Jakarta, March 5, 1985
For the sake of Democracy 2 (1985); the translation is in Bahasa Indonesia Reports, cultural and social supplement (August 1986)
Sincerely,
February 26, 1985 letter I received yesterday, is also an open letter Achdiat K. Mihardja for friends (scholars) of Australia is attached. Thank you. Attachment was indeed surprising, especially regarding self-stuck me, and remain in the unity of the spirit of the manikebuis on stage now: to defend themselves and defend themselves without any attack with a whimper about her pain of the past, which actually they do not suffer any blisters whatsoever. Total general from all that experienced by the manikebuis the disturbed period pleasure, not to mention the balance of persecution, oppression, humiliation, deprivation and robbery experienced by one person Pram. After they successfully co-founded the military regime, by borrowing the words in an open letter page.: "All forgotten and Forgiven" and revisiannya: "We've Forgiven but not forgotten." I can only stroked his chest. Hypocrisy and arrogance in the right mix, balanced with insignificance guts in times of fear. And the man himself knows, the development of social-cultural-political - here in Indonesia - is not solely an individual act, the more one national procedures in obtaining national identity and the independence. No one among the ever expressed sympathy manikebuis - do not imagine the protests - which killed at his opponent, allusion, or even literally. Until now. Example of national artists Trubus. Japo [?] Lampong. Moreover, local artists who could not count them. Where are they now. Where is it songwriter-velvetleaf velvetleaf? Sukarno said: Yo relatives, yo sometimes, yen die m [? A] lu kelangan. What happens is - still using Java atmosphere: larane Tego, Tego patine.
The main problem at that time was simple: the clash between two opinions; revolution has or has not been completed. The others are the problem follow from it. My own opinion, is not yet complete. The proof has never appeared the history of the Indonesian revolution. Because there is not distansi with him. Not yet is a complete unanimity. So historians fear. In fact, tend to be named said the national revolution and circumscribed as a war for independence.
Conflicts Manikebu and our party was nothing but a matter of polemics. It's hard, but not to kill, right? Kan was indeed one way to get a general truth, which can be accepted by the public? That at the time it happened terror committed by the people as alleged Lekra now, I really can not be assured. Beb Vuyk in Dutch newspaper alleges: terror has made the people Lekra against several persons, among them Bernard IJzerdraad. When he came to Indonesia and meet him alone, IJzerdraad answer is never terrorized. And Beb Vuyk never corrects his writings. Beb Vuyk himself to leave Indonesia after the failure PRRI-Permesta, then ask for Dutch citizenship. Maybe he felt so important for Indonesia, so in old age felt compelled to establish a lie, especially to my corner. in terms of the polemic-polemic tsb. I only use my rights as free citizens to express opinions. And I am aware of my rights. As I often say: I earn citizenship by struggle rather than a free gift.
And what is the real coup failed G-30S/PKI it? I do not know. Approximately 24 months ago I received a copy of a European political correspondent of the Journal of Contemporary Asia, without number and without the year, titled: "Who's Plot - New Light on the 1965 Events," by WF Wertheim. It was the first time I read the description of people who do not aligned. Also the first information after 20 years. Apparently because of my ignorance that I have taken away from everything for 14 years and 2 months + city arrest nearly 6 years (without a legal declaration), without ever seeing a judge who listens to defense council me. It's very expensive price of citizenship that I have to pay. So citizenship is also me I use as much as possible. That, too, there are still people who are not willing. Also the letter I wrote on this man by upholding the price of citizenship to me.
Now I would have responded writing A.K.M. He does not exist in Indonesia, erupted when the 1965 event was. But my own experience. I will tell as far as my own experience, not to make too many mistakes.
On October 1, 1965 pagihari I heard from the radio of Fortune movement. Then the news about the composition of the name of the Revolutionary Council. Before that announcement was promoted to the soldiers who took part in the movement and demotions Fortunately for those who became officers in the above Lieutenant Colonel. Already at that time to my great surprise, really has not yet been care-rank? This movement of what, by whom? Me more at home than not. Rutine Working out of the house is in order to prepare Lantern and teaching at Publika Res. And very occasionally to the pencil factory where I was "appointed" to be "advisory." So in that house alone I "know" some things that happen from the sounds coming out. First came Abdullah SP, it Hamka challenger, this time just working on a new Islamic newspaper published, and which now I forget his name. He said do not feel safe and wanted to flee to my place. Saya objection, because it does not know the real situation. An employee tatausaha Res Publika University came to the house surrender fees, and said the University was closed due to unsafe conditions. He gave more than the usual fees. A few days later the employee came from the pencil factory, was also handed honorarium, also higher than usual, because the factory was forced to close, a state of emergency. Then came a friend who preach, Aidit houses were burned, as well as several other houses. He also preached about how the mass movement. They attack the person household, then came the uniformed officers who do not protect even catch that was attacked. "I believe the man would be treated so well," he said. You see what's wrong with me? I asked. "Error bung, bung figure since." That's it? My place here, I said finally.
