My mother once told me a story from early 1960s, which I always remember.
This happened when President Soekarno and my father, the Central Commitee leader of the Indonesian Communist Party (PKI) Dipa Nusantara Aidit, was visiting Cuba. There, they met with Fidel Castro, Mao Tje Tung and Che Guevara. As usual, Fidel presented his guests with his finest, the Havana cigar. My father refused politely. As Fidel, Mao, Che dan Soekarno began enjoying their cigars, they started poking fun at my father. “A fighter for the people needs to be able to enjoy a good cigar in their free time,” they said. The four great leaders then continued to demonstrate how manly and charming it was to take pleasure in a good cigar. My Dad was tempted, and drew a cigar. Soekarno could not help sniggering - he exploded and dissolved into laughter. To Mao, Fidel dan Che, he only said, “just wait and see, this will be funny.” As though responding to Soekarno's remark, Dad went into a coughing fit right after his first inhale. Mao, Fidel and Che laughed together with Soekarno, while continuing to mock my father. Finally, dad gave up. With his face reddened, he put down the freshly lit cigar into an ashtray. Soekarno knew my father very well, he knew that my father never smoked even a single stick of cigarette. Let alone a cigar! When he got home, Dad told mum about this. Mum told him, “Oh well, maybe it is time you start enjoying a good cigar like they do.” So, several days later, while winding down at night, my dad asked mum where she kept the box of cigars that Fidel gave as a souvenir. Mum smiled knowingly. This was the night that her husband, Dipa Nusantara Aidit, the leader of the central committee of PKI, the biggest communist party in the world, will start learning to enjoy a good cigar. Father started to lit his cigar. But as always, again he got into a coughing fit. This time, it was mum who exploded in laughter. She could understand then how those communist leaders must have seen dad: exactly how she saw how hopeless dad was at enjoying a cigar. Ilham Aidit #1965setiaphari #living1965 Photographs: by Agan Harahap (left), and collection of Ilham Aidit (right).
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I was 9 years old, when this film was released in 1984. Without any discussions, we were sent to the cinema (after our parents were forced to pay for the tickets) and we were forced to watch this sadistic movie. For many nights, I had nightmares, but I was also sad and angry at the PKI (Indonesian Communist Party) because, as the film portrayed, they killed Ade Irma Suryani who was just a little girl like me.
My parents always said: “don’t think too much about it. It’s just a movie.” After the second and third year of junior high school, I started reading books and it was only then that I understood my parents’ intentions. They were trying to counter the New Order propaganda in a very subtle way. They were trying to say that the contents of this movie were wrong, but not in a direct way as they were afraid that I, a child, would tell my teachers, which would have gotten me in trouble. It was only after my teens that my parents, particularly my mother, became more open to discuss the events of '65 with me. I was lucky to have parents who could counter New Order propaganda. But not all children were as lucky as I was. Many children grew up believing the lies of New Order. And now, 19 years after reformasi, my experience (and of all children of my generation) is repeating with many small children in this country. May they also be saved, just like me. I really hope so. Dhyta Caturani #1965setiaphari #living1965 |
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