THE COMMUNIST UPRISINGS OF 1926-1927 IN INDONESIA: KEY DOCUMENTS Edited and with an introduction by HARRY J. BENDA and RUTH T. McVEY TRANSLATION SERIES Modern Indonesia Project Southeast Asia Program Cornell University Ithaca, New York Price—$5.50THE COMMUNIST UPRISINGS OF 1926 - 1927 IN INDONESIA: KEY DOCUMENTS Edited and with an Introduction by Harry J. Benda and Ruth J. McVey TRANSLATION SERIES Modern Indonesia Project Southeast Asia Program Cornell University Ithaca, New York 1960 Second Printing 19691960 by Cornell Modern Indonesia ProjectPREFACE The rebellion of the Indonesian Communist Party in 1926-2? was a significant event which had a considerably greater impact on Indonesia’s subsequent political development than the actual strength marshalled by the Communists might suggest. Very little has been written about the rebellion and its hackround, and the documents necessary for Its study have been extremely difficult of access, even to those who read Dutch. We have felt that translation and publication of the three reports here presented would be useful to those seeking a fuller understanding of this period of Indonesia’s modern history —· one which has remained nearly as obscure as it is important. The Introduction should help the reader see these documents in their proper context and give him a fuller appreciation of the nature of the rebellion and the conditions which nurtured it. The two editors — Dr. Harry Benda9 Associate Professor of History at Yale University, and Ruth T. McVey, Research Associate in the Cornell Modern Indonesia Project — have both done extensive research in modern Indonesian political and social history, Ruth McVey being currently en- gaged in completing a major study of Indonesian Communism during the period 1920 - 192?. The first of the three documents here presented, the report of January, 1927 by the Governor General of the Netherlands Indies, was not secret, but enjoyed a very limited circulation, primarily in the Volks- raad (the largely advisory council of the Netherlands Indies) and the Dutch Parliament. Its full official title iss Politieke Nota over de Partij Kommunist Indonesiag Rapport Waarin is samengevat wat gebleken is omtrent de actie der Partij Kommunist Indonesia, (Nederlandsche - Indische Kommunistische Partij), sectie der 3de Internationale, vanaf Juli 1925 tot en met December 1926. /"Political note concerning the Indonesian Communist Partys Report wherein is summed up information which has come to light concerning the action of the Indonesian Commu- nist Party (Netherlands Indies Communist Party), a section of the Third International, from July, 1925 up to and including December, 1926._/’ The second document, generally referred to as the Bantam Report had a very restricted circulation, and today apparently only a few copies exist. Its full official title iss Rapport van de commissie voor het onderzoek naar de oorzaken van de zich in de maand November l92S~Tn verscheidene gedeelten, van de residentie Bantam voorgedaan hebbende ongeregeldheden, ingesteld bij het Gouvernements-besluit van Januari 26, No. H (Weltevredeng Landsdrukkerij, 1926)., / The report of the Commit..-.. sion installed by Government decision No.lx oT January 26, 1927, to in- vestigate the causes of the disturbances which took place in various parts of the resid^gcy of Bantam in November, 1926 (Weltevredeng State Printing- House, 1928)./XI The third document, the political section of the West Coast of Sumatra report, has as its full and official title: De Gang Per Kommunistische Beweging Ter Sumatra's Westkust, Peel £ (Politiek gedeelte) Rapport van de Commissie Van Onderzoek ingesteld bij het Gouvernements-besluit van 13 Februari 1927 No. 1 a (Weltevreden: Landsdrukkerij, 1928). [The course of the Communist Movement on the West Coast of Sumatra, Part I (Political Section), Report of the Investi- gation Committee appointed under the Governmental Pecree of February 13, 1927, No. 1 a (Weltevreden: State Printing House, 1928).] This was marked "Geheim: Voor den Pienst" [Secret: for the Service] by the Netherlands Indies Government, ana not until shortly after the conclusion of the war did the Putch Government grant permission for publication of the valuable sociological section of the report based upon the analysis of the highly respected Putch scholar, Pr. B. Schreike. This important service was provided in the first volume of Indonesian Sociological Studies: selected writings of B. Schreike, W. van Hoeve and the Institute of Pacific Relations, (The Hague, 1955). Apparently however, neither the Netherlands Indies Government nor the Putch Government has ever granted permission for the extremely important political section of this report (that part which is here presented) to be declassified and released to the public. I wish to express my appreciation to the Government of the Republic of Indonesia for having granted me permission to publish this document. The Cornell Modern Indonesia Project is indebted to Mrs. Elizabeth Maijer for translation of the Governor General’s Note and the Bantam Report, and to Professor Harry Benda for translation of the political section of the West Coast of Sumatra Report. Ithaca, New York November 15, 1959 George McT. Kahin Pirector Continuing demand for this study has lead the Cornell Modern Indonesia Project to issue thxs second printing. Increased publication costs over the past 10 years has necessitated an increase in the price above that charged in 1960. November, 1969 George McT. Kahin PirectorIll TABLE OF CONTENTS CHAPTER Page PART I. The Governor General's Report I. THE ILLEGAL METHOD IN PRINCIPLE AND EXECUTION...................................... 1 II. REVOLUTIONARY TRADE-UNION ACTIVITY AND STRIKES 4 III. CONTACT BETWEEN THE THIRD INTERNATIONAL AND THE PKI VIA THE EAST, WITH SINGAPORE AS PRINCIPAL LIAISON-CENTER............... 8 IV. TERRORISM, WITH THE BAND OF CRIMINALS DRAWN Xa.'A INTO THE PARTY AS AN ORGANIZED FORCE: RESULTS 10 V. TERRORISM IN THE FORM OF STRIKES, RIOTS AND REBELLION IS THE DIRECT RESULT OF A WELL- CONSIDERED PLAN OF THE COMMUNIST LEADERS BOTH HERE AND ABROAD............................. 12 VI. THE MOHAMMEDAN RELIGION IN THE SERVICE OF COMMUNIST PROPAGANDA........................... 17 VII. INCREASE IN PKI AND SR MEMBERSHIP SINCE THE DJOGJAKARTA CONFERENCE AS A RESULT OF THE CAMPAIGN BY THE CENTRAL EXECUTIVE, WHICH HAS LONG SINCE AIMED AT VIOLENT OVERTHROW OF THE LEGAL AUTHORITY................ 18 PART II. The Bantam Report I. BANTAMESE SOCIETY............................. 19 The Existing Situation.................... 19 Character of the People....... 19 Economic and Intellectual Development..... 20IV CHAPTER Pago Social Structure.......................... 20 The Masses.............................. 21 Economic Differentiation............... 21 Religion............................. 21 Descent................................... 23 Criminality........................... 23 Public Service........................... 23 Desa Administration...................... 23 Local Differences....................... 25 Menes.............................. 25 Labuan............................... 25 Tjilegon and Anjer.................... 25 Social Changes............................. 25 Economic Changes......................... 25 Religious Life. . ....................... 26 Associations......................... 28 Influence of Changes on the Various Groups.................................... 30 II. THE ADMINISTRATION. ... ........................ 32 Organization.................................. 32 Boundary Changes........................... 32 Delegation of Authority.................... 32 Transfers.................................. 33V CHAPTER Page Administrative Corps . . . ................. 32 The European Administration. 33 Native Administration.................... 34 The Administration in Operation 36 Grievances of a General Nature............ 37 Grievances Concerning Religious Questions. 37 Special Grievances Concerning the Administration............................ 38 III. THE REBELLION 40 Characteristics............................. 40 The Rebels.................................. 40 The Causes of Rebelliousness................ 41 Grievances 41 The Promised Utopia....................... 42 The Possibility of Success................ 43 Religion.................................. 43 Propaganda Methods........................ 45 Influences Against Communism................ 48 Non-Communists in the Desa................ 48 The Sarekat Islam......................... 48 Islam. 48 The Attitude of the Central Government.... 49 Local Administration...................... 50 The Impression Made on the Population by the Government's Attitude 50VI CHAPTER IV. PROPOSED MEASURES Bas is ........ Organization... The Principal Fault of the Present Organization........... The Desa, Division of Desas. Remuneration of Desa Heads and Desa Administration....... ............... Election of Desa Heads The Desa Elders....... The Native Administration. Restoration of the Regency of Tjaringin..................... More Officials..... Choice of Officials Training of More Bantamese for Administrative Service......... More Housing for Assistant Wedanas.. The European Administration........... The Field of Activity for Assistant Residents........................... More European Officials. . ........ . , Choice of Officials................ Resident's Office. .............. . . . Page 51 51 51 51 52 52 53 53 53 54 54 54 55 55 56 56 56 56 57 57vii CHAPTER The Police and Army...................... . . . Constabulary............................. Regional Criminal Investigation Department.............................. Police.................................... Policy..... Policy of the Central Government.......... Preventive Action....................... Action during and after Disturbances.... Local Policy.............................. The Relationship to the Kiais........... As Few Measures as Possible............. Special Measures ............. Measures Concerning Non-religious Matters................................. Measures Concerning Religion............ (1) Child marriages ................... (2) Rel igious teachers................ (3) Marriages and divorces............ (4) Institution of Friday services.... APPENDIX APPENDIX APPENDIX APPENDIX APPENDIX I. . . . II. . . III. . IV. . . V. . . .. Page 57 57 58 58 60 60 60 60 61 61 61 62 62 62 62 63 63 64 67 68 69 71 72Vlll APPENDIX VI................. APPENDIX VII AND FOUR TABLES Table 1. ............... . Table 2...... ......... Table 3. ...... ........ . Table 4................. APPENDIX VIII............... APPENDIX IX. . . .......... APPENDIX X................. . APPENDIX XI........... ..... APPENDIX XII................ APPENDIX XIII................ APPENDIX XIV AND TABLE....... Table................... APPENDIX XV................. . APPENDIX XVI................. Page 73 74 76 78 79 80 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 90 92 96IX CHAPTER Page PART III. Political Section of the West Coast of Sumatra Report I. THE COURSE OF THE COMMUNIST MOVEMENT ON THE WEST COAST OF SUMATRA.......................... 97 Communist Activities in the Years 1923 through 1925. . ............................. 97 Baars on Communism and Nationalism........ 97 The Character of the Communist Movement on the West Coast of Sumatra in the Initial Period. . ......................... 98 Organization and Extent of the Movement................................... 104 Communist Literature and Courses in 1925.. 107 The Failure of the Movement of 1925 and the Sentiment among the Leaders........... 112 Communism in 1926........................... 115 The Solo Resolution of December, 1925 and Its Consequences on the West Coast of Sumatra................................... 115 The New Tactics.... 119 The Collection and Manufacture of Arms.. 120 The Illegal Action in General. The Instructions from the Central Committee of the P.K.I. Relating to This Action and the Standpoint of the Communist International.............. 122 The Action among the Peasantry.......... 124 (1) The changed tactics of the Communist International and their causes.............. 125X CHAPTER (2) The effect of the changed tactics on the writings of Tan Malaka..... (3) The Moscow instruction to the C.C. of the P.K.I. of May 4, 1925, and their significance for the Commun- ist tactice of 1926, ......... (4) The foreign policy of Russia.. ... . The Insurrectionary Movement................ The Effects of the New Tacts on the West Coast of Sumatra, Organization of the Movement in 1926........................ . . . . Tan Malaka and the Insurrectionary Movement.......................... The Insurrection................... Page 129 138 143 145 145 153 158XI Introduction I The revolts in West Java and on the West Coast of Sumatra dealt with in the documents translated in this volume were, at one and the same time, traditional and modern phenomena. They were traditional in the sense that such predominantly rural uprisings had punctuated Dutch colonial rule in the Indies for several decades, if not for centuries. In many respects - not. least in the part played by local Islamic leaders - the events of the 1920’s not only closely resembled the rural unrest of earlier times, but they seemed to flow from the same, or at least very similar, causes as had inspired their predecessors. The distinguishing modern features of these insurrections lay in both their size and the character of their leadership. Unlike the revolts of the earlier centuries, those of the twentieth were not limited to one region or even to one island; and it was only in the twentieth century that a central leadership, largely urban in origin and inspired by modern ideologies and organizational tactics, had sought to direct traditional peasant unrest into new channels. In fact, the events of 1926-1927 were unique only to the extent that they were Communist-led, for it is equally true that, as such, they constituted not a beginning, but rather the end of what might be called the proto-nationalist phase in modern Indonesian history. That movement had started with the meteoric rise of Sarekat Islam two decades before, and it was the last sparks of that earlier mass movement which some communist leaders fanned into short-lived and suicidal insurrections in the mid-1920’s. In the context of‘colonial history, the rebellions of 1926/27 mark a decisive turning point. They irrevocably closed a chapter in colonial policy, even if its demise was never officially proclaimed or admitted by the Netherlands. The policy that was quietly being interred, the sp-called Ethical Policy, enunciated by young Queen Wilhelmina in 1901, had inaugurated a new era in Dutch colonial thinking. its originators had sought to replace the exploitation of earlier times, whether governmental or private, by an etatisme aimed, on the one hand, at building a protective wall between the population and Western enterprise, and, on the other, at introducing reforms designed to accelerate the social, economic and political evolution of Indonesia under govern-Xll mental aegis. It is true, of course, that the implementation of both these aims had encountered stiff opposition from vested economic interests at home and from equally vested bureaucratic and other interests in the colony. But the men of Leyden (Leyden University was the center of the Ethical movement, and its Indological Faculty was providing Indonesia with increasing numbers of expertly trained and liberal- minded administrators) had fought a valiant, and by no means unsuccessful, battle for the acceptance of their paternalistic liberalism in the Indonesian civil service, in the Netherlands parliament and in public opinion in the metropolitan country, if not in the colony itself. The first world war had, more- over, signally aided the spread of liberal notions concerning