Revisiting National Awakening and the Nation's Economic Wounds
Every 20th of May, the Indonesian nation commemorates National Awakening Day as a momentum for the birth of collective consciousness against colonialism. The name Budi Utomo is invoked, STOVIA students are remembered, and the spirit of unity is praised. However, there is one important question rarely asked seriously: why did national consciousness emerge specifically in the early 2rol century, and not two or three centuries prior when colonialism had already been established for a long time?
The answer turns out not to be solely about nationalism, education, or politics. There is a more fundamental factor closely tied to the daily lives of the people: economics. Indonesia’s national awakening was essentially born from the accumulation of long-term colonial economic suffering. Nationalism was not only born from the speeches of the educated elite, but also from failed harvests, suffocating taxes, forced labour, and the structural poverty inherited from colonialism.
In the 19th century, the Dutch East Indies became one of the greatest sources of wealth for the Kingdom of the Netherlands through the Cultivation System (cultuurstelsel) implemented since 1830 by Governor-General Johannes van den Bosch. Through this system, indigenous farmers in the archipelago were required to surrender part of their land and labour to grow export commodities such as coffee, sugar, tea, indigo, and tobacco. The results were extraordinary for the Netherlands. Economic historians note that between 1830 and 1877, the Dutch government obtained a surplus of approximately 823 million guilders from the Dutch East Indies. These funds allowed the Netherlands to pay off national debts, build railways and canals, and accelerate industrialisation. Ironically, such vast sums were amassed by the Netherlands upon the sweat and blood of the people of the archipelago.
At that time, in various regions of Java, farmers lost the space to grow their own food. Consequently, famines occurred in several areas such as Coded, Demak, and Grobogan. During the 1840s to 1850s, thousands died due to a combination of crop failures, high taxes, and colonial exploitation. Through the novel Max Havelaar (1860), Multatuli sharply depicted this irony: the indigenous people worked hard to enrich a country that was not their own.
Ironically, colonialism did not only create poverty; it also gave birth to a new social group: the educated indigenous class who began to understand how the global economic system worked. In the early 20th century, the Dutch began implementing the Ethical Policy (Ethische Politiek) following harsh criticism of colonial exploitation in Europe. The Ethical Policy brought the slogan “irrigation, education, and emigration.” Modern schools began to open, including STOVIA in Batavia. However, this education was not purely for humanitarian purposes. The colonial government required cheap administrative labour to support the bureaucracy and the rapidly expanding European companies in the Dutch East Indies. Yet, it was from these schools that a new generation emerged, capable of systematically reading injustice.
Figures such as Dr. Soetomo, Cipto Mangunkusumo, Ki Hajar Dewantara, and Tjipto Mangoenkoesoemo saw a great paradox: a land so wealthy, yet inhabited by a people who were poor and underdeveloped. The indigenous educated class began to realise that colonial development was actually designed not for the welfare of the people. The railways, which began construction in Java in 1867, were used more to transport plantation products to export ports than to serve public mobility. Modern ports, highways, and large plantations flourished, but the economic benefits flowed to European companies. In the early 20th century, foreign plantation companies controlled millions of hectares of productive land in Sumatra and Java. Local farmers often turned into cheap labourers on land they once owned themselves. This economic awareness slowly transformed into political consciousness.
Therefore, organisations like Budi Utomo cannot be read merely as cultural or educational movements. They were born amidst major economic shifts and increasing social inequality. National awakening was essentially a form of “intellectual protest” against colonial economic injustice. This perspective is important because the history of Indonesian nationalism is often too romanticised. We imagine nationalism was born only from an abstract love for the motherland. In reality, in many countries, nationalism grows from concrete economic experiences: exploitation, inequality, and the sense of being robbed.
A nation rises not just because of speeches, but when the people realise their lives are being exploited by a system. Economist and historian Benedict Anderson even noted that the birth of Southeast Asian nationalism cannot be separated from the emergence of the educated middle class due to colonial modernisation itself.
Has the Indonesian nation achieved economic independence? Reflections on the history of National Awakening feel very relevant today. Indonesia has indeed been politically independent for almost eight decades. However, the big question remains the same: have we truly achieved economic independence? It cannot be denied that Indonesia is one of the richest countries in terms of natural resources, from forests on land to fish in the sea and minerals in the earth. According to US Geological Survey data, Indonesia possesses nickel reserves of approximately 55 to 62 million metric tons, equivalent to more than 40-42 per cent of total global nickel reserves. Most of these reserves are spread across Central Sulawesi, Southeast Sulawesi, and North Maluku. Indonesia is also a major exporter of coal.