This Film Festival is Dedicated to

“Pak Pram” or Pramoedya Ananta Toer (6 February 1925 – 30 April 2006) Indonesia

Southeast Asia’s leading radical public intellectual and the region’s most suitable candidate for a Nobel Prize in Literature; who played a major role in Indonesia’s anti-colonial movements and nation building process with his writings, and not only opened the eyes of his fellow Indonesian but also advocated for the unity of the oppressed people of the world particularly with his novel “Anak Semua Bangsa” Child of All Nations.

(May he rest in peace.)

‫ﻳﺮﻗﺪ ﻓﻰ ﺍﻟﻘﺒﺮ‬

Music from the Movie “Gie Eross - Gie (feat. Okta) Sampaikanlah pada ibuku aku pulang terlambat waktu ku akan menaklukkan malam dengan jalan pikiranku Sampaikanlah pada bapakku aku mencari jalan atas semua keresahan-keresahan ini kegelisahan manusia Retaplah…. malam yg dingin Tak pernah berhenti berjuang pecahkan teka-teki malam tak pernah berhenti berjuang pecahkan teka-teki keadilan wu..... Berbagi waktu dengan alam kau akan tahu siapa dirimu yg sebenarnya hakikat manusia Tak pernah berhenti berjuang pecahkan teka-teki malam tak pernah berhenti berjuang pecahkan teka-teki keadilan keadilan Akan aku telusuri jalan yg setapak ini semoga kutemukan jawaban Akan aku telusuri jalan yg setapak ini semoga kutemukan jawaban ----------------------------------------Akan aku telusuri jalan yg setapak ini semoga kutemukan jawaban Akan aku telusuri jalan yg setapak ini semoga kutemukan jawaban, jawaban, jawaban Oh, Oh, Oh

Eross - Gie (English Translation) Translated by Annisa Gita Srikandini Please tell my mother That I am coming home late I need to conquer the night With my way of thinking Please tell my father I’m looking for a way out of these restlessness The restlessness of human beings Stay alone… The cold night Never stop fighting Solving the mystery of the night Never stop fighting Solving the mystery of the justice Share the time with the nature You will know who you really are The essence of human beings Never stop fighting Solving the mystery of the night Never stop fighting Solving the mystery of the justice I will walk through this path Wishing to find the answer I will walk through this path Wishing to find the answer ----------------------------------------I will walk through this path Wishing to find the answer

Cahaya Bulan Erros SO7 feat. Okta perlahan sangat pelan hingga terang kan menjelang cahaya kota kelam mesra menyambut sang petang di sini ku berdiskusi dengan alam yg lirih kenapa matahari terbit menghangatkan bumi aku orang malam yg membicarakan terang aku orang tenang yg menentang kemenangan oleh pedang perlahan sangat pelan hingga terang kan menjelang cahaya nyali besar mencuat runtuhkan bahaya di sini ku berdiskusi dengan alam yg lirih kenapa indah pelangi tak berujung sampai di bumi aku orang malam yg membicarakan terang aku orang tenang yg menentang kemenangan oleh pedang reff: cahaya bulan menusukku dengan ribuan pertanyaan yg takkan pernah aku tau dimana jawaban itu bagai letusan berapi bangunkan dari mimpi sudah waktunya berdiri mencari jawaban kegelisahan hati ha……ti……

Cahaya Bulan Erros SO7 feat. Okta (English Translation) Translated by Shantoy Hades Time goes slowly to welcome the light City light opens it hands to hold the sunset Here I am talking with whispering nature Wondering why the sun arise to warm the earth I am a night person who talks about light I am a peace loving person who goes against the sword Slowly but sure until the light comes up The ray of guts is getting closer to burn the danger Here I am talking with whispering nature Wondering why the beautiful rainbow touch the horizon I am a night person who talks about light I am a peace loving person who goes against the sword reff: the moon light throws me with thousand questions That I never know the answers Like the banging explosion wake me up from my dream It’s time to get up to find the answer of my restless heart heart...

Gie

1

Gie
Gie
Theatrical poster for Gie
Directed by Produced by Written by Starring Riri Riza Mira Lesmana Riri Riza Nicholas Saputra Wulan Guritno Robby Tumewu

Distributed by Sinemart Pictures Release date(s) 14 July 2005 Running time Country Language Budget 147 minutes Indonesia Indonesian ~ Rp10 billion

Gie is a 2005 Indonesian film directed by Riri Riza. The film tells the story of Soe Hok Gie, a graduate from University of Indonesia who is known as an activist and nature lover. The film is based on a diary Catatan Seorang Demonstran written by Soe himself. The plot of this film is an interpretation of the filmmakers, and scenes portraying Soe's private life may be partly fictionalised for dramatisation.

Plot
Soe Hok Gie grew up in a lower-middle class Chinese Indonesian family in Jakarta. In his early teens, young Gie had developed a fascination in concepts and idealisms advocated by world class intellectuals. Combined with a fighter's passion, faithfulness to friends, and a heart filled with genuine care for others and for his country, young Gie grew to become intolerant with injustice, and dreamt of an Indonesia that is truly founded on justice, equality, and righteousness. This passion was frequently misunderstood by others. Even Soe's best friends, Tan Tjin Han and Herman Lantang posed the question "What is all this fighting for?" which Soe would calmly respond with his awareness that freedom has a price tag that must be paid. Soe's motto, as written on the movie poster, is translated as "It is better to be singled out than to surrender to hypocrisy". Soe's teen and college years was spent under the regime of Indonesia's founding father Sukarno, which was characterised with conflict between the military and the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI). Soe and his friends insisted that they were politically neutral; and as much as Soe has respect for Sukarno as Indonesia's founding father, Soe detested Sukarno's dictatorship which caused the poor and the oppressed to suffer. Soe was well aware of the social inequality, power abuse, and corruption under the government of Sukarno, and courageously spoke out against it in discussion groups, student unions, and wrote sharp criticisms in the media. Soe also abhorred the fact that too many students appeared to others as advocates of positive change, who in fact were just taking advantage of the political situation to make personal gain. This attracted much sympathy as well as opposition. Many interest groups sought Soe to support their campaigns, while many enemies of Soe jump at any opportunity to intimidate him. Tan, Soe's childhood friend, had always deeply admired Soe's prudence and courage but lacked that fighter's spirit himself. In their twenties, the boys were reunited again for a short time. Soe finds out that Tan had become seduced and deeply involved with the PKI but was ignorant as to what this implied or what consequences awaited. Soe urges

Gie Tan to relinquish his ties with the PKI and hide out, but Tan did not listen. Soe and his friends spend their leisure time hiking and enjoy nature with the Nature-Loving Students of the University of Indonesia (Mapala UI). Other things they enjoyed doing included watching and analysing movies, attending traditional Indonesian performing arts, and hanging out at parties.

2

Cast
• • • • • • • Nicholas Saputra as Soe Hok Gie Jonathan Mulia as Young Soe Hok Gie Thomas Nawilis as Tan Tjin Han Christian Audi as Young Tan Tjin Han Sita Nursanti as Ira Wulan Guritno as Sinta Lukman Sardi as Herman Lantang

Additional characters
Ira and Sinta are two girls that represented the women in Soe's life. While in real life Soe did date several girls in the UI, Ira and Sinta in this movie are fictional characters because the women that were in fact close to Soe refused to make themselves known and reveal details of their relationship with Soe. Soe's diary mentioned his involvement with three women; however, it did not clearly indicate whether he was in love with any one of them. Ira was an intellectual young woman that shared Gie's idealistic dreams and fighter's spirit. Ira was Soe's best supporter and friend and present both during Gie's productive and leisure activities. Subtle hints of romance seemed to spark between the two every now and then, but neither had the nerve to follow it through. As the years unwinded, along came Sinta, an attractive girl with rich parents who admired Soe's writings. It was obvious that Gie and Sinta were physically attracted to each other, but failed to find the heart-to-heart connection. Sinta seemed to merely delight in Gie's company and the comfort and pride of being the girlfriend of a well-respected character, but did not have a genuine interest for the things that are close to Gie's heart. Vice versa, Gie was clueless about keeping Sinta entertained, and felt dissatisfied with the relationship. Sinta's presence caused a chill between Gie and Ira. The romance between Soe in the movie and Sinta may be based on Soe's closest girlfriend in real life. She was the daughter of a wealthy couple who admired Soe's work. However, as the relationship intensified, the girl's parents began to find excuses to prevent Soe and their daughter from seeing each other because the parents did not want to risk having their daughter married to a man who was struggling to make ends meet financially and was frequently the target of hate speech and other threats. In the movie, however, there was not much parental intervention portrayed or suggested in Soe and Sinta's relationship--it simply features several (often speechless) scenes of Soe and Sinta which leaves the audience to draw their own conclusions as to what may be going on at the back of Soe and Sinta's heads. Tan Tjin Han, young Soe's best friend, is in fact a fictional character. He is inspired by two personal friends of Soe, Djin Hok and Effendi. Djin Hok was the friend of Soe who experienced domestic abuse in his aunt's house, while Effendi was the friend who was abducted for his alleged involvement in the PKI. Other additional characters include Denny (a humorous and outspoken friend of Soe), Jaka (promoter of the Catholic student union who turned out to only have used politics as a means of obtaining personal gain) and Santi (a prostitute introduced to Soe as the boys' attempt to stimulate Soe to do something about his potentially romantic relationship with Ira).

Gie

3

Awards and nominations
• Official entry from Indonesia for Best Foreign Language Film at the 78th Academy Awards • In competition in the ASEAN category at the 2006 Bangkok International Film Festival • Awarded Best Film at the 2005 Indonesian Film Festival

External links
• • • •
(Indonesian) Official site
[1]

"GIE" [2] at TheBestMovieReview.com Gie [3] at the Internet Movie Database "History, Propaganda, and Perception: A Conversation on Gie" [4] at Criticine.com

References
[1] [2] [3] [4] http:/ / milesfilms. net/ ?p=97 http:/ / www. thebestmoviereview. com/ movie/ asian-movies/ 2005/ 6648/ gie http:/ / www. imdb. com/ title/ tt0459327/ http:/ / criticine. com/ review_article. php?id=9

Article Sources and Contributors

4

Article Sources and Contributors
Gie  Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?oldid=437836094  Contributors: *drew, Adri K., Alinor, Arsonal, Bobet, David Gerard, Dr. Blofeld, Eruditionfish, Flix11, Kingpin13, Lady Aleena, Lemi4, Lugnuts, Nehrams2020, PPPN7, Pegship, Plasticspork, Tranv, Wisekwai, Yandri, Zombie433, 15 anonymous edits

License
Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported //creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/

José Rizal (film)

1

José Rizal (film)
Jose Rizal
Theatrical poster of the movie
Directed by Produced by Written by Marilou Diaz-Abaya GMA Films Ricky Lee Jun Lana Peter Ong Lim Cesar Montano Joel Torre Jaime Fabregas Gloria Diaz Gardo Versoza Pen Medina Mickey Ferriols Nonong Buencamino

Starring

Music by

Cinematography Rody Lacap Editing by Distributed by Release date(s) Jess Navarro Manet Dayrit GMA Films June 12, 1998 (as part of the Philippine Centennial celebrations) December 25, 1998 (theatrical release) 178 min Philippines Tagalog, English, Spanish P 80,000,000 ($1,722,282)(estimated) 96 Million

Running time Country Language Budget Box office

José Rizal is a 1998 award-winning Filipino film biopic directed by Marilou Diaz-Abaya. It was GMA Films' entry to the 1998 Metro Manila Film Festival. It is touted as one of the biggest films ever made in the history of Philippine cinema with a record-breaking P80-million budget despite the fact that historical films are often notorious flops during that time. GMA's faith was rewarded. Released on Christmas Day, the movie packed theaters and swept awards ceremonies. The movie depicts the life of the Philippine national hero José Rizal, who was played by Cesar Montano.

José Rizal (film)

2

Synopsis
Accused of treason, Dr. José Rizal (Cesar Montano) awaits trial and meets with his government-appointed counsel, Luis Taviel de Andrade (Jaime Fabregas). The two build the case and arguments for the defense as significant events in the central figure's life prior to his incarceration unfold. Upon hearing his life story, Taviel begins to realize that the accused is not only innocent but exhibits in fact all the qualities of an ordinary man. When the mock trial unreels, Taviel is all set to act as the prime advocate for his client as Rizal himself is about to give an earth-moving speech to defend his honor and address his countrymen. Meanwhile, the Spanish authorities have worked out the vast political machinery to ensure a guilty verdict. A revolution awaits in the wings. Blood is shed when the Katipunan, founded by Andres Bonifacio (Gardo Versoza), attacks the Spaniards and Father Rodriguez who order the execution of Jose Rizal.

Cast
Below are the list of actors and actresses seen on the film José Rizal.[1]
Actor/Actress Cesar Montano Joel Torre Gloria Diaz Jaime Fabregas Gardo Versoza Monique Wilson Chin Chin Gutierrez Mickey Ferriols Pen Medina Peque Gallaga Bon Vibar Subas Herrero Tony Mabesa Alexis Santaren José Rizal Crisostomo Ibarra/Simoun Teodora Alonso Luis Taviel de Andrade Andrés Bonifacio Maria Clara Josephine Bracken Leonor Rivera Paciano Rizal Archbishop Bernardo Nozaleda, O.P. Ramón Blanco Alcocer Camilo de Polavieja Olive Role

Chiqui Xerxes-Burgos Father Villaclara, S.J.

Awards and nominations
*1998 Metro Manila Film Festival • • • • • • • • Best Picture Best Actor (Cesar Montano) Best Director (Marilou Diaz-Abaya) Best Supporting Actor (Jaime Fabregas) Best Supporting Actress (Gloria Diaz) Best Screenplay (Ricardo Lee, Jun Lana and Peter Ong Lim) Best Original Story Best Cinematography

José Rizal (film) • • • • • • • • • Best Editing Best Sound Best Production Design (Leo Abaya) Best Special Effects (Mark Ambat of Optima Digital) Best Makeup (Denni Yrastorza Tan) Best Musical Score (Nonong Buencamino) Best Movie Theme Song (Nonong Buencamino for "Awit ni Maria Clara") Best Festival Float Gatpuno Antonio J. Villegas Cultural Award.

3

*1999 FAMAS Awards • • • • • • • • • • • Best Picture Best Actor (Cesar Montano) Best Director (Marilou Diaz-Abaya) Best Supporting Actor (Jaime Fabregas) Best Cinematography (Rody Lacap) Best Editing (Jess Navarro and Manet A. Dayrit) Best Movie Theme Song (Nonong Buencamino for "Awit ni Maria Clara") Best Musical Direction (Nonong Buencamino) Best Production Design (Leo Abaya) Best Screenplay (Ricardo Lee, Jun Lana and Peter Ong Lim) Best Special Effects (Rolando Santo Domingo)

*1999 Gawad Urian Awards • • • • • • • Best Direction (Marilou Diaz-Abaya) Best Cinematography (Rody Lacap) Best Music (Nonong Buencamino) Best Production Design (Leo Abaya) Best Sound (Albert Michael Idioma) Best actress (Gorgonia Del Rivaera) Best Supporting Actor (Jaime Fabregas)

Year (Nonong Buencamino) • Production Designer of the Year (Leo Abaya) • Sound Engineering of the Year (Albert Michael Idioma) The film has been screened and ran in competition in different film festivals worldwide and included in the Official Selection for Panorama in the Berlin International Film Festival (1998). It also won 2nd runner-up in the Audience Award of the Toronto Filmfest and the Chicago International Film Festival.