colonial administration and the concomitant ascendancy of the Ethical movement was reflected in the persons selected to serve as colonial minister and governor-general, and in the reforms - implemented or envisaged - in the colony during and immediately after the war. Before long, however, the pendulum started to swing away from welfare policies, innovation, experimentation and liberalization. As a result of perturbing Indonesian develop- ments, the Ethical movement and its propounders increasingly found themselves on the defensive from the early 1920’s on. Little by little the pre-Ethical conservatism in colonial policy - even though it came to use an at times misleadingly modern vocabulary - gained the upper hand. When the Communist- led rebellions took the authorities and European investors and residents by surprise, the men of Leyden were accused of having brazenly conjured up the very monster that was threaten- ing Dutch authority in the islands. Dutch liberalism in matters colonial was not, it is true, dead; but it never was able to recoup its strength sufficiently to affect the post- rebellion colonial policies of the Netherlands to a marked degree. To what extent, we may well ask, were the critics of the Ethical policy correct in blaming its propounders for the turbulence of the 1920*s? To the extent only that reforming zeal had indubitably accelerated Indonesian social and poli- tical evolution. In fact, the men of Leyden had not only been overly hasty in their grandiose plan for the rapid modernization of Indonesian society at all levels, including the village level; they had also, perhaps, sinned in naively assuming that their social engineering could proceed along evolutionary channels which, in turn, could be controlled and guided from above. They had, in other words, failed to realize that the new era, however skillfully and paternalistically induced, would tend to lead to a chain reaction of changeXlll not all of which would be desirable - from either the Dutch or the Indonesian point of view - or for that matter fore- seeable and hence controllable. When, therefore, the twentieth century produced an increasingly revolutionary climate in Indonesia, the Ethici found themselves in the unenviable position of sorcerors’ apprentices unable to stem the tide of violence and turbulence engulfing their good intentions and unable, too, to disclaim responsibility for their unwanted offspring. Yet, while Ethical reformism may well have been the un- witting midwife of revolution in Indonesia, it was by no means the evil deus ex machina (any more than was communism) of its vehement critTcs"; It is only too obvious that these critics chose to ignore that the revolts of the 1920's, as much as the preceding unrest under the aegis of Sarekat Islam during and immediately after World,War I, were basically no more than modern versions of traditional unrest, especially peasant unrest, in the islands. Essentially, agrarian unrest was the well-nigh inescapable concomitant of economic and social forces generated by the collision of Western enterprise and colonial rule with the traditionally static societies of the Indonesian peasantry. The resulting social disintegra- tion had gained momentum during the nineteenth century, when modern Dutch political and economic control had started to penetrate the archipelago ever more profoundly. If the enemies of the Ethical movement thus to all intents and purposes refused to recognize the real causes of the re- cent revolts - even though these were by no means ignored by the two commissions of inquiry appointed by the colonial government - they seemed to be equally oblivious of the fact that it was impossible effectively to insulate Indonesia from the outside world, and that, to a large extent, the Indonesian revolts - soon to be followed by others elsewhere in Southeast Asia - were but one of the signs of a larger Asian awakening in the twentieth century. If progressive colonization had helped to loosen the traditional ties of Indonesian life, outside events, whether in the Middle East or in other parts of Asia, had generated an atmosphere of restlessness and change, a potentially revolutionary climate, from which Indonesia could not be excluded, irrespective of the specific colonial policies followed by the Netherlands in the islands. The impact of Western economic and political control had, for generations, been silently undermining the fabric of Indonesian society. In spite of the traditional 'indirect' rule practised by the Netherlands, the authority and prestige of the Javanese nobility, the priyayi, had suffered a steadyXIV decline under Dutch rule. Nominally still vested with their age-old prerogatives, and at some periods (notably during the Culture System, between 1830 and 1870) in fact granted additional arbitrary powers, the priyayi elite had nonetheless in fact been degraded to a hereditary bureaucracy entirely dependent on Dutch support. In subsequent decades, priyayi prestige - and to a lesser extent that of traditional heads in the other islands - was being progressively eroded when private entrepreneurs, in search of land leases and agri- cultural labor, by-passed the aristocracy and sought direct contact with village heads, and when administrative centrali- zation - Vaptly accelerated by the welfare policies of the Ethical era - more or less openly and more or less impatiently tended to relegate the indigenous bearers of traditional authority to insignificance. This gradual breakdown of the Indonesian political hierarchy took place in a peasant society whose isolation was likewise waning under the impact of new economic vistas. Opportunities to produce and sell cash crops, as well as opportunities to seek wage employment in European estates and urban enterprises broke through the walls of the closed Indonesian community of the past. Would-be entrepreneurs and laborers - a nascent middle class and a nascent proletar- iat - were contracting out of the prescriptive adat of their ancestral environment, seeking new avenues for social pro- motion and personal expression, opposing the status quo and its representatives and thus constituting a potential clientele for political radicalism. Admittedly these newly emerging social strata formed but a tiny minority within an as yet more static agrarian landscape; yet the commotion they brought with them, the feeling of change generated by, and through, them was bound to spill over into wider layers of the peasantry. Rural unrest was bound to grow whenever the new groups saw their ambitions thwarted or, conversely, when these ambitions had caused disruption within their communities It was bound to erupt whenever the grievances, of whatever kind could be sharply focussed under a determined leadership able to direct social malaise against a specific adversary. It was, as we indicated, the kind of leadership that was the really novel feature of twentieth century unrest in Indonesia. At earlier times, the most frequent and, for that matter, the only logical candidates for such leadership had been the local Islamic teachers and scribes. It was they who in pre-modern times had constituted the only elite stratum independent of the priyayi aristocracy in Indonesian rural society, and, as in other Muslim lands, for the greater part living in a world of semi-hostile seclusion from the powers-XV that-were. Traditionally, revolts of the Indonesian peasantry against authority, native or alien, had tended to crystallize around the Muslim ulama, and the age-old suspicion of the nobility towards the scribes was paralleled by Dutch fears of Islamic 'fanaticism' throughout the eighteenth and nine- teenth centuries. As the reports in this volume indicate, the Muslim ulama still played a far from insignificant role in both the Javanese and Sumatran uprisings of the 1920's. But however vital their role at the village level had remained, they were no longer the prime actors in the revolutionary drama. In the twentieth century they had ceded that role to urbanized, partly Westernized, Indonesians, who were not only newcomers on the social and ideological scene of the colony but who also welded the local or regional discontent of earlier times into nation-wide, or at least supra-regional, mass movements without precedent in Indonesian history. These young men formed yet another new stratum in Indonesian society, an intelligentsia of a socially very heterogeneous origin. Some of its members were recruited from the nascent urban bourgeoisie or the new landowning class mentioned before; but others were descendants of aristocratic families, and others still came from the peasantry andhad risen through education, whether Islamic or Western, to some prominence. Their ideological significance lay in the fact that, irrespective of their place on the political spectrum, they were the first important links between Indone- sia and the outer world in modern times. In the early part of the century, the new Indonesian intelligentsia had primarily been influenced either by Dutch liberalism or by Islamic reformism. Before long Continental socialism and, especially after the October Revolution in Russia, Marxism came to claim many adherents in the colony. Nationalism proper, largely born among Indonesians educated at overseas, primarily Dutch, universities was relatively late in arriving on the scene, and belongs organizationally to the post-revolutionary period of the mid-1920's. During the first two decades of the century ideological cleavages between reformist Muslims, liberals, socialists and communists were less pronounced than the radicalism and anti- colonialism which united them. Indeed, so powerful was the trend towards radical action that it appeared to silence potential internal contradictions not only within the new intelligentsia but also those existing between the urban new- comers and the orthodox ulama in the countryside. This blurring of the lines typified, the early leadership ofxvi Sarekat Islam, whose mass support - reaching some two million ’members"’ in 1918 - stemmed from peasants led, as of old, by local ulama, but which was yet guided by a conglomerate of 'national’ leaders comprising modern Muslims (among them the movement’s charismatic leader Tjokroaminoto) and atheistic communists. As will be later seen, the marriage of convenience between reformist Islam and communism was officially ended in the early 1920's. But both reports in the present volume show that that divorce was achieved more completely at the summit than in the country at large. In Bantam Residency as well as on Sumatra’s West Coast communist leaders had been able to elicit widespread Islamic support, particularly among the less sophisticated orthodox village scribes. In Bantam, most Islamic Sarekat leaders had held aloof from the insurrec- tions, whereas xn Sumatra some reformist zealots had worked hand-in-glove with the communists. In the eyes of Dutch administrators, especially those hostile to the Ethical policy, the appearance of the new intelligentsia - of whatever ideological orientation - and the ease with which it had to all intents and purposes been able to arrogate to itself the leadership of the Indonesian masses caused profound alarm. Even among the Ethici, who were eagerly awaiting a positive Indonesian response to the educa- tional, social and economic stimuli of their programs, the growing turbulence of these early responses created something of a shock. But what to the men of Leyden appeared to be regrettable if in many ways perhaps unavoidable growing pains of a rapidly maturing Indonesian society seemed to the con- servatives the beginning of the end of Dutch control in the archipelago. The debate between these two interpretations was gaining momentum during the early post-war years which witnessed the mass agitations, petitions and demonstrations of the Sarekat Islam. The violent upheavals of November, 1926 and January, 19’27 to all intents and purposes ended it, with conservatism emerging triumphant. Fundamentally, the conservative critics - soon reinforced by the persuasive arguments of Dutch legal scholars of the Indonesian adat, or customary law - argued that the rebellions had demonstrated the dangers inherent in a loosening of Dutch administrative control, and in particular in the progressive undermining of traditional native authorities (the priyayi aristocracy on Java and the chiefs in the other islands) fhat had accompanied the reforms of the recent past. Losing faith in its traditional leadership, so the critics argued, the peasantry had fallen prey to the newcomers, the new intelligentsia, and had been swept along in the tide of revo- lution against its own will, if it had not - as both reportsxvii attest - frequently been coerced to join by means of terrorism. In this reading of the facts, the gradual undermining and, in the Ethical era, the virtual abandonment of 'indirect rule', the cornerstone of Dutch colonial policy of earlier times, had created a dangerous vacuum between ruler and ruled; it was this vacuum that had served as an opening wedge to the radical 'rabble rousers' of the Sarekat Islam and, quite recently, to the communists. Both commissions hinted that, the priyayi corps might have been ignorant of the impending storm or, worse still, that it might have failed to report the signs of the gathering clouds to their Dutch superiors. A two-fold alienation - of the people from their traditional leaders and of the priyayi from the Dutch - thus clearly lay at the bottom of all the colony's recent ills. This analysis of the causes underlying the insurrections logically led to the reorientation in Dutch colonial policy which we have already referred to in passing. Though out- wardly the Netherlands did not abandon the welfare theme of the Ethical era, and though the institutional structure erected in the preceding years was retained, the 'agonizing reappraisal’ of the 1920's was to leave the constitutional shell designed in the Ethical era emptied of its most essential content matter, The far-reaching powers vested in the governor general and the wide powers of arrest in the hands of the police with its rapidly expanding Political Information Service, which had already increasingly impeded political activities before the insurrections, were now broadened to include exile, banishment or imprisonment of any- one suspect of radical leanings. These repressive measures were accompanied by the strengthening, often the artificial propping, of the authority of the traditional elite groups in the archipelago. This seeming return to 'indirect rule' in actual fact was to serve as a cloak for more stringent Dutch control behind the facade of the priyayi and their counterparts in the outer islands. The primary aim was, quite clearly, to preserve, or rather restore, the 'closed community' of the Indonesian village as much as possible, and thus to insulate the Indonesian peasantry from the urban agitator. The new colonial policy was not, however, without its intellectual rationale. Repression and even retrogression of the new trend could partly be rationalized by the notion formulated by Dutch legal scholars who themselves were all but 'reactionaries' - that it was dangerous to force social engineering on the Indonesian community from above as long as that community was not yet ready for it. Rather than attempting rapid Westernization by means of education, welfareXV111 programs of vast dimensions and political experimentation with quasi-democratic and quasi-national institutions, the various Indonesian group communities, all with their own distinctive adat, traditions, mores, and established authorities, should be allowed to grow organically - and under continued overall Dutch tutelage - into more modern and viable polities. Whatever the attractions and merits of this colonial philosophy, it seemed to dovetail only too