A tailor, who sewed clothes dibisiki ban me by the neighboring members of the PNI - tailor it also neighbors - offer a safe place to me far in Bradford (if I remember correctly). I say thank you. Surprising how others can see, My Security under threat. Another friend came and suggested that I run. Why run? I asked. What do I have to fly? Me? and why?
Then comes an author youngest person I know. Usually, he immediately went into the back and opened his own larder. He did not repeat the habit. Behavior raises suspicions. I still remember the words that I say to him: I was alone from the first, if pengeroyok really want to go I will I face alone; my place here.
The situation grew serious. My wife just gave birth two months. is right when she and the children temporarily staying at home-in-law. Sign my name, from marble stone, many years just sitting, I accidentally put on the front wall by first carving the wall. As a statement: I am here, do not stray to the wrong address.
Elsewhere the second wife of my in-laws held a salvation for my safety. Meanwhile, I stayed at home preparing Indonesian literary encyclopedias. In my tired state I move on to learn Hadith Bukori. at night all the lights I put out and I am sitting alone on the porch. My friend just one, my younger brother who returned to Indonesia to prepare his dissertation, Koesalah Soebagyo Toer.
Then came October 13, 1965 at 23:00. Next thing I knew my house was surrounded. Fence lamp of 200 watts - when voltage is only 110, but may be considered too luxurious for village life - my turn. In front of the door I saw people running to avoid the light. His face was masked. His hands carry pikar. Night-night, with a mask too, immediately thought of my stuff is certainly out of the house is finished dirampoknya raided. I know that evil thoughts. what can make as vigorous voices preaching to the house, the military carrying school children onto trucks and told to shout against Sukarno. I never saw myself. I believe, because pelda (or peltu?) Who lives in front of my house, had two nights in a row talking loudly in the hallway before the house, that the military had its own politics, Sukarno had no meaning. It is said that he was the former Colonial Army. In fact, on the second night she opened her mouth loudly while walking around, and I feel it is directed at me, saya Cigarette unplug it from the lips and I throw him. There was a shriek as she jumped. So if I have a dirty mind like it was not improper. Well, I turn off every light rail, came hordes at the door. When I turn it on again they fled. Obviously their faces that I have known. Soon the rocks once the side neighbors, who are prepared to build a house, berlayangan to my home. That can not be thrown by the power of one person. At least two people with street membandulnya with gloves or with others. When my children were still at home, especially infants 2 months, I can not imagine what would happen. Boulder fell on the house roof penetration and the ceiling. So really people want me dead. I took the mop stick of hardwood, also armed himself with a small samurai (granting Joebaar Ajoeb his return from Japan). This is my last day, here in my place. I know, it would be impossible to fight a gang, but I'll have to defend yourself? The second street to survive is to give the gang something they remember for life: words that are more powerful than guns.
With a voice loud enough I screamed: This is what you call it struggle? If only I had fought fought since his youth. But not this way. Come here you leader! What kind of fought this way?
Frenetic stopped. Also thrown stone. Suddenly a large chunk of stone grabbed my thigh and darted about the front door which also destroyed. Stones become great again. Fence lamp accidentally destroyed by the throw as well.
I heard a voice: Where is the oil. Here, fuel only. But I also hear the voice of parents left neighbor of mine, a shaman love: do not, do not burn, then my house caught fire. Shortly thereafter came the sound again: do not pass on my land. When I look into my brother's house was gone. Apparently he escaped from the back gate and straight into the land of the shamans of love.
And sure enough the friend says: then come the people in uniform. Working methods which will be constantly visible. They consist of police and military. I have not had time to use a cane and samurai me, they had not yet entered the yard of my house.
Military commander and his gang operation I opened the door. They come in and direct the blame on me: in vain against the people. My Cash replied: gangs, not the people.
After they check the whole house he said again: Prepare, pack let us secure, get out of here. I shouted to call my brother. He appeared, from nowhere. Promised be secured, I prepare my script to be completed and Beach Girl typewriter. At a police officer in the team that I ask: I know? Know, sir. Please save all the paper and my library. there are jobs Bung Karno (that time I had to finish collecting short stories Bung Karno, and correspondence Soekarno-Thamrin-Sartono still not adequate for publication). He promised to save.
