Keywords

Introduction

Despite the restoration of democracy in 1998, the spectre of communism still haunts Indonesia, where the Communist Party of Indonesia (Partai Komunis Indonesia—PKI) has been outlawed since 1966. Fear of communism has resurfaced through mudslinging by semi-anonymous online trolls and Islamic hardliners. Moreover, propaganda-ingrained beliefs passed from generation to generation, charging that the PKI and its affiliates or sub-groups are to be feared and to be eradicated, still persist.

When Joko Widodo, popularly known as Jokowi, ran for the presidential election in 2014, he stole the spotlight by approaching the victims of the 1965–1966 anti-communist slaughter and giving them high hopes that his administration would make a serious attempt to redress past wrongs. However, after taking presidential office, Jokowi made it clear that he would not offer an official apology. Rumours that Jokowi is a communist have nonetheless appeared on social media, and been vehemently denied by Jokowi himself.

The majority of Indonesians believe in the dominant hegemonic discourse which paints the PKI and other leftist groups as a threat to the nation. As a consequence, left-wing politics are denounced and the political landscape does not allow for progressive ideas to be formulated or expressed. This prompts the question: how can we account for the persistence of anti-communist fear in Indonesia? How has anti-communist sentiment evolved over time, and become embedded within contemporary Indonesian society?

Anti-communism as a Tool for the Military to Take Power

Anti-communism was a central force in Indonesia’s political crisis after 1965. Not only did the state violently exclude and persecute anyone identified as “communist”, but religious institutions, such as the Catholic church and the Muslim ummah, also showed their opposition to communism. Many religious actors understood anti-communism in defensive terms as support for the national ideology of “Pancasila” and for religion. However, anti-communism was not a uniquely Indonesian phenomenon but set in a Cold War context which defined transnational anti-communism by religious actors. In Australia, the anti-communist Roman Catholic movement led by Bob Santamaria would come to support the anti-communist movement in Indonesia, especially after 1965. In Italy, the Catholic Church led by Pope John Paul II (1978–2005) took a strong anti-communist position. A transnational anti-communist network thus influenced anti-communist ideas and events in Indonesia.

However, anti-communism has not always been dominant in Indonesia. In his 1 June speech at the dawn of Indonesian independence in 1945, President Sukarno introduced Pancasila as the nation’s overarching ideology. Declaring themselves supporters of Pancasila, leftist groups, such as PKI and its affiliated mass organisation Peasants Front of Indonesia (Barisan Tani Indonesia—BTI), gained enormous popular support with the PKI finishing the fourth largest party in the 1955 elections. The PKI used this to put pressure on religious groups and even to eliminate some of them from the political stage, such as Islamic Party “Masyumi”. The PKI—which had a close relationship with Sukarno—persuaded him to arrest several anti-communist religious leaders on suspicion of being collaborators with separatist group “the Free Papua Movement” (Organisasi Papua Merdeka—OPM). American evangelist Harold L.B. Lovestrand was arrested on suspicion of supporting a local revolt (Lovestrand, 2018); and Buya Hamka, an ulama (Muslim scholar), was imprisoned on suspicion of attempted subversion (Hadler, 1998).

The PKI did not gain widespread popular support by accident. While other political parties were busy with national-level politics, the PKI tried to exert its political influence by approaching people at the grass-root level. The PKI organised social activities, such as political education and literacy training, in order to build a solid mass base. Moreover, together with the Peasants Front of Indonesia (Barisan Tani Indonesia—BTI), they encouraged and organised farmers to reclaim land that was occupied by hajjis.Footnote 1 They argued that hajjis had manipulated the land reform law to obtain certain land rights and that therefore, this land must be returned to the people.Footnote 2

After Sukarno learned about the involvement of the United States and the United Kingdom in local revolts (1957–1961) (Conboy & Morrison, 2018), as well as the role of the two countries in provoking the Indonesia-Malaysia confrontation (1962–1966) (Wardaya, 2008), he came to support the anti-Western stance of the PKI. Many foreign cultural centres were attacked and burned, movie theatres that broadcasted western movies were sabotaged, and western songs were banned for being considered contrary to Sukarno’s “continuing revolution” (Muhidin & Yuliantri, 2008). The PKI accused Islamic party Masyumi of collaborating with the CIA for an anti-communist movement, which exacerbated the political conflict. Subsequently, in order to seize American-owned properties, members of the PKI attacked several churches and their properties (Willis, 1977: 83). The communists accused foreign missionaries of collaborating with rebel troops and in time made them sign a statement that they would not impede the functioning of the government (Lovestrand, 2018).

