G-30-S tragedy: Between amnesia and lustration
Mochtar Buchori, Jakarta
We all know what "amnesia" means, but "lustration" is a strange word to many Indonesians. "Amnesia" means "partial or total loss of memory". "Lustration" means "purification". The meaning of the verb form of the word, "lustrate", is "to purify".
I came across these two words in an article about the former Federal Republic of Czechoslovakia. In his inaugural address as the first president of Czechoslovakia, Vaclav Havel made an appeal to his people to forgive each other for the mistakes the nation made in the past. He asked his people not to distrust each other, not to hate each other and above all not to seek revenge.
He stated that in his opinion every citizen of the country was guilty and responsible for the rise of a Communist government in 1948. He asked his people to concentrate their energy on the problems of the future, and not constantly to accuse each other for the past.
This policy was called the "amnesty-and-amnesia" policy. It can be translated as the "forgive-and-forget" policy. This policy proved to be a failure. Under the protection of this policy bureaucrats from the old Communist regime remained in their positions, and they used these positions to obstruct any new policies that might jeopardize their personal interests.
The public became restless and a new movement was born under the name of the "lustration movement", aimed at "purifying" the government of the cronies from the old Communist regime. This movement also failed to achieve its goals. The end result was that the Federal Republic of Czechoslovakia was split into two independent republics, i.e. the Czech Republic and the Republic of Slovakia.
This story about Czechoslovakia, and the great leader Vaclav Havel, made me think of our own situation in Indonesia. Forty years ago, on Sept. 30, 1965, a national tragedy occurred. It used to be referred to as the "G-30-S affair", G-30-S standing for Gerakan 30 September, literally meaning "the September 30th Movement".
The political power that came out of this tragedy was called the Orde Baru -- meaning the "New Order" -- and it quickly proclaimed that the tragedy was an abortive coup d'etat by the now defunct Indonesian Communist Party (PKI).
In academic circles, however, there is a countertheory that it was a preemptive attempt by political forces rallying behind the PKI to abort an imminent coup by the Council of Generals (Dewan Jendral). Which of these two claims is closer to the truth is thus far unresolved. Historians must still complete their academic task of uncovering the mysteries that surround this affair.
Many changes have happened since this bloody political affair happened. But these changes have still not brought about a society that is close enough to the idea of a "just and prosperous society". In spite of all the economic progress made thus far, we still cannot call our society a prosperous one. There are still too many Indonesians who live below the poverty line. And in spite of all the legal reforms attempted thus far we still cannot call our society a just one. There are still too many injustices inflicted on the common people.
This raises the question of whether we have learned enough from the horrible affair of 40 years ago, and from the tumultuous aftermath of this affair. Admittedly, we did learn a number of important things, but we failed to learn one very important lesson; i.e. the lesson about democracy building and about transforming our political culture.
We learned to reject totalitarianism, but we failed to prevent an authoritarian government. We are also not aware that we failed to learn that democracy is not only reserved for the political elite, but that it aims primarily to protect the interests of the common people.
We have failed to learn that democracy cannot be built on the basis of force, but that it requires the consent of the people. Consent cannot be obtained by threat or intimidation. The genuine consent that is the basis of a lasting democracy can come only from citizens who are fully aware of their rights and obligations.
Looking at the ways our political system works today, and the level of political literacy obtained by the people, it is really no wonder that we constantly repeat the mistakes of the past. To me, the important question in this regard is whether we will ever have the ability to learn from our past mistakes.
Our failure to learn the important lessons of the 1965 tragedy may also be caused by the fact that so far there has been no sincere or honest historical account of the affair. What we have thus far is, to use the expression of Lord Michael Howard of Oxford, "instant judgment" rather than an "historical account". And instant judgment always tell us more about the parties judging than the situation judged.
The task of our historians is not easy. For one thing, historians must distinguish between "the significant" and "the transitory", and determine whether an event is purely fortuitous or indicative of a long-term trend.
But no matter how difficult the task of historians may be, they are the only ones who can provide the nation with reliable guidelines regarding how the nation should proceed in the future to find true answers to our present problems.
The writer has a doctorate in education from Harvard University.