They led us through the alley. The gang was walking on the side and rear surround. There is a spear, dagger, machete, a dagger. True, it does not capture tool gang invaders, instead captures the assailed. And as much as it deployed to crush one or two people. Really great make qua momentum struggle. Until majoring in a field alley behind the house, before it is mounted on the Nissan they tied my hands back and menyangkutkan to the neck, so rontaan on hand to snare the neck. Tali dies. Not the square knot is taught in scouting. Tali dies. Kind of bonding that is used to catch the first to be killed during the revolution. Of course I regret going to die in circumstances like this. More beautiful when the fighting on the ground where I live. Past the bridge next general hospital center Koptu Solomon stennya iron butt slammed in my eyes. I quickly palingkan head and iron triangle that did not work remove the eyeball but cracked cheekbone. I understand his anger, not me actually, but to his superior, because it should not come into my house. They took us to Kostrad, if I am not mistaken. Who's picket was a Lieutenant Colonel. We sent down there, and the officer I asked for the paper documentation and the library was saved. If the Government really wants to be taken, but not destroyed. He agreed. From there we were taken into a housing complex that I do not know what complex. From the window of visible gold summit monument. Then I can recognize the house; only entry not meandering through the complex, but directly from the highway, because in 1955 in the same room I have ever met Erwin Baharuddin, a former fellow prisoner at the jail Bukitduri Netherlands.
Picket took all that I take in hand, manuscripts and stationery engines, also samurai tersisipkan in socks. When she lived alone my rolex is returned, told him not to look, hide fine. we are invited into a room where the floor had menggeloyor some people. One is Daryono from a SB (SB somehow what) and a tall virgin own neighbors. Jamtangan picket that returns it to enter the room where we lay on the floor. In a large blackboard written in chalk: Down with the PKI. He went to it and delete it while humming writing: what is!
A boy held the rank of corporal, sweet-faced, over and ask this and that. I asked him what his rank. He responded with a punch and slap in the face, then leave. Approximately two hours later I see Nissan patrol arrived and unloaded the goods lowered. Some examples are placed on a table in the room where we were sprawled on the floor. I know these things: my own card file files, documentation, historical portraits, even too corny tin which I prepared for my use in the long term. So I understand the library and documentation I, labor-pains for the past fifteen years has been demolished, 5,000-volume collection of books and several tons of newspapers. The figures I got from the undergraduate library that about two years to help me. Catch-new catch kept coming. There are already not able to walk and was thrown to the floor. Then came the catch is immediately recognized me. He asked why I was covered in blood. Just at that time I realized my shirt striped-taxable bonteng own blood, as well as pants, which apparently cut stone that is thrown. It was he who told me, all my paper be transported to the military. Massa attacked and robbed of anything, to the extent that is laden mango fruit fruit shaken. Not a single cup or plate remaining. Houses bung perforation stay empty so relieved.
Never thought to have revenge on my feeling, no. Instead of remembering is one sentence from Njoto, the MWA also known: The culture and civilization, our army is low, concern, we need to improve it. I also remembered the words of another: If you get the barbarism, savagery do not give back, if able, give him justice as a teen. In 1960, inmates in RTM I get a new word of criminal world: a jerk. Now I can be a new word too: in-secure about, which means: abused, did not have anything to do with safety and security. Before that I have a standard backup when people talk to me: take no more than 50% of omongannya as true. Now I get additional benchmark: If the ruling say A, that means minus A. Can create, experience teaches.
Among those in pain on the left and right of me, where people can not and should not be helped, imagine returning African journalist - I can not remember from Mali, Ghana or Ivory Coast - the time by car to question: Is it possible Nasakom? What is not a utopia? I answered: in Indonesia needed a road. Every time the colonial time bomb could explode. That we do not want. It seems Nasakom as reality is still in development. He said: If Nasakom fail? Does not that mean the extinction of civil government, because Nasakom swept? I said: We can only try. He said again: If Nasakom swept, will no longer have the strength nationalist, religious or communist! The next dialog I have no memory.
That morning, it preceded the arrival of a group of reporters Between, no shoes, all bloody knees. Among my own uncle, R. Moedigdo, which I was riding almost 3.5 years during the Japanese occupation. He was no exception. Then I heard, they just come from CPM Guntur barracks and forced to crawl out on the gravel road. Following came to power. Military people throwing new catch it from the top deck and slammed into the ground. The room was full-packed with new catch, until the aisles. That means more moans and groans. Among them there are a number of women. Being an echo of the press who support the military has since not been arrested, unremitting menalu drum to stir the emotions of the people on the PKI and its mass organization: pubic cutting Lubangbuaya Gerwani at the generals and perform lewd dances and the like, the typical thoughts of people who never have ideals. Hair stand on end is not because I never suspected Indonesian people could make so kejinya creations.
