What has the Left left abroad?

What has the Left left abroad?

By Aboeprijadi Santoso

AMSTERDAM (JP): Hundreds of Indonesian exiles, scattered
across Europe for decades, are no longer "the pariah of the
nation" since President Abdurrahman "Gus Dur" Wahid invited them
to return home eight months ago. While this actually confirms the
end of the Indonesian left wing movement abroad, some politicians
resist the reconciliation.

In his noble gesture in December, Gus Dur described the exiles
as "the wandering independent fighters." That broke the ice and
soon the exiles enthusiastically welcomed the President at the
Ambassador's residence in Paris and Wassenaar in the Netherlands.
For the first time, the problem of exiles was seriously addressed
and positively responded to.

The dramatic change was marked by full support for the new
president, cherished hopes for change and dreams of home sweet
home. Most importantly, it is finally recognized that they had
unjustly lost their civil rights since their passports were
unlawfully revoked in the 1960s.

"That was clearly reflected when we met with Minister (of Law
and Legislation) Yusril (I. Mahendra) in The Hague in January,"
said exiled Umar Said.

But the euphoria is short-lived. With strong negative
reactions to Gus Dur's proposal to lift a ban on communism and to
look into the mass purge of 1965, the political beleaguering of
the President and the bloody unrest in the regions, many exiles
have started to worry about the new opportunities.

Last May, some legislators finally struck back, saying Yusril
went "to pick up the communists back home" and as a result the
minister postponed further steps.

Political reconciliation is often accompanied by pain in post-
dictatorial transitions. For Indonesia, the specter of 1965-1966,
with outdated Cold War sentiments, will continue to distort the
reconciliation as long as these events have not been fully probed
and resolved.

Most of the exiles are former students in Eastern Europe, but
many are ex (party) officials and cadres, who came to China in
September 1965 to celebrate the anniversary of the Chinese
revolution. A greater part had been associated with the
Indonesian Communist Party (PKI), the radical-nationalist
Partindo or the left wing PNI. The 1965 coup attempt caught all
by surprise and "hostaged" them abroad.

Disillusioned, they survived the mid-1960s holocaust only to
find themselves trapped in the agony of "Cold War" between the
Moscow and Beijing factions. Worse, a process of disintegration
set in as ongoing feuds continued over the 1965 debacle.

In the end, they left China because under the strict codes of
the "Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution" life took on
Orwellian tones and became unbearable. Above all, contact with
Indonesia was not possible.

Having gone through the painful experience of isolation and
internal conflict, being separated or left by their families and
losing comrades at home, they moved to Europe in the mid-1970s,
relocating mostly to the Netherlands and Germany. Fifteen years
later, the Moscow groups followed suit as they lost their
privileges with the rise of Gorbachev.

Living in exile is a life "born out of blood, pain, sadness,
anger and spirit," according to the poet Sobron Aidit, now in
Paris.

Once these communities were disarray, however, most exiles
seemed alienated from their historic cause and adapted to the
local welfare system in Europe. There was no common political
platform left on which to build an organized resistance, nor had
they ever succeeded in building one.

About 150 Indonesian exiles are now left in the Netherlands
out of some 250 who lived in Beijing in 1967, including
independent fighters of the 1940s -- the biggest exile phenomenon
in Indonesian history.

Many leaders in the past such as Tjokroaminoto, Soekarno,
Hatta, Syahrir and Tan Malaka were at one time "long distance
revolutionaries". While in exile, sometimes by choice, they
contributed a vocal resistance from outside Java or abroad. In
contrast, all post-1965 exiles became exiles purely by fait
d'accompli. Despite modern communication, "long distance
resistance" never came about.

Many accept their fate. "If Indonesia were the Borobudur
(temple) we had become tumbal (the price to be paid) for the sake
of progress," reflected a former student in Prague, Siswartono.
Others, like Wardjo, a former member of People's Youth (Pemuda
Rakyat), take a consistent attitude. "It was my choice, so it's
my risk," he said. So, although respecting Gus Dur, many exiles
do not intend to go home.