José Rizal (film)

4

Media release
The series was released onto DVD-format and VCD-format by GMA Records.

References
[1] List of the José Rizal Film Cast (http:/ / www. imdb. com/ title/ tt0186257/ )

• Tenth Anniversary of Jose Rizal Film (http://www.penstalker.com/2008/ marilou-diaz-abayas-jose-rizal-celebrates-10th-anniversary/)

External links
• José Rizal (film) (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0186257/) at the Internet Movie Database

Article Sources and Contributors

5

Article Sources and Contributors
José Rizal (film)  Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?oldid=456650797  Contributors: Alternativity, Bearcat, Bloodpack, BrokenSphere, Captain-tucker, Colonies Chris, Comraderick, Dr. Blofeld, Exec8, Felipe Aira, Fluffybun, Gene Nygaard, Gurch, ISWAK3, Ianlopez1115, Imortalheze77, Jakosalem, Joseph Solis in Australia, KaElin, Kamatis.kamote, Kampfgruppe, Katipunero, Kevin nico, LionFosset, LuckyYou, MLauba, MissingNo38, Nehrams2020, Pepe alas, Pinas Central, Polylerus, Pszx, Rmosler2100, SISLEY, Searcher007, Sreejithk2000, SummerLoveRit2010, Supaagekireddo, The Evil Spartan, Titopao, TubularWorld, Uthanc, Varlaam, VictorianMutant, Wisekwai, 87 anonymous edits

License
Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported //creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/

Berkeley in the Sixties

1

Berkeley in the Sixties
Berkeley in the Sixties
Original film poster
Directed by Produced by Written by Mark Kitchell Mark Kitchell Susan Griffin Mark Kitchell Stephen Most Various artists

Music by

Cinematography Stephen Lighthill Distributed by California Newsreel First Run Features September 26, 1990 (New York City) 117 minutes United States English

Release date(s)

Running time Country Language

Berkeley in the Sixties (1990) is an award-winning documentary film by Mark Kitchell. The film features Mario Savio, Todd Gitlin, Joan Baez, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Huey Newton, Allen Ginsberg, Gov. Ronald Reagan and the Grateful Dead. The documentary highlights the origins of the Free Speech Movement and the development of the counterculture of the 1960s in Berkeley, California.[1]

Awards
Wins • 1990 Sundance Film Festival: Audience Award; 1990. • National Society of Film Critics Awards 1990: Best Documentary; 1991. Nominations • 63rd Academy Awards nominee: Academy Award for Documentary Feature; 1990.[2] • 1990 Sundance Film Festival: Grand Jury Prize; 1990.

Berkeley in the Sixties

2

References
[1] Maslin, Janet (1990-09-26). "Berkeley: Tie-Dye to Just Ties" (http:/ / movies. nytimes. com/ movie/ review?res=9C0CEFDC1F30F935A1575AC0A966958260). Review/Film (The New York Times). . Retrieved 2008-03-10. [2] "NY Times: Berkeley in the Sixties" (http:/ / movies. nytimes. com/ movie/ 4859/ Berkeley-in-the-Sixties/ details). NY Times. . Retrieved 2008-11-19.

Further reading
• Davis, R.G. (Fall, 1990). "Berkeley in the Sixties". Film Quarterly (Berkeley, California: University of California Press) 44 (1): 58. doi:10.1525/fq.1990.44.1.04a00110. • Porton, R. (1991). "Berkeley in the Sixties". Cineaste (New York City: Cineaste Publishers, Inc.) 18 (2): 31–32.

External links
• Berkeley in the Sixties (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0099121/) at the Internet Movie Database • Berkeley in the Sixties (http://www.allrovi.com/movies/movie/v4859) at AllRovi

Article Sources and Contributors

3

Article Sources and Contributors
Berkeley in the Sixties  Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?oldid=460158434  Contributors: Captain panda, Jonkerz, Lugnuts, Polisher of Cobwebs, Rich Farmbrough, Shawn in Montreal, Tim1357, Trilliumz, TubularWorld, Viriditas, Welsh, 4 anonymous edits

License
Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported //creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/

Indonesia, Volume 9 (April 1970), 225--227.

IN MEMORIAM:

SOE HOK-GIE

Ben Anderson

He was a young man, just 27, without position, and of Chinese descent. Yet, in all Indonesia, he was the first to write publicly about the thousands of political prisoners held without trial in prisons and internment camps, and about the despair of their wives and the destiny of their ostracized children. His elders had proclaimed often enough their commitment to universal humanist values—but none but he, and a few others of his generation, had the courage to defend these values at home. He had contributed more than most to the student campaign which helped to overthrow the Sukarno regime. Yet the dispossessed supporters of that regime would read his articles π in the Djakarta press and say, "Dia orang baik. He wrote his skvίpsί on the Madiun Affair in 1948, and trenchantly criticized the Communist leadership of that period. Yet, in the simple dedication opposite the title page, he wrote, "My sympathy is for all those who have sacrificed everything for the people of Indonesia, whether they stood on the left or on the right." Others attacked the corruption and hypocrisy rampant in Indonesia, but only he was willing to take the risks of naming names. For me, and I think for many others, he was much more than a trusted and loyal friend, and a courageous and compassionate man. He was in a'way a symbol of all our hopes. And those hopes were never stronger than when one was with him, listening to his rapid, staccato confidences, watching the wrinkles on his forehead which seemed so out of place under his crew-cut hair, and then following him with the eye as he would jump up to go, striding off with his unmistakable springy walk. Although the news of his death on the top of the Semeru volcano, last December 1H, seemed completely unacceptable, in a strange sense it was not out of keeping with his life. It was impossible to imagine him middle-aged, settled down, reporting to work in an office, holidaying with wife and children. Perhaps, in a way, he felt it f himself. He wrote to me last f summer: "Since graduating, I m beginning to feel gelίsah. I m teaching at the Fakultas Sastra. Mainly routine, boring duties. I feel a growing gap between myself and my old world, τ a world I love very much--the student world. Emotionally, ί m still τ τ a student, though I have a teacher s status. I m finding it difficult to adapt myself emotionally to my new condition. If τ I have no work to do, I find I can t stay at home. . . f. I f don t know whether this is just a stage, or whether it s a sign f that I ll always be gelisah, and unable to live in peace." 225

226

Living in peace . . . I believe he thought of it as giving in, abandoning hope and accepting the exhausted routine and frightened corruption he saw around him. One could sense this in the words he used so often and loved so well—beτontak 3 nekad3 berani, djudjur^ and bersih. It was because of this that he insisted on the moral role of students in Indonesian politics, and attached so much importance to the solidarity of the campus and the streets. It was because of this too that he was so bitingly scornful of those student leaders whom he felt had decided to "live in peace" by accepting positions in the appointed Parliament and the attendant perquisites. He used to refer to himself, with a smile, as an "anarchist." Evidently, a number of groups with which he had been associated had accused him of "anarchism" because he refused to play the safe, and temporizing game of tactical advantage, both under Sukarno and Suharto. Actually, I think he felt complimented. It was perhaps as an "anarchist" that he wrote to me: "I write in part simply to relieve my sense of nausea at our condition. Sometimes, though, I feel as if it's all useless. I feel f that all there is in my articles is a few firecrackers. And I d like to fill them with bombs." He was always uncomfortable when associated with authority, instinctively seeing power as the last enemy of morality. Some of his elders ascribed his attitude to adolescent rebelliousness. But I am sure that it was born from the experience of Indonesian life as he knew it. More than most of his generation, he was outraged by the ruthless exploitation of the poor and defenseless in his society: the arbitrary, illegal taxes, the land-grabbing, the extortionate usury, the casual armed brutality and the "insolence of office." He had seen enough of "authority" to be determined, if he could, to remain apart from it, whatever it was. It was typical, perhaps, he was fond of the now-banned, but legendary song Όavdh Rakjat, created by the leftist youth organization Pesindo, in the Revolution he had been to young to experience. Darah rakjat masih djalan Menderita sakit dan miskin Pada datangnja pembalasan Kita jang mendjadi hakim Hajo, hajo bergerak sekarang Kemerdekaan telah datang Merahlah pandji-pandji kita Merah warna darah rakjat Kita bersumpah pada rakjat Kemiskinan pasti hilang Kaum kerdja akan memerintah Dunia baru tentu datang But he saw himself not only as an "anarchist" but as a "modernizer." I remember very well, when we first got to know

227

one another, that he was surprised, almost incredulous, that I was anxious to learn as much as I could about traditional Javanese values and civilization. I think he saw it as typical Western "exoticism"—butterfly-hunting in the human jungle. A true child of Djakarta, he had little but contempt for an old culture, painfully disintegrating under the colonial rulers and their successors. But if he urgently wanted "modernization," it vjms because for him it meant, above all, liberation: liberation from hypocritical conventions and the degradations of accepted servitude. Being modern meant being able to stand up to those in power and see them for what they really are. On my side, I was rather surprised to discover that he was an enthusiastic mountain-climber. He had then already climbed many of the legendary mountains of Old Java: Pangrango, Gede, Slamet and Merapi. At first I put it down to a compulsion to "keep fit," perhaps in protest at the kemalasan he sometimes complained of among his fellow-students. Then one day I asked him directly. He said it was partly to latίh diri, but also because it was only on the top of a mountain that he really felt bersih. Perhaps he was within the tradition after all, in his own way.

Inter-Asia Cultural Studies, Volume 12, Number 4, 2011

Memory and nationalism: the case of Universitas Indonesia
Kemas Ridwan KURNIAWAN

ABSTRACT

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

As the only state university that bears the name of the country, the Universitas Indonesia (UI) has played an important role in the history of the Indonesian nationalist movement for over half a century. Now located at two sites, one in the center of the city and the other on the outskirts, the history of this leading state university—its architecture and location, as well as its campus life and student movement—reflects the clashes of various forces and competing ideologies. This study looks at the relationship between public space and nationalism in Universitas Indonesia in an interdisciplinary perspective. It relates architecture and urban history with the operations of power and memory in a campus, which is seen both as an arena of struggle as well as containment. In that sense the campus is a reflection of public space in a broader sense. This paper raises a question about the kind of civic space emerging from the tension between the physical structure and environment of the campuses and the inner space of campus politics and students movement. KEYWORDS : public space (place), power, memory, nationalism

Introduction On 26 February 1998, a number of students wearing yellow jackets were covering a billboard with the following inscription ‘Selamat Datang di Kampus Perjuangan Orde Baru’ (Welcome to the New Order Campus of Struggle) – see Figure 1. Hidden behind the dense trees of the Salemba campus, the billboard stood in the front yard of the historic building of the Faculty of Medicine Universitas Indonesia. The billboard and the act of covering it reflect two contradictory images of the Universitas Indonesia. On one side, the students’ initiative stands for the people’s movement in fighting for freedom and socio-political justice, and on the other side, the billboard shows how the campus had been co-opted by the political power of the New Order. What happened afterwards indicates that even up to the present, the rapidly developed university in its two campuses is still creating new spaces for ideological contestations. This paper examines the history of public spaces within Universitas Indonesia in the Post Authoritarian era by relating it to critical contexts of Indonesian history through an intersection of its space/place, time and power. Architecture and urban history serve as critical lenses to view the phenomena. The discussion of UI as the site of memory and nationalism will comprise three sections. The paper will start by giving a background of UI Salemba Campus as a site of contestation and containment in the implanting of nationalism. Next, the paper will discuss the relocation of the UI campus from Salemba to Depok as a move that mirrors the shifting national agenda. The final section will look at the post-authoritarian era and an ideological positioning, which I will term as the ‘contradictory turn’, and which has become the most recent trend. This paper argues that the campus as the nursing bed of national elite, serves as one of the most contested sites of ideological competition in defining Indonesian nationalism.
ISSN 1464-9373 Print/ISSN 1469-8447 Online/11/040532–20 © 2011 Taylor & Francis http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/14649373.2011.603917

Memory and nationalism

533

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

Figure 1. UI students covered a billboard with: ‘Selamat Datang di Kampus Perjuangan OrdeBaru’ (Welcome to the New Order Campus of Struggle) in Campus Salemba on 26 February 1998 (source: Irsyam et al. 2000: 113).
Historical revision: campus as the birthplace of national elite When we step into the entrance of UI Rectorate building,1 on the front wall of the courtyard, we will see an inscription of UI’s history, dating back to the colonial times of 1849. This may come as a surprise for a number of people who are familiar with the history of Indonesian campuses. Before 2007, based on the official national history, the birth of UI was known to be on 2 February 1950 (one year after Universitas Gadjah Mada in Yogyakarta). It was the moment when the name of the university was changed from the Dutch colonial name of Universiteit van Indonesie to the Indonesian translation, Universitas Indonesia. The Indonesianization of this university can be traced back from the tensions that happened between Dutch professors and nationalist professors on the issue of the establishment of national identity. Up to the present, 2 February is celebrated as the dies natalis day in the campus. However, in 2007, the birth of UI2 was moved back to colonial times when Dutch colonial authority established Dokter-Djawa School, a Dutch colonial medical school in Batavia on 2 January 1849, under the colonial Gubernement Act No. 22. One reason for this historical revision is that it politically strengthens UI’s national and international position as the oldest, thus the mother of state universities in Indonesia.3 To become ‘number one’ in this sense is to become the oldest. In order to understand the context of this historical revision, let us revisit architectural memory of the three periods of UI campus: the Colonial period, the Old Order, and the New Order era. The colonial era: implanting native nationalism This revisionist memory centers on an enclosed conservative colonial building near Weltevreden, (built from 1899–1901), one of the prestigious educational centers in Batavia. Old photographs of Dokter-Djawa (Javanese Doctors) School on Hospitalweg in the military compound of Weltevreden and Koeningsplein, Batavia, tell us the story of colonial campus and the growing numbers of nationalist movements in the Indies (see Figure 2).

534

Kemas Ridwan Kurniawan

This school serves as the initiation of native scholars who were chosen selectively to enter the elite circles of the Dutch establishment. They received at least the privileges of higher education (Figure 3). They were not coming from the majority of the indigenous population, but mainly from families with a high status or from the inner circle of the ruling elite.4 In fact, it was from the perspective of these intellectual elite circles that Indonesian nationalism was to be conceptualized.5

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

Figure 2.

Dokter-Djawa School in Weltevreden. 1902 (source: KITLV n.d.a).

Figure 3. Dutch teacher dressed in long white trousers, with students wearing indigenous clothing with blangkon in STOVIA School. 1902 (source: KITLV n.d. b).