conveniently into the conservatism of the Dutch colonial bureaucracy, of parliamentarians in the Netherlands, and of public opinion, especially among the European and Eurasian inhabitants of the colony whose aversion to Ethical reformism had turned into panic during the revolts. In terms of short-term effectiveness, repression and the new 'indirect rule' seemed to yield the desired results. The waves of unrest, fanned for the last time in the abortive insurrections, subsided, and rural apathy - already, as we shall presently see, on the increase before the events of the mid-1920's - became well- nigh universal in the wake of the insulation of the peasantry from urban leaders. Economic disaster, following the world- wide depression of the 1930's, forced the Indonesian peasant to concentrate on problems of sheer survival, and thus quelled the last remnants of latent political radicalism in the countryside. The most stubborn agitators, communists and others, had either fled the colony or had been exiled to the Boven Digul detention camp in New Guinea. The era of turbulence in colonial Indonesia was a matter of the past. Rust en Orde (Tranquillity and Order), outwardly at least, were Έο reign supreme until the end of Dutch rule. It was in this era that Indonesian nationalism proper had to make its hesitating debut and to suffer the restrictions of police surveillance and administrative conservatism bequeathed to it by the traumatic events analyzed in the reports in this volume. Little wonder that so many members of the Indonesian intelli- gentsia, whether 'secular' nationalist or Islamic in their orientation (the communists having been virtually eliminated or reduced to utter impotence), frustrated in their social, political and ideological aspirations, were to welcome the soldiers of Greater Japan with a sigh of premature relief, if not with enthusiasm, in March, 1942. II Having briefly sketched the significance of the communist- led revolts of 1926 and 1927 in the context of colonial history, we will now try to assess their intrinsic meaning.XXX Our subsequent account of communist organizational activities will lend substance to our thesis that these revolts were primarily Indonesian, internal uprisings in which interna- tional communism and its spokesmen in the colony played tangential, rather than originating or causal, roles. It is understandable that the commissions appointed by the colonial government to inquire into the causes of the revolts were doing their utmost to stress the evil influences of an alien world conspiracy upon Indonesian events; yet both commissions - and in particular that entrusted with the Sumatran inquiry - presented more than sufficient materials to show that if some communist leaders had succeeded in instigating the outbreaks (and as will be seen they were in a small minority, and acted without approval from Moscow), they had not created, but had found fertile soil for revolutionary action in parts of Indonesia at that time. The locales of the two major uprisings require a short comment, primarily for the purpose of barring too hasty generalizations about the Indies at that time. The communist leaders, it is true, had aimed at a large-scale rebellion, which was to have engulfed many parts of Java and Sumatra, but it may have been more than accident that open and more or less sustained insurrections were limited to Bantam Residency at the western end of Java and to the Minangkabau region on the West Coast of Sumatra. Neither region, however, was (or for that matter is nowadays) typical of Indonesia, or even of Java. While exhibiting vast differences between them, they yet shared certain characteristics which facilitated the spreading of radical agitation. Both areas were, by Indonesian standards, fairly wealthy, fairly thinly populated, and, in addition, free from Western estates. The relative wealth stemmed from private entre- preneurship in both regions; in ever increasing numbers, individual Indonesians had in recent decades moved into agricultural production of cash crops which in the post-war years had tended to yield good - though by no means steady - profits. The economic condition of the colony had, moreover, been steadily improving since the short-lived recession of the early post-war years. Taxation, as both reports make clear, had not noticeably burdened either the Minangkabaus or the Bantamese - at any irate, it had not risen pari passu with the increasing accumulation of wealth. Bantam was not only distinguished from the rest of Java by its relative wealth and, low population pressure One of its outstanding characteristics was, indeed, intimately connected with its prosperity, for Bantam was Java’s individualXX istic province par excellence. Settled over the centuriee by a variety of immigrants from other parts of the island, Bantam had not followed the rest of Java in copying the communal and familial pattern which is the backbone of the Indonesian peasant communities elsewhere. The absence of this traditional bond of integration had, at one and the same time, allowed economic individualism to flourish without inhibitions and made Bantamese society unstable, unruly, and difficult to govern. What the region lacked in social cohesiveness it made up for with a fanatical Islamic orthodoxy. Apparently stubborn individualism had combined with religious fanaticism to create an atmosphere of sullen opposition to colonial rule which could easily be ignited into insurrection by both communist and Muslim leaders. If Bantam is a good example of anomie rooted in the absence of integrative social forces” theMinangkabau region is an equally good example of a 'closed community' exposed to the disintegrative pressures of the modern world. Where individualism seemed to flow naturally from the heterogeneous character of Bantamese society, it erupted with increasing vehemence in the tradition-bound matriarchal village republics of Sumatra's West Coast. Once modern communications had linked the area to the outer world and thus opened up possi- bilities of catering for the export market, many young Minangkabaus - among the most energetic and most intelligent of Indonesians, whose share in the republic's elite groups is far out of proportion to their community’s size - had thrown themselves with gusto into new economic opportunities. Others had thronged into education, religious as well as Western. Before long, the newly rich (or semi-prosperous) and the newly literate (or semi-literate) found themselves at loggerheads with the established authority of the adat chiefs and established mores, especially the communal adat concepts regarding land tenure and inheritance laws. These new frictions, heightened by the spread of Islamic reformism in recent decades, had been superimposed on the long- standing feud between adat authorities - allied to the Dutch since the Padri War of the nineteenth century - and Muslim ulama. Obviously, there was enough ferment, enough pressure on age-old institutions by malcontents, to render the Minangkabaus susceptible to radical propaganda and insurrec- tionist activities. Indeed, the Sumatran rebellion, in spite of its territorial limitations, was bloodier and of longer duration that its Javanese predecessor, and the military had to be called in to pacify the area. What, then, was it that had attracted Bantamese and Minangkabaus to the cause of rebellion in the 1920's? ForXXI all but a very few of those swept into the insurrections it certainly was not communism as such, nor yet a vague longing to live under a Soviet system of alleged plenty and equality (for we must not forget how little had at that time been achieved by the Bolsheviks and how much less most Asians knew of Russia theh). Communist party propaganda, as long as it had strictly adhered to the Marxian gospel, had fared very poorly among the bulk of the rebellions’ supporters - the second of the concentric circles of the communist party’s following, as we shall presently call it. Wherever communist leaders had managed to rally to their cause large-scale support they had done so by playing on the grievances and ill-defined aspirations of Indonesians in many walks of life, though significantly enough rarely among the poorest strata of the population. The revolts were certainly not bred in misery among poverty-stricken or exploited peasants and laborers living under the yoke of Western imperialism. Tenancy, population pressure and the proletarianization of coolie labor - generally the most common causes of agrarian unrest in Asia - were absent in both areas that had nurtured the insurrections. Rather than despair it was very likely hope that had inspired so many Indonesians to believe in the cause of revolution; or rather, variegated, and contradictory, hopes of different classes and groups, that seemed to converge. These hopes, together with the frustrations accompanying their tardy ful- fillment, had led thousands of Indonesians into the communist - led uprisings. What seemed to be in the air was the feeling of change. To some, mainly the beneficiaries of economic and social improvement, change was perhaps too slow, too obstructed by alien overlords, foreign capitalism and their native allies. To others, change had taken place too fast, and too incomprehensibly: they desired a return to allegedly better, more tranquil, more orderly days; and, once again, they could place the blame for all their grievances on the colonial power. The communists, close to ail these accumulated ill feelings, were ready to promise everything to everyone: More riches to the rich, no taxes to the poor, more mosques to the pious, more jobs to the semi-literates. If frustration and anti-Dutch sentiment were, then, the twin pillars of the insurrections, nationalism proper was as yet by and large absent from the events of the mid-1920’s, These were proto-nationalist revolts rather than nationalist risings. The slogan reverberating in Bantam and in the Minangkabau was "Kemerdekaan!” (Freedom) rather than theXXI1 "Indonesia Merdeka" (Free Indonesia) of later years. The notion of an Indonesian national state was, in other words, weak, or even unborn, among either the leaders or the follow- ers of the revolts. The freedom for which they were fighting was an anarchistic, individualistic freedom - a freedom from colonialism, a freedom to attain personal goals, rather than an ordered freedom in a new national polity. Ill The three accounts of the Indonesian uprisings trans- lated in this collection throw light on the role of the Communist Party in the revolt from differing angles: the Bantam report concentrates on the sources of support for the party among the general population of the area; Schrieke's account of Communism on the West Coast of Sumatra concerns itself chiefly with the activities of local and regional Communist organizations; and the account issued by the Governor General describes the activities of the party's central leadership and its relations abroad. This variety of approach provides us with a broad picture of the rebellion's social and political background, one of the few glimpses we have into the sources of Communist activity in an Asian land. At the same time, the accounts overlap enough so that to some extent we can check their accuracy by comparing them, a precaution which is particularly necessary in the case of the reports concerning the activities of the central party leader- ship in preparing for the revolution. This is perhaps the weakest point in the accounts, since Dutch knowledge of the party's activities gained largely from police reports and the confessions of minor party officials, was none too accurate or complete; but since at the same time the reports do sketch the history of an area and period of Communist activity about which we know all too little, we should perhaps treat the histories presented here as much with tenderness as with care. (1) (1) The account issued by the Governor General is a particular sinner in this matter, partly because its compilers were governed by an evident desire to paint the uprisings as the product of a well-directed plot by Moscow in their selection of materials to report. There does exist a more detailed version of this report which notes more extensively the sources for its information and makes greater mention of variant accounts of the events leading up to the revolts; this edition, however, was allowed only very limited circulation and has not yet been released for general publication.XXI11 On reading these accounts of Communist activity during 1925 and 1926 - the period preceding the uprisings - we are struck by the grave state of disorder which seemed to pre- vail in the central party's relations with its units in the provinces. Local Communist officials, it seems, worked as much on the basis of rumor as on the inspiration of instruc- tions from the center; regional organizations sometimes followed, sometimes rejected the Central Committee's instructions. Conflicting factions existed within the party, and an important role in Communist activity was played by groups which functioned as movements almost completely autonomous from the regular party leadership. In the end, we see the central leadership itself split apart, so that just before the uprisings there were no less than three factions claiming to head the party: an emigre leadership in Singapore, which had decided for revolution and had sent to Moscow for approval of its plan; a central committee in Batavia, which had concluded that rebellion would be suicidal and had declared itself independent of the Singapore leader- ship; and a revolutionary council which rejected the authority of the Batavia center and aimed at immediate revolution, with or without the Comintern's imprimatur. The growing disorganization of the Indonesian Communist movement can be ascribed in part to the difficulty in com- munication caused by the increasing restrictions on party activities imposed by the colonial authorities ana in part to the fact that the PKI was never the well-articulated mono- lith a Communist party should ideally be. However, this is by no means the entire story. The bonds which linked the movement's elements were also strained and, in the end, broken by a crisis within the party which had been a matter of urgent concern for the PKI's leadership at least since 1924. It was a crisis which the party leaders were unable to resolve and their decision to embark on a near-hopeless rebellion was in a sense a surrender on their part to the forces which they had been unable to bring under control. In this sense, the decision to revolt was taken from weakness and not from overweening strength; it was marked by a decline in Communist power and discipline that continued until the movement wiped itself out in an abortive and disorganized revolt. The crisis to which we refer had its roots in the vari- egated composition of the PKI's following. We can best describe the nature of the party’s support as consisting of two concentric circles, though the boundary diviaing these groups was anything but distinct. The inner circle was drawn largely from city workers and from individuals with some education who supported the party not only because ofXXIV its promise to throw out the Dutch but also from a general sympathy with Communism's social and economic views. This group was generally associated with the party itself or with the Communist-oriented labor unions, while the largely rural outer circie of the PKI's following was gathered about the party-directed "people's unions", or Sarekat Rakjat. The outer circle was far larger, and it was only by virtue of the fact that the PKI enjoyed its support that Indonesian Communism was a movement of serious political importance, since the Indonesian urban proletariat and disaffected in- telligentsia of that time were hardly an adequate base of support for a major