john.robert_mcpherson
07 Official Reception for Palm Beach (Qld) SLSC instructional team at Waja SLSC, Kuta Beach, Bali, Indonesia. September 1977
07 Official Reception for Palm Beach (Qld) SLSC instructional team at Waja SLSC, Kuta Beach, Bali, Indonesia. September 1977.
Before anything can happen in Indonesia there must first be a ceremony. We were rather surprised that the invitees included quite a number of stony-faced gentlemen from the military and the police. These people had the seats of honour in the front rows and simply exuded power. Not one stood higher than 5 feet 4 inches. Their military bearing and uniforms made them look 6 feet tall however.
These gents were very necessary invitees as the military had its fingers in every pie, political, economic and social. They were the backbone of Suharto's regime and thus indispensable sponsors of Waja Surf Life Saving Club. Nothing happened in Indonesia during the 1970s unless it had the blessing of President Suharto. His military and his civilian political party, Golkar, had members and observers everywhere. A coconut could not fall to earth without it being known to Golkar. Publically expressed political dissent was therefore nil.
Indonesia had annexed former Portuguese East Timor two years previously in 1975, ending the civil war raging in the former colony. The action only succeeded in uniting the fractious Timorese into resistance of the occupation. I blithely committed the blunder of asking various Indonesians what their opinion of this annexation was. People either politely excused themselves or launched into loud denunciations of Communism and accusations of Communist involvement in East Timor. This baffled me as most Indonesians are happy to chat about almost anything. It was pointed out to me that I was actually putting these people in a difficult position, as any undercover observer would be monitoring their response. Lots of Little Brothers were watching. I desisted with the public questions at this revelation.
Privately people were quite forthcoming with thoughts. We dropped in to one trainee's home one evening to find the family watching parliament on the television. Some watched proceedings with gravity while others did so with hilarity. Political commentary was alive and well behind closed doors.
I better understood the reticence to comment on politics publically when a wall in Denpasar was pointed out to me as the site of executions during the anti Communist purges of 1965-6. Anyone who was denounced as a Communist was summarily executed by religious and right-wing mobs that had tacit military support. An estimated 500,000 people were killed across Indonesia and 80,000 on Bali in the purges which rivaled Stalin's best efforts at eliminating rivals.
Putting the 80,000 in context, this represents 5% of the then population of Bali -- one person in every twenty. The bloodletting was so ferocious that unlike in other parts of Indonesia the military actually had to rein in their proxy executioners. This was particularly the case when the Balinese began massacring the Chinese shopkeepers.
My informants told me that the voices of the victims could still be heard crying out for mercy on occasion. I was inclined to believe that the Indonesians -- who are often strongly inclined towards mysticism -- would expect the spot to haunted and so expect to hear the voices. I heard only traffic and felt only sadness.
07 Official Reception for Palm Beach (Qld) SLSC instructional team at Waja SLSC, Kuta Beach, Bali, Indonesia. September 1977
07 Official Reception for Palm Beach (Qld) SLSC instructional team at Waja SLSC, Kuta Beach, Bali, Indonesia. September 1977.
Before anything can happen in Indonesia there must first be a ceremony. We were rather surprised that the invitees included quite a number of stony-faced gentlemen from the military and the police. These people had the seats of honour in the front rows and simply exuded power. Not one stood higher than 5 feet 4 inches. Their military bearing and uniforms made them look 6 feet tall however.
These gents were very necessary invitees as the military had its fingers in every pie, political, economic and social. They were the backbone of Suharto's regime and thus indispensable sponsors of Waja Surf Life Saving Club. Nothing happened in Indonesia during the 1970s unless it had the blessing of President Suharto. His military and his civilian political party, Golkar, had members and observers everywhere. A coconut could not fall to earth without it being known to Golkar. Publically expressed political dissent was therefore nil.
Indonesia had annexed former Portuguese East Timor two years previously in 1975, ending the civil war raging in the former colony. The action only succeeded in uniting the fractious Timorese into resistance of the occupation. I blithely committed the blunder of asking various Indonesians what their opinion of this annexation was. People either politely excused themselves or launched into loud denunciations of Communism and accusations of Communist involvement in East Timor. This baffled me as most Indonesians are happy to chat about almost anything. It was pointed out to me that I was actually putting these people in a difficult position, as any undercover observer would be monitoring their response. Lots of Little Brothers were watching. I desisted with the public questions at this revelation.
Privately people were quite forthcoming with thoughts. We dropped in to one trainee's home one evening to find the family watching parliament on the television. Some watched proceedings with gravity while others did so with hilarity. Political commentary was alive and well behind closed doors.
I better understood the reticence to comment on politics publically when a wall in Denpasar was pointed out to me as the site of executions during the anti Communist purges of 1965-6. Anyone who was denounced as a Communist was summarily executed by religious and right-wing mobs that had tacit military support. An estimated 500,000 people were killed across Indonesia and 80,000 on Bali in the purges which rivaled Stalin's best efforts at eliminating rivals.
Putting the 80,000 in context, this represents 5% of the then population of Bali -- one person in every twenty. The bloodletting was so ferocious that unlike in other parts of Indonesia the military actually had to rein in their proxy executioners. This was particularly the case when the Balinese began massacring the Chinese shopkeepers.
My informants told me that the voices of the victims could still be heard crying out for mercy on occasion. I was inclined to believe that the Indonesians -- who are often strongly inclined towards mysticism -- would expect the spot to haunted and so expect to hear the voices. I heard only traffic and felt only sadness.