Memory and nationalism

535

Dokter-Djawa School, built by the Dutch military Zeni Corps,6 looked more like a fortress or a monastery than grand modern public buildings. Activities were hidden behind thick walls and large colonial windows. After dinner at night, students continued to study until 10.00 pm. Students’ lives were separated from the surrounding public space. The clinical learning practices were done in a military hospital nearby. There was a main entrance gate to mark the intellectual space, which was materialized as an enclosed physical space. Classrooms and dormitories were arranged surrounding a courtyard and oriented towards the inside space. There was a recreatie-zaal (meeting hall) in the middle of the courtyard. In this ‘enclosed classroom’, the political discussion of nationalism, which afterwards lead the birth of Boedi Oetomo movement on 20 May 1908,7 secretly took place. The social space inside the colonial boundary did not reflect the outside architectural statement of the building. Rather, the social space was produced through student’s interaction. The dominant Western characteristic loomed large in such a public building during this time,8 in parallel with the colonial control of the public space. Roads, parks, meeting rooms, all remained under the control of the colonial power. This control was represented in education as a tight school discipline which was transformed into colonial ethics. Ironically, it was within these thick colonial walls that indigenous intellectual actors produced fresh ideas about nationality. Colonial repression ambiguously operated in parallel with the growing concern about the education of the natives in the Netherlands. The spread of the nationalist movement amongst the colonial subjects was interestingly triggered by the political changes that occurred in the Netherlands and the Dutch East Indies since the first part of the middle of the 19th century onwards until the early 20th century. The Colonial Ethical Policy (1903) was a staging post for these growing movements.9 Nationalist movements in the East Indies (Indonesia) found their unified expression after the turn of 19th century. The influence of Dutch schools and the spread of political pamphlets in the region accelerated the growth of nationalism, especially in Batavia.10 Although the spirit of nationalism had been growing long before that time, it could not be denied that, in the previous era, the spirit of nationalism was still sporadic, and the mode of resistance was limited to physical combat rather than the power of political diplomacy. With the growing need of more medical expertise in 1898, Dokter-Djawa School was changed to be STOVIA (De School tot Opleiding van Inlandse Artsen [The School of Medical Training for Native]). In 1920, STOVIA obtained a new modern building, designed by a Dutch building engineer, Ir. H von Essen, from the AIA bureau (Algemeen Ingenieurs en Architecten [General Engineers and Architects]).11 This building is located on the corner of the Salemba street. Different from the old building, which is more like a nineteenth century enclosed military compound, Essen’s design of the new building took the Dutch rationalist modernist and Nieuwe Kunst (New Art) style as its reference. This new building signified the emergence of Dutch professional building engineers and architects to design modern campuses12 and the education of young architects under the Building Technique Department in Technische-Hoogeschool in Bandung. During these times, we must acknowledge the arrival of Dutch architects to practice architecture in the Indies, mainly from TU (Technische Universiteit) Delft in the Netherlands. The Ethical Policy increased the level of openness in the Dutch colonial policies. During the early 20th century, the economic progress influenced the development of architecture and urban planning in Java and outside Java (Mrazek 2002) which triggered a more dynamic movement of people worldwide to come to the East Indies. In addition, the Ethical Policy increased Dutch concerns on the importance of incorporating indigenous socio-political culture in developing East Indies. Native cultures and traditions were put under the spotlight to be studied and to be merged with European customs in the creation of East Indies culture. Along with the increased pressure from the Dutch parliament in the Netherlands (voiced mainly by the left-wing groups) to the colonial Dutch government for improving

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

536

Kemas Ridwan Kurniawan

the quality of education in the Dutch East Indies, Hooge-School (High Schools) were established in several cities in Java, including in Batavia.13 The development of the Hooge-School in Batavia followed the model of a city, where public roads separated one Hooge-school from another. The campus became a part of the city, and public spaces connected one campus to another. Geneskundige Hoogeschool (Medical School), which was earlier called STOVIA, was founded in Salemba, Batavia, in 1927, with its new campus built from 1916–1920 (Figures 4 and 5).14 The increasing demand for doctors in the Dutch East Indies had forced the

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

Figure 4. The symbolic stone-laying by Gravin N. Van Limburg Stirum-van Simina (wife of Dutch Governor-General JP van Limburg) marked the construction of the hospital and the new STOVIA building (1916) (source: KITLV n.d.c).

Figure 5. The new building of STOVIA (furthermore Geneskundige HoogeSchool) in Salemba Road inaugurated on 1920s (source: Somadikarta et al. 2000: 31).

Memory and nationalism

537

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

Dutch to build more magnificent and complete facilities, which included a hospital and a modern laboratory. A site was chosen to the south of Tjikuini Street, on the corner of the Salemba and Menteng streets. Unlike the old building that looks like an enclosure, this new building reflected more openness and an elegant strong structure, with a modern tropical style mixed with European style. Although the influence of a European monastery was still strongly visible in this campus (there is a small monastery located behind the lecture building), each building stands apart from the others, and the buildings’ positions were adjusted to resemble a trapezium. The hospital and laboratory units were located on the side of the road to Menteng, meanwhile the lecture buildings occupied a corner of the site facing Salemba. The new STOVIA building complex became the embryo of the UI Salemba campus. Gravin N. Van Limburg Stirum-van Simina (wife of Dutch Governor-General JP van Limburg) conducted the first stone laying ceremony in 1916 and the construction was completed in 1920. The two-storey building, shaped like the letter ‘H’, was located in an area that was considered as being sufficient for the development of campus for the next 20 years. This Indies modern-styled building represented the fusion between east and west, physically manifested through a stone-temple-like architecture that had a double skin for a long walkway gallery, protecting the inner rooms from tropical weather. The social spaces emerging inside the building represented the interaction of two different cultures. According to Jessup (1985, 1989), most public edifices during this time reflected the Indo-Europesche Stijl (merging of Indies and European architectural traditions). This style underlined Dutch concerns on native welfare as well as to show the uniqueness and achievement of the Dutch East Indies, as compared with other colonialized regions. The history of the STOVIA campus shows the colonial establishment as the foundation for the emergence of some brilliant scientists in the UI history.15 The Dutch intention to create such a monument of intellectuality and to show its empathy for the education of the native population had also planted the seeds of nationalism amongst its students. Some Dutch teachers also shared sympathy for this nationalistic spirit, allowing the possibility for nationalist thoughts to spread within the controlled public spaces. In February 1928, the Youth Congress in Jakarta declared the Youth Oath, proclaiming One Land, One Nation and the support for one unifying language of Indonesia. During this historic event, the national anthem of ‘Indonesia Raya’ was released for the first time to the public.16 The Old Order: the spirit of anti-neocolonialism On the second floor of the Faculty of Medicine in Salemba, there was a small room equipped with old radio transmitters unnoticed by people who passed by. Actually, this was a temporary room for the Radio of the Republic of Indonesia (RRI), which broadcast news about Indonesian independence proclamation on 17 August 1945 across Indonesia and worldwide.17 The insertion of this RRI broadcasting room in the colonial building proved that the seeds of nationalism had existed inside this school. Two days after the Independence Proclamation of Indonesia some leaders of higher education formed BPTRI (Balai Perguruan Tinggi Republik Indonesia [House of Higher Educational Institution of the Republic of Indonesia]) in Jakarta on 19 August 1945.18 For the next several years until 1950, the name of the university underwent several changes: from Nood Universiteit (1946), to Universiteit van Indonesie (1947–1950)19 and to Universiteit Indonesia (Balai Perguruan Tinggi Republik Indonesia Serikat, 1950–1955). During this period after independence, the UI campus focused on sustaining the educational process by maximizing and fixing its administration. The Salemba campus developed dynamically and showed a pragmatic orientation. The administrative center building

538

Kemas Ridwan Kurniawan

during these times was located in Salemba 4, north of the Faculty of Medicine, in the former complex of the colonial opium storage and factory (Figure 6).20 The physical appearance was

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

Figure 6. Opiumfabriek (Opium factory) in Weltevreden in 1907 which later was converted as an extension area of UI Campus located in Salemba 4. The front building was used as UI Rector Office (source: KITLV n.d.d).
not as majestic as the adjacent Faculty of Medicine. The UI Campus in this period reflected the ad hoc and emergency condition of Indonesia. Later, in the 1970s New Order period, a modern four-storey building fashioned in international style was built, serving as the backdrop for the colonial buildings, before the old building was finally demolished for the extension of a parking lot.21 UI Salemba campus then developed without proper planning almost like a parasite, filling empty spaces in the limited site, linked by corridors and alleys that sometimes caused disorientation for people entering the building complex for the first time.22 It generally reflects the Indonesian conditions of building planning and management during the postindependence era. Built side-by-side with the colonial buildings, the Salemba campus on the north was filled in by buildings in the modern International Style (the end of the 1960’s–1970’s era), where the space in the north was limited by the unused railway line and the hustle and bustle of the Kenari Market. The campus skyline tended to be flat, and the front building line was close to the road. It made the UI Salemba campus quite crowded and also complicated, with its un-planned labyrinths. Although the condition is no longer ideal in terms of aesthetics and comfort, the chaotic state of the campus proved to be beneficial for social interaction of students, as students from one college and another could easily connect and mobilize themselves (Lubis 2008). During the Old Order regime, the UI campus witnessed and was involved in the Indonesianization process of education that resulted in the return of many of the Dutch Colonial professors to the Netherlands as they came into conflict with UI nationalist lecturers. Racist conflicts also occurred with Chinese lecturers who had connections with left-wing or

Memory and nationalism

539

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

Communist ideologies. The growing influences of the Communist Party to the State made UI nationalist professors worry about the appeal of communist ideology to the students. Baperki, a leftist organization founded Universitas Res-Publica in Tomang, Jakarta, which soon became a site for ideological contestation.23 The conflicts between UI nationalist lectures with communist ideology climaxed when several UI Lecturers24 were forced to resign from UI due to their involvement in the signing of the Cultural Manifesto (a declaration supporting universal humanism) by 20 artisans and intellectuals. This manifesto was in opposition to the Political Manifesto (the declaration that politics is in command of culture) issued by Lekra (Lembaga Kebudayaan Rakyat [People Cultural Institute]) which was affiliated to PKI. During this period, the anti-neocolonial and revolutionary spirit was infused by the regime and this influenced the campus life.25 The powerful rhetorical style of Soekarno, the Old Order leader, and his political orientation was strong enough to shift the people’s attention from economic issues to the dream of national pride. Under Soekarno’s government, Indonesia’s image as a big nation was not shown through the development of formal education, but through political jargons and symbolic architectural beacons and monuments.26 For example, in the Koeningsplein (Queen Square), which served as Soekarno’s new capital city’s center; he built the National Monument as a large public space area. Soekarno replaced the old memory of the colonial public space with a new memory of a national public space that represented a version of modern Indonesia.27 This Old Order regime ended after the climax of political conflicts of ideologies in 1965. The Soekarno Guided Democracy and his obsession to unite three ideologies known as NASAKOM (Nationalism, Religion and Communism) went asunder with the incident of 30 September Movement (G 30 S), the killing of six army generals in Jakarta, an event that was turned into a year-long communist cleansing upheaval.28 The chaotic situation resulting from the multi-dimensional crisis had propelled student activists to initiate a movement to overthrow the Old Order Regime. Known as Exponent ‘66, students from various high school and campuses in Indonesia organized under KAPPI – Kesatuan Aksi Pemuda Pelajar Indonesia (Unified Action of Indonesian Youth and High

Figure 7.

Black flag displayed by students as a protest for the act of NKK/BKK 1978 (source: Somadikarta et al. 2000: 198).

540

Kemas Ridwan Kurniawan

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

Figure 8.

Armed forces enter UI campus in Rawamangun, 1978 (source: Irsyam et al. 2000: 111).

Schools Students) and KAMI – Kesatuan Aksi Mahasiswa Indonesia (Unified Action of Indonesian University Students). They launched massive demonstrations in front of the Salemba Campus, which also spread to the Presidential Palace, voicing Tritura – Tiga Tuntutan Rakyat (Three People Demands). The three demands were for the banning of PKI and its underbouw, the dissolution of the Dwikora cabinet (100 ministers cabinet) and the reduction of prices for food and clothing.29 Soekarno, who also lost control over the Army, was forced to hand over his power to Soeharto, the KOSTRAD military commander (Komando Strategis Angkatan Darat [Army Strategic Command]), under the controversial mandate called Supersemar – Surat Perintah Sebelas Maret (Letter of Command of the Eleven March). Later, Soeharto was elected by the People Representative’s Council as the second President in 1967, a historic landmark, which started the New Order era. New Order: containment and campus ‘normalization’ During the New Order era, student demonstrations occurred to criticize Soeharto’s militaristic and economic dominance to secure his power. The photographic image of students gathering in the front yard of the Faculty of Medicine in UI Salemba Campus displaying a black flag (Figure 7), symbolizes the death of academic freedom under the New Order regime. In 1978, The Ministry of Education under the presidential decree imposed the NKK/BKK policy (Campus Life Normalization/Student Coordinating Body) (Figure 8). The campus was sterilized from political criticism and freedom of speech. Politically-oriented student activities were banned, suspected activists were expelled, and the campus activities were to focus only on educational and research activities. The New Order regime founded the political party named Golongan Karya (Golkar) as its political vehicle to control Parliament, government organizations, civil servants, and campuses. Pancasila ideology was tailored to serve as the credo to serve the regime’s interest

Memory and nationalism

541

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

and any memory connected with the other ideologies and other thoughts – which included communism, Chinese cultures, Islamic political activism and even Soekarno’s figure and thoughts – were banned from the public domain, including in the campuses. The normalization of campus life was carried out by the government using military operations to handle civil actions, especially to repress student’s activism and demonstrations. Soeharto’s regime replaced people’s memory of freedom with the memory of violence and trauma. The resistance through protests by the civitas academica (students, alumni, teachers and staff) faced military force, which caused many victims. The New Order regime considered the campus as a black-listed arena, with student activists jailed as traitors against the State. Government surveillance on educational life allowed students to run a ‘street parliament’, but many activists ran an underground movement.30 Public space that should have become a protest space was controlled and any opposition voices wiped out (Saroso 2002). The campus became a space for containment and contestation. Under the New Order regime, the containment was directed against particular citizens in different categories. For instance, among the most watched category were citizens who had connections with the Communist ideology, albeit remotely, for instance through their families’ previous connections to the banned Communist Party’s activities. Another stigmatized group was Indonesians of Chinese descent. The governments enforced them to assimilate by giving away their Chinese names. Chinese language and cultures were banned from public spaces, including in the campus spaces, resulting in the deterioration of some departments, such as Chinese Studies. The regime also put pressure on the Islamic Movement, which was categorized as dangerous for the Pancasila ideology. Campus mosques were put under surveillance by intelligence agents. The UI campus, co-opted by the New Order regime, was named as the ‘Kampus Perjuangan Orde Baru’ (the New Order Campus of Struggle). Arief Rahman Hakim, a student killed during the 1966’s protest against the communist party, was commemorated by the New Order regime as the Hero of Amanat Penderitaan Rakyat (The Mandates out of the People’s Suffering). The New Order recognized this moment as an influential symbol of the establishment of the New Order era. Interestingly, the majority of New Order members’ cabinet were UI alumni and Professors from Exponent ‘66. Relocating to the edge The relocation of the new campus in 1987 transformed the typology of the campus master plan from a limited and densely packed campus in the city center to a wide and almost empty site in the southern edge of Jakarta (about 350 ha), where daily trains connecting two cities, Jakarta and Bogor, pass regularly through the location (Figure 9). The idyllic image of the green pastures at the Depok Campus is in great contrast to the crowded urban Salemba Campus. After this relocation, most of the other Indonesian new campuses were built outside the bustling city centers.31 This move was part of the government’s policies to reduce the concentration of the city’s population to create new centers of education and economic activities. The New Order government was hoping to replace the old campuses of a nationalistic era with new, politically tamed campuses.32 This new campus will be like the Garden of Eden of Sciences, where students and faculty were pampered by the calm and open green environments. In that way, both the faculty and the students could better focus on educational rather than political activities and street demonstrations. Additionally, since its location was far from the center of the New Order establishment,33 it would decrease the threat of student protests against the government. Different from the Salemba city campus, the UI Depok campus was designed to be a model of an integrated city that served its own needs. The master plan of UI Depok campus was designed by a UI team led by three selected UI Architecture Department

542

Kemas Ridwan Kurniawan

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

Figure 9. New Campus UI (1987) is located on the edge of Jakarta, on a wide area united by green trees as symbols of the Indonesian archipelago that are united by the sea (source: Irsyam et al. 2000: 150).

