Gus Dur: No ordinary father

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.