Some have turned to social democracy, religion (Islam) or set
up restaurant businesses. Children of exiles, although well aware
of their parents' fate, become professionals and generally shy
away from politics.

Very few, indeed, followed the lead of Basuki Resobowo, the
foreman of the left wing artists' body Lekra, or former Sarbupri
union leader Suparna Sastradiredja (both deceased) in actively
join anti-New Order protests abroad.

The lack of a broad resistance overseas is often explained by
the experiences of deep division and trauma. But Soeryono, a
former Harian Rakjat (PKI daily) correspondent in Beijing, offers
a different view.

"The PKI leaders are from the priyayi (lower aristocrats
turned bureaucrats) class. Not an alternative force. Had PKI won
in 1960s, it might have been similar or even worse than Soeharto
and Golkar. It was Sudisman (number three in the PKI ranks) who
built the structure of intellectually and ideologically bad
cadres."

Soeryono, an independent-minded former Pesindo (socialist
youth) leader, now residing in Amsterdam, is perhaps the only
Indonesian ever falling in disgrace with all three communist
giants, PKI, the Chinese CCP and the Soviet CPSU.

The 1965 mass purge, the lack of popular resistance, deep
schisms and the changing world conditions dealt a fatal blow to
the left wing movement at home and abroad.

The fact that this movement, at least what is left it, now
relies completely on President Wahid, a leader from a distinct
non-Marxist tradition (Nahdlatul Ulama), underlines the fact that
the movement had long been hopelessly disintegrated. Whatever its
prospects, if any, future left wing politics could only thrive
with a new generation who have no links to the remaining leftist
elements of the 1960s.

So, the Indonesian left wing movement has finally come full
circle. It has come a long, long way from a respectable tradition
of exile -- from the days of Semaoen (in Amsterdam, Moscow, Paris
1920s) to Tan Malaka (who left the Netherlands to travel in Asia
1920-1940s) -- to the end of the PKI in the late 1960s in
Indonesia and between mid-1970s and late 1980s in China, Soviet
Union and West Europe.

While it all started with unionist activities in Semarang, led
by the Dutch Marxist Henk Sneevliet in 1913, and its
international role came about thanks partly to the former Dutch
communist party CPN (the only Dutch party supporting full
independence for Indonesia), its struggle at home could only be
transformed into a powerful force because of the mass-based
Sarekat Islam.

Ironically, the movement had come to an end as a fin du siecle
as Indonesia acquired a Muslim cleric as its first democratically
elected president.

In other words, much of the Indonesian left wing movement's
failure was due to a political course based on a historical
(mis)conception, that grossly ignored the Muslim factor. The
movement had in fact been killed three times i.e. by the Soeharto
regime, by the "society", and, finally, given the internal
schisms, by itself. The late French historian Jacques Leclerc put
it slightly differently when he argued that the movement was
"killed twice": by the regime and by the historians.

Now, as its remaining elements in exile support Gus Dur,
strangely, few discords are heard when the President stops short
of calling an international tribunal for crimes against humanity
by Soeharto, that caused thousands of their comrades' deaths and
their own sufferings abroad.

Meanwhile, the decades of exile also meant a considerable loss
of human resources for Indonesia as many of the exiles,
particularly those staying in Eastern Europe, were brilliant
professionals in fields like nuclear technology, engineering,
medicine and so forth.

All exiles deserve to regain their civil rights. Few will
probably return but, more importantly, the issue is a test case
for reform and reconciliation. It calls all sides involved to
redefine their discourse. Instead of condemning compatriots to
remain pariahs in a spirit at odds with the Sarekat Islam
tradition, some Muslim parties opposing the reconciliation may
find them as partners in a fledging democracy.

The writer is a journalist based in Amsterdam, the
Netherlands.