The fusion of historical facts and human feelings

The fusion of historical facts and human feelings

Layang-Layang itu Tidak Lagi Mengepak Tinggi-tinggi (The Swallow
Does Not Flutter High Anymore); By Martin Aleida; Emansipasi - Damar
Warga, Jakarta, 1999; 117 pages; Rp 10,000

JAKARTA (JP): If history is an abstraction of chosen facts
that show the movements of an era, memoirs and personal records
enrich it in a subjective way. This novel gives us a personal
look at the political and military upheavals of the G30S/PKI
movement, the failed coup d'etat of the Indonesian Communist
Party on Sept. 30, 1965, which remains controversial to this day.

As a literary work, this novel does not pretend to set
straight a historical record that many people believe was
tampered with by a New Order regime intent on writing its own
version of the bloodiest event in the history of Indonesia. The
author only wants to place us in a certain place and time in
history, through a very touching human approach. And this is
important because, as stated by literary observer Dr. Melani
Budianta in a statement on the back cover of the book, "history
also needs to raise the structure of feeling that cannot be
recorded only by the chronology of events, names and figures".

The novel opens in the style of a somewhat lengthy essay. It
relates the conversion of an old Catholic school building into a
political concentration camp in midtown Jakarta. Journalist
Saifullah Anwar and three friends were detained in the camp,
although no credible charges were laid against them. For the
military authorities of the time, the political leanings of the
four men was sufficient reason to detain them, although it was a
blatant disregard of the law.

Saifullah saw one of his friends return from the investigation
room with head bent, trying to hide the pain of the repeated
lashes suffered at the hands of his interrogators. The whip was
used by the interrogator to try and force a confession. He also
saw the chief editor of the newspaper where he worked being
escorted to the camp with his back torn to shreds as a result of
the whip. The editor was forced to eat a plate of sambal
(chilies ground into a paste) and plunged into a bathtub because
he then could not answer any questions. The young journalist was
fighting his own feelings. He was waiting to be called for
interrogation. He was really anguished. But fate was to be
different. He was not tortured. He was not even scolded. Finally,
he was set free.

However, the world he found outside the camp was an
environment that tortured him. The purge of people accused of
involvement in the coup attempt spared none of his acquaintances.
"His loneliness felt like another punishment. How lonely this
free world was when he was aware that he alone was enjoying it.
Meanwhile, his friends and thousands of other political detainees
were banished to places where human dignity was at its lowest.
Even children who only knew how to play games had to suffer with
their mothers, whose only fault was their loyalty to husbands who
were being chased."

When his friends accused him of gaining his freedom through
betrayal, his freedom became so bitter that he could not stand
it. He tried to pacify the upheavals of his soul by walking for
kilometers. He was in conflict with his own fate. He even thought
of his parent's will, showing he came from a pious Islamic
family, and his love letters to Mimi Damarwati, who was in the
same concentration camp, as a disaster. The letters showed that
he was not a revolutionary who must be further detained, let
alone sent to Buru Island. As a person who was alone far from
home, he should be pitied.

His loneliness and alienation in the free world were so
suffocating that he could not control his emotions. Walking along
the railroad, he chased away a swallow which formerly shared the
roof of the prison with him. The fluttering of the wings, as if
to strike his head, was like an insinuation to him. "Fly away in
the distance. If you also see me as a traitor, go away and leave
me alone. Do not disturb me. Do not make fun of me. And I do not
need pity. I can live on my own saliva," he said to the bird. The
mental conflicts which form the latter part of this short novel
are touching.

As with novels set against a political-historical background,
the piling on of facts is unavoidable. The names of political
activists, places and various events are too strange for readers
who were born after the 1960s. Readers need adequate background
information on the G30S/PKI movement before tackling this novel.
However, this does not make Layang a historical novel or a
political essay too dry for the average reader. The romanticism
of young people in the 1960s is subtly described, with the symbol
of the dove being herded. The political insinuations by the
author are sharp.

Human feces was found unflushed in the camp toilet. Nobody
knew who was responsible. "Is this an insinuation against
militarism," he writes. Mutual accusations were traded by the
detainees. It is interesting to note how the author relates the
event in an elegant way. " ... various groups made a fuss about
the human excrement and the unwillingness of the culprit to flush
it." (p. 76)

Layang-Layang, Martin Aleida's first novel, is not the
author's first work which takes the Sept. 30, 1965 event as its
background. The attempted coup also inspired the author to write
Malam Kelabu (Gray Night), one of the four short stories in Malam
Kelabu, Ilyana dan Aku (Gray Night, Ilyana and I), which was
published last year.

Layang-Layang, with a long and poetic title -- perhaps the
longest in the history of Indonesian literature -- looks like a
poetry anthology. The cover of the book depicts a soft-blue with
white clouds in procession, a red railroad track, a bird and the
protagonist hidden in the shade. The book's contents, however,
will appeal to serious readers who enjoy the fusion of historical
facts and human feelings.

-- Lilis Marliani

The reviewer is a graduate of the University of Indonesia's
School of Letters.