The PKI’s gains, as well as the party’s closer relationship with Sukarno, sparked a fear in other political parties as well as the right-wing army leadership that the communists would take the lead of the country (Willis, 1977: 72). One of the big winners in Indonesia’s first general election in 1955, the PKI had become the third-largest communist party in the world by the 1960s (Verelladevanka, 2022). The potential political threat that the PKI was seen to represent soon resulted in a political triangle of three forces vying for power: President Sukarno, the PKI, and the army.

Unsurprisingly therefore, certain political and religious groups became stauncher in rejecting communism (Wanandi, 2012). For instance, Catholic bishops including Albertus Soegijapranata SJ, the first native Indonesian bishop who was known for his pro-nationalistic stance, announced their opposition to communism and Marxism. Soegijapranata also took a clear stance against Sukarno’s idea of uniting the country under one umbrella, through the concept of Nas-A-Kom (nationalism, religion, and communism) (Gonggong, 2012: 117–118). Furthermore, certain religious parties lined up to openly show their rejection of Sukarno’s Nas-A-Kom idea, such as the Catholic Political Party and the modernist Muslim Party Masyumi (Steenbrink, 2015: 162). They considered communism as atheism, and therefore contradictory to the first principle of the national ideology Pancasila: Belief in the Almighty God.

However, the PKI’s political domination was brutally eclipsed. The September 30 Movement (also known as G30S), conducted by the Cakrabirawa Presidential Guards, kidnapped and assassinated seven military officers on October 1, 1965. The military, under the command of Major General Suharto, took control, and subsequently accused the PKI of spearheading the planned coup. This accusation triggered the largest anti-communist purge and mass killings in modern-day Indonesia. People were killed in military operations and militia activities, with a recent scholarly consensus settling on a figure of 400,000–500,000 victims (IPT 65, 2016). Mass arrests took place, and by 1970, 116,000 people were in detention.

The Cold War was also a contributing factor to anti-communism, as Western countries, and in particular the United States, feared that Indonesia would fall into communist hands. The United States, Britain, and Australia were engaged in operations against the PKI, supporting the Indonesian army in its repressive operations by providing training for the top military authorities, providing ammunition, and developing propaganda. Suharto, who came to power in 1967, would use fear of communism to justify the 1975 invasion of newly independent East Timor to an international as well as the domestic audience (Wahyono, 2021).

The banishing of the PKI through the enactment of the Provisional People’s Consultative Assembly Decision in 1966 (TAP MPRS 25/1966) symbolised the alignment of Indonesian politics with the Western side of Cold War bipolarity. Claiming that the army had crushed the left-wing coup attempt, the new regime of Mayor General Suharto sought to eradicate all left-wing elements from the Indonesian body politic with the help of religious and other vigilante groups.

New Order Anti-communism and the Historiography of GS30

Soon after the September 30 Movement of 1965, the military under Suharto announced the danger of communism returning as a formless organisation (Organisasi Tanpa Bentuk—OTB) or as invisible communists. The populace therefore needed to stay vigilant. The military emphasised their constant surveillance of the latent danger. In Dutch newspaper “Telegraf”, Sudomo, one of the officers in charge of the Operational Command for the Restoration of Security and Order (Komando Operasi Pemulihan Keamanan dan Ketertiban—Kopkamtib), stated that the 1965–1966 operation that followed succeeded in eliminating about 500,000 alleged communists (the 1981 Cardinal’s Social Program’s report).

Suharto’s New Order regime (1966–1998) would constantly present communism as an existential threat that had to be confronted by a united nation. Government critics were regarded as disruptive of “national security, stability and unity” and labelled as PKI sympathisers or communists (Adityawan, 2008). For example, when the United Development Party (Partai Persatuan Pembangunan—PPP), an Islamic-based political party, nominated Jaelani Naro for vice president in 1988, Suharto openly stated that candidates who lacked majority support should withdraw:

The PPP may appeal to other voices. If it does, it can be interpreted as provoking other factions to agitate. And if so, it may create mistrust among the factions...it may threaten our unity and integrity...and possibly be accused of trying to break our unity. And such a doctrine belongs only to communists. (Suharto, quoted in Dwipayana & Ramadhan, 1991, 550)

Under the New Order government, religion was increasingly exploited as an instrument of political power (Steenbrink, 2015) and press freedom was restricted (Estrelita, 2010). The military launched anti-communist propaganda, including an anti-PKI campaign. As part of this, General Sugandhi Kartosubroto, Head of the Defense Information Center and Daily Head of the Armed Forces, popularised the term “Gestapu” (September 30 Movement) to refer to the G30S, recalling Gestapo atrocities (Matanasi, 2018). Meanwhile, to emphasise the PKI’s alleged involvement, Suharto and his followers also referred to the movement as G30S/PKI.

