Gus Dur: No ordinary father

By Yenny Zannuba Rahman

JAKARTA (JP): He took me aside that night. I still remember the urgency in his voice. He told me gently, "please be prepared if I'm taken away." I nodded and did not say anything. I could not. What do you say when your father tells you he is going to leave you?

This happened several times and although I did not understand the political situation, I knew that being put in jail was the lightest sentence he could have received at that time.

That was about a decade ago. Back then, he was fighting an uphill battle for change. Now, he is the number one man in this country and people call him Mr. President, but to us, he is still just Bapak (father).

Bapak has never been a conventional father, let alone a conventional President. He was rarely at home, yet his presence was, and is, very strong in our life.

From an early age, we knew that Bapak did not belong just to us. As long as I can remember, he has always been involved with the Nahdlatul Ulama (NU). He devoted most of his time, day and night, touring the country on behalf of the NU, a huge Muslim socioeducational organization.

"Talking to the people," that is what he called it. It is true he seldom had time to go to our schools to pick up our report cards. It was always Mom to the rescue. But he would always try to take us to a book store on the weekends.

As teenagers we craved clothes and shoes. However, he insisted we spend money on books. It was his way of teaching us that packaging does not mean anything, what counts is inside.

This is how he lives himself, and we could not help but to follow his fine example.

Fond of wearing sandals, cheap cotton batik shirts, a peci Muslim cap and dark-rimmed thick glasses, he was the most unassuming figure in Indonesian politics.

While he does not look like a modern-day politician, he operates like one and ended up winning first prize in the presidential election in October 1999.

Ever since I was a little girl, I have always been struck by Bapak's wisdom. He showed us that there are many sides to a story. And you cannot afford just to subscribe to one side only.

For him, life is like light going through a prism.

From one angle a person can see red, while from a different angle another person might see green, or some other color.

"Can't you see all the colors at once?" I once asked him.

"No, you can't," he said, "because if you could, then you would be bigger than life itself. Then you die, because there is no point in you living anymore."

I guess this conviction has misled some people to conclude that he is often inconsistent. Bapak never pretends that he knows everything because he believes that life is a gradual process and nothing comes in a single package.

He is willing to listen to any side of a story from anyone to get a degree of understanding on the matter. Just like trying to catch as many rays as possible from the prism.

Bapak introduced us to life's heroes, real and fictional, famous and unknown -- through his stories.

He loves hearing and telling them. His favorite story, which he recites many times in his speeches, is the tale of a poor, old lady.

She sells fried tempeh in the market to pay for her children's school fees. Although illiterate herself, she instinctively understands that education is the only way to secure their future.

This is an illustration of how a humble person can possess a modern way of thinking. For my father, her story is as enchanting as any biography of a world leader. As it teaches a valuable lesson in life.

Listening to wayang (shadow puppet) stories is one of Bapak's greatest pleasures. He derives much wisdom from these epic tales.

Fluent in Javanese, he memorizes the roles played by each character.

His favorite hero epitomizes his strong nationalism. Kumbakarna, the brother of Rahwana, King of Alengka, slept right through the battle fought by Rama against Rahwana after the latter kidnapped Rama's wife, Shinta.

But when Rama attacked the Alengka kingdom, Kumbakarna rose from his sleep and died defending the kingdom. Bapak says that Kumbakarna is like the NU, a giant that does not take part in any political battle, but when it is needed, it will give up its life for the country.

Life is about learning, something which never had a real meaning to me before Bapak shared his view on Kurawa and Pandawa, two of the most famous families caught in a battle between good and evil in the Mahabaratha tale.

Contrary to popular belief that these two opposing families were the representatives of dark forces against the light, Bapak thinks that life is not black and white. Bapak believes that the Pandawa are the people who attained enlightenment in life, and the Kurawa are the ones who were still in the process of achieving that goal. Of course, they made mistakes along the path, but that does not make them bad people.

Everyone knows that my father has a great sense of humor. We love listening to his jokes. But more importantly, he teaches us not to take life, or ourselves, too seriously. The ability to laugh at yourself keeps you sane in this crazy world.

Bapak tires us out constantly. Both physically and mentally. Despite his medical history, he is a very strong man. He finishes his day at 11 at night, only to start it at 4 the next morning by walking around the palace garden several times.

This is an exercise he has not done for almost 20 years, but which he faithfully follows now to keep himself healthy.

But the real strength comes from the conviction that he lives to serve a purpose in life. This sense of purpose is the driving force that makes him able to weather any criticism against him.

He is like a man who walks toward a certain mark and refuses to be distracted by anything before he reaches his objective. For he believes, he told me one time, that "the yardstick is within this," he said, pointing his finger to his chest. Be true to yourself and listen always to your conscience and you will be all right." His courage has always been a source of inspiration for us.

Bapak never preaches to us, yet he lives true to the virtues he believes in. He does not force us to be what he would like us to be; instead, he shapes us by opening up our minds through books, stories and homegrown wisdom.

While he has taught us many things, he has also taught us to think for ourselves, even if it means we criticize him. That makes him a real democrat and a wonderful father.

The writer, a former journalist, is the second daughter of President Abdurrahman Wahid. The article is taken from Questioning Gus Dur, a book newly published by The Jakarta Post. This article is dedicated to her father whose birthday falls today.