Figure 10. Centrum area as a reflection Tunggal Ika becomes University Administration Center, Community Center, and worshipping area (source: Kusno 2000: 86).

Memory and nationalism

543

teaching staff, namely Gunawan Tjahjono, Triatno Judo Harjoko, and Budi Adelar Sukada. They had just returned and had completed their Master programs in the United States and the United Kingdom in the first quarter of the 1980s.34 Based on a request from the UI Rector Noegroho Notosusanto who was then also acting as Minister of Education and Culture, the team designed a campus that could reflect the characters of ‘Indonesia’.35 The team translated this initial keyword into the building typology and landscape zonings representing the State philosophy of Bhineka Tunggal Ika (or Unity in Diversity). According to the team, the new UI campus would represent the cultural geography of all provinces in Indonesia, and not represent only one single province (Figure 10). The master plan of the campus consists of two main areas: the centrum and the periphery. The centrum is the location of the administrative power (consisting of the Rectorate, the main auditorium called the Balairung and the Mosque) symbolizing the uniting center of Tunggal Ika. The Edge is allocated for the various faculty buildings as the manifestation of Bhineka (diversity). The highest building in the campus and also the most prominent is the high-pitched eight-storey Rectorate Building (designed by Gunawan Tjahjono), which represents the power of the university’s authority and also a traditional symbol of wisdom. The importance of the UI Rectorate building to represent the University is reflected through the use of its image as the campus logo. This design suggests the thrust in managing campus life: the center of the campus is not the library as the source of knowledge production, but the rectorate building as the controlling administrative center. Meanwhile, the faculty buildings follow two archetypal forms, which are considered as the basic traits of Indonesian traditional houses, the linear and the centered forms. The linear forms are used for studying and research activities, while centered forms are used for administrative and public functions. These faculty buildings are arranged according to particular zoning divisions based on anthropological and environmental cultures, reflecting knowledge disciplines. The physics, social science and humanities are put in the eastern areas, and the natural-environment and built-environment disciplines are located in the west.36 This postmodern reinterpretation of the traditional architectural style grabbed people’s attention, as the President officiated the ceremony for the removal and inauguration of the university in 1987. Screen images and print media of the campus architecture spread across the country and soon became the new identity of Indonesian architecture. In addition, the planting of thousands of trees to create greenery to connect one faculty buildings and another also symbolizes the close connection of nature-traditional culture, adopted as the New Order political symbols (Kusno 2000).37 The relocation of the campus also displaced the memory of violence and trauma, which was the New Order’s main intention to strengthen its power and to repress its enemies and opposition. Far from the hustle bustle of the political center in Jakarta, the Depok Campus and its facilities was meant to depoliticize the students. The location between one Faculty and another is far enough, making it difficult for students to gather. Even Nugroho Notosusanto, the Rector at that time, also requested that the enforcement of roads and parking lanes in the UI should use permanent materials, and not from materials that could be easily removed, such as concrete blocks. This showed that the Rector was worried about the potential political resistance and violence (the use of concrete as throwing rocks) done by students. It was an effort to disassociate the campus from the image and memories of its function as an agent of change and critical power. The 1990s saw the growth of the economy reflected in the development of the city and the dynamic urban spatial experience. Shopping malls, office towers and real estate developments were built in parallel with the new urban roads, a condition that was criticized by Dovey (1999) for having marginalized the poor in the public space. According to Dovey,

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

544

Kemas Ridwan Kurniawan

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

Jakarta ‘presents one of the worst pedestrian environments in urban history’ (Dovey 1999: 123). This decade also saw changes in government political orientation in order to get closer to Islamic ideology (towards the right or the ‘green’ wing). Moslem intellectuals and lecturers became the supporters of ICMI (Ikatan Cendekiawan Moslem Indonesia [Indonesian Moslem Intellectual Association]). However, the corruption and nepotism that happened in Soeharto’s government had weakened Indonesian economic conditions, especially when 1997’s world economic crisis badly hit Indonesia. This situation forced Soeharto to continue to work with the International Monetary Funds (IMF) and the World Bank to handle the economic crisis in Indonesia. With political opportunists in his cabinet, Soeharto’s popularity worsened, and he lost the trust of his people.38 This condition reached its climax in 1998, triggered by the Trisakti incident, when some university students protesting against the regime were killed by military guards, inciting mass riots in many cities in Indonesia. In mid-May, Soeharto resigned and handed-over state power, which he had held for 32 years, to his Vice President, B.J. Habibie. Post-authoritarian campus: the contradictory turn The Reformation Era challenged UI’s ambiguous political position vis-à-vis the status quo. The covering of the UI billboard marked the end of UI’s role as the supporter of the New Order. Central Government intervention in campus life was reduced and the atmosphere of openness began. Since 2000, a new campus administrative system started to operate. The highest representative body of the University was not the Rector or Ministry anymore, but Majelis Wali Amanat (Mandatory Representative Council) whose members were elected by the civitas academica. Besides the introduction of a transparent, democratic governance of the campus, the university also earned a new autonomy through BHMN status (State Owned Law-recognizable Body) in 2000, which gives authority to UI and some other top Indonesian universities to independently manage their finances. The new status, which allows the university to generate revenue to fund its operation, soon brought changes to the physical environment. In no time at all, hyper-mart chains, restaurants, and other commercial activities filled up the spaces between the faculty buildings at the campus’s edge. However, the openness of UI for commercial business, minus centralized financing, made the campus a site of commercial competition between faculties, each governing their financial affairs independently, causing a disjuncture between the most enterprising faculties (economy and medicine), and the poorest (the ‘pure’ sciences, and humanities). A concerted effort was initiated by the Rector to control this free market tendency through the ‘one gate’ financial policy, which was not without resistance from the financially stronger faculties. The ‘free market’ spirit gave the campus a new impetus to compete in the global market. With the motivation to be a world class university, the campus started to refashion itself to follow global trends, which was manifested in vast physical changes in the 10 years after the reformation. The first action, in line with the new UI master plan,39 was the Rector’s initiative to have bicycle tracks encircling the Depok Campus, to initiate a healthy campus life (Figure 11). The Rector also changed the Centrum area to be a large community center. A new modern Campus Central Library, designed with the theme of ‘Crystal of Knowledge’ and dominated by a green landscape, won a design award.40 Faculties’ libraries were dissolved and their collections were moved to a Central Library. This new library is located behind the Rectorate building facing UI Kenanga Lake and looks alien amongst the dominant New Order postmodern-traditionalist architecture around it. But its huge scale balances and reduces the dominant skyline of the Rectorate building from certain vantage points.

Memory and nationalism

545

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

Figure 12. Figure 11. Cycling track (photo by author).

UI New Central Library, 2009 (source: Humas UI 2009).

In contrast to the monolithic image of the Rectorate building, this new building is dispersed into several crystal masses (representing monumental inscriptions) sitting on the hilly-green platform. The green sustainable architecture theme reflected in the new Central Library becomes UI’s new thematic icon, inserted between New Order architectural edifices (Figure 12). Another concept highlighted in this world campus project is UI as a cybercampus. In addition to 24-hour Internet facilities, the university converted all manual administrative processes into an online one, which was more painstaking for the administrative staff than the cyber-tuned students. For the younger urban generation, the virtual media had served as a new alternative public space, as student interaction was not only done through physical space, but also through the virtual spaces of Facebook and Twitter. These virtual spaces were in contrast to the other face of UI, as the social public arena for Depok inhabitants. Every weekend, many Depok residents took advantage of the UI green outdoor spaces as places of relaxation and recreation. Previously marginalized by the New Order to the outskirts of Jakarta, the campus had grown to be the center for the Depok development. Depok in the past was known as a deserted, low-income residential area. With the moving of a number of universities to the area, its main street, The Margonda Strip, and its surroundings are now filled with shopping malls, shop-houses, retailers, factory outlet chains, and exclusive real estates. UI offered the only wide and comfortable open public space along this strip for weekend relaxation for the residents of Depok city. While the UI landscape serves as a green environment and inclusive social space for the wider public, the lifestyle of the campus civitas academica is considered to be exclusive. The university has now become another city within a city (Suganda and Kurniawan 2009). The line of expensive cars parked in the campus suggests that the students aspire to a metropolitan lifestyle. While the campus was accelerating the development of its world-class image – and in the process coordinating internally its capital flow – dissolute students and civilians took the initiative to appeal the financial autonomy status of the university to the judicial court, claiming that the state university has veered from its original role to give affordable education to citizens. In a rare, historic moment in the history of Indonesian democracy, the civilian appeal won, over a state university. Following the judicial verdict, in 2010, the Government abolished the Government Act No. 152 Year 2000 about UI status as a BHMN (Badan Hukum Milik Negara – State Owned Law-recognizable Body), replacing it with Government Act No. 66 Year 2010 about the management and implementation of education in Indonesia, in

546

Kemas Ridwan Kurniawan

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

particular concerning a State Higher Education Institution. The change of status means that the level of financial autonomy given to the University will be reduced, but the power of the Rector was increased to be a representative of the Ministry (Government).41 This decision put the position of the university in limbo, as it has to revert back to its state university status. What occurred in the UI case shows that the processes of democratization in Indonesia could incur contradictory results in terms of both political and financial autonomy. Secondly, the case shows the weakening of the post-Soeharto state, one that falls at the mercy of populist pressure. The weakening of the state also signals the new phase of the UI campus. The campus – which used to be the center of the New Order ideology – has now become the site for contestation of competing ideologies and interests. In terms of capital, different banks vie against each other in winning over different faculties. Banners and advertisements are spread across the campus, from secular activities to most conservative religious slogans. Political parties, which used to be ‘sterilized’ from the campus during the New Order, have entered through student bodies. From a site of containment and depolitization, UI has become the very site of a political arena. Unfortunately, the relaxation of political repression on campus life and the entrance of political forces into campus life, has not been accompanied by the growth of critical minds within the ‘inner space’ of the campus. In contrast to the New Order era, when UI students gathered in massive number to protest against the government, using the Salemba Campus as its base, presently only limited numbers of student are interested in voicing critical perspectives towards the status quo. Instead, students are diversified and geared by different political groups using identity politics, the strongest of which is conservative Islamic groups, which use the issue of morality as its campaign. Conclusion It is clear that from colonial era until today, UI became the arena of contestation and containment through the construction of its national history and memory from one period to another. The history of the UI campus exemplifies control over intellectuals and the production of knowledge, as well as resistance towards this kind of control. In the colonial period, the Dutch planned to prepare educated elites to serve its establishment, but instead the campus bred nationalist fighters. In the post-independence era, Soekarno wanted to use the campus to support its anti-colonial and NASAKOM’s policy, but instead the exponent ‘66, supported by the segment of military, toppled him. Soeharto used the campus to support economic developmentalism and at the same time politically contained it, yet its students’ movement ended his 32-year regime. The political and ideological contestation above is inscribed in the physical space of the campus. The Dutch architectural practices in the Indies during the end of nineteenth century still showed the limited involvement of professional architecture practitioners. Most of building designs and constructions during these times were done by BOW (Burgeleijke Openbare Werken [Department of Public Works]), Dutch and Chinese annemer (building contractors) and military officers (zeni corps). That is why the aesthetic appearance of the Dokter-Djawa school did not reflect the beauty of architectural design but expressed more the Dutch colonial expression of a non-tropical medieval fortress. The history of the campus shows a marked contradiction between the physical space and the inner social space that emerged from it. The Dutch style enclosure of the early Weltevreden campus, which separated the elitist few from the public was filled by a social inner space that, in fact, connected the elite with the wider nationalist cause. Meanwhile, the new Salemba campus showed the contrasting images of two architectural styles, between the grand modern rationalism of the early twentieth century Medical School, designed by Dutch colonial

Memory and nationalism

547

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

architect H. von Essen, and the simple converted opium factory of Rectorate building and its adjacent new Faculties. The transition from the Colonial and Independence eras showed the unplanned development of the UI campus Master Plan that continued until the period of two postcolonial Orders. The ‘parasitic’ and chaotic additions of one building after another in the pre-independence period in one way reflected the ad hoc and emergency condition of Indonesia. However, the labyrinth within the Salemba campus served as the connecting corridors of social and political space. The relocation of the new UI campus to the outskirts of Jakarta, Depok, in 1987, marked the emergence of postmodern traditionalist architecture in Indonesia. The marginalization of the campus to Depok in the New Order period reflected the political containment of student life. Yet from the physical distance and the political repression viewpoint, the mass of critical student bodies emerged to act as an agent of change in the Reformation movement. The vast development of the Depok campus was in line with the corporatization spirit and the democratization era. The new UI Central Library gives ‘Green Architecture’ nuances inserted between dominant postmodern New Order edifices. It also balances the skyline, and the domineering UI Rectorate building. Meanwhile, the weakness of the state in facing populist pressure has resulted in the reversion of the university back to the status of a government body. In the meantime, the absence of the state in campus life, however, was replaced by contentious ideologies and identity politics. The campus, which has served as the seed of nationalism during the colonial time, participated in giving new meanings of nationalism – sometimes in line with the dominant version of the political authority of the ruling regime, and at critical times helping to resist and replace it with a new vision. However, the post Soeharto era shows an erosion of nationalistic vision, as global forces compete within the campus, in terms of capital as well as global religious and political ideologies. The changes occurring at the UI campus are significant because this oldest and most prominent university in the capital city of Jakarta – one that bears the name of the country – has served as a model for other state universities in the country. The move of the UI campus to the outskirts of the city, for example, was followed not only by other universities in Jakarta, but also by other universities all over the country. UI as a state university has so far served as a human resource factory in supplying the Indonesian elite of the capital and the region. The historical dimension of the university in this paper therefore is a lens to understand what is occurring in modern Indonesia. The paper dispels the romantic ideal of a campus as a solid agent of social transformation and democratization. In fact, internally, the campus serves as the site of complex contestation of power, which can inhibit its transformative power. The UI billboard in front of the Salemba Medical Faculty building, which was covered by the students during the reformation period, still stands in place today. The billboard now says: ‘The campus of struggle’, as the words ‘New Order’ have been erased. The question to be asked is: ‘Whose struggle is it and what will be at play in the campus?’ Acknowledgement In 2008, Department of Architecture and Department of Humanities Universitas Indonesia held a seminar on ‘Nationalism, Public Space, and Collective Memory within Indonesian Context’ to commemorate 100 Years of National Resurgence within the country. At that time, we presented our paper that reviews the periods of the national movement in UI campus from colonial times until the New Order Period, based on descriptive narrative writing (Kurniawan 2008). This article is rewritten from the previous paper with new angles and perspectives. Special thanks to Melani Budianta and Hilmar Farid for their input to the paper. I would also like to show my appreciation to KITLV (Royal Netherlands