party. At the same time, however, the task of maintaining the support of this mass following presented problems of so grave a nature that the party leadership found .itself seriously tempted to sacrifice this major source of strength. The Communist Party united these sources of its strength on one point only, that of revolution against the Dutch. The party's mass support looked for the rapid achievement of this goal and if it seemed that its fulfillment lay far in the future they rapidly concluded that they had nothing further in common with the movement and lost interest. This naturally placed the PKI under great pressure to produce tangible evidence that it was working to bring about the promised revolution, a necessity which involved the party in adventures which incurred the government's wrath. The party thus found itself in a political vise, squeezed between a following which demanded action and a government which viewed Communist activity with an increasingly jaundiced eye. This situation is, of course, not at all an uncommon one for a revolutionary movement claiming mass support, and it had been experienced in Indonesia only a few years before by the Sarekat Islam. As we have remarked, the SI expanded greatly in membership and revolutionary fervor during the first years of its existence. By 1921, however, the more moderate SI leaders were forced to conclude that they would have to abandon revolutionary agitation if the movement was not. to be crippled by the government or captured by its most rebellious elements. As a result they broke with the Communists, who had hitherto existed within the Sarekat Islam in the same fashion as the Chinese Communists did within the Kuomintang of the 1920's, and turned the organi- zation into a religiously-oriented party. The Communists gathered up the revolutionary elements of the Sarekat Islam into the Sarekat Rakjat, which they founded in 1923, and in so doing they inherited the Sarekat Islam's major strength and its major problem.XXV It may be argued - though opinion one way or the other can only be speculation - that the PKI might have found relief from its dilemma if it had been able to find a source of unity for its following other than that of rapid revolu- tion, even if it were nothing more complicated that a leader who could make himself recognized as the representative of the masses. This, however, was much more easily said than done. For one thing, the party did not lack in leaders who might have provided the charismatic touch necessary to rally a considerable following - Tan Malaka provided excellent evidence of this in later years - but since the government found it expedient to exile or imprison indefinitely its more outspoken opponents it was impossible for one person to remain long in the revolutionary spotlight. As for a social or economic program that would unite the party's following, we have seen from the varied composition of the PKI's following how very difficult it would have been for the party, had it been so inclined, to develop its activities in such a way as to maintain popular enthusiasm and yet avoid bringing down the government's easily-aroused, anger. Islam, had the party been able to fully embrace that cause, was not a sufficient basis, as was witnessed by the dwindling member- ship of the non-revolutionary Sarekat Islam, The atheist credo of Communism was a disadvantage to the PKI, as the party's leaders pointed out in vain to the Comintern. None- theless, there was a large Islamic Communist movement under the suzerainty of the PKI, and in the last few years before the revolt the local Communist units paid less and less attention to whatever qualms the center had about enlisting religion in their cause. It is an open question as to whether the international nature of the Communist movement seriously hampered the PKI in utilizing the cementing force of nationalism, but we are inclined to think on the basis of existing indications that had the PKI been of a purely national nature it would not have greatly altered its situation We must remember that the party did make considerable use of nationalist appeals to gain public support, while on the other hand nationalism was not then the driving force in Indonesian politics which it later became. The Sarekat Islam, for example, had been notably internationalist at its most popular period, its two major wings being attracted to the internationalisms of Pan-Islamism and Communism The Indonesian sense of political unity during this period seems to have arisen from common opposition to Dutch rule rather than from a feeling of national character or identity. The PKI’s position was made more difficult by the factxxvi that after 1920 popular discontent began to recede. The restlessness that had accompanied World War I grew less marked with the return to relative economic well-being and the restoration of the normal state of governmental affairs. Moreover, people began to lose interest when they realized that political organizations, no matter how great their support or violent their threats, could not stir the colonial government to significant reforms; and the authorities' increasingly unfavorable attitude toward opposition led many erstwhile revolutionaries to agree that discretion was the better part of valor. After 1919 the Sarekat Islam's membership began to dwindle, and by 1921 apathy had made serious inroads in its support. The quarrel with the Com- munists cost both wings of the movement a good deal of support, since the intra-party struggle disillusioned many of its followers with politics. The revolutionary remainder over which the PKI assumed leadership was a chronically disaffected melange whose political activity tended to swing between outbursts of anti-Dutch terrorism and apathy at the party's inability to produce the promised revolution. In spite of Communist efforts to organize this following into disciplined units and to instill into it some attach- ment to Marxist ideas, it remained extremely difficult for the PKI to hold its interest and to prevent it from endanger- ing the party's safety by unnecessary terrorist adventures. This problem of maintaining enthusiasm was compounded by the unfavorable development of the government's attitude towards political opposition which heralded the approaching eclipse of the Ethical Policy. Although it was not until 1925 that the Dutch abandoned all pretence of applying the Ethical Policy to the revolutionary movement, it was evident for some time before this that the policy's advocates were on the defensive and that governmental opinion regarding mass participation in Indonesian politics was growing increas- ingly unfavorable. The new restrictions imposed by the authorities hit the PKI particularly hard, and it became more and more difficult for the Communists to carry on legal activities and to maintain open communication with their following. Long before the government finally declared the PKI illegal, the open existence of the movement had been rendered all but impossible. The dilemma posed by these circumstances had become a pressing problem for the PKI by 1924, and at the end of that year the party held a conference in Jogjakarta - further described in the reports translated here - at which it attempted to find a solution for the problem. There were, the Communist leaders considered, two possible courses toXXV11 take. One was to give up efforts to maintain the outer circle of the PKI’s following and to concentrate on its proletarian core; for only in this manner could the movement maintain itself as a disciplined unit capable of surviving government persecution and making long-range plans for revo- lution. While it was true that the Indonesian proletariat was minute numerically, the Russian working class at the time of the October Revolution had not been much larger; what was necessary was not a large and unruly following but an elite that would be capable of taking advantage of a revolutionary opportunity when it occurred. The Central Committee, sponsoring this argument, proposed the disband- ment of the Sarekat Rajkat and the concentration of Communist attention on improving the strength and discipline of the urban proletariat. The committee’s view was, however, opposed and defeated by the rest of the conference, a striking indication of the central leadership's weak con- trol over its branches. The dissident opinion held that the urban proletariat was too weak a reed to lean on, an opinion that was rather well borne out the following year, when the Communist labor unions launched a disastrous series of strikes; the reprisals against the unions and their adherents which were the chief product of this effort so crippled the revolutionary movement among the city workers that that group made only a peripheral contribution to the 1926/27 revolts. Instead of relying entirely on the Indonesian prole- tariat's still infant strength, the opposition argued, the party should seek revolutionary support from all possible sides; for since the government gave every sign that it was moving towards an elimination of communism in the Indies, it was essential that the communists prepare to overthrow the Dutch regime before it succeeded in reducing the Communists to political impotence. The final decision was a compromise; the Sarekat Rakjat was not disbanded but was instead to be allowed to die gradually, its most reliable members being absorbed into the party itself. At the same time, it was decided to make plans for the carrying out of rebellion in the not-too-distant future. The decision on the Sarekat Rakjat was an unsatisfying one, and the issue continued to divide the movement, eventually even exciting Comintern participation in the debate. The PKI’s rapid development toward rebellion and the worsening communications between the center and the local units prevented the party's plans for the SR from being carried out before both movements were declared illegal. At the same time, the second aspect of the Jogjakarta program - the decision to prepare a rebellion - created new dissentions.xxviii Now that the time had come to make specific plans for rebellion, a number of the party's leaders balked at the idea that it would be possible for the PKI in its deteriorat- ing condition to touch off a successful revolution. Plans would have to be delayed, they argued, until the party had more assurance of popular support and/or until approval and assistance had been gained from the Comintern. The less patient party leaders replied that a revolution would have to come quickly if it were to come at all, and that once it had been set off the Indonesian people would surely rise in its support. Moreover, many of them assumed, a rebellion against the Dutch was such a worthy cause that outside sup- port would be automatically forthcoming. The debate con- tinued for nearly two years, right up to the eve of the Javanese revolt, and it split the party hopelessly. In the end, as we have seen, there were three centers of PKI leadership, each with different plans regarding the timing of the revolt; and the local Communist units existed in almost complete confusion as to the revolutionary schedule. The reports translated in this collection relate the activities of the PKI during this last period of preparation for the rebellion. They describe the party's efforts to nerve itself for the undertaking, to secure for itself a maximum of support, and to prevent impatient elements from taking arms before the appointed date. From the portrait they paint emerges an image of the PKI as a movement which, having gained momentum towards a goal, has become possessed by that momentum and finds that it cannot alter or slow down its course. In the process, the official leadership of the party became less and less able to direct the course of events, and influence over the party passed into the hands of the most radical elements. In 1925, Tan Maiaka and his supporters were still able to persuade a good portion of the party to postpone the revolt; but a year later the decision of the Central Committee in Batavia to delay the revolution was ignored, and even the Comintern's advice against rebellion was rejected by those who received it. IV In this discussion of the conditions within the PKI which produced the attempt at revolution, we have thus far ignored the Comintern's influence on the party's policies, and some explanation for this should now be made. There are two reasons why we consider the role of the International in the creation and resolution of the PKI's crisis to have been a peripheral one. First of ail, the pressures whichXXIX brought about the Indonesian party’s dilemma were internal ones, arising mainly from the nature of the party's support and the tightening government attitude towards disloyal activities. It was a crisis which could have affected any Indonesian revolutionary movement, and, as we observed, it had in fact confronted the Sarekat Islam in its radical period. Secondly, the basic policies of the Indonesian Communists during almost the entire period were determined by or forced on the party leaders without the direct par- ticipation of the Comintern. This is understandable, since distance and Dutch opposition rendered communication between the International and Indonesia uncertain and tardy. The Comintern was generally ill-informed of conditions in the Indies, and specific instructions to the party, when given, were often inapplicable to the situation in which the party currently found itself. Thus the International urged the restoration of the alliance with the Sarekat Islam long after all possibilities for cooperation between that move- ment and the PKI had ceased to exist and after the SI had ceased to be of great value as an ally. Moreover, the Com- intern's Asian policy was determined largely by its view of the Chinese situation, which was on most points quite dif- ferent from that in Indonesia, It is understandable in this light that the Indonesian Communists tended increasingly to interpret the Comintern’s advice in such a way as to fit their own ideas of what the party's policies should be. A good example of this is the discussion at the Jogjakarta conference of December 1924 over the implications for the party's program of the decisions made by the fifth Comintern congress and the Pan-Pacific Labor Conference, held earlier that year. If we read the Comintern’s accounts of these meetings we discover that their message was, in spite of the radical slogans and the emphasis of proletarianization of the Communist parties, an essentially conservative one as far as rebellious activity and coopera- tion with non-proletarian groups was concerned. This was not how the radically-inclined PKI leaders presented it to the conference, however; and in this light it is not surprising to learn the Profintern representative to the Pan-Pacific meeting had complained of the leftist stand adopted by the Indonesian delegates, who had only been persuaded with difficulty to acceed, with reservations, to the Comintern- proposed program for cooperation with nationalism. In the two years preceding the Indonesian revolts the Comintern came to devote more attention to Asia, largely as a result of its apparent successes in China. By this time, however, government restrictions had reduced the always-thinXXX line of communications with the Indies to a mere wisp; and at the same time the Indonesian Communists had proceeded far along a road from which it was more than difficult to return. The International's advice to concentrate on legal activities and to broaden contact with other parties must have seemed irrelevant to a movement whose possibilities for legal activity were approaching the zero point and which possessed very little opportunity or inclination for working with other existing parties. As a result, the Comintern’s advice was generally ignored, to