Indonesian history lesson

Friday, 10 September 1999

'History can teach us nothing' - Sting, 1987

NOT so long ago, in about the 4th Century of the Christian calendar, a renaissance took place across the Indian sub-continent. India's golden age (as it is known today) saw a blossoming of music, literature, art and poetry that continued for two centuries until invasion by the Huns in 606 AD ended the reign of the Gupta dynasty.

North India fragmented into several smaller kingdoms. Those who fled the invasion spread across South East Asia. Toward the end of the 7th century, the islands of Java and Sumatra in what was to become known as the East Indies were ruled by the Buddhist Srivijaya empire and the Hindu Mataram kingdom.

Meanwhile, back in India, Muslim invaders arrived in force toward the end of the 12th century. Over the next 200 years, Islam spread down into the East Indies. The last Hindu kingdom retreated to Bali in the 15th century.

The Muslims did not get much of a chance to consolidate. In 1498, Portuguese explorer Vasco da Gama stopped by my birthplace on Christmas Day and so naturally called the place "Natal". He went on to India, returned to tell the tale. By 1511, there were more than enough armed Portuguese on ships to be able to wrest control of the Muslim empire ruling the Malay peninsula.

The Dutch in turn went after the Portuguese, kicked them out of Malaya, took control of the spice-rich lands, and hung onto them until the turn of the 20th century.

The Dutch lost control of much of the land to the Japanese during World War II, and after the war decided that enough was enough and left in 1949 after handing power over to Achmed Sukarno. After eight years, Sukarno decided that democracy was not for him and declared martial law. He was your basic crazed dictator, thriving on excess and lunacy and driving his people into poverty.

Communism briefly raised its head in 1965 and attempted to overthrow the government in a coup. The coup attempt was mercilessly crushed by general Mohamed Suharto, who assumed the presidency.

Suharto promised reform and openness and transparency and all of that good stuff. So, 10 years later, he invaded the Portuguese colony of East Timor. In 1991, Suharto's forces were credited with the massacre of some 150000 people in Dili.

In 1994, Nelson Mandela visited Indonesia as a guest of Suharto. Astonishingly, Madiba became the first international leader to be allowed access to imprisoned East Timor leader Xanana Gusmao, with whom he held a two-hour meeting. The price of that meeting only became apparent in November 1997 when Suharto landed in Cape Town to be greeted by Madiba with a 21-gun salute and a trade accord.

I have no idea what deals were struck and whether Suharto actually intended acting on whatever promises he had made to Madiba. What did happen was that Suharto returned home to an economy in turmoil. The Asian meltdown overtook him at a dizzy rate, and by May of 1998, he announced his resignation. His deputy, Bacharuddin Habibie, assumed the presidency with limp-wristed determination to whip the country into shape.

Since then, the Muslim majority has undertaken a systematic campaign of sectarian violence, murdering minority Christians and burning down churches. When the Christian populace of East Timor overwhelmingly voted for independence, Muslim militia backed by the Indonesian military this month embarked on a campaign of genocide.

I am weary with helplessness. Indonesia has a population of some 212 million, of whom almost 90% are Muslim. The country has a defence budget of about $3,5 billion and combined armed forces of about 35 million. The 800 000 East Timorese Christians will not be able to withstand the onslaught. They will be wiped off the face of the earth long before the first American and British aircraft carriers can leave their posts in the South China Sea and make their way down to the 17000 islands of the Indonesian archipelago.

But I am particularly outraged at the silence from the Islamic nations as the world's largest Muslim country barrels down a path to the lowest depths of inhumanity.

I raised my voice with yours when Muslims were being massacred in Kosovo. I raised my voice with yours when Afghanistan and Sudan were bombed. I have raised my voice time and again in support of the people of Palestine.

Why are your voices silent now?