548

Kemas Ridwan Kurniawan

Institute of Southeast Asian and Caribbean Studies) at Leiden for their permission to publish several images from their collections. Notes
1. Designed by Ir. Gunawan Tjahjono, PhD, professor at the Architecture Department, Faculty of Engineering, UI, in 1985. 2. Since 2000, UI status was changed and became Badan Hukum Milik Negara – BHMN (Autonomy State Owned Public Institution), the intervention of central government was not as strong as before. Rector was elected and obtained a mandate from selected members of Majelis Wali Amanat – MWA (University Representatives Council). The authority of Rector was strong enough and must be in coordination with MWA. 3. Some Faculties in UI became the embryo for several state universities in Indonesia such as Technische Hoogeschool (Technology High School) and Faculteit der Exacte Wetenschap (Faculty of Exact Science) in Bandung to become Institut Teknologi Bandung (Bandung Institute of Technology), Faculteit van Landbouwwetenschap (Faculty of Agricultural Science) and Faculteit der Diergeneeskunde (Faculty of Veterinary) in Buitenzorg (Bogor) to become Institut Pertanian Bogor (Bogor Farming Institute), Faculteit der Economishe Wetenschap (Faculty of Economical Science) in Makassar to become the embryo of Universitas Hasanuddin in Ujung Pandang, Faculteit der Geneeskundige (Faculty of Medicine) in Surabaya to become the embryo of Universitas Airlangga in Surabaya, and Faculty of Teaching and Education in Jakarta to become IKIP Jakarta which later became Universitas Negeri Jakarta (Jakarta State University). 4. For further reading please see van Niel (1960). 5. For further reading, please also read Kahin (1952) who criticized the system of Dutch education in the Indies for only producing Indonesian middle class working as civil servants in the Dutch government. He also pointed out that the Dutch educational system lacked entrepreneurship and capitalist characteristics to generate the economy in the East Indies. 6. The lack of professionally educated architects working in the East Indies government at that time was very clear, as most of the public buildings were designed and built by military officers or aannemer (contractors) who did not have proper architectural knowledge. 7. Many members of this movement (Boedi Oetomo) then indulged in national politic struggle to give voice to indigenous people through Volksraad (People Council), such as Dr Soetomo, Dr Wahidin Soediro Husodo and Dr Cipto Mangunkusumo. 8. Please see Jessup (1985, 1989) regarding the Dutch colonial perspectives of the European sense on Monumentality, and also Sudradjat (1991) regarding colonial architecture historiography. 9. For further reading, some books such as Cribb (1994) will be helpful to gain insights on colonial concerns on the Natives. See also Gouda (1995) for the growing nationalism among the natives. 10. Limited numbers of social books were distributed amongst the students at those times, and the growing numbers of native literary interests were manifested through the founding of Commissie voor de Volkslectuur (Committee for People Reading) by the Dutch Indies government in 1908, which was later changed into Balai Poestaka in 1917. These phenomena reflected some conditions of the expansion of modern Indonesian education during those times. 11. Ir. H von Essen, together with architect Ir. F.J.L Ghijsels and aannemer F. Stolz. founded AIA in 1916 in Batavia. For further reading please read Sumalyo (1995). 12. We acknowledge an Indies architect Maclaine Pont, born in Meester Cornelis in Batavia, who had designed the initial Technische Hoogeschool campus in Bandung in 1918. He graduated from TU Delft in the Netherlands. 13. Technische Hoogeschoool (THS – Engineering College) in Bandung 1920, Rechtshoogeschool (RHS – Law College) in Koeningsplein Batavia 1924, dan Geneskundige Hoogeschool (Medical College) in Salemba Batavia 1927. 14. It replaced the old STOVIA campus in Hospitalweg Weltevreden. Next to the new school, the colonial government also built Centraal Bugerlijk Ziekenhuis (CBZ) – or Cipto Mangunkusumo Hospital today, which functioned as an education hospital. 15. It was recorded that from this building came a 1929 Nobel prize receiver with Dutch Nationality, Professor Christiaan Eijkmann, who found the connection between vitamin B1 deficiency and beri-beri disease. 16. The Youth Oath text was read on Jl. Kramat 106 Jakarta, which is now Museum Sumpah Pemuda. 17. The historic building of the Faculty of Medicine in Salemba, where this room is located, is now undergoing conservation work. This building was put on the A-grade Heritage list on 12 December 1983 by the Department of Education and Culture Indonesia due to its historical value in Indonesian history.

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

Memory and nationalism

549

18. Under BPTRI, two High Schools in Jakarta, the main Rechtshoogeschool and Geneskundige hoogeschool, were changed to the Law/Literature School and the Medical School. 19. During the Clash Action with the Dutch, Universiteit van Indonesie was temporarily moved and operated from Yogyakarta until the capital city was returned to Djakarta in 1949. Later, in Yogyakarta, the government founded Universitas Gadjah Mada. 20. It showed that, previously, Batavia had become the center of opium and candu trading, which was one of the colonial main economic businesses legally acknowledged by the Dutch government. 21. The post-independence UI Masterplan and buildings in Jakarta were mostly developed during the New Order era by architects such as Ir. Soewondo B.S., Ir. Utomo B., Ir. Alibasyah S., Ir. Sujudi, Ir. Tato S., Ir. Diyan Sigit, etc. 22. In fact, no buildings in Salemba 4 obtained building permissions from the local authority except Arief Rahman Hakim Mosque, built in 1967. 23. This university, located in Tomang West Jakarta, was dissolved by the New Order and changed to be a private university under the name of Universitas Trisakti. 24. UI lecturers who also signed the Manifesto included H.B. Jassin, and Boen Sri Oemarjati. See Irsyam et al. (2000: 102). 25. For further reading see Lubis (2008). 26. See also Anderson (1980). 27. For further reading, see Kusno (2000). 28. The incident was allegedly seen as a revolutionary act by the Indonesian Communist Party. Soekarno’s power was then supported by his leftist Marhaenists (Marhaenism – the name derived from a poor farmer, namely Marhaen who inspired Soekarno to adopt an idea about Marxist proletarian in Indonesia) followers, Partai Nasional Indonesia – PNI (Indonesian National Party), and also his close connection with Communism and with the Indonesian Airforce. There have been various interpretations about the motives behind the killing, one of which is the internal power struggle within the military. See Ricklefs (1991: 281). 29. In this demonstration, UI activist Arief Rahman Hakim was killed and this incident also triggered the anger of the mass to overthrow the Old Order Regime. Arief Rahman Hakim was hailed as the Hero of Ampera – Amanat Penderitaan Rakyat (People’s Struggling Mandate) by the New Order. 30. For further reading, see Gie (1983) and Aspinall (1993). 31. It was noted that several other establishments also removed their main campuses outside the city center, such as IPB, Universitas Padjajaran, and ITS. 32. The idea to build a new UI campus on the outskirt of Jakarta had been in place since the Old Order period. In 28 September 1965, Soekarno laid the symbolic stone signifying the construction of new UI campus at Ciputat. However, two days later, there was the G.30.S incident, and the UI campus at Ciputat was never realized and its land was converted to UI lecturers’ housing. 33. Soeharto’s Presidential Office of Binagraha was located next to Merdeka Palace in Monas Square. He lived in Cendana Street, an exclusive quarter of Menteng area in Central Jakarta. 34. According to the team, there was also one Civil Department teaching staff, namely Ir. Hinurimawan, who also was asked by the Dean at that time, Ir. F. Boy Mawengkang, to return to Indonesia after finishing his overseas study to handle the new UI campus project. For further reading see Tjahjono and Sukada (2007). 35. According to Gunawan Tjahjono from the Design Team of UI Depok campus: ‘Campus came from the Latin campus which means field. The term was then influenced by the Ancient French and later English. In English, the campus became ‘camp’ which means “the temporal living space for soldier” (Webster’s II New Riverside University Dictionary). The campus term used for a university complex is an American tendency, in which its university location tends to be far away from the bustle of dense cities. The campus term is shown and placed on the milieu of a wide field, excluded from the bustle of urban life (Turner 1984). By centering its activities on a site, campuses in America turned out to be an example for other universities and higher educational institutions, such as institutes. Nowadays the campus becomes a term associated with the university complex; nevertheless, its site is in the middle of the city or far from the bustle of the city’ (Tjahjono and Sukada 2007: 1). For further reading please also see Widyarta (2007: 50–53). 36. For further reading see Tjahjono and Sukada (2007). 37. Taman Mini Indonesia Indah project (initiated by the late First Lady Ibu Tien Suharto in 1973) resembled this search for an Indonesian architectural identity, where selected Indonesian traditional architectural styles were simulated and disseminated to represent a ‘miniature of Indonesia’. It was during this New Order period that architectural images tended to be uniform in their traditionality. For instance, the uniform Mosque built by Yayasan Amal Bhakti Muslim Pancasila during 1980s to 1990s, took a Javanese Demak Mosque as its prototype.

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

550

Kemas Ridwan Kurniawan

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

38. For further reading see Aspinall (2005). 39. There is a master plan that is made once every 10 years, namely 1987, 1997 and 2008, referred to for guidance for the development of the campus. Although not visible, a selected team called the Tim Penataan Lingkungan Kampus (Campus Environment Regulating Team), which consists of representatives from the UI governing structure and Department of Architecture Faculty of Engineering UI served as the guardian of the building process. The function of this team was to provide input to the UI authority about physical developments in UI. The team’s activity was temporarily suspended between 2002–2007 due to their critical views that were regarded as hampering the development of the Campus by the UI authority. 40. The winning design is from DCM Architectural Consultants, where some UI alumni worked on this design. UI also initiated the World Green Metric schemes for universities around the world to be accredited, based on some ‘green’ parameters. 41. In the meantime, while this paper was being written, DPR (Dewan Perwakilan Rakyat [People Representative Council]) was drafting a new RUU (Rancangan Undang-Undang [Law Draft]) for Higher Education, which will propose more flexibilities for the state university to govern its own administration and management.

References
Anderson, Benedict (1980) Language and Power: Exploring Political Cultures in Indonesia, Ithaca: Cornell University Press. Aspinall, Edward (1993) Student Dissent in Indonesia in the 1980s, Victoria: Monash Asia Institute. Aspinall, Edward (2005) Opposing Suharto: Compromise, Resistance and Regime Change in Indonesia, Hawaii: Stanford University Press. Cribb, Robert (ed.) (1994) The Late Colonial State in Indonesia, Political and Economic Foundations of the Netherlands’ Indies 1889–1942, Leiden: KITLV Press. Dovey, Kim (1999) Framing Places: Mediating Power in Built Form, London: Routledge. Gie, Soe Hok (1983) Notes of a Demonstrant (Catatan Seorang Demonstran), Jakarta: The Institute for Research, Education and Information for Economy and Social (Lembaga Penelitian, Pendidikan dan Penerangan Ekonomi dan Sosial – LP3ES). Gouda, France (1995) Dutch Culture Overseas: Colonial Practice in the Netherlands’ Indies 1900–1942, Netherlands: Amsterdam University Press. Humas UI (2009) UI Update, Depok: Humas (Public Relation Office) UI. Irsyam, Tri Wahyuningsih M., Oemarjati, Boen S. and Somadikarta, S. (2000) The Golden Years of Universitas Indonesia, 3rd series: Works and Loyalty (Tahun Emas Universitas Indonesia, Jilid 3: Karya Bakti), Jakarta: UI Press. Jessup, Helen (1985) ‘Dutch architectural visions of the Indonesian tradition’, Muqarnas 3: 138–161. Jessup, Helen (1989) ‘Netherlands architecture in Indonesia, 1900–1942’, PhD Dissertation, Courtauld Institute of Art, University of London Kahin, George Mc Turnan (1952) Nationalism and Revolution in Indonesia, New York: Cornell University Press. KITLV (Royal Netherlands Institute of Southeast Asian and Caribbean Studies) (n.d. a) STOVIA te Batavia– Image Code: 35810, http://kitlv.pictura-dp.nl/index.php?option=com_memorix&Itemid=28&task= topview&CollectionID=1&RecordID=7021&PhotoID=KLV001009708, accessed 21 June 2011. KITLV (Royal Netherlands Institute of Southeast Asian and Caribbean Studies) (n.d. b) STOVIA te Batavia– Image Code: 35813, http://kitlv.picturadp.nl/index.php?option=com_memorix&Itemid=28&task= topview&CollectionID=1&RecordID=7023&PhotoID=KLV001009711, accessed 23 June 2011. KITLV (Royal Netherlands Institute of Southeast Asian and Caribbean Studies) (n.d. c) STOVIA te Batavia– Image Code: 33514, http://kitlv.pictura-dp.nl/index.php?option=com_memorix&Itemid=28&task= topview&cp=3&CollectionID=1&RecordID=11268&PhotoID=KLV001064783, accessed 21 June 2011. KITLV (Royal Netherlands Institute of Southeast Asian and Caribbean Studies) (n.d. d) STOVIA te Batavia– Image Code: 1406303, http://kitlv.pictura-dp.nl/index.php?option=com_memorix&Itemid=28&task= topview&cp=3&CollectionID=1&RecordID=118434&PhotoID=KLV001100242, accessed 23 June 2011. Kurniawan, Kemas Ridwan (2008) ‘From Salemba to Depok campus: nationalism, education and public space in Universitas Indonesia’ ‘Dari Kampus Salemba ke Kampus Depok; Paradigma Nasionalisme, Pendidikan dan Ruang Publik di Universitas Indonesia’. Paper presented at the Seminar on Nationalism, Public Space, and Collective Memory within Indonesian Context held on 26–27 August 2008 and organized by the Department of Architecture and Department of Humanities, Universitas Indonesia. Kusno, Abidin (2000) Behind the Postcolonial; Architecture, Urban Space and Political Cultures in Indonesia, London: Routledge.