The military authorities also spread rumours demonising members of Gerwani (also known as Indonesian Women’s Movement), a women’s organisation closely affiliated with the PKI which advocated for gender equality, including through championing women’s labour rights and taking a stand against polygamy. These rumours claimed that Gerwani activists seduced generals by performing erotic nude dances, while singing “Genjer-genjer”, a song often featured in PKI cultural performances. The women were said to then torture and kill the generals, before dumping their bodies into a well (Wieringa & Katjasungkana, 2020: 30).

The purpose of such stigmatisation was to create a regime free from the influence of communism. In 1973, Suharto inaugurated the Pancasila Sakti Monument site developed in the late 1960s. Here, the seven military officers assassinated at the G30S incident are portrayed as statues, with the mythological Garuda appearing in the background. A large bas relief depicts the chronology of events of the G30S, including a heroic Suharto giving orders. A nearby building houses several life-size statues depicting the cruel process of torture and assassination of the seven military officers by PKI sympathisers. In short, the monument shows the brutality of the PKI and the heroism of Suharto, despite the fact that the responsibility for the events has yet to be demonstrated.

A commemorative ceremony, Sacred Pancasila Day, was held at the site every 1 October throughout the New Order Regime (McGregor, 2002), and focused on Suharto’s heroism in crushing the September 30 Movement (G30S) (Adityawan, 2008: 146). The memorial service invokes how Javanese kings historically used ceremonies aggressively to display their symbolic power, in order to reinforce the legitimacy of their rule (Moedjanto, 1987).

In 1984, Nugroho Notosusanto, then Minister of Education and Culture, launched the propaganda docudrama “The Betrayal of G30S/PKI” written and directed by Arifin C Noer, which recounts the G30S through an anti-communist prism with blood-drenched dramatic effects. From 1984 until 1998, the movie was broadcasted annually on September 30 on the national television station. It was also compulsory for schools, from elementary to high school, to bring their students to view the film at the Communist Betrayal museum, housed at the Pancasila Sakti site.

The culture of anti-communism was also bred through history teaching, including a book on Indonesian history produced by the New Order government. General Nasution, one of the army generals who survived the G30S incident, commissioned several historians from the Universitas Indonesia as well as the Institute of Defense and Security History to write on G30S. This book eventually became the standard textbook for all national history books, which had to conform to the narrative of the book or else were prohibited. For example, in 1995, the Attorney General’s Office banned the book “Bayang-bayang PKI” or “In the Shadows of the PKI” published by the Institute for Studies on the Free Flow of Information (Institut Studi Arus Informasi—ISAI), which attempted to present other suggestions of who masterminded the G30S (Adam, 2018).

The Ghost of the Indonesian Communist Party in Post-Suharto Indonesia

The post-Reformasi Era, which was expected to bring change, has been caught in the shadow of the New Order. When Abdurrahman Wahid became Indonesia’s fourth president in 1999, he brought relief to 1965 survivors, partly because of his policy of removing the “ET” (Ex Tahanan politik or former political prisoners) mark from their identity cards. However, sub-district authorities record not only the names of former political prisoners accused of being communists, but also who they married, the number of children they had, and where their children went to school (Affan, 2019).