the annoyance of the International. Stalin's only comment on the PKI was made in this period, when he unflatteringly portrayed it as the prime example of leftist deviation in a colonial communist movement. All this does not mean that the radical leaders of the PKI considered the defiance of Moscow's recommendations to be a declaration of independence from the International; there seems rather to have been a feeling that if the Comin- tern were aware of the actual state of affairs in the Indies it would adopt the same view they held. This, as well as the hope of gaining material aid, seems to have been the purpose of the expedition to Moscow undertaken by the pro- rebellion PKI leaders. It seems unlikely that they expected that the International would say no, although that, it seems clear, is what the Comintern did. The revolt did take place, and apparently not without the encouragement of the emissaries to Moscow. Even this, however, did not mean a break with the International, for after the rebellion the two leaders returned to Moscow and shortly thereafter appeared as officials within the Comintern itself. As the above shows, distance and the fact that the International's honor was not deeply involved in the events in Indonesia lent a suppleness to Comintern-PKI relations that was at times little short of amazing. In this most important sense the situation of the PKI was quite different from that of the only other important Asian Communist move- ment of the time, the Chinese Communist Party. The pressures on the PKI in this period arose from conditions inside Indonesia and not from outside influences; it can thus be studied as a purely Indonesian phenomenon much more easily than can the concurrent history of Chinese Communism, which was so deeply affected by Russo-Chinese relations and the decisions laid down by the Comintern against the background of the feud between Stalin and Trotsky.xxx i V In retrospect, we may observe the rebellions of 1928/27 from three points of view in evaluating their meaning for Indonesian history. For both the development of Netherlands Indies colonial policy and the growth of Indonesian political organizations they marked a turning point of major importance. As we have seen, the rise of the revolutionary movement forced the proponents of the Ethical Policy to the wall, and the revolt dealt them their mortal wound as a dominant political force. The uprising also marked the final agonies of the first Indonesian mass political movement, and as such closed an era in modern Indonesian history. The new-found hopes and ambitions which had fired popular enthusiasm for the Sarekat Islam and which had turned to bitterness and rebellion under the PKI now subsided into apathy. None of the political movements which arose in the colonial period after 1926 were able to achieve the mass following once boasted by the Sarekat Islam and the Communist Party; and it was not until Japanese rule replaced the Dutch that the masses again played a role in Indonesian politics In these two respects the revolt marked a turning point in Indonesian history. In the third sense, however, the uprisings represent not a beginning or an end but rather the sudden, violent illumination of a process of social change which was and still is deeply affecting Indonesian society. We have already remarked those circumstances which subjected the social fabric in the Bantam and Minangkabau areas to such a strain that at those points it was torn by revolt. The rents were patched, but could not be rewoven; nor could the stress be eliminated, for the process of change has not ceased.PART I The Governor General’s Report of January, 1927 Politieke Nota over de Partij Kommunist Indonesia; Rapport, Waarin is samengevat wat gebleken is omtrent de actie der Partij Kommunist Indonesia, (Nederlandsche-Indishe Kommunistische Partij), sectie der 3de Internationale, vanaf Juli 1925 tot en met December 1926. /Political Note concerning the Indonesian Communist Party: Report wherein is summed up information which has come to light concerning the action of the Partij Kommunist Indonesia (Netherlands Indies Communist Party), a section of the Third International, from July, 1925 up to and including December, 1926_y1 CHAPTER I THE ILLEGAL METHOD IN PRINCIPLE AND EXECUTION The action carried out by the Communist leaders in .the period from July, 1925, to the end of December, 1926, may chiefly be regarded as in rigid compliance with the resolutions adopted at the fifth world congress of the Communist Inter- national in Moscow (mid-1924) and at the Djogjakarta conference of Communists (December, 1924). Those of the world congress fall under two headings: (a) reorganization of the parties by means of the so-called cell-system (in trade unions, political organizations, factories, workshops, desas% kampungs,*etc.); (b) Bolshevization of the parties, i.e., the increasing of each member’s propaganda and agitation activities to as great an extent as possible. To that end the organization commission of the Executive Committee of the Comintern (ECCI) has drawn up draft statutes for all sections of the Third Inter- national, which have been incorporated in a publication of the Third International of January 29, 1925, and which were adopted at a sitting of the Enlarged Execu- tive held in March/April, 1925» The decisions reached at the world congress are clearly reflected in the so-called "Report of the PKI executive" drawn up by Aliarcham for the Djogjakarta conference, in which the writer concludes by saying that PKI action must among other things aim at establishing and supporting revolutionary trade unions as fully as possible; at the overall enlargement of those sections having an effec- tive potential in the revolutionary movement against capitalism; at disciplining members, and increasing their quality; and at spreading revolutionary propaganda and carrying on agitation everywhere. At the Djogjakarta conference itself Aliarcham elucidated certain points by saying that the PKI is a dangerous party, because it comes within the province of proletarian leadership, and the proletariat, because of its circumstances in life, will be forced at a given moment to rebel. It will then be the duty of the PKI to give revolutionary guidance to the workers in their struggle, and it will not be sufficient to call strikes, even if these are combined with sabotage, but an attempt will also have to be made to assume power, for which purpose there ought to be a revolutionary organization. Hence, according to Aliarcham, the party ought to consist of groups of ten (ten-men groups) who have the courage to act individually. Aliarcham’s recommendation is completely in line with a statement made by Semaun in the now-defunct Pandoe Merah, No. 5 (September 1924), in connection with the proceedings at the fifth world congress in Moscow which he had attended. Commenting on the Leninist doctrine which had provided the driving force of the Moscow congress, he advised extremists to impress upon their minds Lenin’s theses that the struggle against capitalism must be transformed into a rebellion of the people in their native country supported by the strength of the peasants, and that when the revolution had been successful there should be established a dictatorship of the workers and peasants (a Soviet government) which would repress the capitalists by force of arms (which arms must be in the hands of the workers and peasants). *Ed's Desa: Indonesian Village, or, in some areas, a group of hamlets. Kampung: Indonesian village or quarter within a town or city.2 In the recommendations of the leaders Aliarcham and Semaun may he seen an incitement to the practical application of a stipulation in the statutes of the Communist International—the stipulation that the latter’s aim is to struggle with all available means, including armed force, for the destruction of the international bourgeoisie and the establishment of an international Soviet republic as a transitional stage towards the complete abolition of the state. They also urge the practical application of what is laid down as a commitment of the various sections in point 3 the conditions for admission into the Communist International, viz. that alongside the legal organization a corre- sponding illegal one should be established which would assist the party at decisive moments in performing its duty towards the revolution, and that it is of vital importance to combine the legal work with the illegal in all countries where the Communists as a result of martial law or emergency laws are not in a position to carry out all their work within the law. As has also become apparent from the instructions issued by the PKI executive in the first half of 1925, (l) it is, in this connection, clear that the execu- tive started to establish illegal fighting organizations by means of the ten- (or five- or three-) men groups in order to comply with the commitments imposed on the sections by the Communist International. These groups were in due course to render armed assistance to the party in the struggle for power. It must here be mentioned that Aliarcham also pointed out at the Djogjakarta conference that the incendiarism and bomb-attacks which had taken place in some parts of Java (2) had been completely ineffective because of insufficient organi- zation, and that those persons who were prepared to commit such acts of terrorism (1) One point mentioned in these instructions is that it is the duty of the Communists (who are already working under difficult conditions, but whose task will be even heavier in the future, viz. when the government of the state is in their hands) to gather forces which will be courageous in battle as well as in their convictions. As regards convictions, group leaders ought to be well informed of the leaders* intentions concerning the action to be carried out in order to gain power in the state. In this connection skill in the ex- planation of Communism is not sufficient; there must also be skill in applying the tactics which can lead to the victory of the people’s movement led by the party. These two factors, courage to fight and' conviction, cannot be separated, since the mere will to start fighting, without any tactics, gives rise to an unorganized situation,, the final result of which is by no means certain. Hence in the preparations for battle tactics should first be con- sidered by the central executive, which is best acquainted with the strength of the whole army and the party. Thus in the interest of the future struggle the members should maintain discipline, in other words every member is for- bidden to deviate from the plan set up by the whole party and the central executive. Furthermore everything should be done to educate the people to as great an extent as possible, and those elements who are presumed to be ad- herents of a Sarekat Hed.jcfc or suchlike organization should be drawn into the party, so that they can assist in defeating the enemy, whereby it must be remembered that a party member, who also acts as commander in the Communist army, is of greater importance to the leaders if he remains steadfast at his post and does his utmost to cause the downfall of the enemy in battle (let alone a battle against the Sarekat Hedjo, which only exists for a certain time) than if he withdraws from the battle out of fear. (2) In Central Java in 1923. *Ed: Sarekat Hedjo : the "Green Union", an Indonesian anti- communist strong-arm organization, which, not without sympathy from the autho- rities, broke up PKI and Sarekat Rakjat meetings, intimidated Communist supporters, etc.3 (arson and. murder) would therefore first of all he provided with revolutionary training, while they should he given a sense of organization hy being admitted to the ΡΚΊ. Certain points were defined in more detail hy Alimin at a meeting held March 22, 1925»at the central office of the PKI in Weltevreden, (3) a meeting which was attended hy a number of people of had reputation. There the agitator explained the PKI’s objective, pointing out among other things that the party is not hostile towards those who steal from the enemy because this would bring the government into difficulties and would prevent the money which had been obtained by bleeding the little man dry from being put by or taken to Europe or used for the benefit of governmental institutions (police), in which connection the PKI proposed to search the kampungs for criminals (pendjahat) who would then assume the leadership over fellow-criminals. A third of the goods obtained by crime would be for the offenders and two-thirds for the PKI., From this it is likewise apparent that the party leaders also intended to enlist criminals in the illegal groups. That this was a means of propaganda recommended by the Communist International is confirmed not only by the passages quoted above from the statutes and conditions for admission into the Communist International, but also by what the press reported early in 192^ concerning re- volutionary activities in Bengal following the attempted murder of the head of the Sakanritolla post office. It then came to light that political clubs had been formed there with the aim of committing murders and driving the Europeans out of the country; the clubs planned first to organize large-scale robberies in order to accumulate the necessary funds to carry out the plan. Another way in which the above statement has been confirmed is through knowledge acquired con·’ cerning the preparations made by the Communist Party in Germany in the fields of politics and military strategy, viz. that the German Communist Party’s organiza- tion of armed force is planned along the lines of hundred-men groups (in factories, etc.) which can be united into regiments and battalions and (if they have had no previous military experience) trained in the use of fire-arms and street-fighting. Furthermore there is the so-called Reichscheka as a section of this military organization at the disposal of the party--which ’'Cheka” was straightforwardly labelled an "organization for murder" in connection with what came to light at the Leipzig trials in February, 1925· (3) Transferred to Bandung, May, 19264 CHAPTER II REVOLUTIONARY TRADE UNION ACTIVITY AND STRIKES Since the propaganda drive carried on by the executive in the second half of 1925 fell principally within the realm of trade union activities, it is desir- able to deal with this point first. This activity was first and foremost a logical consequence of the decisions taken at the Pan-Pacific Labor Conference held in Canton in the second half of June, 1924,and attended by Alimin and Budisutjitro as delegates for Java. In connection with,.this congress the Russian Wo jinsky:iwrote in a Third International publication of September 6, 1924,that, among the colonial and semi-colonial countries in the East, South China was the only place where the delegates of the oppressed peoples could peacefully meet each other in order to discuss methods of combatting world imperialism and estab- lishing national revolutionary organizations, and that the opinion expressed by the Javanese delegation at the congress, to the effect that all the revolutionary organizations of the islands and shores of the Pacific Ocean should be called upon to join hands in the defense of this area against imperialism, clearly re- flected the political significance of this congress of workers in the Pacific for the near future. The decisions of the Canton conference, which was attended by both representa tives of the Communist International and of the Red International of Labor Unions (Profintern), were summarized by Alimin and Budisutjitro at the Djogjakarta con- ference, where Alimin stated that the following were the principal subjects dis- cussed at the congress: (a) the unity of the transport-workers in the whole of Asia, the strength of which could be