Memory and nationalism

551

Downloaded by [Open University], [Mr Phyo Win Latt] at 02:37 15 December 2011

Lubis, Firman (2008) Jakarta 1960s: Nostalgia as a Student (Jakarta 1960-an: Kenangan Semasa Mahasiswa), Jakarta: Masup. Mrazek, Rudolf (2002) Engineers of Happy Land: Technology and Nationalism in a Colony, Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press. Ricklefs, M. C. (1991) A History of Modern Indonesia c. 1300 (2nd ed.), London: Macmillan. Saroso, Kresno (2002) From Salemba to Buru Island; A Memoir of New Order Political Detainee (Dari Salemba ke Pulau Buru; Memoar Seorang Tapol Orde Baru), Jakarta: Institut Studi Arus Informasi. Somadikarta, S., Irsyam, Tri Wahyuningsih M. and Oemarjati, Boen S. (2000) The Golden Years of Universitas Indonesia, 1st series: From Balai to University (Tahun Emas Universitas Indonesia, Jilid 1: Dari Balai ke Universitas), Jakarta: UI Press. Sudradjat, Iwan (1991) ‘A study of Indonesian architectural history’, PhD dissertation, Department of Architecture, University of Sydney Suganda, Emirhadi and Kurniawan, Kemas Ridwan (2009) A Relation of Public Space, Nationalism Identity and Power in the Post Reform Era in the Universitas Indonesia (Hubungan Ruang Publik, Identitas Nasionalisme dan Kekuasaan Pasca Reformasi di Kampus Universitas Indonesia), Depok: Report of Excellent Research Grant in Universitas Indonesia. Sumalyo, Yulianto (1995) Dutch Colonial Architecture in Indonesia (Arsitektur Kolonial Belanda di Indonesia), Yogyakarta: Gadjah Mada University Press. Tjahjono, Gunawan and Sukada, Budi Adelar (2007) ‘History of planning and designing UI Campus in Depok’ ‘Sejarah Perencanaan dan Perancangan Kampus UI Depok’, unpublished manuscript Turner, Paul Venable (1984) Campus: An American Planning Tradition, Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. van Niel, Robert (1960) The Emergence of the Modern Indonesian Elite, The Hague: van Hoeve. Widyarta, M. Nanda (2007) Searching of an Architecture for a Nation: An Indonesian Story (Mencari Aristektur Sebuah Bangsa; Sebuah Kisah Indonesia), Surabaya: Wastu Lanas Grafika.

Author’s biography
Kemas Ridwan Kurniawan teaches Architectural History and Design in the Department of Architecture Faculty of Engineering Universitas Indonesia. He graduated as Sarjana Teknik (Bachelor of Engineering) in Architecture from Universitas Indonesia in 1995. He obtained a Master of Science in Architectural History in 2000 and Doctor of Philosophy in Architecture in 2005. Both were from the Bartlett School of Architecture University College London. His research interests are about design history, colonial and postcolonial architecture and urbanism as well as modernity and tradition in Indonesian contexts. He has recently conducted research about the history of the dome in the Indonesian Mosque in Sumatra (2010) and the history of the urban space in Pancoran Glodok Old Batavia (2011). Contact address: Department of Architecture Faculty of Engineering Universitas Indonesia, Depok 16424, Indonesia.

Criticine :: elevating discourse on southeast asian cinema

Page 1 of 8

Gie Reviewed by: Lisabona Rahman The year 2005 is proving to be a very productive time in Indonesian Cinema. This year there are over 50 films either in release or going into production. It’s safe to say that among all of these films, the most anticipated one has been director Riri Riza’s biopic of 1960s student activist Soe Hok Gie, titled Gie. Not only because it marks the return of Riri Riza to the director’s chair since 2002’s critically acclaimed Eliana, Eliana, but also because

Gie tackles a sensitive period of Indonesian history. A time that saw the downfall of
Indonesia’s first president Soekarno, a bloody uprising, and the rise and fall of the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI). Only one other Indonesian film has ever attempted to cover the events of that time; the government sponsored epic propaganda film,

Pemberontakan G30S/PKI (the September 30th Rebellion by the Indonesian Communist Party), directed by legendary Indonesian filmmaker, Arifin C. Noer.
One evening after a second viewing of Gie, film critics Lisabona Rahman and Paul Agusta sat down to talk about the film; it’s flaws, it’s merits, it’s homoerotic subtext, and it’s unavoidable comparison to Arifin C. Noer’s film.

On the Body of Work
Lisabona Rahman: I think the main thing you get out of the film doesn’t actually come from the film itself, but from the information surrounding it. I mean the most important thing that you have to have in a historical film is the character and the story you want to tell about this character or the historical event. I think the film only succeeded in conveying whatever Riri’s opinion on Soe Hok Gie… Paul Agusta: And not actually what happened… LR: Well, it’s at least his opinion… Gie is like… PA: Only a vehicle… LR: Yeah. PA: Also I felt that… being somebody not completely aware of the history of that period… I felt that a lot was left to the audiences’ assumption. The director assumed that everybody who watches the film knows some of the historical context; he didn’t really explain some of the events that were going on. Like at the beginning of the film the quick flash of the Cikini

http://www.criticine.com/review_print.php?id=9

29/1/2012

Criticine :: elevating discourse on southeast asian cinema

Page 2 of 8

bombing. And then when they come back on October 1st they just said that General Yani was kidnapped. But they didn’t go into full details. It didn’t even really explain that the PKI was supposedly involved in it and all. That whole thing was designed for people that know the history that lived with watching that Arifin C. Noer movie every year. He definitely failed to create the environment of that period for people who know nothing about it. So if you’re not Indonesian, or you didn’t grow up knowing the history, you’re screwed. You won’t understand what’s going on. LR: That I think is the main difference between Gie and Pemberontakan G-30-S PKI. Filmwise it was good. I would consider it as one of the best Indonesian films. PA: Me too, I’d put it in my top ten. LR: I think the strongest point in Arifin’s film is that it actually builds up its characters. PA: Yeah, everyone is three-dimensional, and it’s not that much longer than Gie. LR: So I think Riri might have failed to go out of his own enchantment towards Gie. And he kind of assumes that everybody knows about Gie, or at least whoever is watching it knows about it. PA: Yeah and people would automatically have the same enchantment he had towards this character. LR: Well, I would say he tries hard to make people understand about how this person was so wonderful. By putting him as a very critical character with a critical mind, knows a lot, reads literature. For kids his age at that time he already know Andre Gides… he was special. And look at how he uses Gie’s words. Riri counted so much on the words of Gie narrated by Nico to create the whole story, without actually trying putting it into visualization. PA: The thing is that there wasn’t enough information about why he was the person he was. The family environment isn’t as well portrayed as it should be. LR: But he tried to mention it towards the end, when Gie fell asleep on the table, woke up and told his father why he became a writer. PA: I felt that that was expository. It was put there to explain something that we didn’t get elsewhere. And that is failure in scriptwriting.

http://www.criticine.com/review_print.php?id=9

29/1/2012

Criticine :: elevating discourse on southeast asian cinema

Page 3 of 8

LR: And it was far less than enough. PA: Until you get to that point you think “God, this guy!” He (the father) has no job, doesn’t talk, I mean did he have a stroke or something. LR: No, he didn’t. Because (in one scene) he was able to write one word perfectly, but then tore the page and threw it away… PA: Because he just sat there, and did nothing. I think the character of the father should’ve been fleshed out more in order for us to understand Gie more. And his brother is another very important person… I’m sure he had some influence in his life. They were in severe competition with each other. LR: The scenes at the school when Gie and his brother were reading each other’s article was intended as the background information on their competition although it was not strong enough. And another time when his brother wanted to get an Indonesian name, while Gie said he didn’t want to. There was a lot of conflict that wasn’t properly developed while it could’ve added valuable details to the film. PA: I noticed that you say it tried, tried, tried. This film tried to do a lot, but failed. It would get an A for effort but D for final product. LR: True. But maybe that’s also probably because I was too excited about it and had high hopes for it. But when I saw it, it wasn’t quite what I had expected. PA: Yeah. Everybody though that this is gonna be great! I’m sure everybody had such high expectations after Eliana, Eliana. I did. LR: I don’t understand why Riri insisted on making it in a linear plot. I can’t find any good reason why he showed each period with equal length, with nothing that really connects one part to the other. Like nothing really builds up towards the end. PA: Could it be because it is based on a diary or journal, and the journal itself is fragmented? And not enough research maybe to fill in the gaps? LR: But supposed that it was true. But still the maker would have been able to develop one consistent statement about who this person was and what kind of story you want to tell. And that’s exactly where this film fails. What kind of story you want to tell? Let’s look at how the film starts; the opening was not really an introductory picture of whether it’s the period or the person. So it makes you wonder what comes next. But what comes next

http://www.criticine.com/review_print.php?id=9

29/1/2012

Criticine :: elevating discourse on southeast asian cinema

Page 4 of 8

doesn’t really help you to understand it. PA: I think that he was trying to portray everything but failed. The biggest flaw in this film is lack of focus and it became so painful to watch. You should give us medals for watching it twice. LR: Fragmented films can be very successful if it has very strong theme. And that’s what’s lacking. I tried to think that Riri made this film because of his political purposes rather than telling a story. Everything was very provocative you know, like the statements that he put in, and especially the ones he put at the ending. So I think you can watch this film with your eyes closed, just listen and look at the text once in a while and you won’t miss much of it. I was so frustrated because I really expected a lot from it. PA: But there are good things about the film. Would you not agree that of all the recent films that this is one of the most well-produced films? Cinematography… costumes, period setting, art direction… LR: Okay cinematography was good. Art direction was strong, but I think it uses a lot of location and properties like cars and stuff over and over again. So like ¾ of the film I started to feel confused because similar things pop up again and again. Like time doesn’t move forward, or I even feel that Gie was being stalked by somebody in a two-tone sedan. PA: Do you think something that is made for as much money could’ve been better? LR: I wish. So I don’t know if its bad production… but I do agree that among the recently released Indonesian films it has better quality than the others I’ve seen lately. Coming from Riri, at least it has the same quality of pictures as his previous films. PA: Well, I’ll watch the 4-hour version when it comes out. Because I still find it difficult to believe that Riri Riza can be that sloppy. LR: I think Jonathan Mulia (the actor who plays the younger Gie) deserves a praise, being a non-actor. PA: Yeah. The Jonathan Mulia-Nicholas Saputra transition was very smooth. But the young Han and Thomas Nawilis they look absolutely nothing alike! And the teeth, very distinctive difference. This is a huge flaw. And also we can bring up what everybody was saying about Eurasians playing Indonesian Chinese… LR: I wouldn’t make it a case because it wouldn’t have mattered if they played well.

http://www.criticine.com/review_print.php?id=9

29/1/2012

Criticine :: elevating discourse on southeast asian cinema

Page 5 of 8

Nobody would’ve complained if they were good actors. PA: Again, maybe it was because they gave very bad performances. You see Wulan Guritno (Sinta) and you see the parents, I can’t help to think, how could she be their offspring? It is unbelievable that she’s Chinese. LR: That Sinta character, I don’t even understand why she’s there. It didn’t really contribute to the story.

On Gie and Pemberontakan G-30-S/PKI
LR: Pemberontakan G-30-S/PKI was so imprinted in our minds. I never got to watch it in full length during the 11 years it was screened on TV, so I watched about 3 years ago on VCD. And I was so impressed how much I appreciated the film. It definitely was one of the best Indonesian movies I’ve ever seen. It has very clear story, very strong characters. They even think about what kind of artistic elements can enhance each characters. Like in the houses or rooms of the good guys there will be paintings and sculptures, to show how cultured they are. And then the PKI (Indonesian Communist Party) people would be the ones who are always smoking Dji Sam Soe (unfiltered clove cigarettes), they have very sloppy outfits, black lips and so on. PA: And there was subtle subversions in the art direction. It was his own political statements being made subtly through art direction. And that was the greatest thing about the film. Because a lot of people criticized and attacked him for making that film. LR: Because of the story… PA: And it was government propaganda… LR: Well let’s go back to Leni Riefenstahl then… I don’t agree with the opinion suggested in the film, but I think it is still a good film. PA: It is a very masterfully made film. But I also felt that through the subtle things in the art direction, Arifin was able to let out his own politics which was opposite of the government’s lie which this film was supposed to serve. LR: I agree. It kind of subverts the story. I just realized after it was no longer on TV that the PKI characters are actually portrayed very satirically. Coming back to Gie, if during the process of making decisions about this film, if they had only thought about criticizing what was there on the Pemberontakan G-30-S/PKI, it would be a much better film.

http://www.criticine.com/review_print.php?id=9

29/1/2012

Criticine :: elevating discourse on southeast asian cinema

Page 6 of 8

PA: Exactly. Again he didn’t know what he wanted to do with it. LR: Riri didn’t make it a case against Pemberontakan. He kind of picks up where it left off. I thought he had strong opinions about Indonesian films, he was obsessed with it. And he didn’t even talk about the most important film in Indonesian film history. PA: Exactly. I automatically expected Gie to be an antithesis of that film. But he didn’t even try the least bit to be that. LR: I’m very surprised that the only thing about film in Gie was the fact that Gie watched films. Not about how films were used. PA: What year was Pemberontakan made? LR: Around 1984…

On Homoeroticism
PA: You go… LR: I think it’s the first homoerotic Indonesian movie in 20 years… PA: I would have to agree with that. Actually the most glaring thing… and the only thing I thought that the director successfully did, if he was trying, was the incredibly questionable portrayal of Gie’s friendship with Han and later Herman Lantang. Like the one scene when the Jaka guy was yelling at Gie and Herman Lantang came between them. Gie put his arms around Herman Lantang. What is that? He puts his arms around Herman and on his chest and pulls Herman back…. LR: to him! PA: Yeah… I was like… “What the hell…” If that wasn’t intentional I don’t know why. LR: Maybe it appeals to the director’s sub-consciousness… Because the director was happy about it. PA: I won’t try to speculate about his sexuality… Well let’s start with the flaws. PA: Why would you call it the first homoerotic film in Indonesian film history? LR: Let’s ask about why we even think about that as we watched it. First the shorts, very

http://www.criticine.com/review_print.php?id=9

29/1/2012

Criticine :: elevating discourse on southeast asian cinema

Page 7 of 8

tight and very short… PA: But of course the fashion of that period… LR: But the angle of the shots… when Gie and Han sat together on the roof… PA: Yeah, that was a very cool display of legs. LR: And that scene when Gie was sleeping on a couch. Why was the light aimed directly at his crotch? PA: And the crotch was exactly central frame, horizontal and vertical. LR: And I think how the story evolves around Gie’s relationship with Han… PA: That was I think the one main focus… LR: Yeah, because it builds up through the film. It was the beginning and the ending. So this film should’ve been called Gie and Han. And I don’t know why there should be the two women… PA: Yeah, they were just friends. I think he was even physically uncomfortable when he was around them but very much at ease when he was around his male friends… LR: And he was very physical around them… PA: Exactly… He could be incredibly physical with Han but could barely touch Ira and Sinta. I felt that the scene when Ira reads the letter towards the end, it seems stuck there to sort of quell any thoughts of homosexuality on Gie. LR: But after the first two sentences, the letter started using ‘kalian’, the plural form of ‘you’ which kind of negates whatever propositions that was initially suggested. It destroys the whole assumptions about Gie’s feelings for Ira. PA: Maybe it was supposed to be for Herman? [laugh] LR: [laugh] The Dani guy gave it to the wrong person… PA: And at the end the text said that he died in Semeru with Herman Lantang. Or in the arms of Herman Lantang, that’s exactly what it said. But this film is not doing a very good job in…

http://www.criticine.com/review_print.php?id=9

29/1/2012

Criticine :: elevating discourse on southeast asian cinema

Page 8 of 8

LR: It actually leads us more and more into the homoerotic aspects, which actually creates another question, why the two women? What are their functions in the story, to create a conflict in Gie’s sexuality… PA: But that wasn’t explored! LR: Or maybe we find it absurd because the kissing scene was censored. Who knows there might be an explanation there. PA: But judging from the rest of the film. If it’s not a sex-scene that’s being cut off, that part wasn’t convincing enough. There too many gay sides to it, and it is as subtle as a jackhammer. But… anyway, he supposedly died with Herman Lantang. But how come he was portrayed alone in the trip that I assume was the trip in which he died. That was a very big flaw. LR: A lot of people actually thinks that this film is very homoerotic. I wonder why it never came to be discussed. PA: How controversial could it be if in fact: one, he was intentional with the homoeroticism and he’d go further. LR: That would be great. I would forgive it for not referring to the Pemberontakan, because then the film has different purposes. But everybody even Riri was so busy trying to point out these political aspects of Gie’s life. But he never even once said anything about Gie’s sexuality. If he had, it would have been perceived differently. PA: I agree. The question is why is he dodging it. Copyright ©2005 Criticine. All rights reserved.