Then comes the time of inspection. I was brought into the examination room, a round the clock, day and night filled with the roar and shriek. Also from the mouth of a woman. It's time to enter my room that was not seriuh usual. Penyetrum tools are not deployed. On the corner of an Arab-looking Marines, black, tall and slender, dingan booted foot stepping on a bare foot examined. And in between the fingers that poor boy a pencil and a hand inserted rods were then crushed the examiner with a smile and asked: What is it? There are fine squeal? In addition to the young man was me, checked by a lieutenant (or captain?) Named Nusirwan Fair.
Unexpectedly I was not accompanied by the examination of such persecution dideritakan poor youth in my left side. Examiner was calm and polite, and probably quite educated and civilized. He started with the question of why I bleed.
Answer: fall.
But that is not included in the inspection program.
Question: What is your opinion about the movement of Fortune?
Answer: do not know anything about it.
Question: What justifies the movement?
Answer: If you get a chance to learn the reality-the reality that authentik possible within five years after that I'll be able to answer that question.
Before proceeding on this examination I paste the first few things before my arrest. First: since the beginning Luckily I agree that the movement, which later was named G-30S/PKI, is a movement in the body's own army. Opinions have survived until now, well before reading the Wertheim in the Journal of Contemporary Asia. News of the pursuit and killing of increasingly numerous and pressing. Second: an intelligence officer ever came specifically to convey, that the military will play the role of PKI cats as rats. Three: two UI students have been on the streets dilynch new highway was built, still empty, around the campus. Fourth: the examination of the catches ranged on two things, first Lubangbuaya involvement in the incident, both the People's Youth membership and the PKI. Fifth: a few days before the arrest of an employee of the Balai Pustaka announced in the Daily Api Pancasila in Jakarta, that I was a man of the People's Youth. Because as she says herself staff reporter Balai Pustaka, so I came to see the director of BP - Hutasuhut that time, if I remember correctly - and had protested because the BP is used as a fort to spread misinformation about me. Director of BP rejected my protest. Employees who wrote it lived a few dozen steps from my house. In Hamka plagiarism incident he had sent a letter of defense to Hamka and only part of it I announce.
And it was my home room had borrowed for the establishment of the People's Youth branch. But that was not the only one. If the afternoon is also a back room where kindergarten (reportage about them ever written by Valentin Ostrovsky, if I do not remember the fumble). Every Thursday night the front room is used for the discussion of Group Nine Simpat discussion. Each meeting was preceded by notice to the municipality. So there is nothing that can be alleged illegal.
Sixth: someone told me, maybe also on a number of people again, if checked invent PKI members or ormasnya, yes let's face it - no matter true or not, because they did not hesitate to make people become invalid for life to be not useful for himself for the rest of his life even further. And, not everyone tsb., Can I call his name, because it is not able to remember - nearly 20 years have sodomy.
So when the examiner asked if I was a member of the PKI, I answered yes.
Question: Do believe the country will become a communist country?
Answer: Not in 40 years.
Why?
Geographical factors and konservativitas Indonesia.
That's all true contents of the subject. But as long as the detention was daily preaching Community Ambassador reportage of the raid gang to my house and the house of S. Rukiah Kertapati, where mentioned in my house found books stolen from the museum center and at home Rukiah pile of jewels, so the investigation centered on a matter of theft tsb. Indeed I once borrowed one beca magazines, newspapers and books from the museum center. What I did not return the Door Duisternis to Licht Kartini and Medan Daily Prijaji 1911 and 1912. If the file is made well, will be found, that my contribution is 10 times more numerous than in which I still borrow.
Thus, the examination is completed. Whether or not I talk this can be checked in the proces verbal, if still stored either on the relevant authorities.
If there is a difference, because, because time is too long.
Perhaps the man asked where I know there is news in the Community Ambassadors who accused me of stealing. Yes, in one morning comes a captain in the space where a group of prisoners. He immediately recognized me, instead I knew him as a sergeant in the RTM in 1960. He was tall, tan skin and upper lip suwing. I can not remember his name. One night he visited me in the room kapalselam (solitary confinement) in RTM it. Many talked, among other things he told me never joined the red army in the Madiun Affair. That morning he was a captain. Directly he asked where Sjam. That's for the first time I heard the name. But he immediately canceled the question with these words: Ah, Pak Pram writer, certainly do not know who he is. Ramahnya extraordinary, ordered his subordinates to fetch coffee and provide veldbed for me. And only the first command is executed. After he left a fat sergeant famous fierce, from Sulawesi, if no one remembers, was also a pilgrimage, called me with ramahnya and told me to read the Community Ambassadors.