employed as a weapon when the time for radical action had come; (b) cooperation with all political movements of a revolutionary nature in the whole of Asia, in order to rebel against Western and Eastern imperi- alism by force, in which connection--according to the speaker—the Red Eastern Labor, of which Ibrahim Datuk Tan Malaka was also a member, had been established at Canton. This body was designed to maintain the link between the transport-workers' associations, in particular those of the dock-workers and seamen in Asia, viz. China, Japan, the Dutch East Indies, the Philippines, India, Singapore, Siam, etc. The Communists should not, however, confine themselves to working among the dock-workers and seamen (though these should be canvassed first and foremost), but should also try to obtain influence and leading positions among transport- workers, industrial workers, and miners, in order to be prepared at the outbreak of war in the near future in Asia and the Pacific, when America and Japan would be the first, belligerents. These statements were supplemented by Budisutjitro, who declared that, although the Kuomintang action in China and the movement in the Philippines were largely nationalist revolutionary movements, the Communist championed not only the class struggle (the struggle against capitalism) but also the struggle against imperialism (foreign domination), and that for this reason the Javanese delegation at the Canton conference had been prepared to cooperate with all revolutionary movements in the whole of Asia, regardless of whether those movements were based on Communism. *Eds "Wojinsky": Voitinsky, one of the major figures in the Comintern's Far Eastern Bureau, later accused of Trotskyism.5 It is in the light of the afore-mentioned perfectly obvious as to why the Communist leaders decided, as a result of their conferences held at Djogjakarta and shortly after at Surabaya (December, 192^·), to extend their activities, which had previously been limited to trade· unions already under their control (among others the Vereeniging van Spoor- en Tramweg Personeel /V.S.T.P.. or Association of Railroad and Trolley Employees/(4) and Sarekat Postel). by organizing workers in the sugar mills in a union Sarekat Buruh Gula and by amalgamating the small unions of dock-workers and seamen under various names which acted independently here and there, e.g. in Batavia, Semarang and Surabaya, into one union: Sarekat Pegawai Pelabuan dan Lautan. Thus during 1925 a strong propaganda drive’ was opened practically every- where by the Communists within the existing trade unions large and small, and a similar drive for the establishment of new unions. Special mention should in this connection be made of the Association of Railroad and Trolley Employees (V.S.T.P.), the Sarekat Postel and the Sarekat Pegawai Pelabuan dan Lautan, the Sarekat Buruh Bengkel dan Electrisch (the union of workers in the metal industry, the electricity companies and similar concerns), the Sarekat Buruh Tjetak (printers* union) and the Sarekat Pegawai Rumah Sakit Indonesia (native hospltal- workers’ union). The result was the outbreak of various strikes among the workers thus organized, in Semarang among the employees of the Semarang Steam- ship and Proa-ferry Company (Semarangsch Stoomboot- en Prauwenveer). of the Central Civil Hospital and of some printing firms, separately organized in the S.P.P.I., the S.P.R.I. and the S.B.T. (August, 1925); in Batavia among employees of the Central Civil Hospital, organized in the S.P.P.L. (September, 1925); in Medan (Belawan) among employees in some government services and private concerns, organized in the S.P.P.L. (October, 1925); and in Surabaya among those working in the metal industry and with the dry-dock company, organized in the S.B.B.E. and S.P.P.L. respectively (November/December, 1925). The strikes, which involved cases of terrorism, intimidation and sabotage, were quickly suppressed by the enforcement of article 8a of Staatsblad 1919 No. 27 in the city of Semarang and on the East Coast of Sumatra and later by the more far-reaching ban contained in article 8b of the above-mentioned Staatsblad on the S.P.P.L., the V.S.T.P., the S.P. and the S.B.B.E. During the first local strikes in Semarang it had undoubtedly been in- tended that those actions should develop into a general strike. This plan was specially discussed at a secret meeting held there August 5» 1925» and attended (4) The V.S.T.P. has been affiliated with the Red Labor International since March, 1923. In the Antwerp Matin of June 30, July 1 and July 2, 1922, Mr. G. Alexinsky, the former Socialist representative for Petrograd (Lenin- grad) in the Duma pointed out in his articles "Les Boisheviki et Les Indes Neerlandaises" that the Third International Secretariat for the Far East had in its reports drawn attention to the fact that the Communists controlled the Central Office of Trade Unions in Java; this very probably is a reference to the V.S.T.P. office in Semarang, where the executives of several trade unions in Semarang under their control were situated, and an indication that, that group had succeeded in giving the movement a revolutionary and Bolshevist character, while the Secretariat was also correct in asserting that the railroad syndicate—and this refers to the V. S.T.P. itself—is controlled by Bolshevists.6 by twenty representatives of various trade unions, among whom were those of the V.S.T^P. A general strike was in fact decided upon, though without the approval of the V.S.T.P., which did not consider the time to be propitious. (5) A state- ment by Tan Malaka to the effect that he was very proud of Semarang’s courage, but that he regretted that the other organizations, particularly the Sarekat Buruh Gula, were still so weak, indicates that the leaders had not wished to let matters rest at these limited labor conflicts. The fact that the railroad organization had not been idle in the meantime was evident from an assignment received by Winanta to visit the V.S.T.P. sections in West Java. This he could not accomplish immediately owing to lack of time; however, he reported to the V.S.T.P. executive that he was going to carry out the assignment with respect to Batavia. At the same time he requested money to cover expenses and a mandate to prove that he, as a member of the PKI executive, had beene well staffed. There must always he an experienced secretary who can settle current business, so that the resident can devote all his powers to carrying out the heavy task of straightening out affairs which have been neglected for so long in this region. The Police and Army Constabulary: The establishment of a detachment of constabulary in Menes is an urgent necessity. As matters now stand, the distance between Pandeglang and Labuan (twenty-five miles) makes it impossible to cover Labuan, not to mention Tjibaliung, from the base in Pendeglang. The detachment at Menes ought to number at least fifty men. A patrol to the outlying district of Tjibaliung will always have to go out for a few days, while the coastal fishing village of Labuan, which is progressing well, may not be left without constabulary for long periods on end. Too much economy should not be practiced in the purchase of fast means of transport for the constabulary. The use of Ford trucks is highly advisable; in urgent cases they allow a rapid con- centration. of a large number of constabulary in a particular place. The detachment can also be easily transported by truck when long journeys have to be made, and then the demand can be made that the men patrol on foot to the left and right of a given place, particularly and preferably along all sorts of small roads through kampungs and along the lonely forest tracks, because it is along these little- used roads that the riff-raff tends to move. As the situation is at present the constabulary patrols too much along the large roads on horseback or by bicycle and not enough on foot through the desas. In the presence of a well-functioning and sufficiently strong regional criminal investigation department the constabulary should be chiefly restricted to the task of preventing crime and be transferred to repressive activities only when it receives orders from the administration or a request from the regional criminal investigation department, apart from cases where wrongdoers are caught red-handed. The actual detective work and gathering and utilizing reliable in- formation should remain chiefly in the hands of the regional criminal investiga- tion department and the administrative police. We recognize the great merits of the constabulary in this field and the successes they have scored, but we are nevertheless of the opinion that the frequent use of agents of the constabulary for criminal investigation has in the long run an undermining influence on dis- cipline. Detective work is a profession for which much aptitude and training is necessary and to which one’s entire attention must be devoted. However meritori- ous it may be, dillettantism in this subject can, along side of any success it might have, give rise to less desirable situations.58 Regional criminal investigation departments (19) The establishment of an efficient regional criminal investigation department is perhaps more necessary than anything else for the time being. The character of the man who is to be appointed head of such a department is of great importance. In our opinion he must be someone with a good education who has won his spurs in police work. He must not only conform to the requirements of ability and integrity but must have, moreover, an unbiased and clear understanding of Bantamese conditions, and first and foremost have the subtle gift of being able to obtain the willing cooperation of all sections of the population and all branches of the administration in the region. He must feel himself united with the police and constabulary and he must fully realize that this is the only way he can carry out his task successfully. The best person for the position will presumably be a well-respected patih or wedana who is not too old and who has a liking for police work. He will also have to have sufficient staff at his command. The chief of the regional criminal investigation department must come under the direct authority of the resident and be on an equal footing with the chief of the constabulary. The latter will need all his powers to keep up the standard of the constabulary in the five detachments and thus should not be troubled by the actual detective work. In the use of these forces, the police, the constabulary, and the regional criminal investigation department care should be taken to see that they are never played off against each other. It is only in this way that mutual understanding between the administration, constabulary, regional criminal investigation department and the people can be created and prosper. Polices It is only possible to bring about an effective improvement in the police (police officers working with Native Administrative officials) if there is a more careful selection of recruits, a thorough training at the police school, a service contract, and concentration in barracks. If the latter is impossible it should be replaced by yearly refresher courses in the barracks of the con- stabulary, Seeing that this plan will have to remain wishful thinking for the (19) We suggest that the staff of the regional criminal investigation department in Bantam should be as follows? a) An official e,g, patih or wedana with known abilities in the field as head, b) Four assistant wedanas, three of them each having a division to super- intend, while the fourth assistant wedana is specially charged with the task of checking smuggling in opium and clandestine fire-arms. The latter ought to be stationed in Labuan and pay particular attention to what is happening in Labuan and Pulomerak, c) Ten police mantris. The chief of the regional criminal investigation department and each of the assistant wedanas should have two mantris at their command, d) Twenty detectives. The chief of the regional criminal investigation department and each assistant wedana should have four detectives at their command, The headquarters of the chief of the regional criminal investigation de- partment must be at Serang, that of the four assistant wedanas at Serang, Pandeglang, Rangkasbitung, and Labuan respectively. The chief of the regional criminal investigation department should have an official car at his disposal and each of the assistant wedanas of the department should be allocated a motorcycle.59 time being on account of its financial consequences, we should like to recommend as an emergency or transitional measure an arrangement, (20) whereby the police are systematically attached to the cnastabulary for a time. (20) Ίή' Bantam an. arrangement^ of-, this .kind, could- be carried out in the following way tor-example. , -In Bantam there are three hundred policemen; four of them from each division, chosen each time from the same district,.could be attached to the constabulary based at the divisional headquarters for a period of two weeks; thus there are always,3 ? 4 = 12 policemen from the entire region attached to the constabulary. "During this period these policemen participate in all the duties of the constabulary. Thus they obtain some idea of drill, the use of arms, and shooting, learn to pay attention to appearances, equipment, and abode, and gain an elementary knowledge of police activities and the range of police authority. They become somewhat cognizant of the most important articles of the penal code and of the contents of the most promi- nent ordinances of the central government and the provincial and regency authorities. After a fortnight they are relieved by twelve policemen from other districts. After 300 : 12 = 25 x 2 weeks = 50 weeks the first group of twelve men returns to the barracks for a refresher course for another two-week period, etc. After the policemen have undergone three two-week training periods with the constabulary, refresher courses of one week instead of two will be sufficient on subsequent occasions. In this way, however deficient such emergency training may be, the standard of the police will rise appreciably in the course of a few years. It goes without saying that the wedana who has to do without four of his men for a fortnight must receive the support of a number of constabulary men, who must patrol the district regularly. This measure will of course also cost money. In the first place twelve bicycles would have to be purchased so that the policemen could participate in the cycle-patrols. That is therefore an immediate expenditure of 12 x 100 guilders = 1,200 guilders for the three barracks of the constabulary. During their period of service with the constabulary the policemen would each be allowed to claim 50 cents a day; for twelve men this is twelve times 50 cents, or 6 guilders a day or 365 x 6 guilders = 2,190 guilders a year. One guilder per bicycle per month can be estimated for the maintenance of the bicycles or twelve guilders per bicycle per year, which works out at 12 x 12 guilders = 144 guilders per year. Thus this means that there is an immediate expenditure of 1,200 guilders for the region of Bantam and an annual expenditure of 2,190 guilders plus 144 guilders = 2,334 guilders. It should be impressed upon the Native officials that policemen who are trained in this way should only be used for duty. Each wedana and assistant wedana should be granted an opas who can deliver letters and do other errands.6o The army: With respect to the army, the Commission is happy to agree with the opinion which is, as far as is known, generally recognized, that a sufficiently large number of troops must he stationed in the region of Bantam. The Commission leaves the question as to where these troops must he stationed to the