http://www.criticine.com/review_print.php?id=9

29/1/2012

Pramoedya Ananta Toer

1

Pramoedya Ananta Toer
Pramoedya Ananta Toer (EYD: Pramudya Ananta Tur) (6 February 1925 – 30 April 2006) was an Indonesian author of novels, short stories, essays, polemic and histories of his homeland and its people. His works span the colonial period, Indonesia's struggle for independence, its occupation by Japan during the Second World War, as well as the post-colonial authoritarian regimes of Sukarno and Suharto, and are infused with personal and national history. Pramoedya's writings sometimes fell out of favor with the colonial and later the authoritarian native governments in power. Pramoedya faced censorship in Indonesia during the pre-reformation era despite the fact that he was well known outside Indonesia. During the changeover to the Suharto regime Pramoedya was caught up in the shifting tides of political change and power struggles in Indonesia. He was seen as a holdover from the previous regime (even though he had struggled with the former regime as well) and was banished for years to Buru island where political prisoners were kept. It was there that he composed his most famous work, the Buru Quartet. Not permitted access to writing materials, he recited the story orally to other prisoners before it was written down and smuggled out. Pramoedya opposed some policies of founding President Sukarno as well as the New Order regime of Suharto, Sukarno's successor. Political criticisms were often subtle in his writing, although he was outspoken against colonialism and racism. During the many years in which he suffered imprisonment and house arrest, he became a cause célèbre for advocates of human rights and freedom of expression.

Early years
Pramoedya was born on February 6, 1925, in the town of Blora in the heartland of Java, then a part of the Dutch East Indies. He was the firstborn son in his family; his father was a teacher, who was also active in Boedi Oetomo (the first recognized indigenous national organization in Indonesia) and his mother was a rice trader. His maternal grandfather had taken the pilgrimage to Mecca.[1] As it is written in his semi-autobiographical collection of short stories "Cerita Dari Blora", his name was originally Pramoedya Ananta Mastoer. But he felt that the family name Mastoer (his father's name) seemed too aristocratic. The Javanese prefix "Mas" refers to a man of the higher rank in a noble family. Consequently he omitted "Mas" and kept Toer as his family name. He went on to the Radio Vocational School in Surabaya but had barely graduated from the school when Japan invaded Surabaya (1942). During World War II, Pramoedya (like many Indonesian Nationalists, Sukarno and Suharto among them) at first supported the occupying forces of Imperial Japan. He believed the Japanese to be the lesser of two evils, compared to the Dutch. He worked as a typist for a Japanese newspaper in Jakarta. As the war went on, however, Indonesians were dismayed by the austerity of wartime rationing and by increasingly harsh measures taken by the Japanese military. The Nationalist forces loyal to Sukarno switched their support to the incoming Allies against Japan; all indications are that Pramoedya did as well. On August 17, 1945, after the news of Allied victory over Japan reached Indonesia, Sukarno proclaimed Indonesian independence. This touched off the Indonesian National Revolution against the forces of the British and Dutch. In this war, Pramoedya joined a paramilitary group in Karawang, Kranji (West Java) and eventually was stationed in Jakarta. During this time he wrote short stories and books, as well as propaganda for the Nationalist cause. He was eventually imprisoned by the Dutch in Jakarta in 1947 and remained there until 1949, the year the Netherlands recognized Indonesian independence. While imprisoned in Bukit Duri from 1947 to 1949 for his role in the Indonesian Revolution, he wrote his first major novel The Fugitive.

Pramoedya Ananta Toer

2

Post-Independence prominence
In the first years after the struggle for independence, Pramoedya wrote several works of fiction dealing with the problems of the newly founded nation, as well as semi-autobiographical works based on his wartime memoirs. He was soon able to live in the Netherlands as part of a cultural exchange program. In the years that followed, he took an interest in several other cultural exchanges, including trips to the Soviet Union and the People's Republic of China, as well as translations of Russian writers Maxim Gorky and Leo Tolstoy. In Indonesia, Pramoedya built up a reputation as a literary and social critic, joining the left-wing writers' group Lekra and writing in various newspapers and literary journals. His writing style became more politically charged, as evidenced in his story Korupsi (Corruption), a critical fiction of a civil servant who falls into the trap of corruption. This created friction between him and the government of Sukarno. From the late 1950s, Pramoedya began teaching literary history at the left-wing Universitas Res Publica. As he prepared material, he began to realise that the study of Indonesian language and literature had been distorted by the Dutch colonial authorities. He sought out materials that had been ignored by colonial educational institutions, and which had continued to be ignored after independence. Having spent time in China, he became greatly sympathetic to the Indonesian Chinese over the persecutions they faced in postcolonial Indonesia. Most notably, he published a series of letters addressed to an imaginary Chinese correspondent discussing the history of the Indonesian Chinese, called Hoakiau di Indonesia (History of the Overseas Chinese in Indonesia). He criticized the government for being too Java-centric and insensitive to the needs and desires of the other regions and peoples of Indonesia. As a result, he was arrested by the Indonesian military and jailed at Cipinang prison for nine months.

Imprisonment under Suharto
In October 1965 there was a coup and the army took power after alleging that the assassination of several senior generals was masterminded by the Communist Party of Indonesia. The transition to Suharto's New Order followed, and Pramoedya's position as the head of People's Cultural Organisation, a literary wing of the Indonesian Communist Party caused him to be considered a communist and enemy of the "New Order" regime. During the violent anti-Communist purge, he was arrested, beaten, and imprisoned by Suharto's government and named a tapol ("political prisoner"). His books were banned from circulation, and he was imprisoned without trial, first in Nusa Kambangan off the southern coast of Java, and then in the penal colony of Buru in the eastern islands of the Indonesian archipelago. He was banned from writing during his imprisonment on the island of Buru, but still managed to compose - orally his best-known series of work to date, the Buru Quartet, a series of four historical fiction novels chronicling the development of Indonesian nationalism and based in part on his own experiences growing up. The English titles of the books in the quartet are This Earth of Mankind, Child of All Nations, Footsteps, and House of Glass. The main character of the series, Minke, a Javanese minor royal, was based in part on an Indonesian journalist active in the nationalist movement, Tirto Adhi Surjo. The quartet includes strong female characters of Indonesian and Chinese ethnicity, and address the discriminations and indignities of living under colonial rule, the struggle for personal and national political independence. Like much of Pramoedya's work they tell personal stories and focus on individuals caught up in the tide of a nation's history. Pramoedya had done research for the books before his imprisonment in the Buru prison camp. When he was arrested his library was burned and much of his collection and early writings were lost. On the prison colony island of Buru he was not permitted even to have a pencil. Doubting that he would ever be able to write the novels down himself, he narrated them to his fellow prisoners. With the support of the other prisoners who took on extra labor to reduce his workload, Pramoedya was eventually able to write the novels down, and the published works derive their name "Buru Quartet" from the prison where he produced them. They have been collected and published in English

Pramoedya Ananta Toer (translated by Max Lane) and Indonesian, as well as many other languages. Though the work is considered a classic by many outside of Indonesia, publication was banned in Indonesia causing one of the most famous of Indonesia's literary works to be largely unavailable to the country's people whose history it addressed. Copies were scanned by Indonesians abroad and distributed via the Internet to people inside the country. Pramoedya's works on colonial Indonesia recognised the importance of Islam as a vehicle for popular opposition to the Dutch, but his works are not overtly religious. He rejected those who used religion to deny critical thinking, and on occasion wrote with considerable negativity to the religiously pious. One author has speculated this may have resulted from a low number of Hajjis in his native Blora and resentment of his Haji grandfather's divorce and abandonment of his grandmother.

3

Release and subsequent works
Pramoedya was released from imprisonment in 1979, but remained under house arrest in Jakarta until 1992. During this time he released The Girl From the Coast, another semi-fictional novel based on his grandmother's own experience (volumes 2 and 3 of this work were destroyed along with his library in 1965). He also wrote Nyanyi Sunyi Seorang Bisu (1995); A Mute's Soliloquy, an autobiography based on the letters that he wrote for his daughter from imprisonment in Buru but were not allowed to be sent, and Arus Balik (1995). He wrote many columns and short articles criticizing the Indonesian government. He wrote a book Perawan Remaja dalam Cengkraman Militer (Young Virgins in the Military's Grip), a documentary written in the style of a novel showcasing the plight of Javanese women who were forced to become comfort women during the Japanese occupation. They were brought to the island of Buru where they were sexually abused, and ended up staying there instead of returning to Java. Pramoedya made their acquaintance when he himself was a political prisoner on the Buru island in the 1970s. Pramoedya was hospitalized on April 27, 2006, for complications Toer's grave in Karet Bivak Cemetery, Jakarta brought on by diabetes and heart disease. He was also a heavy smoker of clove cigarettes and had endured years of abuse while in detention. He died on April 30, 2006 at the age of 81. Pramoedya earned several accolades, and was frequently discussed as Indonesia's and Southeast Asia's best candidate for a Nobel Prize in Literature. Pramoedya's writings on Indonesia are not unlike those of Salman Rushdie's on India in addressing the international and regional currents caused by political events in history and how these events flowed through his homeland and buffeted its people. Pramoedya also shares a personal history of hardship and detention for his efforts of self-expression and the political aspects of his writings, and struggled against the censorship of his work by the leaders of his own people.

Pramoedya Ananta Toer

4

Awards
• • • • • • • • • • 1988 PEN/Barbara Goldsmith Freedom to Write Award. 1989 The Fund for Free Expression Award, New York, USA. 1992 English P.E.N Centre Award, Great Britain. 1992 Stichting Wertheim Award, Netherland. 1995 Ramon Magsaysay Award for Journalism, Literature, and Creative Communication Arts. 1999 Doctor Honoris Causa from the University of Michigan. 1999 Chancellor's Distinguished Honor Award from the University of California, Berkeley. 2000 Chevalier de l'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres Republic of France. 2000 11th Fukuoka Asian Culture Prize. 2004 Norwegian Authors' Union award for his contribution to world literature and his continuous struggle for the right to freedom of expression. • 2004 Pablo Neruda Award, Chile • 2005 Global Intellectuals Poll by the Prospect.

Major works
• • • • • • • • • • • • Kranji-Bekasi Jatuh (1947) Perburuan (The Fugitive) (1950) Keluarga Gerilya (1950) Bukan Pasar Malam (1951) Cerita dari Blora (1952) Gulat di Jakarta (1953) Korupsi (Corruption) (1954) Midah - Si Manis Bergigi Emas (1954) Cerita Calon Arang (The King, the Witch, and the Priest) (1957) Hoakiau di Indonesia (1960) Panggil Aku Kartini Saja I & II (1962) The Buru Quartet • Bumi Manusia (This Earth of Mankind) (1980) • Anak Semua Bangsa (Child of All Nations) (1980) • Jejak Langkah (Footsteps) (1985) • Rumah Kaca (House of Glass) (1988) Gadis Pantai (The Girl from the Coast) (1982) Nyanyi Sunyi Seorang Bisu (A Mute's Soliloquy) (1995) Arus Balik (1995) Arok Dedes (1999) Mangir (1999) Larasati (2000)

• • • • • •

Pramoedya Ananta Toer

5

Notes
[1] Vickers, Adrian (2005). A History of Modern Indonesia. New York: Cambridge University Press. p. 53. ISBN 0-521-54262-2.