Well sir, after examination of the group sent to the CPM Guntur. Before going I'm on Nusyirwan Fair to free my brother, having just arrived in Indonesia to prepare a dissertation. He luluskan my request, typed letter of exemption. Before leaving he saya titipi watches me, to use my wife's shopping.
In Guntur only to be registered and taken away what is in the pockets of the catch. Shoes up to sikatgigi and ikatpinggang. At that time I realized in my bag still contained the honorarium of Res Publika and pencil factory. All taken with reason: later in his custody so as not to be stolen. From the thunder we were taken to Salemba. The hand remains on top of neck and body should be bent, may not stand up straight, as high as the catcher. In the court of the prison yard-readable names one by one by a military man. When I arrived at my turn he stops and exclaims: Why, Pak Pram, here we meet again? Peltu (or pelda) it is bersepedamotor guards who escorted a dark-blue sedan in the month of November 1960 from the RTM Peganggsaan Peperti Jl. Budi Utomo. In the sedan, I, after being asked "interviewed" by Sudharmono, major BC Hk. And peltu or pelda in front of me in October 1965 it is Rompis.
Since then continuous deprivation of citizenship rights and my civil rights for nearly 20 years. And Bung Keith, not a single person from the manikebuis to be exposed to blister, do not lose a single sheet of paper. Even now they still live in the assumption, if the left wins. From the tower they justify any assumption that: robbery, assault, humiliation, murder. Stay alive in the egg shell of security and cleanliness, pure, fine child of the parents, and the golden boy god of victory. At least ten years I do kerjapaksa, they never single hour. It seems they are still not willing to see me live out of the gloom. When I just got home from Buru, many of which show a sweet attitude. Not playing. But after I published a BM, my, re-emerged fury.
About A.K.M. itself the first time I knew him in 1946, in a hotel in Garut. He does not know me. That time I was on a military mission. He came to the hotel and by the way with the owner. His name is still remembered, because this time he was editor of the Age Wave magazine published in Garut.
The second meeting is at Balai Pustaka, when he was still so employees Balai Pustaka controlled by the power of the Dutch occupation. After the transfer of sovereignty he became my boss in the same office - yes I am a civil servant with experience during the revolution was not recognized, because all his servants the former employees of Dutch rule. When he was living safely in Australia, it turns out he still lives in the assumption, and as the others remain small breed experience during the Soekarno-shrunk to cork floating in the corner so people like me. Fixed starting point assumption. All no one tried to confront me berdepan, from first to second I write this.
In the meantime taken from me until this moment has not been returned. My house was occupied by the military, from the rank of captain to major or Lieutenant Colonel, even the back rent to others. It was only a village house, but have a spiritual value for the family and myself. Perhaps it's no good I tell you.
Saya mendirikannya in 1958 months old. Honoraria tax is 15 percent of an author, immediately cut by the publisher. When I broadcast a protest about the high taxes of 15 percent, no more than a week later the prime minister Djuanda raising it to 20 percent, equal to the tax lottery. And also the establishment of the house through a long square off. Get-togethers before the first cubic meters of wood from up to ten ff. I plan bamboo-walled house in accordance with the power. My motorcycle, 500cc BSA motorcycle .-- military actually - also sacrificed. Suddenly the man-in-law came and denounced: why should the bamboo? It's too expensive. Following the command: wall! It was not the origin of the command. He left me twenty thousand dollars. If it exists, return it, he said again. So be the best brick house across the alley. Apparently the story did not stop there. Colleagues who could not understand, an author can build a house, start with tsk-desusnya. One side says, I've got a bribe Russia. some say China's. Close friends say I have got a bribe America. People still do not believe an author can build their own homes. They forget, in Night Market Not have I promised my dad to fix the house, in my first year out of the Dutch prison. I was doing more than what I promised, I just woke up, and in his time is best house in the entire complex, even if only a teak-paneled. (Now it is more expensive teak from the wall).
We had meninggali village house only until 1965 or 7 years old. People who are not entitled to it for almost 20 years. Fad I never asked; he replied casually: what could prove it was not giving house party? Out there. On the other got the answer: just sell the house, half to give the occupants. And I say: I have no prejudice of people who inhabit my home from class prostitute. As a result until now remained for granted.
Both, the manikebuis still not satisfied with all that I experienced. I did not have the slightest feeling of resentment. Any and all jiwai want any sensory experience, not just capital, became the foundation for an author.
What dialamai A.K.M. during Sukarno's still nothing compared to what I experienced. Event Kemayoran?
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