In Western collective memory, Moscow, Peking, Pyongyang, Havana and Hanoi are remembered as centres of socialist revolution during the tense decades of the Cold War. Yet another Asian capital is often overlooked: Jakarta. After all, Indonesia was home to the largest non-ruling communist party in the world, and the country’s left-nationalist President Sukarno was a leading figure in the global anti-imperialist movement.
The reason that Indonesia is left unnoticed in this regard is a series of events which began in Jakarta on 1 October 1965. Early that morning six of Indonesia’s highest-ranking generals were abducted from their homes and killed. Meanwhile, two army battalions occupied key positions in the centre of the city, and the group responsible for the actions announced that they had seized power. As quickly as it had begun, however, the movement was put down by forces under the command of General Suharto, who had mysteriously not been targeted. He blamed the failed coup on the Indonesian Communist Party and gave orders for the slaughter of its members. Over the next six months, the Indonesian army and a network of militia groups killed approximately half a million people and detained another million without trial. Sukarno was forced to transfer presidential power to Suharto, who criminalised leftist organisations, integrated the country into the US-led capitalist bloc, and ruled the country until 1998.
Indonesian political life still bears the scars.
Exposed is the latest historical account of these events, assembled by two leading experts on the topic, Geoffrey Robinson and Douglas Kammen. Unlike earlier works, however, Exposed is a visual history, featuring three hundred carefully selected photographs, propaganda, political cartoons, graffiti and official documents, accompanied by detailed historical commentary.
Compared with the Holocaust, and genocides in Armenia, Cambodia and Rwanda, our understanding of what the violence in Indonesia looked like remains “woefully sparse and incomplete”, write the authors. This lack of visual media has helped sustain, they contend, a “historical amnesia” concerning the mass violence and the persistence of the official army narrative.
Indonesian political life still bears the scars. The decree which outlawed the dissemination of leftist material following the army’s seizure of power remains in effect today, and it is still politically and personally disastrous to be associated with socialism or communism. The military also continues to have influence in Indonesian politics. In May, Indonesia’s culture minister announced a project to rewrite the country’s official history, which scholars have said will seek to conceal the truth about the army’s violence in 1965-66. Exposed seeks to challenge the army’s distorted account which underpins this grim legacy, and rescue historical truth from modern-day acts of damnatio memoriae.
Toward these aims, the images in Exposed give a new texture to the historical record of the violence in 1965-66. Many are heartbreaking and deeply evocative, though very few portray acts of violence as they occurred. Most of the photographs that survive were taken by the army, and as a result their content reflects a “deliberate effort to create a record that would underscore and embed in the popular consciousness their version of events.” That version stressed violent communist treachery and the peaceful heroism of the army. The authors note throughout what this means we can learn from the photographs, and what we cannot.
Perhaps the aspect of this period that emerges most vividly from the photographs is the ubiquitous student protests. At every stage, there are thousands of young people out on the streets of major cities, holding colourful banners and chanting creative slogans. It was truly a time of mass youth mobilisation, and the decisions of generals, politicians and diplomats make clear that the power of student demonstrations was taken seriously.
The left was once a vibrant and influential part of Indonesian political life.
Exposed’s greatest strength lies in its historical breadth. Just two of the book’s nine chapters are devoted to the events of 1 October and the subsequent mass killings themselves. The others cover equally important but less examined developments, including the politics of the decade-or-so leading up to October 1965, life under army detention, art and graffiti, as well as Suharto’s slow motion coup. Through this broader scope, Exposed presents the destruction of the Indonesian Left not as a six-month episode of mass violence but as a process that unfolded over many years.
The left was once a vibrant and influential part of Indonesian political life, but in 1965-66 the Indonesian army and its allies violently destroyed it. Exposed offers the most accessible account yet of how they did so. As Indonesian society continues to bear the imprint of these events, the book stands as essential reading for anyone seeking to understand the country today.