Further reading
Books on Pramoedya Ananta Toer • Citra Manusia Indonesia dalam Karya Pramoedya Ananta Toer, by A. Teeuw, Pustaka Jaya, Jakarta, 1997.
(Indonesian)

• Pramoedya Ananta Toer dan Sastra Realisme Sosialis (http://www.id.wikipedia.org/wiki/ Pramoedya_Ananta_Toer_dan_Sastra_Realisme_Sosialis), by Eka Kurniawan, Gramedia Pustaka Utama, Jakarta, 2006. (Indonesian) • Exile : Pramoedya Ananta Toer in conversation with Andre Vltchek and Rossie Indira (Chicago, Ill. : Haymarket Books, 2006). ISBN 1931859280. (English)

External links
• On the Death of Pramoedya Ananta Toer - by Tariq Ali (http://www.counterpunch.org/tariq05022006.html) • Pramoedya Ananta Toer information page (http://sites.google.com/site/pramoedyasite/) • Pramoedya Ananta Toer, 81, Indonesian Novelist, Dies (http://www.nytimes.com/2006/05/01/books/ 01prem.html?ex=1147147200&en=d4a8b0b47a30189e&ei=5070&emc=eta1) (The New York Times, April 30) • Equinox Publishing (http://www.EquinoxPublishing.com) • Pramoedya and Politics (http://www.une.edu.au/lcl/asianlang/indonesian/pramoedya.php)

Article Sources and Contributors

6

Article Sources and Contributors
Pramoedya Ananta Toer  Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?oldid=454629503  Contributors: *drew, AI, APrimo977, Aiko, Alexanderingle, Angelad, Arsonal, Bbsrock, Bmanisk, Borgx, Bruxism, Butsuri, Caniago, Cayindra, Cdc, ChildofMidnight, Crisco 1492, Cuchullain, D6, DBaba, Davidelit, Dmeyer2, Dre.comandante, Dtasripin, Dthomas218, Earth, EmilyWolff, Fratrep, Fredrik, Garion96, Garypeace, Garzo, Hanusz, Hayabusa future, Indon, Jpatokal, Jpeerebo, Julius.kusuma, Katimawan2005, Krscal, Kyng, Lugnuts, Merbabu, Meursault2004, Mimihitam, Monegasque, Mporter, NickelShoe, Phoebe, RahadyanS, Rcawsey, RedWolf, SDC, SatuSuro, Savicali, Sepa, Smiller66, Smilo Don, Sonett72, Sterry2607, The ed17, Tibetibet, Trtskh, Ufinne, Uswatunww, Wallamoose, Wikix, 70 anonymous edits

Image Sources, Licenses and Contributors
File:Grave of Pramoedya Ananta Toer, Karet Bivak Cemetery.jpg  Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Grave_of_Pramoedya_Ananta_Toer,_Karet_Bivak_Cemetery.jpg  License: Creative Commons Attribution-Sharealike 3.0  Contributors: User:Crisco 1492

License
Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported //creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/

Pramoedya Ananta Toer Interview

Page 1 of 11

Published on The Progressive (http://www.progressive.org)
Home > Pramoedya Ananta Toer Interview

Pramoedya Ananta Toer Interview
Pramoedya Ananta Toer Interview By Matthew Rothschild
October 1999 Issue

ramoedya Ananta Toer is the preeminent novelist of Indonesia and is frequently mentioned as a candidate for a Nobel Prize. Born on February 1, 1925, on the island of Java, Pramoedya was brought up to be an Indonesian nationalist. From 1947 to 1949, he was imprisoned by the Dutch for possessing anti-colonial materials. A supporter of Indonesia’s first president, the nationalist and nonaligned leader Sukarno, Pramoedya was a marked man when General Suharto seized power in September 1965. On the evening of October 13, 1965, Pramoedya was at home editing a collection of Sukarno’s short stories when the military came for him. He spent most of the Suharto era behind bars without trial, including fourteen years at the Buru Island Prison Colony. For the first few years there, he was held with sixteen other prisoners in isolation from the other inmates. During Suharto’s thirty-three-year reign, Pramoedya’s works were banned in Indonesia. Today he is most famous for his Buru Quartet, which he wrote from 1969 to 1979 while imprisoned there. The quartet consists of This Earth of Mankind, Child of All Nations, Footsteps, and House of Glass (all republished in English by Penguin). The hero of the anti-colonial quartet is a journalist named Minke, who gradually becomes a leading voice for Indonesian independence. Minke narrates the first three installments of the quartet. But in the last one, a new narrator takes over, Minke’s captor—Jacques Pangemanann, who arrested him for publishing an attack on the Dutch rulers. While guarding Minke, Pangemanann comes to admire him and sympathize with the nationalist movement though he still treats him with cruelty.

http://www.progressive.org/print/3334

31/1/2012

Pramoedya Ananta Toer Interview

Page 2 of 11

Toward the end of the quartet, Pangemanann and a couple of police officers present Minke with a release form to sign. It demands that he not get involved in politics or organizations. Minke spurns the request: “What do you gentlemen mean by politics? And by organization? And what do you mean by ‘involved’? Do you mean that I have to go and live by myself on top of a mountain? Everything is political! Everything needs organization. Do you gentlemen think that the illiterate farmers who spend their lives hoeing the ground are not involved in politics? The moment they surrender a part of their little crop to the village authorities as tax, they are carrying out a political act because they are acknowledging and accepting the authority of the government. Or do you mean by politics just those things that make the government unhappy? While those things that make the government happy are not political? And tell me, who is it that can free themselves from involvement in organization? As soon as you have more than two people together, you already have organization. . . . Even those who become hermits, who take themselves away into the middle of the forest or the ocean, still take with them something of the influence of their fellow human beings. And while there are those who rule and those who are ruled, those who exercise power and those who are the objects of that exercise of power, people will be involved in politics. While people live in society, no matter how small that society, people will be organizing.” Pangemanann releases Minke anyway but heaps further humiliations upon him. A few months later, Minke dies in obscurity. This year, Pramoedya has come out with a new book, The Mute’s Soliloquy: A Memoir (Hyperion). In it, he provides sketches of what life was like in prison. “For the first few months, torture was the prisoners’ constant diet,” he writes. “I saw prisoners whose hands and legs were bound tightly being thrown out of trucks. I witnessed how one young man, who was being interrogated beside me, had pencils placed between his fingers, at their base, between the middle and lower knuckles. Every time the interrogator asked the boy a question, he’d crush the young man’s fingers together, causing him to scream and moan in pain.” One surprise in the book is that Suharto wrote a letter to Pramoedya at Buru, and Pramoedya responded in a polite but jousting way. Both letters are reprinted in the text.

http://www.progressive.org/print/3334

31/1/2012

Pramoedya Ananta Toer Interview

Page 3 of 11

The longer Pramoedya stayed in prison, the more he seemed to doubt whether he would be able to reach anyone with his writings. “I recall someone saying, ‘Let him holler; he’ll soon wear himself out.’ Now what I hear is, ‘Let him be. It won’t be long before he dies anyway.’ I have lost my voice. Were I able to sing, would anyone hear this mute’s soliloquy?” Part of the memoir is addressed to his children, and much of it consists of autobiographical entries. But above all, the book continues his quest to gain true independence and freedom for Indonesia. Like the Nobel Prize-winners Naguib Mahfouz and Wole Soyinka, Pramoedya has felt the crush of disappointment after colonialism yielded not to democracy but to corruption and repression. Nonetheless, he has not given up. “There was a time when the people of Indonesia wanted, demanded, and fought for national freedom,” he writes. “Now that’s been won, personal freedom is trammeled. I’ve often heard people say, ‘Your country is beautiful, a virtual paradise.’ When will the people of Indonesia be as beautiful as their land, with a civilization and culture that contributes to the great beauty of humankind and no longer smothers and strangles the mind?” I spoke with Pramoedya on May 21 in Madison, where he was a guest of the University of Wisconsin. I was told that he rises early, keeping to the same schedule he had in prison, so we met at 6:30 a.m. for coffee at the Madison Inn, where he was staying. He came downstairs with his wife, Maimoenah Thamrin, and with his longtime editor, Yusuf Isak, an Indonesian journalist who had also served time in prison under Suharto. Dressed casually and wearing a University of Wisconsin cap, Pramoedya got his wife a bagel, sat down, and offered me a clove Djarum cigarette, the first of many over the next hour. Speaking quietly in Indonesian, he was careful not to aggrandize his prison experience. And he showed an almost blasé attitude toward his Buru Quartet, laughing when he appeared not to recognize his own words. When we were through with the interview, he asked for a tour of The Progressive magazine, which I was more than happy to give. Q: In This Earth of Mankind, one of your characters says, “Without a love of literature, you’ll remain just a lot of clever animals.” Where did your love of literature come from? Pramoedya Ananta Toer: I couldn’t do anything else, apart from writing. Q: Ever since you were a boy?

http://www.progressive.org/print/3334

31/1/2012

Pramoedya Ananta Toer Interview

Page 4 of 11

Pramoedya: At first I had no inclination to write. But I failed in trying to do other jobs, so I decided to become a writer. Q: How did you manage to write your quartet while in prison? Pramoedya: Before I got permission, I had to do it behind their backs. For a long time, I was not permitted to write, so I had to do it orally. From 1971 until mid-1973, we were not allowed to socialize with the others. During mass executions of political prisoners, in the isolation cell I told the stories to my friends. During official ceremonies, my fellow isolated friends told the stories to other friends who were not being isolated, and that’s how they were spread. Q: How did you convey such a long and involved story orally? Pramoedya: Only the general outlines were orally transmitted. The details had to be written down later, when paper was available. Q: Tell me about your time in prison and the treatment you received. Pramoedya: Practically everyone has their own scars due to torture. Q: What conclusion did you draw from the sadism of the guards about human beings in general? Pramoedya: I saw how low culture and civilization could go. In Indonesia, the guards torture people in order to feel mighty and feared. They are happy if people are scared of them. Q: Your latest work, The Mute’s Soliloquy, is a collection of your writings and reflections in the Buru prison. It’s not a novel at all. What were you intending to do with this? Pramoedya: The book was for my children so that they would know they once had a father. Because on Buru, you have to be prepared to be executed at any time. I knew that the quartet would be smuggled out; it was intended to be read by the public. But this one was not; it was private. Q: You write in The Mute’s Soliloquy that your imprisonment was “a consequence of nation-building.” What did you mean by that? Pramoedya: The army imprisoned me because I was actively involved in the process of nation-building. I write my books to make the nation as one. I write using the

http://www.progressive.org/print/3334

31/1/2012

Pramoedya Ananta Toer Interview

Page 5 of 11

Indonesian language because that language is a bond that unites us. I don’t use my mother tongue, the Javanese language. Indonesia is comprised of many ethnic and sub-ethnic groups. It has to be built into one nation. Q: In a sense, your anti-colonial quartet is a chronicle of nation-building, isn’t it? Pramoedya: The spirit is anti-colonial because I was socialized from childhood to be anti-colonial. Q: Your dad was a nationalist? Pramoedya: Yes, a non-cooperator. There were cooperators and non-cooperators. It has to be emphasized here: He was a non-cooperator. Q: Did he encourage you to become a writer? Pramoedya: My father practically never spoke with his children. Q: So how did you pick up his anti-colonial attitude? Pramoedya: By example. Q: What about your mother? Pramoedya: Since childhood I was taught by my mother to be a free person. Not ordering others around, and also not being ordered around by others. That was how my mother socialized us. My mind has been free since childhood. I create freedom for myself. Q: Minke, the hero of your quartet, is a journalist, and you, for a time, were a journalist, too. Did you become a journalist as a way to fight for Indonesian independence? Pramoedya: No, when I was a teenager, I had to find a job. And journalism was the one open to me. Q: But you soon began to realize the power of the word? Pramoedya: Yes, the power of the word. Even though no one admits it, writers are leaders in their communities. And Indonesia, especially, needs writers who can reach the people evenly, regardless of class or station.

http://www.progressive.org/print/3334

31/1/2012

Pramoedya Ananta Toer Interview

Page 6 of 11

Q: But you have a character in your quartet warn Minke “to be a writer, and not a speechmaker.” Are you making the point that speechifying gets in the way of art? Pramoedya: I chose to write, and not to make speeches, though I did make some speeches before I was imprisoned. But writing is still writing. And it depends on the quality of the writing itself whether someone is creating art or not. Q: In Child of All Nations, Minke’s mentor also says, “A good author, Mr. Minke, should be able to provide his readers with some joy, not a false joy, but some faith that life is beautiful.” What did you mean by that? Pramoedya: I don’t know; I never reread my own writing. Q: Why is that? Pramoedya: If I reread it, I’ll keep rewriting it, and it’ll never be finished. Q: But were you advising yourself to provide joy in your own writing? Pramoedya: No, no. This is about Minke; it is different for myself. Q: But surely as a writer, you must think it’s important to provide some joy, some faith? Pramoedya: I don’t write to give joy to readers but to give them a conscience. Q: Do you think writers who try to give joy are spreading false hope? Pramoedya: I don’t have the right to judge those who write to give joy, but it’s a struggle to give conscience and not joy. Q: I’ve got to ask you the obvious question about your quartet: Why did you remove Minke as the narrator of your fourth installment, House of Glass, just as he enters confinement? Pramoedya: Because, practically, Minke’s life story has already finished. The fourth book is about how power defeats Minke—colonial power. His life doesn’t continue. If there is a continuation, then the continuation is with the history of independence. And that process of continuation is in the hands of others.

http://www.progressive.org/print/3334

31/1/2012

Pramoedya Ananta Toer Interview

Page 7 of 11

Q: Near the end of House of Glass, Minke’s guard writes up a release form for him to sign, which says that Minke forswears future involvement in politics and organizing. Minke rejects the offer with an eloquent speech. Is this scene at all autobiographical? Pramoedya: With me, I did sign it. But in the letter of release it mentioned that it was not legally proven that I was involved in the Indonesian Communist Party. Q: Your quartet centered on the quest for independence. But since 1945, Indonesian independence cannot have turned out as you imagined. What happened? Pramoedya: I had idealism when I was young, but in reality the interference from abroad has been too much. Q: From the West? Pramoedya: Yes, and from multinational corporations. Eisenhower wanted to overthrow Sukarno; there is a document about it. Sukarno wanted to turn Indonesia into an independent country, not one ordered around by any superpower. But the United States wanted Indonesia to become the playing field for multinationals. Sukarno didn’t want that. He was loved by the people, and that was why it wasn’t that easy to murder him. He survived seven assassination attempts. So the United States cooperated with a wing of the army that was favoring the West and the multinationals. Great Britain played the most important role in overthrowing Sukarno, but the United States was giving weapons and providing a list of people’s names who had to be murdered. The list was from the U.S. embassy. Q: You write that we’re in “The Age of Capital” or “The Age of the Triumph of Capital.” How long is it going to last, do you think? Pramoedya: Now is the absolute victory of the multinationals. Now, in reality, the whole of the Third World hopes for the aid of capital. Even the still-existing communist countries have started to accommodate capitalism. Q: But what’s their alternative? Pramoedya: There is an alternative. That’s what Sukarno taught. Do not invite capitalism, but if you want to develop, it’s OK to borrow money. I’m against capitalism but not capital. Q: Are you optimistic about democracy in Indonesia?

http://www.progressive.org/print/3334

31/1/2012

Pramoedya Ananta Toer Interview

Page 8 of 11

Pramoedya: I am optimistic. Why? Because Indonesia has the young generation, who are still in the process of forming their own identities. They are activists. They are more educated than their parents, and their hearts are pure. Q: In one of your prison notes in The Mute’s Soliloquy, you wrote that you wanted to live long enough to see the end of Suharto’s New Order. Were you surprised when he was forced out on May 21, 1998? Pramoedya: When Suharto stepped down, many reporters came to me, wanting to write about my happiness at his fall. I said, “This is just a comedy.” He’s using other hands and other faces. He transferred the presidency to Habibie. How is it possible that a president can appoint a president? Q: Do you support Sukarno’s daughter Megawati, the leader of the main opposition party? Pramoedya: I have many problems with her. How could she have played a role as a member of Suharto’s parliament after he killed two million of her father’s supporters? And as a member of parliament, she never raised the issue of those massacres, she never raised the issue of people who were robbed of their rights, such as myself. Never. She was among Suharto’s yes-men. Q: Minke, in This Earth of Mankind, says, “Maybe one day I could become a great writer like Hugo.” Now you are like an Indonesian Hugo. Are you comfortable in that role? Pramoedya: I feel I am in the place that I have chosen for myself my whole life. I feel it’s more appropriate for me to be where I am today than to be a member of parliament or a minister or president. Q: You’re often mentioned as someone who is likely to win the Nobel Prize for literature. Is that important to you? Pramoedya: Every award for me is important because it means a slap against militarism and fascism in Indonesia.

Matthew Rothschild is the Editor of The Progressive magazine. Translation was provided by Katie Greene and Francisia Seda.
Magazine Articles Magazine Interviews Matthew Rothschild

http://www.progressive.org/print/3334

31/1/2012

Sign up to vote on this title
UsefulNot useful