The “rise of the PKI” (kebangkitan PKI) and “the ghost of the PKI” (hantu PKI) are recurrent fears in post-Suharto Indonesia, which, as historian Asvi Warman Adam explained, are used to eliminate government critics (Setiawan, 2020). For example, in the two presidential elections of 2014 and 2019, the charges that the PKI was the mastermind of the September 30 movement were used to attack civilian presidential candidates. Arguably, the Indonesian Democratic Party of Struggle (Partai Demokrasi Indonesia Perjuangan—PDI-P) has been the most exposed to communism-related allegations, given that it was founded and is led by Megawati Sukarnoputri, the daughter of Sukarno who was relatively close to the PKI during his time as president. When Megawati’s leadership of PDI was dismissed by a Suharto-backed faction, Megawati’s followers in 1996 seized the PDI headquarters in Jakarta. The police and military attacked Megawati’s followers, and blamed the ensuing riots on the People’s Democratic Party (Partai Rakyat Demokratik—PRD), a small, leftist activist party, which was declared by some generals to be communist. Ever since, it has been claimed that there are many “communists” within the subsequently founded PDI-P (Hearman, 2014). These rumours intensified when Joko Widodo (Jokowi) was appointed presidential candidate by the PDI-P in 2014 and made a promise to resolve past human rights abuses, including the mass killings of 1965–1966 (Rahman, 2014). A 2021 Saiful Mujani Research and Consulting (SMRC) survey on “Public Attitudes Toward Pancasila and the Communist Threat” found a strong correlation between fears of PKI’s rising and electoral choices. In the 2019 presidential elections, those who believed in a PKI revival mainly voted for Prabowo Subianto, General Suharto’s son in law, who is close with Islamic groups (Saputra, 2021). This suggests that the narrative of 1965, which originated under the New Order regime to maintain its longevity, has mutated into a widely reproduced political commodity in post-Suharto Indonesia.

The Jokowi administration (2014↓) has tried to take steps towards reconciliation. In 2016, a “National Symposium: Dissecting the 1965 Tragedy, Historical Approach” was held, to which the government invited families of the victims to speak openly. The same year, President Jokowi ordered the investigation and the disclosure of mass graves of the 1965–1966 anti-communist massacres (Teresia, 2016). However, due to military opposition, these orders have yet to be carried out. Instead of following Jokowi’s orders, the Indonesian police and military responded by clamping down on anything considered communist-related. This included confiscating T-shirts with hammer and sickle logos and books on Marxism, as well as cancelling various events. These moves were supported by some conservative groups, militant groups and police and military officials, including Defense Minister Ryamizard Ryacudu (2014–2019). One of Indonesia’s most potent anti-communist militias, the Islamic Defenders Front (Forum Pembela Islam—FPI), went as far as to declare that it would not be permissible to apologise to the communist victims of 1965. Muhammad Rizieq Shihab, the leader of the FPI, stated that such an apology would only lead to the re-emergence of communist ideology and threaten Muslims (Amindoni, 2016).

In 2016, President Joko Widodo appointed Wiranto, the last commander of the Suharto-era military, to the position of Coordinating Minister for Political, Legal, and Security Affairs (Nathaniel, 2020). Unsurprisingly, during Wiranto’s tenure, no one has been held responsible for the 1965–1966 massacres; nor has the state apologised to its victims. Wiranto stated that the government had formed a joint team between the Attorney General’s Office, the National Commission on Human Rights (Komisi Nasional Hak Asasi Manusia—Komnas HAM), as well as the Indonesian Military and the National Police (TNI/Polri) to address human rights violations during the Suharto regime. However, instead of solving the cases, Wiranto argues that the government’s actions in 1965–1966, such as massive arrests and executions were rescue actions related to national security.

Events related to the defunct Communist Party of Indonesia, and to former political prisoners accused of being communists, are often cancelled or attacked citing national security. In 2016, several victim-survivors of the 1965 events, who were trying to find justice through the International People’s Tribunal of 1965 (IPT 65) in the Hague, were confronted upon their return to Indonesia by groups calling themselves anti-communist. Later, in 2017, a meeting at the Indonesian Legal Aid Institute (Yayasan Lembaga Bantuan Hukum Indonesia—YLBHI) in Jakarta of several former political prisoners was violently disrupted (Anya, 2017). In 2020, thousands of members of Islamic organisations in Solo, Central Java, gathered and held up various banners with messages demanding “Destroy the PKI”. A replica of the PKI flag was burnt at the event, to symbolise their rejection of communism (Asia Today, 2020).

In 2017, the Indonesian Military Commander, General Gatot Nurmantyo called the military to hold a public screening of propaganda film “Pengkhianatan G30S/PKI”, the narrative of which casts the PKI and its affiliates as responsible for the assassination of the seven military officers. Since then, every year before September 30, propaganda banners that encourage Indonesians to recall the “sin” of the PKI for attempting a coup in 1965 are displayed and in several places, local authorities or the military organise public screenings of the propaganda film.

