History That Always Repeats Itself

During a discussion class, a middle-aged woman once posed a simple question to the audience: “Do we truly understand the history of our own nation?” The room suddenly fell silent, even though the forum was discussing the future of our democracy. From that moment I realised that history apparently remains foreign to many people. History is often regarded as merely a pile of years, memorised names of heroes, or school exam material that is quickly forgotten. If educated people are unfamiliar with historical thinking, what about our policymakers and rulers?

History is not merely romanticism about the past. History is a real depiction of how injustice operates. It is only in the experiences of the oppressed common people that the traces of arbitrary power can be felt honestly. A citizen today cannot automatically enjoy their independence in full. Many still live in the shadow of fear—afraid of being seen as provoking troublemakers, afraid that their criticism will end in legal sanctions, to the point of having to restrain themselves and censor their own thoughts when speaking at the family dinner table.

Such patterns quietly operate in our national life today. Criticism is often regarded as a threat, freedom of expression is suspected of being a disruptor of stability, and the living space of ordinary people is often sacrificed in the name of instant development. The rule of law, which should be a protective fortress for citizens, often instead changes function into a tool to frighten its own people. When the law is sharp downwards and blunt upwards, that is where society’s sense of justice begins to go numb.

Honestly, power has prevailed into the present generation precisely because we are lazy about learning from past mistakes. We demand that the people always be nationalist, but those who manage the state often neglect to show ethical example. A thinker was once sharply reminded: “Whoever does not learn from the past is condemned to repeat it.” The repetition of history is not fate or a curse, but rather the result of our habit of refusing to reflect honestly.

At the same time, on the stage of every August celebration, the sermons of public officials often ring out with astonishing earnestness: “God, thank you because this nation is now independent and no longer colonised by foreign nations.” Yet we all know that the habit of oppressing, flaunting privilege, and ignoring the voice of the people is now being preserved by our own nation.

In a discussion, I once tried to compare the fear citizens feel when expressing criticism today with the atmosphere during the Dutch East Indies colonial era. A powerful official immediately protested and swore. According to him, comparing one’s own government to colonisers was an un-nationalistic act that harmed the dignity of the state. The atmosphere in the room suddenly became awkward. I told him that I was not insulting anyone, but merely inviting all of us to look at reality honestly. Should not the public sphere contain the courage to assess the state of affairs, rather than a stage for displaying sweet promises that lull us to sleep?

In the practice of statecraft today, we still find forms of injustice that the founders of the Republic once fought against—from the feudal lifestyles of officials, arbitrary application of the law, silencing of opinion, to the seizure of people’s land. Then, with the anti-criticism behaviour of officials and regulations that narrow the space for citizens to move, we seem to be forced into illiteracy about the meaning of true independence. Honestly, we have indeed succeeded in expelling the external colonisers, yet we have chosen to nurture the coloniser’s character within our own home.

Of course, we cannot allow future generations to inherit the same fear. The younger generation—including myself—must not be raised in a rigid culture of obedience. Young people must be invited to nurture common sense, to dare to question injustice, and not to be easily dazzled by ceremonial packaging. For a nation will collapse not because it lacks clever people, but because it loses those who dare to speak the truth amid fear.

The people were not born merely to be spectators at annual celebrations. The people were not created merely to wave flags by the roadside or to look up and salute the national flag and then return to living in anxiety. True independence is when every citizen has the courage to think and speak without fear. Independence is not a once-a-year party to build our awareness, but rather the courage to break the existing chains—so that we are not continually condemned to repeat the same mistakes in the future.