authorities concerned. Policy The basis of the policy advisable for Bantam will have to be that of making it clear to the population that the government is strong and desires to be of benefit to them. Policy of the Central Government Preventive action: The government’s strength will in the first place have to be apparent from measures which are taken by the central authorities. If it is evident anywhere, then it is evident in Bantam that a change in policy is necessary, so that the administration will no longer just wait and see if there is going to be a rebellion somewhere, as it has done up until now, but actively oppose the tendencies towards rebellious action. Action during and after disturbances: The Commission considers that it must add to this that it is not only the governmental policy pursued in the pre- vention of disturbances which needs to be changed radically, but also the policy pursued when measures are taken during and after disturbances. In the Commission’s opinion, it is a serious ommission that there is no central office which has, in cases such as this, experienced detectives available and can give advice concerning the apprehension and pursuit of persons and in- vestigation into the situation. We by no means wish to reproach the local administration and the local police in this matter—the Commission here gladly acknowledges the fact that the administration and police in Bantam have, under the guidance of the resident, carried out a difficult task in a spirited way— but it is a fault in the organization. In various matters the P.K.I. was better equipped than the government. Another serious matter is that law suits have to take so long. It is in principle a good thing that members of the judiciary should be selected to prosecute and judge mass cases of this kind. The only question is that this was all done on much too small a scale. The Commission does not dare to venture an opinion as to whether an alteration of the law is necessary in order to expedite trials, but it does not seem out of the question. Finally it is disastrous that all the prisoners have to be imprisoned together in large rooms, as this greatly hampers investigation and it is only natural that it will not be as successful as it would otherwise have been. If in November work had been started on building separate cells—employing the Engineers Corps if necessary—the investigations would now have been much easier. Generally speaking it narrows down to this: the government should be prepared, in the event of a recurrence of outbreaks such as these, a recurrence which is doubtless possible and probable, to ,guarantee a much more efficient and rapid settlement of affairs. The Commission has gone into this matter somewhat thoroughly because it is of the opinion that one of the most important underlying causes of the rebellion61 is the dwindling respect for the governments, It therefore seems reasonable to recommend any measure which, in its opinion, will strengthen the impression of the government’s authority. Local Policy As regards local policy it is advisable to pursue a line of conduct in which on the one hand the execution of all regulations which must really be carried out is vigorously enforced, but in which on the other hand the number of these regulations is deliberately reduced to a minimum and in which continual care is first and foremost devoted to the delicate question of religion. The relationship to the kiais: As far as the latter is concerned a few words must be devoted "to the relationships between the Native Administration and the kiais. This question must be approached with great care. On the one hand there is the danger of the pri.jajis paying too much honor to the kiais, on the other the danger of an undesirable alienation between the kiais and pri.jajis. Generally speaking the penghulus are the officials who are most suitable for the maintenance of contact with the Moslem scholars. The administration also relies on them for information concerning the nature of the religious in- struction given by those teachers. In times of unrest among the population the administration will always have to take into account the great influence of these scholars. Not only must an attempt be made to check the influence of possible propagandists, but first and foremost the gurus of repute must be induced to ex- press their opinions openly to the population. They must learn to understand that silence may well be interpreted to their disadvantage. As few measures as possibles Apart from the legal regulations, which should be restricted as far as possible, the population must be allowed the greatest possible freedom. There should be no measures such as perintah halus, ’’persua- sion," "tactful action," or "inducement," the use of which it does not compre- hend. This does not mean that there should be no attempt to make the population understand eventually the use of certain measures by means of patient discussion and explanation. However, a formal, superficial discussion, in which the objec- tions raised by the population are not taken into account, must not be considered as being sufficient. And when the population really objects it should be left in peace when there are no legal coercive measures. A policy of this kind will demand, particularly of a number of European Administration officials accustomed to Javanese conditions, a change in mentality. They will have to accustom themselves to accepting the fact that the population sometimes does not wish to cultivate its land properly and keep its plantations tidy. Measures such as were taken to combat hookworm seem to be ineffective and undesirable in a region such as this. Where irrigation is concerned measures will have to be taken which have the approval of the population, even if they may seem incorrect from the economic or "irrigation" point of view. The policy recommended with respect to the desa is in complete agreement with this. It is a well-known fact that the population of Bantam pays less tax than is paid elsewhere in the Dutch East Indies and is moreover more unwilling to62 contribute anything to furthering common interests or even the interests of the desa. But it seems undesirable at the moment to impose desa taxes on the people in opposition to their wishes, e.g. in the form of levies for fields for officials or labor for tertiary irrigation canals. The first thing necessary in Bantam is that the population becomes accus- tomed to carrying out orders given. Therefore as few orders as possible must be given. This’s should be constantly pointed out to the regency councils: their tendency to levy taxes should always be severely restricted by means of annul- ment of regency decrees. Special Measures The Commission considers it advisable to suggest only a small number of other special measures. Measures concerning non-religious matters: The Land Rent Service is advised to consider the possibility of permitting the exemption of dry lands in particular cases. It is to be desired that the Land Rent Service assumes the supervision of the exemption itself. The Commission gladly supports the proposal as sub- mitted by the resident for Bantam concerning this matter. Although this does not lie within the Commission’s field of inquiry and although there has been no Communist activity in the region concerned, the Commission should, in its opinion, not refrain from drawing attention to the fact—acquired from a reliable source—that at least as far as South Pandeglang there is widespread dissatisfaction with the huma regulation which restricts the rights of the population to dispose over forest areas. This restriction is reported to be considered oppressive on account of the lack of sufficient areas suitable for dry rice cultivation or for sawahs. The Commission feels it to be its duty to draw the government’s attention to this matter in particular, in order that the administration may institute a further investigation of the matter. Measures concerning religion: 1. Child marriages: With respect to child marriages the measures taken in the three regencies of the residency of Bantam are not quite identical. However, they mainly amount to the fact that in the first place the couple to be married must appear before the penghulu or assistant wedana in order that an inquiry may be made into their ages, in particular that of the bride, and that secondly sometime after the marriage the assistant wedana investigates at the home of the bride’s parents whether she is living with her husband or not, in cases where the wife is still too young. Child marriages occur most frequently among the agricultural population. The vast majority of these are cases of kawin gantung,*as is apparent from periodic reports. Then husband and wife only start living together after a number of years. Although in connection with the liberty allowed to marriageable girls, who are not kept at home here as they are elsewhere, one cannot speak of objections of a religious nature to the bride’s appearance before the penghulu or Native Administration official, the interview can give rise to dissatisfaction. However, objections were reported to have been made exclusively because of the expenses incurred when the bride has to be taken to an official living some distance away. *Eds Kawin gantungi marriage contracted between young children, cohabitation not taking place until a later age.ft The Commission is of the opinion that it is desirable that this stipulation be withdrawn if this appears possible in other places as well from reports re- ceived at a later date concerning the extent of the evil of child marriages. Thus the inquiry into the question: of whether the young people are living to- gether or not should be carried out as unobtrusively as possible» The danger of marrying off young girls too early should continue to be pointed out on suitable occasions. 2. Religious teachers: With respect to the supervision of the religious instruction given by the kiais, all unnecessary opposition to these teachers should be avoided. However, this may not degenerate into a complete negligence of the supervision prescribed in the guru ordinance. Apart from a few exceptions the existing regulations have not been enforced properly during the past three years. In a region like Bantam this is, however, undeniably necessary in more than one respect. The excellent means given by these regulations to further the nature of the instruction and its influence need not be mentioned here in de- tail. (21) After the introduction of the guru ordinance of 1925 the number of gurus including the gurus ngadji Koran has, in the regencies of Serang, Pandeglang, and Lebak, increased by more than 270, almost 40, and approximately 20 respec- tively. In the regency of Serang there are n ow 225, and in each of the other two regencies 70 kitab and tarekat gurus, over whom some supervision is necessary. In order to make this supervision, which can scarcely be carried out successfully by Native Administration officials, effective, suitable penghulus must be appointed. It seems desirable to the Commission that a plan should be made as soon as possible for a systematic investigation into the matter. The penghulus concerned would have to receive a monthly allowance to cover the cost of the journeys to be made, as they can hardly be expected to do so at their own expense. 3„ Marriages and divorces: From various quarters objections have been raised concerning the fact that in those cases where the mediation of the authori- ties is necessary for the celebration of a marriage, the parties are obliged to go to the residence of the penghulu of the regency who fulfills that function on behalf of the regent. Islamic law allows the so-called wali hakli» who performs this function to appoint a substitute for each individual case. These problems are solved if the parties in question inform the district penghulu of the required mediation of the government-appointed wali whereupon the district pefrghulu requests the regency penghulu to entitle him to celebrate the marriage. Then the parties in question need not go any further than the district seat. An objection of this kind arises in cases in which a decision on a divorce by pasah*has to be asked of the religious council. This objection can be removed when the proposed conversion of the juris- diction by the religious council, presided over by the penghulu district court, into the penghulu jurisdiction is carried out. However, the penghulu, as sole judge assisted by an assessor to be appointed for the principal towns of the district, can regularly preside over sessions in those places as well. The Commission is, therefore, of the opinion that it must urge as immediate an introduction of this jurisdiction as possible. Together with many other ad- vantages this also entails the improvement of the very important position of *Eds Wali hakimi person authorized'to perform marriages, etc.? roughly, a justice of the peace. Pasahs mendakwa paseah, any divorce which may be asked for by the wife.6b penghulu, as judge of differences which must he decided upon according to local religious law. There is no need to enter further into the question of how sig- nificant it is for Bantam that the importance of this office become apparent to the outside world by means of the considerable improvement of position proposed in the above-mentioned regulation. 4. Institution of Friday services: In order to avoid abuses in the investi- gation into the admissibility of a Friday service, the -ftenghulu who is commissioned to study the local situation should be allowed to claim traveling expenses in- curred in the course of his duty. This will obviate complaints concerning the extravagant expenditures of the penghulus appointed having to be reimbursed by the population. The institution of Friday services often leads to violent dissension among the population. Therefore, supervision of this institution by the regents seems indispensable for the time being. Governmental decisions in differences of this kind, however unavoidable they sometimes are, are seldom satisfactory. They are continually being brought up for discussion again. It is advisable for parties to appoint by mutual deliberation a scholarly arbiter from a neighboring district who is unprejudiced and who enjoys the confidence of both parties. In this way, without excluding governmental leadership, an attempt can be made to have the population settle such often-profound differences themselves. CONCLUSION In agreement with what has been mentioned above in outlining the basis for a new policy all these measures, generally speaking, arise from the principle that the population must first and foremost become accustomed to obeying and respecting the government, while the government on its part must constantly take into account the peculiarities of the population, which are not always agreeable. It is only in this way that law and order can become a possibility. The Commission realizes that the expense entailed by the proposed measures will be considerable, even very high» But it is convinced—and it believes itself to be supported in this by the opinion of all local administrative officials— that, the high expenditure is. justified. For not only the peaceful develop- ment of extensive regions which have been rather neglected by the authorities in the past is at stake but—and experience has unfortunately shown that this is no idle talk—also the lives of government officials. Finally the Commission wishes to state emphatically that it is well aware that, however efficient all the proposed measures may be in themselves, however well the administrative system and organization visualized may function— quite apart from the fact that there will never be sufficient means or suffi- ciently trained persons available—the root of the evil will not be eradicated. A people such as the