Scholars and activists have tried to set history right. Just after the fall of Suharto, new Education Minister Juwono Sudarsono (1998–1999) stated that the Indonesian National History published since 1975 was unsuitable, and made sure that the term G30S/PKI was replaced by G30S tout court (Adam, 2005). However, the revisions subsequently made did not substantially change the narrative presented under the New Order regime. A 2004 Competency-Based Curriculum (Kurikulum Berbasis Kompetensi—KBK) proposed by the Minister of Education and Culture, which discussed various versions of the G30S, was not approved due to protest by Islamic elites to the House of Representatives, since it did not place responsibility with the PKI for the 1948 Madiun Affair (communist rebellion), nor the 1965 September 30 Movement (G30S) (Adam, 2018). Despite such setbacks, the pursuit to set Indonesia’s history of communism straight has continued. The historian Asvi Warman Adam coined the term “historical rectification” referring to the 1965–1966 anti-communist purge (Harbowo & Purnamasari, 2020). It has received a positive response from victims of the military regime of Suharto, because it implies that there was a historical error for three decades and, therefore, brings hope for rehabilitation (Adam, 2018). Megawati Sukarnoputri, in 2020, asked Minister of Education and Culture Nadiem Makarim to rectify the historical record about the 1965 incident (CNN Indonesia, 2020).

Successive Indonesian governments have nonetheless tightened control over festivals, film screenings, and seminars on the 1965–1967 massacres of communists, and prohibited books and documentaries. For instance, in 2009, the Attorney General’s Office announced the banning of “Lekra Tak Membakar Buku: Suara Senyap Lembar Kebudayaan Harian Rakjat 1950–1965” (Lekra never burning books, voice from Harian Rakjat, 1950–1965) by Rhoma Dwi Aria Yuliantri and Muhidin M. Dahlan, on the grounds that the book could disturb national ideology. The banning relies on the enactment of the Provisional People’s Consultative Assembly Decision (TAP MPRS) no. 25 of 1966, which outlawed communism, Marxism, and Leninism. The same year, the book “Pretext for Mass Murder: the September 30 Movement and Suharto’s Coup” by John Roosa was also banned for going against official history (Heryanto, 2014). Screenings of “The Act of Killing” by American filmmaker Joshua Oppenheimer, a documentary portraying the perpetrators of the 1965 Indonesian genocide, were shut down by police and attacked by Islamists and anti-communist militant groups. Later, his films were banned from being screened in Indonesia (Antoni, 2014), and Oppenheimer may not be able to enter Indonesia (Shatz, 2015).

The Suharto regime’s anti-communist propaganda continues to echo in Indonesia, reverberating into the future. PKI descendants bear the stigma of being children of “infidels” or “traitors to the nation”. Even the term “child of the PKI” has become a mocking insult. Uchikowati, a human rights activist whose father was arrested because of his involvement in the PKI, testifies that many children of political prisoners have had to endure such insults (author’s interview with Uchikowati, December 2014). Utati, a former People’s Youth (Pemuda Rakyat, PR) member who was sent to prison, also testified that she had to hide her identity as a former political prisoner from her children, so that they would avoid the shame (author’s interview with Utati, December 2014), and she is not alone in this experience. Lestari, a former Gerwani member, had to live apart from her children since they refused to accept her (author’s interview with Lestari, December 2014).

Conclusion

Through its preservation in the collective memory, as well as in contemporary Indonesian cultural and political life, anti-communism can be seen as the cement of a social vision. In an archipelago of thousands of multilingual, multicultural, and multi-religious islands, anti-communist propaganda succeeded in uniting people around a common narrative, which no other religion or ideology could achieve. The 1965 “victory” over a domestic enemy now conditions many elements of society in terms of values, religiosity, law, politics, and economics. Some social actors today seem to be content with this official narrative, both because of their historical responsibility for the physical and political eradication of communism, as well as their pragmatism in using a malleable and convenient tool to steer the contemporary Indonesian politico-religious chessboard.

It seems difficult today to imagine that this commemorative narrative of anti-communism will be publicly challenged, as various interests continue to converge on maintaining it. Nevertheless, this tool can be double-edged. In a society where power and religion are constitutionally intertwined, the threat of being accused of communism, which is expressed through accusations of atheism or blasphemy, is not to be taken lightly. Paradoxically, by attacking the highest institutional representatives, it can symbolically degrade the image of governmental functions and divide people, even reawakening old resentments that anti-communism had contributed to burying.

The legacy of the New Order, from this point of view, remains powerful. It is necessary to lift the veil on the reality of historical facts; to make amends for past injustices, including systematic massacres and torture without trial; to offer apologies and even compensation to former political prisoners who are still alive; to restore their rights as well as those of their families; and finally to grasp the incoherence of the alleged communist threat in order to enable progressive thinking in the Indonesian political landscape, which can only contribute to making Indonesia a rich democracy.