .

I I I

My thoughts were in a whirl as I walked. My vains were telegraphpoles. I talked to myself, vulgarly cursing the ~ o l e c u l e s on the roads.r had encouraged mother to accept Kuslan's request for the hand ofYayuk, although she only loved him because her former boyfriend, apilot , had married a Russian gir l while studying overseas.

Yayuk was only twenty-one. She didn' t have to accept the f irs tman that proposed. She might have met the right man" in time. Nowthe children she had borne him would be fatherles&. I t was my fault.


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How could I explain that to anyone, even my wife? My mother had stayedwith Yayuk to help with the children while Kuslan was away. She wouldknow that I could have saved Kuslan and I did nothing. I dreaded that .

I remembered th e expression on Wimbadi's face. I could imagine theothers, Moel, Jono, Edi, and the rest , waiting for me to come. I wasvery upset. I cursed Kuslan for coming back without realizing that hecould have been killed in front of his own wife and children. Myonly sis ter would be a widow, her children "orphans." What a fool.He had become a communist for the sake of his belly. Gradually hismind and soul got involved too. Couldn't he se e that the party 's ideologyof atheist ic materialism conflicted with his own belief in the gloryof God? Not to mention the rest .

I t was, of course, not impossible that God wanted him to die, andthat He wanted me to ki l l him. Who could say. But why me, and notone of the others? They could have told me afterwards.

I would have fought against my own death vigorously, unless i tbecame clear that this was the wil l of God. Then I would have donenothing but submit quietly. One ought to die pure. I wanted to l ivein innocence and happiness and to die the same way. No matter howafraid I would be at f irs t , how much I refused, when the time came,I wanted to die willingly, gratefully, and with a smile on my l ips .That would be best for those who survived me, and for myself. Ihoped I would be able to praise His greatness, to thank Him for Hismercy, and to ask Him for His forgiveness.

"Long l ive Mr. S o e s e t i o ~ " some of my former students called out."Down with Lekra: Hang Aidit! Long live the Armed Forces and thePeople: 11


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I waved back at them and forced myself to s m ~ l e . I had neverexpected to feel this way about proving what I believed. This wasworse than being victimized, losing my position, or being vilified bysome of my own pupils. To become a murderer, to ki l l one's brotherin-law

I was confused and sad. Not even my own father 's death hadaffected me l ike this . His death had been natural. Murder, especiallythe murder of a kinsman, was unnatural. I cursed the molecules on theroad and various people: Aidit , Untung, Kuslan, th e young men s t i l lwaiting for me, m ~ s e 1 f

Hari was out. His wife said that he would be b ~ c k soon. Idecided to wait. I told her that there was no need to get me any refreshments and I would be quite happy to s i t in the front room aloneand wait. His wife was a champion gossip and, things being the waythey were, her stories would have made me eVen more miserable.

Again I thought of Wimbadi. His face seemed to be there, whereverI looked, waiting for me to decide: was I really going to act againstKuslan, or was I only talk. I agreed ful ly that l ight of Godwas more than pity and meekness, that i t had to be manifested throughaction. And yet i t was hard to act when that meant kill ing my brotherin-law. Kuslan fall ing, ful l of wounds. In a story, my hero wouldsuffer doubt, then act, no matter how intense his struggle had been.That was what happened in th e Bhagavad Gita. Arjuna was broken because he had to ki l l members of his own family, and his guru. Krishnainstructed him. He fought bravely. In the Koran God insis ts that theapostate be paid back ful ly. Caesar loved and trusted Brutus, butfor the sake of truth and justice, Brutus killed h i ~ . I knew a ll that .


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But this was real .I thought of the others - Jono, Moel, Edi, Ristam. Danarto,

and the rest - hidden or obvious around Yayuk's huuse, waiting forme. They were teenagers: emotion was more important to them thanreason. Complicated things confused them. The only thing that interestedthem about people was how many died each day. For them an individual 'smaturity and worth rested no t on knowledge or action, but on hisreadiness to ki lL Was he ready, for the sake of "humanity," toki l l another human being. They wanted action. That meant ki l l ing.

I had only a few Kansas cigarettes lef t . My stomach suddenlyhurt. Hari had s t i l l ~ no t returned and I wondered i f he told his wifehe would only be out a l i t t le while, as I had, while intending tobe ou t a ll day. MY stomach tightened. I went to the to i le t so quicklythat his wife laughed.

Short, fierce fragments of an imaginary film ran through my head.I saw real men mixed with characters from l i terature: Arjuna, Aidit,Brutus, Untung, Wimbadi, the communist rebellion in 1948, Iqbal, Sastro,Kuslan, Yayuk, Camus, my children, Yayuk's, our mother. The figuresmerged into each other.

Our pol i t ical struggle should have led to a fight for human justicefor a ll men; instead i t had led to internal dissension and self-seekingfanaticism. We had compartmentalized our l ives and destroyed anydignified total i ty . Men had hated and killed in the name of humanity.Politics was a means to an end and had been forced on every segmentof l i fe .

r shuddered and wondered what my pupils would think i f they foundout what their "Mr. Soesetia" was really l ike. The washbasin was ful l


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of water, but the dipper was nowhere to be seen. I t didn' t matter;that was the least of my problems.

"Give up," I half-surrendered. "At leas t wait unt i l Hari comes."

IV

When I came out, Hari Sumarjo was waiting in the front room.He looked older than usual, in his sarong and fez, but perhaps he wasjust calmer than I was . His gentle eyes welcomed me. His two armswere stretched along the back of the sofa. He was s t i l l sweatingafter his walk.

"Do you need more money?" he asked with a smile. "The performance i sn ' t for a long time yet, is i t?"

"Good lord, i t ' s not that ," I replied si t t ing down in front ofhim.

He watched the Kansas shake in the fingers of my r ight hand."What's up? You look so If"I t t s l ike this ," I replied, quickly exp1ainbg everythi

gestapu harry aveling

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