Bantamese, and the same applies to the population of many other parts of the Dutch East Indies, will always be greatly susceptible to prop- aganda which tempts them with the proppect of liberation from foreign rule. Therefore certainly no less important than the measures necessary locally to render the population less receptive to the activities of propagandists, which come from outside in the first instance, is the attempt to deprive such activities of their strength. Hence this must not only be effected by imbuing the object of these activities, the population, with more resistance to their influence, but also by attempting to guide the activities of their leaders into other channels. The course of events has clearly indicated that the leaders of the movement could organize themselves in spite of police, administration, and the criminal investigation department with theiregulations which are at the disposal of these bodies, and that they could embrace thousands in the organization designed by them. The intellectuals who did not join that organization did not turn against it either. This time it was so-called Communists, another time it will be extreme nationalists or others who attempt the same thing. The urge for freedom which stirs the best among these people—inferior elements need not be considered here— is not to be checked by any contrived system of preventive or repressive measures, but perhaps the excesses to which it gives rise in these regions may be prevented by always and unreservedly granting the population a voice in administrative affairs corresponding to its own development. As the population's share in the settlement of its own interests becomes larger, counter-forces may be developed which will turn against any organizations which jeopardize authority. At the moment, no substantial measures can be indicated for Bantam as to a solution of this extremely difficult problem. Nevertheless it is certain that attention must, in the future,remain focused on what may be achieved in this direction. It is also certain that in Bantam's case compulsion alone can never solve the problem.66 In this report the considerations and conclusions are laid down to which the three members of the Commission have come after a partially joint hut chiefly individual inquiry and after mutual discussions. The Commission visited almost the whole of the area which had been in rebellion, but particularly the districts of Pandeglang, Menes, and Labuan (Tjaringin) as well as Serang. They have not only tried to obtain the views of active or retired officials but also to learn the opinions of the Native inhabitants of the region. To this end they have inter viewed people from the desas in many places. As complete unanimity was achieved concerning the fundamental items directly connected with the assignment, there was no reason for any of the members of the Commission to submit a minority report. Finally the Commission wishes to thank all those within and without Bantam who have, at its request, given their very willing assistance. The Commission of Inquiry, E. Gobee, Sumitro, Eanneft.67 APPENDIX I Legend The figures indicate the dates of rebellions in the various places in the nineteenth century»68 APPENDIX II Bodjanegara Legend Lantar = Large number of members of the P.K.I. relation to the size of the population. Moderately large number of members of the P.K.I. in relation to the size of the population. = Small number of members of the P.K.I. in relation to the size of the population. White = Free of Communists.69 APPENDIX III70 Legend Places with members of the P.K.I. Place names 0-100 = · Regency of Serang 100 - 300 = O '; 300 upwards = ® Promotors 10-20 20-50 50 upwards Sub-section P oK.Io = Armed resistance Boundaries and other indications 1. Bodjanegara 2. Pulomerak 3. Tjilegon 4. Kramatwatu 5. Kasemen 6. Pontong 7. Tanara 8. Anjer 9. Mantjak 10. Blagendong 11. Taktakan 12. Serang 13. Tjiruas 14. Tjarenang 15. Gunungsari 16. Walantaka 17. Padarintjang 18. Tjiomas 19. Baros 20. Petir 21. Tjikeusal Residency of division Boundary = +-·- + + + + Regency Boundary = -------- District Boundary = -------- SuB-district Boundary = ........ Highways = -------- Railroads = === Regency of Pandeglang 22. Tjadasari 23. Mandalawangi 24. Tjening 25o LaBuan 26. Pagelaran 27. Menes 28. Tjiandur 29. BatuBantar 30. Pandeglang Regency of LeBak 31. Warunggunung 32. RangkasBitung71 APPENDIX IV The figures at the various places indicate the maximum numbers of members of the Sarekat Islam between the years-α Μ APPENDIX V Criminality 1926 Crimes Regency Number of crimes recorded Petty thefts Article 364 Penal Code Major thefts with aggra- vating cir- cumstances Articles 363, 365, etc. Penal Code Manhandling Sedition, insulting authorities etc., politi- cal offenses Other crimes Slight Grave Total Number cleared up Total Number cleared up Total Number cleared up Total Number cleared up Total Number cleared up Total Number cleared up Serang Pandeglang Bangkasbi tung 469 199 236 429 178 174 466 110 86 227 61 52 258 96 127 245 90 122 92 27 22 86 24 20 37 148 5 37 148 5 422 43 26 394 43 19 904 771 662 340 481 457 141 130 190 190 491 456APPENDIX VI Criminality 1926 Misdemeanors Regency Number of misdemeanors committed Violation of the ban on meetings Violation of the guru ordinance Slander Clandestine exploitation of land Other misdemeanors Total Number cleared up Total Number cleared up Total Number cleared up Total Number cleared up Total Number cleared up Serang 100 91 - - 22 22 21 21 1197 1115 Pandeglang 13 13 - - 17 16 32 32 147 147 Rangkasbitung 4 4 - - 6 6 101 101 509 478 117 108 - - 45 44 154 154 1858 1740 XI?b APPENDIX VII AND FOUR TABLES Proceeds (in florin) from the Various Taxes and Levies Paid by Government Tax (Tax Assessment Direction) 1913 1914 1915 1916 Poll tax 125,869 308,167 311,941 313,601 Land tax 806,985 739,570 710,668 770,116 Fishpond tax 3,465 3,512 3,641 1,897 Huma rent 16,276 19,406 24,130 23,509 Native ground tax - - - - Trade tax 39,273 39,451 39,540 38,447 Income tax - - - - Surtax on Income tax — — - - Tax on houses, property, etc. - - - - European ground tax 4,o4i 4,041 4,04l 4,o4l Total 995,909 1,114,147 1,093,961 1,151,611 Indirect taxes raid Slaughter tax 49,118 38,850 37,853 51,918 Import duty 215,300 193,525 198,875 227,400 Export duty 2,107 1,427 2,303 3,062 Excises 104,720 132,600 145,320 143,900 Stamp duty 378 338 238 312 Public auction dues 1,638 1,800 2,094 2,244 Total 409,261 368,540 386,683 428,836 Local taxes paid Regional tax 95 Municipal tax - - - - Principalities irrigation district tax - - - - Total 95 - - - Monopoly taxes paid Salt 210,337 192,192 213,706 175,097 Pawnshops 12,000 20,000 25,000 27,000 Salt duty Grobogan - - - - Total 222,337 212,192 238,706 202,097 Levies paid Education 7,488 Regional levies 14,675 — — Municipal levies - — — Principalities levies - — Principalities school fees - - - - Total 22,163 - — — Grand total 1,649,765 1,694,879 1,719,350 1,782,54475 the Native Population of Bantam between the Years 1913-1924 1917 1918 1919 1920 19?1 1922 1923 1924 317,005 317,811 315,657 313,992 361,624 371,210 417,479 426,074 754,442 749,209 717,632 724,579 807,117 837,959 919,440 945,256 3,792 3,912 3,894 3,613 3,972 4,249 12,566 3,032 14,256 15,871 15,731 18,079 17,130 17,302 20,964 19,253 - - - - — - — 6,832 37,682 39,666 45,382 - - — — - - - 89,129 36,197 70,063 64,135 60,909 - - - - - 8,470 7,192 6,395 - - - 4,472 1,833 2,516 5,021 6,135 4,04l 361 361 361 361 361 400 400 1,131,218 1,126,830 1,098,657 1,154,225 1,228,254 1,311,430 1,447,197 1,474,286 58,950 43,644 60,440 63,351 39,328 69,874 80,714 71,101 221,650 242,225 284,325 613,300 621,450 541,700 520,075 542,625 2,741 1,682 5,845 5,572 11,569 14,692 17,245 20,680 146,340 131,780 142,060 172,340 225,880 303,960 295,520 265,280 332 312 364 446 518 736 696 662 2,266 2,600 2,788 2,876 3,386 4,134 4,058 4,238 432,279 422,243 495,822 859,885 902,131 935,096 918,308 904,586 - 170 - - - 16,471 17,159 22,822 - 170 - - - 16,471 17,159 22,822 189,696 187,283 166,877 153,604 149,177 151,352 145,557 149,941 24,000 30,000 32,000 60,000 13,000 24,000 37,000 59,000 213,696 217,283 198,877 213,604 162,177 175,352 182, 208,941 15,000 17,296 25,877 28,538 61,961 - 18,329 lilt ; - lilt 25,676 54,835 54,835 18,329 - 15,000 17,296 51,553 83,373 97,805 1,777,193 1,784,885 1,793,356 2,242,714 2,309,858 2,489,902 2,648,594 2,708,44076 Table 1 Trade Tax — Natives Number Assessed: Region a. below fl20 b. fl20-f600 c. f6OO-flOOO d. flOOO upward Bantam 8,887 1912 6,432 72 8 The whole of Java 770,802 193,827 2,033 986 1913 Bantam 12,355 4,312 72 19 The whole of Java 818,891 188,584 2,582 1,006 1914 Bantam 13,250 4,439 68 10 The whole of Java 836,531 196,874 2,768 1,036 1915 Bantam 14,321 3,879 49 12 The whole of Java 861,422 205,220 2,710 1,042 1916 Bantam 14,160 3,694 48 16 The whole of Java 889,432 216,426 3,203 1,264 1917 Bantam 12,593 3,691 65 9 The whole of Java 915,447 1 226,923 3,640 1,4687? 1918 Bantam 13,871 3,973 69 17 The whole of Java 904,513 224,022 3,748 2,151 1919 Bantam 13,481 4,318 67 17 The whole of Java 836,472 217,975 4,128 1,886 1920 Bantam 20,772 706 648 The whole of Java - 708,454 28,039 16,979 1921 Bantam — 9,079 261 234 The whole of Java - 806,672 36,952 22,371 1922 Bantam 15,002 548 . 462 The whole of Java 870,337 41,525 27,486 1923 Bantam 14,804 494 497 The whole of Java — 913,272 52,479 23,039 1924 Bantam — 14,743 614 338 The whole of Java — 983,145 32,282 17,939 1925 Bantam - 29,172 684 393 1926 Bantam - 27,359 824 373Table 2 Taxes ~\3 OO Condensation of information gathered by means of sampling Source: administrative reports Io Regional income-groups and percentage of tax paid by inhabitants of country areas Bantam Total % Number of cases investigated Income per head in guilders Taxes on income in guilders in percentages Bantam Java Govern- mental ■ Local Desa D.jakat or Pitrah Ao Government officials©©©©©©.°,©©©© Bo Besa heads and members of desa 6 .166© 17 3=7 1©2 - 0.4 5=3 5 = 1 3=1 6©9 administration© oooooooo.oooooooooo 3 87=41 2© 87 0©3 0©3 1 = 7 Co Religious officials and 3.4 8©- 4©3 religious teachers©©oooo©ooooo©o©o 5 27=04 4.3 - o©3 Do Bull time workers in enter- prises, factories or employed by Europeans and Chinese »© © © © © © © © © © © © 2 29© 93 1©3 2.4 0©9 4.6 3=5 Eo Sawah or tegal owners who are 12©7 12.1 Wealthy ©OOOOOCOOOOOOOOOOOOO 3 119=77 10©3 - 0©4 2.0 F© Sawah or tegal owners with a reasonable income (sedang)©©©„©©© © Go Sawah or tegal owners who are 7 77=34 5=8 - 0©3 2,6 8.7 10.8 2.4 13=2 o o 0-3- 1—1 poor (miskin, iaelarat).,.o......,o 12 51.11 8©9 0o9 1.0 Η© Sharecroppers, not owning land©©»© I© Agricultural workers employed 5 18 ©88 3=5 “· 1.4 4.4 2©9 9=3 7=6 2.7 exclusively in Native agriculture© J„ Whole-sale merchants or owners of 4 19=50 3=1 1.6 a Native industry with employees (batik industries, cassava factor- ies), owners of fishing proas»,».. — K„ Tukangs, retailers etc© with 4=3 4©2 2.4 self-supporting industries© © © © ©,© © 6 46 ©74 2.7 0©2 0©7 0.7 L© Coolies employed casually©©©©»©©©© 8 28 ©64 2©8 - 1=5 0©9 5=2 79 Table 3 Pressure of Taxation per Capita in Guilders Source: see note 11. b. Changes since 1913 Region 1913 1920 1921 1922 1923 192^ Difference between 1913 and 1924 Bantam 1.85 0.93 1.18 1.52 1.72 1.69 —80 Table 4 Taxes in guilders Tax imposed by local council 1913 1914 Total revenue collected Of which estimated to have been paid by natives Total revenue collected Of which estimated to have been paid by natives 1. Fire-work tax - - - - 2. Entertainment tax - - - - 3„ Surtax on govern- mental tax on the sum total of the: a. house and property taxi b. ground tax J 3,279 3 { 95* 3,241 6,198 170* c. governmental income tax - - - 4/5» Tax on using roads with vehicles - — — 6o Street tax - - - ?. Road tax - - - - 8. Tax on unbuilt-on premises or insufficiently built- on premises M· ■ 9» Municipal income tax - - IO» Lighting tax - - - -- 11. Tax on alcoholic beverages - - - «· 12. Dog tax - - - - Total 3,279 95 9,439 170 Total arrears 6o - 4,205 20 * Rough estimate81 1922 1923 1924 Total Of'which Total Of which Total Of which revenue estimated revenue estimated revenue estimated collected to have been paid "by natives collected to have been- paid hy natives collected to have heen paid hy natives - - 400 200 7,832 5,220* 6,721 4,480* 4,584 ! 3,056* 6,056 1,000* 5,438 1,000* ! 7,099 ί 2,000* ^0,055 200* 22,524 200* 11,382 200* - - 4,888 1,500* 11,881 3,000* 11,039 9,226 14,822 8,797 15,753 i 10,457 - - 5,140 995 11,839 4,107 17,151 825 11,375 182 17,997 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 851 - 1,179 - 1,328 - - 200 5 355 j 2 82,984 16,471 72,687 17,159 82,418 j 22,822 19,460 8,694 22,446 9,325 22,017 1 10,467APPENDIX VIII Region Relationship of desa heads to former desa heads son other relation no relation Priangan 160 382 708 12% 30% 58% Kedu · 518 330 428 40% 26% 34% Semarang. 235 324 512 22% 30% 48% Madiun 229 309 613 19% 27% 54% Pasu ruan................. 138 200 584 14% 27% 59% UQ,! i t cllll e ee···. ...... ...... 4l 97 411 7% 18% 75%APPENDIX IX Regency Serang Pandeglang Rangkasbi tung CD ω ω $ Ϊ3 kA CD P ω 20.5 79 83 367 Number of Number of desa heads members with a of desa term of administration office of with a term of office of Number of desa heads dismissed in the last three years Number of desa heads related to former desa heads kA I CD P •-J ω o I ΓΌ o CD P3 »"J ω ΓΌ o CD P3 rj ω £ § »-$ co t-* CD co co c+ t=r P3 y kA CD P3 co kA I o 39 22 29 90 28 27 12 67 10 9 6 25 1386 729 617 2732 CD P co ro o CD P »-* U) fk> o CD P co ■g i§ »-$ pu co o fcs o •-J & I—1 a> ω o cr Ϊ» CRJ Φ Dishonor- ably on account of Tax- ation fraud Other rea- sons tn o 2 pr CD CD Η-» o o CD l·—» P c-h H»· o 2 82 38 41 161 50 21 44 115 13 10 19 42 128 36 22 186 23 29 58 16 14 88 16 23 ill 50 32 15 97 216 82 113 411 03' kk>84 APPENDIX X Religion Regency Year Total number of religious edifices extant at the end of the year Balai Pesantren Mesjid houses of Guru kitah Guru ngadji Guru tarekat Pandeglang 1917 696 118 91 37 136 5 1918 609 121 103 28 143 ? 1919 621 121 120 27 150 4 1920 639 121 124 28 156 5 1921 648 126 153 29 158 5 1922 867 187 209 54 198 5 1923 744 148 192 60 168 5 1924 745 149 195 61 168 5 1925 758 160 204 65 194 4 1926 773 174 206 68 200 4 Rangkashitung.. 1917 122 58 99 38 62 1918 122 59 99 42 64 - 1919 125 61 99 46 68 - 1920 139 65 101 i ; 47 84 - 1921 137 70 102 97 - 1922 279 78 116 ’ ? 113 - 1923 303 100 122 1 62 138 1 1924 309 123 124 ! 58 162 1925 329 112 131 i 71 l6l 1926 351 110 129 > 71 172 Serang 1917 2384 145 404 74 230 7 1918 2394 152 4o4 107 333 6 1919 2409 167 4o6 122 405 11 1920 2666 181 461 121 458 13 1921 2877 187 490 123 494 13 1922 3005 212 504 126 516 13 1923 3055 212 511 145 517 12 1924 2997 226 532 146 568 12 1925 3073 240 546 180 597 16 1926 3288 244 559 204 775 21 1Q5 APPENDIX XI The number of persons who went on pilgrimage was: (North Bantam) 1913 744 1920 19 1921 368 1922 838 1923 668 1924 953 1925 — 1926 50786 APPENDIX XII The Number of Hadjis Regency District Number of hadjis Total Of which the following were desa heads Serang Serang 1567 5 Tjiruas 861 8 Pontang 3 Pamarajan 722 3 Tjilegon 1316 7 Anjer 730 4 Tjiomas 876 4 Total 6766 34 Lebak Rangkasbitung 488 2 Lebak 271 1 Parungkud jang 214 — Tjilangkahan 229 1 Total 1202 4 Pandeglang Pandeglang 1073 3 Menes 505 3 Tjaringin 820 2 Tjibaliung 63 — Total 2491 8 Grand total Serang. 6766 34 Lebak 1202 4 Pandeglang 2491 8 Total 10459 46APPENDIX XIII I Number of Desa Heads Discharged II Number of Officials Discharged Discharged honorably Discharged dishonorably Q7 During the year cn cd & CD Pi o cn cn ω Pi cn cn cd a <+-i cn cd cn cd q-i o a o •r~I -X> cd nd o cn a o o cn Pi o •i—l 4-^ CJ cd CD r—I •«—1 cn a CD xi CD P pt· CD Pci O 3 pd Pi o o cn P o -x cn P* P -x> -p <+4 (D Xj EH -X Pi CD a CD I—1 tS3 tS3 CD a ή ί>> P 2 id

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